For twenty minutes we ride. We are deep under the city now, inside the maintenance areas and substructures that keep it all running. Water flows into pipes of various sizes, feeding the city’s other areas.
They stop the boat, taking a few minutes to hide it inside of a false pipe. Then we clamber up onto a catwalk and start the next leg of our journey.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“The Doctor wants to speak with you,” Gustav says flatly.
“He does know that I paid him, right?”
He just repeats himself, “The Doctor wants to speak with you.”
I could make a run for it, try to lose them in the chaos of the pipes and cables. But I own them one, so I will at least see what the crazy fucker wants.
We pass by a maintenance drone as it crawls along the surface of an electrical line, no doubt checking it for damage. Its yellow paint and orange warning lights make it stand out next to the slate grey conduit. The bot ignores us, I hope that its monitor isn’t uplinked to it. Hopefully they are screwing around in VR or taking a nap.
The exhaust has made the tunnels surprisingly warm, my clothes are rapidly drying. The inner workings of the city are strangely clean, probably because there isn’t anyone here to make a mess. Well, there isn’t anyone in this particular area, but the Untouchables have been known to inhabit parts of the underground.
I look at Sylvia, “You do know that you got spotted at the resort?”
“I tripped an alarm, won’t happen again.”
“So, how did you two get with Gorman?”
It is Sylvia that answers, “The doctor’s work is incredible. He has identified those aspects of the human body which most reflect its beauty and enhanced them.”
That is a hell of a fancy way of saying that he turns people into freaks.
A message appears on my IC; it is a plea/warning from Burabō. They are perturbed by my refusal to assist their retention officer and my failure to come have a chat with them about the events at the resort. Now they are very curious as to why the surveillance system outside of one of their Canal Street establishments has captured footage of me with the woman that broke into the resort. Time is running out, I am dangerously close to losing another company.
We reach a doorway marked, “Caution: hazardous material storage,” which is obviously there to keep people away. Gustav opens the door and we enter.
This is one of Gorman’s labs alright. Lab being a lose term. A scientist works in a lab, Gorman is just a pervert with a bit of scientific training. But then again, I guess that a drug dealer also works in a lab, so maybe it is correct to call the jumble of machines a lab.
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The place has all the tools of the trade. I spot growth tanks of various sizes. Boxes full of cybernetic parts and raw materials are piled onto shelves. A surgical table sits in one corner, it has the equipment that is necessary for conducting a brain transfer.
“There you are!” a flamboyant voice proclaims. Gorman is short and ugly, so ugly that I have to wonder if he was engineered to look that way, if some sick impulse had driven him to get an extremely unattractive body.
“John, we meet again. You really get around. But I guess that someone like you can’t help but get around.”
“Thanks for the assist,” I glance at the other two and nod, “All of you. But why follow me? Why bring me here?”
“First things first, poor Gustav is injured!” the good doctor declares. He leads the big guy over to the operating table. Gustav removes his duster, revealing a tank top and a handgun in a shoulder holster. The doctor starts patching his knife and claw wounds. Sylvia walks over to a wall locker. She opens it and starts pulling out boxes of ammunition. She piles them up on a table and starts loading SMG magazines.
“You don’t mind if I load up on ammo?” I ask.
Gorman may be a lot of things, but stingy isn’t one of them, “Of course! Help yourself!” he cries out.
I pull out the revolver, unlock the cylinder, and I dump the spent casings out.
Sylvia is impressed, “A Stallion Mk III, nice.”
I look around in the locker till I find the right caliber. My mouth twists into a wicked smile, they have armor piercing slug, hollow point, and canister rounds. I gleefully gather up the boxes, as well as a few speed loaders. Then I lovingly load up six hollow points, before filling up the speed loaders. Now I have different options for different situations. I even pocket a few loose rounds just in case.
I finish long before Gorman is done with his patient. I use my IC, immediately checking to see if Charles Fauré is still gone. Délta Corp just announced a new fourteen-part documentary on the Martian colony’s war for independence. I hold my nose and leave a positive comment on the notice, fuck, this is the third documentary series they have done on it in the last eight years. It will be a big deal, I might actually have to watch it so that I can stay up to speed.
Gorman finishes doctoring up Gustav, who puts his coat back on and heads toward the ammo locker.
Gorman walks over to a fridge, “I need you for a job,” he says as he digs around for a drink.
“You could have just asked me.”
“It has been a while, I needed to make sure that you are still on the up and up. I know that the government helped to make you what you are, by your very nature you are compromised,” then he hastily adds, “No offence.”
“None taken. Alright, fine, what do you need?”
“I need biomatter. Lots of it.”
As gaudy as his bodies are, his style does have its admirers, hence the two goons. “A bunch of new clients?” I ask.
“No. Just one and he is the one. I am going to create my masterpiece, my magnum opus. It is time.”
“Well, I would be glad to help you, but now isn’t the time.”
“Oh, you mean your run in with the good people of the Charles Fauré corporation. What did you do to piss them off? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I’m trying to find this girl. No, I don’t know why.”
“Well, how can we help?”
I struggle with that for a second, before saying, “Give me a little bit of time. I have to do some digging in a copy of someone’s IC.”
He points to a door, “There is a quiet spot in there. Come get me when you are ready.”
I enter the room, which turns out to be an empty storage area. A single light illuminates the bare metal walls. I make sure that no creatures inhabit it before I sit down on the floor Indian style. I direct a thought to the drive in my pocket, I will start at the earliest part of the VR world and work my way forward in time.