The scent of the room was flooded with the scent of rum. I couldn’t decipher which brand, because none of the bottles that lay on the table had labels, so more than likely, they were bootlegs, which for some reason, were far stronger than the standard bottle of rum.
“Artificial liver?” I asked.
“…with a more brazen system.”
“Doesn’t that make the lucidity worse?”
“….just the way I like it.”
I watched as some discolouration left Stepson's eyes, and he perked up a bit in his chair. He rolled his eyes and the child-like gaze he held, was flashed with a bitter smirk
“Documents on my desk, outline everything that happened within Lyiez within the last three years. The hiring of the alternate staff, black market purchases for raw materials and equipment for cloning. All of that is fine. I did it, but the last six months? There’s shit there that I didn’t request or order.”
“Such as?”
“Paid Invoices for requests I didn’t order or make…”
“Invoices?”
“Yes. Apparently, I requested Parnith Graphics.”
“Parnith Graphics?”
“A special effects company that specializes in video grafting.”
“What content did you request?”
“I requested security cam footage of a man and woman being killed.”
The stitched videos…holy shit, I thought. Finally. It makes sense all of this MAKES SENSE! I didn’t understand why these videos were ‘stitched’ and why I had such footage, but it was clear. It was to lead me to Stepson Vizare’s involvement. He illegally created clones and pushed his new patent formula as a way to join the poultry market. However, someone knew what he was up to, and built a solid case to string him up. “Morbid,” I added, “and they made it?”
“Made it? This shit is normal, EXiCON…rich little shits always make such videos as kinks. How do you think such businesses thrive, via social media videos? Movies? No. Some rich asshole needs a kink video made!”
“I see…did you make human clones in your research?”
“Of course, how else were we to be sure the damn coders work!”
“Artificial Death,” I whispered.
“YES, Artificial Death…Clones made in a deathly state!” Stepson roared. “You think the Onesers don’t engage in such? Those bastards engage in HEAVY insurance fraud.”
“Isn’t Cloning regulated by the Federation?”
“It is, but you honestly believe that there aren’t poor saps who don’t gamble, have exuberant debts or NEED surgery…for a loved one? CREDITS REIGN SUPREME, EXiCON…remember that”
The bastard is right I thought bitterly, they do reign supreme, but in your case…you got greedy. Fool. “It can also dig your grave,” I said firmly, tone laced in sarcasm.
Vizare ground his teeth and hissed steam from his lips. Flustered from my truthful quip. He angrily snatched up his glass, poured another shot of brown rum and downed it in one gulp.
“…the death of your Board?” I asked, getting to the point.
The CEO released a loud chuckle and shook his head, then eyed me pensively. I stared back and watched his gaze shift down, as he turned uncomfortably in his chair, fishing for something in his pocket. He flicked something in the air, catching me off guard, but I shifted left, catching it with my cybernetic hand.
I turned back towards him and eyed the datacube, whilst turning it in my hand. “What’s this?” I asked, confused.
Stepson didn’t say anything but poured himself another glass of rum. “Watch,” He said gruffly, “…just watch.”
The pleasure room was devoid of any data interval as I hunted for one to insert the data cube. Stepson pointed towards the exit, making it quite clear I’d have to return to his office if I wanted to watch.
“Really?” I said.
I stomped my way out of the room, feeling the warmth return to my fingertips a few seconds after returning to the office. Nothing stood out to be an interval and I headed to the CEO’s desk, knowing that was the only place with an interface for the data cube to integrate.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I shifted the ruffled desk around, till I found a data cube slot, which sat on the right-hand side of the desk. I slipped it into the slot and a motor sound kicked in. A screen rolled up from the back of the desk and the datacube began to load slowly.
Once it did, a folder popped up, with five file names. Barneth Olao.mz4, Pekio Teln.mz4, Irath Ven.mz4, Dmitar Preo.mz4 and Suleth Argon.mz4. I clicked on the first file with Barnet Olao’s name and watched as the file expanded to cover the 22” screen.
A video loaded up, what seemed to be a house security camera. In it, a man was sitting behind his home office desk, typing away on his holokeypad. Behind him was a bookcase, with hundreds of books. On either side of him planted, sitting on a rug that outstretched the entire area. The chairs that sat opposed to him were grandeur in design, with armrests and maroon cushions stapled onto the chair. I felt as though I was looking into the past.
A figure appeared out of nowhere wearing a white mask with no features and raised its pistol. Whoever it was in the video, stopped what he was doing and raised his hands. I squinted and even zoomed in with my cybernetic eye but the quality of the video was too poor, not allowing me to read his lips. That didn’t matter, though. I knew he was pleading for his life.
A flash of fire sparked around the nozzle of the assassin’s gun and blood splattered across the bookcase, smearing half of it in blood. The man fell face forward and matter began pouring from his head onto the holokeypad. Brutal. I swallowed my saliva, keeping my stomach in check.
I double-tapped on the second video, Pekio Teln. It expanded once again, covering the whole screen. This time, it was someone else, sitting on an open balcony at the back of what I assumed was their yard. The foliage around it was vibrant, green, yellow, and purple mostly. Whoever the man was, he sat on the bench within the balcony, behind a bannister with his feet lapped. He looked at peace, as he watched his garden sway from left to right, allowing the wind to take control of the stems.
Another figure appeared out of nowhere with a white mask covering their face, pistol raised and pressed against the man’s right temple. He raised his hands and I tried to read his lips, hoping to decipher what he was trying to say, but the camera was too far away. His brains splattered across the wall to his right and dropped like a bag of potatoes slamming his head against the bannister.
I watched the remaining names and they were all the same. Assassins taking names off the board. Surgical. Precise and most importantly, quite deadly. I didn’t even have to wonder who the people in the video were. It was clear, Lyiez Systems Board of Directors.
Stepson Vizare said that he was being framed, but most CEOs were narcissists with no empathy for everyone, so he could be lying. He could’ve ordered these hits, and this cube was proof of the murder, assurance. It was known as POK, Proof of Kill, and this certainly did that.
Alright…let's see.
I began making my way through the archway and heard a bellowing crack groaning through the air, in the form of a gunshot. I scampered through the archway only to find someone standing right next to Stepson Vizare's dangling corpse with blood spraying to his left all over the floor.
The Assassin turned to me, wearing a white mask with no facial features, similar to the one in the video and my heart skipped multiple beats as I made a step forward, readying myself to dive back into the office.
I love this city…but it hates me.
I felt my feet swept from the floor as I began floating in the air for a brief moment. I crashed to the ground, sending waves of pain through my back and buttocks. I didn’t have time to check, so I tried kicking myself up but met a revolver pressed into my temple.
“Easy…” A second assailant said. “My hands get shaky at times like this.”
The revolver burrowed into my temple and the urge to survive was about to kick in, but I stopped myself. In the corner of my Cybernetic eye, I saw the assailant, who had just blown out Stepson’s brain, train his revolver on me, halting any attempt I had of countering this situation.
“Now that we’re all familiar with each other, let's get down to business, Cypher,” the first assailant said in a gruff tone.
I pushed myself up against the wall, sitting down, defeated. The second assailant slowly backed away but kept his pistol trained on me. It was steady, which meant his hands were far from shaky.
The two men stood next to each other wearing nothing but featureless white masks, and translucent bodysuits that mirrored the surroundings. Active camouflage, I thought, realising they were the same men that killed the board of directors.
“You killed the Lyiez Systems Board.”
“No…we cleaned up.”
“Why?”
“Cypher, you wanna play detective? That’s not your role.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look around…weren’t you listening? Lyiez Systems engaged in illegal activities against The Federation, cloning…outside Federation jurisdiction. That earns you death.”
“I never heard of such.”
“The same way we’ve never heard of your assassination of Hortot Calisum, The Latrina Emperor.”
I ground my teeth, watching as the second assailant turned to the first and whispered something into his ear. The first one then tossed a picture to me, it floated a little too perfect as it touched and slid across the ground, perfectly upright. It was the same picture Mr Black showed me, displaying his power.
“You bastards,” I growled, snatching the picture up and balling it in my fist.
“I take it we have an understanding then?” The second assailant said.
I bitterly nodded in agreement and watched as the first assailant slid his gun into a dangling dead hand, then whipped the nozzle clean of my sweat.
…and just like that…Stepson Vizare is dead. Suicide.
“I can’t write this report…I don’t have enough details to ensure it sticks to Stepson,” I said.
The second assailant tossed a small device at me, which I caught with my natural arm, “You don’t have to write shit. Everything you need is in that data cube, send it off to your little commissioner and everything will be A-Ok, got it?”
“Right…”
The two assailants stared me down for two minutes, ensuring they left an impression on me. They succeeded, but not with the impression they wanted. I was pissed, within a space of two hours, I’d been threatened regarding the most precious thing to me, and it was from the same man. “Let Mr Black know I don't think I’ll be taking that offer of his,” I said coldly.
The two assailants turned to each other in unison and looked at me confused as ever. “Who the hell is Mr Black?” The first assassin said. “We’re done here Cypher.” The second assassin said, then, both of them left me in the room with Stepson’s corpse, which grew colder by the second.
“FUCK!”