TWO: PART 1

Location: City of Haven

Date: April 27th, 2037

Time: 21:16

“Do you have it?” The voice had asked.

Karma didn’t even try to hide the groan that escaped his lips as he pulled a flash drive out of a computer that sat before him after it had just finished a ten-minute file transfer. “If I say yes,” He started, “will you stop calling me back every five minutes asking, ‘do you have it? Do you have the thing yet?’?” He continued in an exaggerated, mocking voice.

The person on the other end of the phone call said nothing, an unimpressed silence awkwardly filling his ear.

“Yes, I have the fucking data, now fuck off.” He said, hanging up the phone and pocketing it with the flash drive. He reflected on how much he hated this part of the job. He deemed himself above being someone’s lacky, especially since there were many people under him. Yet for some reason he was still sent on annoying snatch and grab jobs that he had far too little interest in, and as he stepped out onto the street, he finally took notice of how in the open he was.

Though it was well into the evening and dark outside, the streets of Haven were never quiet or empty in the downtown sections, no matter the hour of night. He had no idea how he had not noticed how exposed he was, and that he wasn’t likely getting a ride back, just as there was unlikely to be a clean up crew to sort of the mess of blood and bodies he had left behind from the resistance and the pour souls who were involved in the data he had just stolen, the ones who had seen too much, the ones who could not be allowed to live.

It was not work he particularly enjoyed, but as long as he was getting paid, life was good. He could finally afford a shower, clothes, a haircut, and though he didn’t know how well the shorter hair suited him, he didn’t put too much thought into it. It was just hair at the end of the day, it meant nothing. And though his style didn’t change, his monotone, colourless outfits were at least not tattered and dirty, except for the blood that ended up on them, but Project Valhalla, his company of employment had surprisingly good laundry, so he was never worried.

Switching his phone back on and making another call, he soon confirmed that he would not be getting a ride home at all. He was unsure if it was because of how in the opened things were, or if it was his employer’s intolerance to his attitude, that prompted that outcome. He assumed it was a little bit of both. He looked out into the night as the many lights of Haven’s infrastructure lit up the busy street before him.

It was a cool night with a nice breeze, but warm enough that no jackets were required for the majority of people. He could see some stars shining through the major light pollution that Haven gave off at night, but found the many signs, L.E.D lights, light shows and searchlights aimed skyward much more noticeable and visually interesting, not that he cared. It was just that his lights darted around to the many distractions around him, and though he was far from the night life, the lights and the music that often accompanied them street by street hit his ear faintly.

He knew his eyes were betraying him and falling to the basic human instincts of distraction and captivation, exploited traits used to draw interest from those inhabiting the streets. People were more likely to go to the clubs with more visual and audible interest, and with so many places, time became irrelevant.

People came and went, hopping from establishment to establishment, time warping into a blur of sounds and faint memories that came to a halt when the piercing light of the sun shone through the streets and met the eyes of the now realizing tired victims of the night’s grasp.

None of it ever made any sense to Karma. He didn’t understand the appeal, the want to do those things. Perhaps he just liked sleep too much.

It had taken half an hour for Karma to get back to his headquarters, though it did not come from walking. He had his own methods of moving quickly that often drew lots of eyes but became rather safe to do unseen when wearing all black during the dead of night. He didn’t bother staying at the headquarters though, and in fact didn’t even enter. He simply passed it, slipping the flash drive into the pocket of a short, Korean girl with long black hair cut into bangs at the front.

She dressed similar to him, a black baggy hoddie over a white shirt, dressed casually for a nighttime stroll. She was young, only a few years his junior. It was interesting how young the members of Obsolete often were, or any of the Underworld personal for that matter. He had seldom met anyone over forty unless they were of a high rank with say over what went on around them. The regulars, the agents of the many Underworld organizations, were all young. Agents in their prime tended to be more effective than those beyond it, and death rates were high enough as it was with their line of work that long careers in the field were not commonplace.

“Tell the big man the next time he expects me to walk back, I’ll put his head through a wall.” Karma had told the girl as he passed, not stopping to speak to her or do anything more than free himself from the burden of the flash drive.

She said nothing, just nodding as he walked off and turned back toward the headquarters entrance.

Haven’s night life was something known around the world, beating any other city that had been well known for such things before it worldwide. It had all of the same establishments, and was just as loud, and over the years had become a hot spot and attraction around the world for such a scene. Strip clubs, arcades, night clubs, bars and restaurants, stores of many kinds which opened only in the night hours, all of them lined the streets by the hundreds, mixed together in a labyrinth of establishments designed to keep people moving from one to another so they never go home.

It seemed strange that a safe haven for those with abilities would have such things, but it was commonly believed to be done on purpose, to help break down the fear that came with the city among outsiders. A common thought was that it was very dangerous due to its high activity of ability users, though the general public of Haven though otherwise.

Karma found it odd how much time he spent in the entertainment district despite how much he had no interest in any of it. It was his work that brought him there. In the night was the best time to operate, where they could be less seen. Yet, as stereotypes went, it was also when the crime families awoke, the gangs and low lives became active, and when back alleys and abandoned warehouses became hot spots for those who the city would consider a threat.

Though Karma never dealt with common criminals. There were matters for the police to handle, and there were matters for the Underworld to handle. What Karma handled, was the worst of the worst, the dirty work for the city that saw him facing the genuine threats that no enforcement force could ever be prepared to handle. The dangers that outsiders often assumed was rampant throughout a city like Haven.

They were a necessary evil, The Underworld, built to protect by being the very thing its was meant to destroy. A part of that honestly made Karma happy. The hypocrisy and desperation of it all was humorous to him.

Karma couldn’t remember a time he had gone into one of these places for anything other than work. However, he had run into Bing during his travels, to which Karma assumed the Android was tracking his phone. Since Bing had tagged along with him uninvited, he was starting to feel what it may have been liked for the normal folk who found it all fun.

He was still working, and running into the Android was an unfortunate circumstance that he had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to remedy. His target was a nightclub in the centre of things, which he had been leading them to the whole time, but figuring out how to lose Bing without raising too much suspicion was the real challenge of his evening.

“So, why are you looking for me anyway? Worried all of the sudden?” Karma asked his robotic friend, as if the android could feel real worry. He felt nothing in a truly human way, his version of worry was calculating odds of success, and preferring to not go things with low odds. Analyzing situations, that was the extent of his emotion.

“I was talking to Avery.” Bing said as he walked beside his albino like friend. “You should go see her, its been a year.”

“Yeah.” Karma said. “I know. I’ve been meaning too, she keeps reaching out.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Safety reasons I guess?” Karma replied. “I don’t want her getting caught up in more shit. She’s good now, she’s out, and she’s got a place. If I go back, she’ll probably get dragged into something and she doesn’t deserve that.”

“What danger? Are you up to something, Karma?”

“No!” Karma snapped.

“Well, you’re always off doing, whatever it is you do, which you refuse to tell me.”

“It’s classified for a reason. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I also wish you’d drop it already, its for your own safety and mine.”

“You can’t lie to me Karma.” Bing said, looking over at him as they passed between a large crowd of people. Karma was still looking straight ahead, walking his usual heavy, robotic, flowless pace.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The street and sidewalk were busy, and the night was getting cooler by the minute. Many people were out in sweaters, those that weren’t looked cold. Lines for bars and clubs were filled with shivering, underdressed would be customers that for some reason wouldn’t just leave. Karma could see his breath, and the breath of passerby’s. What he could not see was Bing’s breath.

The android didn’t have one. It was just one of the many other things that made him look off, that made him look uncanny and strange. Karma never minded it, he was not put off so easily by such things, but people often got uncomfortable around him, or androids in general. Bing looked human in every way, though a bit cartoonish with his yellowed hair tips and the black, non-functioning eye that was a result of an injury a few years back which had yet to be repaired.

The scar down his face didn’t help his case either. Cut synthetic skin that could not heal, only be sowed together crudely or replaced took away from the naturalness of him. He was too smooth, no blemishes, marks, imperfections of any sort. He was completely symmetrical as well. At a glance, or from a distance, one would not know, but looking closely as he spoke, it wasn’t right. The mouth movements were not perfect, the stretching of skin, wrinkles and folds so natural and normal in people were gone.

His expressions, though mimicking human expression, was never right. He was an imitation of a human, the best that could be made at the time of his manufacture, but he was an old model, and it was showing compared to newer androids.

Although Karma’s appearance and stiff, robotic movements made him look uncanny too. They both made people around them uncomfortable, even in a city with such a broad spectrum of looks, they still stood out in ways people tended not too few as fondly as other standouts.

“What are you talking about?”

Bing waited to speak as a large truck drove by. “About why you don’t see Avery. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t recall saying you were. Look, I just have a lot going on right now.”

“For the past year?” Bing asked, cocking an eyebrow. Another one of those imitated expressions, the lack of folds in his brow just made it look odd. “So much going on that you’re hanging out in the entertainment district. What could you possibly be doing for work around here? Unless you are employed at one of these places?”

Karma waved him off. “I’m meeting a client, and no you can’t be there.”

“This is kind of a loud, open place for business, no?”

“It’s a business owner, what can I say?”

Bing knew a losing fight when he saw one. There was no arguing with Karma. There was always an excuse, always a back exit, always a dodge. It was impossible to get anywhere, and so he opted to change the subject after calculating the possibility of getting any information out of him to be a maximum of three percent. He did not like those odds at all, not one bit. “Have you eaten?” He asked.

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. Any chance I can get you to grab something for me?” He asked as he saw the word Solution in big, bright letters above the entrance to an oncoming building.

“So you can ditch me? Yeah, good try Karma.” He said.

“Bing please. Can you just leave me alone tonight? I’m still on the job, I still have shit to do. This isn’t how jobs work, can’t just drag around outsiders. You don’t have to like that I’m holding things from you but can you at least respect that and get off my ass before I get in shit from my employer? Cause that won’t be good for you either, cause then you’ll really have to deal with me.” He threatened, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk as he spoke, the people parting and flowing around them, a few comments being hurled their way about stopping in pedestrian traffic. They ignored them all.

Bing sighed, though no air left his body. “Ill get you something. How long are you going to be?”

“An hour tops. Not even. I expect this to go quickly.”

“And what do you want?”

Karma shrugged. “There's a Chinese food place around the corner. They have good food. I’ll eat anything, just don’t spend too much.”

Bing nodded, and in his usual fashion he glitched away without a word. Karma suspected he would land in the middle of the restaurant floor, and likely terrify the workers. He had a knack for showing up unexpected, and a complete disregard for walls, doors, privacy, and proper entering etiquette.

Karma turned, and headed toward the night club. He did not bother with the line or the door, and instead slipped into the alleyway at its side and headed for its rear. He wasn’t allowed there, but there wouldn’t be anyone who could stop him.

There was a girl back there. She stood waiting, fidgeting and looking uncomfortable, and seemed to jump out of her skin was Karma accidently kicked something metallic at his feet and it slid several meters out and hit a dumpster.

“Theta.” He said, greeting her. She was a small girl, barely five feet and with shoulder length black hair. She was frail, soft, and looked too nervous for someone who was just uncomfortable being in a restricted area.

Karma didn’t know how terrified she was of him, and of alley ways. Being such a small girl, there was not much she could do to fend off an attacker, and from the stories she heard, she wasn’t fond of dark places at night. Since Karma scared her two, she didn’t like combining the two fears. Karma was her boss, she had to do what he said. Was he there to harm her? Why had he messaged her to meet him there anyway?

She was on the mission alone, assigned by the higher ups, and wasn’t told of any backup. Being the rank he is however, allowed him to attach himself to any job. Her paranoia came in the form of questions, many questions that he didn’t have answers to, like why he was there and what he wanted? Did he want to hurt her? Or take over the mission and thus get her pay? Was he mad at her?

Her anxiety took It so far that just the sight of his face before her filled her with an existential dread. She thought she was going to die, die in the horrible ways she had heard he killed people. She had never worked with hm before, she had rarely ever spoken to him. He always seemed so indifferent to her. He must have seen her as just some weak kid. Yet, his mind was always blank about such things. She never knew exactly what his opinions of her were because he didn’t seem to have any at all, his mind was always elsewhere.

She said nothing as he walked up to her. She was only two thirds his height. He towered over her, his naturally angry looking, blunt expressions only intimidated her more, his mind was always neutral, careless, just going through the days. He was the worst enemy of a mind reader, someone who didn’t care and didn’t bother with anything enough to form opinions, it was so unlike everyone who had so many conscious and unconscious thoughts that she could know exactly what they thought about her and everything and everyone else.

“You look lost.” Karma said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Don't worry. You’re in the right place.”

“Y-yeah.” She said, stuttering a bit. She was looking at her feet, fidgeting with her hands, unsure what to do. He was judging her, he had to be. Yet, he wasn’t killing her, or hurting her...yet. Would that come later? The questions never stopped.

“I was told to meet you here so...” She trailed off.

“Yeah. Let’s get this quick, I just finished a job for them and was hoping to be off for the evening.” He replied. “This always on call situation is bullshit.”

Theta was what Karma’s organization, Project Valhalla, considered a scout. They were there to retrieve information, not to dispatch threats. Though some scouts were combat capable, Theta was not. She was however, gifted with an extraordinarily rare power, which allowed all the other requirements of physicality and combat capabilities to be overlooked. That however, often made her a liability, not that the higher ups ever took it into consideration that she was no fighter and would not survive a mission going sour. For such a rare ability, they seemed to have no problem wasting her.

She just nodded sheepishly. “I was just supposed to meet with a guy, I’m supposed to...” She could barely get a word out. She was stuttering and hesitating, fumbling nervously.

Karma was getting impatient, he couldn’t stand fragile, nervous messes who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He crossed his arms and sighed as he waited for her to get the rest out. This was a thought she did pick up on, which didn’t help her anxiety in the slightest.

“Um-” She said, and swallowed. “They gave me a name and told me to meet up with you downtown, I didn’t know where to go until you messaged me to come here.” She said, trying to get to the point.

Karma just nodded. “I got the same name.”

“They said you would brief me when I found you.” She added.

Karma shook his head. “Lazy bastards. Those old asses need to learn how copy and paste works. Or group messaging, then they wouldn’t have to write out mission briefings multiple times.” It infuriated karma that the powerful people who were running the show were so outdated with current technology, they could not efficiently run and manage their agents in a timely manner.

Their laziness on top of that made for poor leadership. Their refusal to use the Underworld’s communication department to send very specific, highly important missions like the one they were on baffled him. The communications workers would do nothing about it, would not care about the information, and the information would still get to whoever it needed to get to.

Karma thought about it a lot, the flaws in the system, the broken cogs in the machine. He was ranting in his head, and Theta heard all of it. She was realizing then that Karma was not there to kill her, punish her, or do anything. He was just yet another worker dissatisfied with employers who were lazy and outdated and didn’t care for the ideas of subordinates. That made him remarkably relatable, as that was the story of most people.

“Everything they told me is useless at worst and vague at best. They want to keep it a secret, even from me I guess.”

“The person doing the job for them, yeah. Cause why inform your agents about what they have to do?” He asked sarcastically. “I guess we should just figure it out.”

She smirked sheepishly, feeling that he was rying to joke wither, but her anxiety got far too in the way.

“Well, I didn’t get what you got, so show me what they told you, we can compare notes.”

Serina, codename Theta, took out her Underworld phone. It was a large, black cell phone of an outdated model. All the Underworld phones were outdated, off the grid, connected to the Underworld Intranet and that was it. She pulled up the message and gave the device to him. He took a look at the work order. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before he finally spoke.

“I guess they need someone who can poke around, still not sure what I’m snooping for though. A thought confession?”

Karma shrugged. “This is all very on brand for them.” “You aware of the tensions with the higher ups lately?” He asked her.

“Not really. I heard there were issues, but I don’t know the details.”

“There were supposed to be nine of them, but some of them brought on a tenth. Because of that decisions can now be voted fifty-fifty, which is not good since nothing can get done. Five of them want to run things one way, the other five want another way, and they can’t agree. Now us, the grunts at the bottom are in service to both of them but it seems we are all either favoured more by one or the other of these sides. So now they use us to do their dirty work, proxies to do their bidding because that’s easier than them solving their disputes.”

Serina was confused. She didn’t understand why any of it was relevant or affected them, or what it had to do with their mission. She didn’t say anything, and just nodded slowly.

“The right side is very radical and wants to change things, the left side wants to keep them as they are. We have rules for a reason, and the right has been trying to bend them for their own agenda. I can’t say what that agenda is because I don’t know. All I know is that the people of the left side have asked us to look around. This club’s owner is apparently a contact of the right, and the left is suspecting the right is using him to bend some of our rules, toward making their wanted changes. A list of crimes is tied to this person, but we don’t know who it is. I was sent here to find this person and confirm his involvement with Underworld. I wasn’t told you were coming but, you being here makes things easier.”

She nodded again. She understood nothing he just said. All she got from it was a lot of lefts and rights, though she didn’t want to ask him to reexplain it out of fear that he might get mad. His wrath was something she hoped to never be on the other end of. “What’s the plan then?”

“I guess we should go have a drink.”