Beck
Wednesday, 14th of October, 198 A.C, 16:23
“We are the bulwarks against the Psychon threat. We are the laborers who repair the scars of disasters. We are the vigilant few who stamp out crime wherever it may lurk. We are The Watch.” - Watchman recruitment poster
No matter how many times I walked the streets of Spark, the sudden shifts in the cityscape still surprised me.
The city was arranged like a set of concentric circles, and each building I hurried past that led closer gained a floor or two and became gradually more grandiose in architecture. The roads shifted from asphalt to an ultra-strong glass, with digital lines and street lights powered by the solar panels placed underneath. More and more people milled about, and physical billboards were ditched in favor of massive LED screens that covered entire sides of buildings, advertising everything from the latest firearms produced by the Marten Munitions Corporation, to sizzle reels of various Veiled squads, and even one detailing a new prosthetic leg under development by Shell Cybernetics.
The city’s infrastructure was just as plastered with advertisements, like a customized set of traffic lights that, instead of the usual circular lights, shone with depictions of members of the Notch family, or a job listing for Tardiff Labs that utilized a section of LEDs under the glass of the sidewalk to catch the eye of anyone who was looking down.
As I went, I reflected on the events of the day. After having timidly followed the Deadeye for a few minutes she had brought us to another Veiled. The man, whose moniker Kai and I learned to be the Surgeon, treated my wounds and gave us advice on handling the stress of having survived a Psychon attack. My arm would be bandaged for a good few days, as well as the bottom right of my face.
The Surgeon did say that overall we were pretty lucky. My physical wounds weren’t anything permanent, and he claimed that, while one could never tell for sure, he believed both of us to be well suited mentally to situations like fighting Psychon, Kai due to his experience and me because of my, as he called it, ‘naturally cheery demeanor.’
Truth be told, I wasn’t doing as well as I let on. I was still recovering from the exertion of fighting for my life, and the whole situation had me freaked out beyond what I could handle.
The Surgeon had informed us that every type of psychon had a different mental effect on their victims that matched the way they came about. Apparently lupi fed off mob mentality.
Still, I was somewhat reassured by the fact that I hadn’t been in any mortal danger thanks to the Deadeye. I supposed I would be able to put it behind me with time.
Kai was another matter entirely. If anything, the combination of a Psychon attack and meeting a Veiled had emboldened him. We had exchanged Chipper IDs when we parted ways, and ever since he had flooded me with messages about what had gone down. He seemed almost giddy about it all.
I put Kai out of my mind as I navigated through the interface of my Chipper, reading through the numerous messages Dad had left me. They were all various forms of, ‘Oh god, I heard there was a Psychon attack, are you ok? What happened?’
I felt pretty bad about having not answered any of them, but I wanted to assure him that I was ok in person. Hence the rush to get back to the apartment where we lived.
I noticed that a news bulletin had whizzed up alongside me, the two rotor blades underneath it struggling to keep it up at head height.
It was a wonder these things still flew, considering how much abuse they took during their daily routes. Dad was always complaining about how much tax money President Hapley was spending on keeping them running, since it was the corporations that really owned and used them.
I glanced at the bulletin’s screen to see if the news about my school had broken. In fact it had, though it was relegated to the little strip that runs across the bottom of the screen for smaller stories. The bigger story being reported on was, as always, the latest exploits of the Veiled.
At last, I spotted the building I called home. I almost broke out into a run, but remembered the Surgeon’s advice to not overdo it and managed to restrain myself.
I rushed through the lobby and hit the call button for the elevator. I almost exploded waiting for the elevator, only for me to hit the button for the 57th floor and wait even longer.
Finally, the elevator doors opened, and I walked up to the door of apartment #5753.
I rapped on the door four times in quick succession, waited a second, then knocked two more times. It was a silly morse code pattern that we had thought up years ago. I still liked to use it when I knew Dad was home, even though I carried a key with me wherever I went.
I had only just begun thinking about what I was going to say when the door opened and any train of thought I had disappeared. Dad stood on the other side, his weather-worn face a mixture of worry and relief.
We both stood there for a few seconds, not doing anything save for reminding ourselves that the other person really was there. I had been trying to keep my mind off of the weight of the day’s events, but seeing him made it all come rushing back in one massive wave.
I rushed him, burying my head in his torso and wrapping my good arm around him in a hug with enough force to knock him back a few steps.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried, “I’m so, so sorry.”
In response he simply returned the hug and rested his chin on top of my head as I sobbed into his chest. When we finally broke he closed the door behind me and gently wiped the tears from my face.
He gave me one of those grins that said, ‘I’m about to make a joke that I really shouldn’t’
“Come on, Beck, how’d you manage to even get noticed by those things? Must be all that vibrant red hair dye, no way would they see a target as small as you otherwise.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I managed a grin back, and straightened up a little. “I’m not that little! Give me some credit here!”
“Mmm, I’m not so sure about that,” Dad said wryly. “You’re only up to my chest, and I’m not even that tall.” He ruffled my hair.
I took off my shoes and hung up my bag. I couldn’t wait to sink into the couch and let my worries melt away.
Dad gestured towards my arm and face. “Now then, it looks like you got some action in. What’s the story?”
Taking his queue, I struck a pose and started regaling my tale in my most dramatic voice. “There I was, minding my own business, walking down the hall on my way to lunch, when *BAM!*” I slammed the coffee table with my good arm for emphasis. “Five Psychons emerged from the floor, each wolf-shaped and twice as big as me. I tried to run, but despite my agility I couldn’t outpace the lockdown measures. Seeing no way out, I took out my trusty baton and became a blur on the battlefield. None of them could touch me.”
My dad raised a bushy eyebrow, looking pointedly at my injured arm. “Is that so?”
I deflated a little. “Ok, so that isn’t really how it went down. I took on two of them, and got some pretty nasty bites on the arm. As for my face, it turns out that lupi have quite the acidic drool. There were actually five Psychons, but Kai took on the other three.”
Dad brought the other eyebrow up to meet with its partner. “And who, pray tell, is this Kai character?”
I shot him a look. “Just some guy.” I said flatly. “Though I might’ve found a friend in him. I guess fighting alongside someone will do that.”
“Mhmm,” Said Dad.
To avoid an awkward silence, I changed topics. “Enough about that,” I said, “You’re looking worse than me!”
It wasn’t that much of an overstatement. His dark hair was in disarray, he had bags under his eyes, and his courier’s uniform was disheveled. He had evidently forgotten to take it off when he got home from work.
“Ach, I’m not that bad.” He replied. “Old Kuno Hartmann’s going to manage just fine. If you keep getting into situations like this though, I’m afraid the last of my hair is going to turn grey.”
A shadow suddenly passed over Dad’s face. “Are you sure you haven’t left anything out of your story? Like, say, how you got treated? That doesn’t look like a first aid job.”
This was the question I was fearing. I took a deep breath, and prepared for the inevitable. “Don’t worry, this was a free treatment. In truth…” I paused, looking down. “In truth, we were saved by a Veiled, and I was treated by her partner free of charge.”
I cringed a little. Veiled had always been a point of contention with Dad. Sure enough, a familiar crease in his brow appeared as he prepared to launch into the speech that I had heard countless times before.
“What have I told you about relying on the Veiled for help, Rebecca?” Dad began. Full first name, never a good sign.
“Listen, Dad.” I interjected in a vain attempt to stop what was about to be coming, “I know all about the ‘Evils of the Veiled’, ok? I don’t need a lecture right now. I was injured, they helped me. End of story. I doubt I’ll ever see them again. Ever heard of the Deadeye and the Surgeon? Me neither. They’re probably some two-bit bounty hunters with rich parents that paid for their tuition.”
Dad seemed unconvinced. “Beck, it’s the low profile ones that you have to worry about the most!”
Well, I tried my best. I got comfortable as I prepared myself for the oncoming rant.
“Do you know what other Veiled flew under the radar? That damned squad that was being paid to watch for the Psychon attack eleven years ago. If they hadn’t been too busy getting shitfaced at the nearest bar to protect us from the attack, I might have actually been able to afford a comfortable life for you, not this squalor we live in now. But no, only low-paying jobs inside Spark now. And every time I turn on the news it’s another murder justified as a bounty mission, another business raided by a squad that was *definitely not* hired by a company, another establishment wrecked by a Veiled that didn’t think that they were being given special enough treatment. And you know what the worst part is? All this is sanctioned by the government. After all, why would the government actually do their job and help us out, when they could fold to the corporations whenever the pressure’s on?”
His anger turned suddenly into severe exhaustion. I felt bad. He had enough going on without me almost getting myself killed.
Also, he had a point. The Veiled were in all essence legalized bounty hunters, doing whatever jobs people hired them for. That included courier jobs, so Dad often competed with them for contracts.
I waited for him to calm down a bit, then said, “Well, at least school’s going to be out for a while. Guess that means the biggest, baddest father-daughter bonding session of all time?” I rolled off the couch and offered a fist bump. “What do you say?”
“How can I say no to that?” Dad said. “Here’s to the silver lining.”
He accepted the fist bump, having visibly calmed down. “Well, guess we should get some dinner, huh? I’m pretty sure we’re out of leftovers, so how about we celebrate you not dying with some take out?”
“That sounds great!” I chirped, glad to have defused the situation.
“Alright then,” said Dad, standing up, “How about some Chinese food?” I nodded my confirmation. “Then I’ll make the call and head out to pick it up. Don’t miss me too much, got it?” He winked, adjusted his uniform, put on his shoes, and headed out, talking to his Chipper as he placed the order.
I flopped onto the couch, glad for the day’s hardships to be over, and let my mind start to wander.
It was strange that we still called it Chinese food, or Indian food, or American food, or whatever all else, considering those countries hadn’t existed for almost two hundred years. I supposed it was just one of those things that stuck from before the Calamity since there wasn’t much point to changing it.
I tried to think of other examples of that. Pre-calamity pop culture was still surprisingly relevant, now that I thought about it. Every so often a courier or Veiled would find an old book or movie nobody had heard of and bring it back to be restored. People went crazy over that stuff.
Suddenly, my Chipper flashed an alert. Apparently, I had a new message. I flicked over to it, initially thinking that it was yet another message from Kai, but froze when I noticed that the contact name for the message was blank.
--message sent @ 17:34 --
Hey Munchkin!
Soooo, how’s it going? Your wounds healing nicely? I’m not going to gab here, I just have a quick message for you. Go to that super wide alley near the school (you know the one) at 15:00 on Saturday. And don’t forget it! We’ve got something to discuss. Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, Saturday is just the only time we could get everyone together.
⌖
----
It was around my third reading of the message that the gravity of things began to set in. Saturday was three days away!
I wracked my brain to come up with a plan. Whatever it was they wanted with me, I was almost certain that it wasn’t good. They could blackmail me, or coerce me into doing dirty work for them, the list went on.
Of course, it didn’t seem like I had much of a choice. If they could track my Chipper, they would no doubt be able to track me down if I didn’t show up.
I resolved to meet with Kai to talk about it. Getting a second opinion on the matter would help to clear my mind.
I thought back to what Dad had said about lesser-known Veiled. I could practically hear his voice in my mind, saying, “I told you so.”