An introduction of Night City and Aeva's struggle to survive. |
Shadows Chapter 1 Night City is alive. I don't mean this in some sort of half-baked philosophical sense. I mean that it is a living, breathing, manifestation of the fucked up and strange. But what can you expect with a place like this? You pack millions of people together in a massive glass prison reinforced with concrete and that's exactly what you'll get. Forget Antarctica. This was the most hostile, desolate, place on Earth. Between the gangs running rampant, the cops cashing credits to sit on their ass, and rogue borgs tearing things up it was a wonder how there's anything but a smoking crater. I've been here since I was born. Watched from the garbage filled streets how the rich got richer the poor got stepped on. It's the old story. If you weren't at the top there wasn't much elsewhere to be. Somehow, with the combat zones and corruption, I managed to make it through. I made Night City work for me. Knowing how to survive is the only game left for people like me. Back in the day there used be cities all the way from the tip of Maine to the bottom of Florida. Now it's just one enormous urban jungle that's devoured the whole of the eastern shore roughly about a state and a half wide. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I were anywhere else. The concept of trees and open fields nearly gives me a heart attack. Give me the tall sky scrapers, holo-ads, and the high rev of AV's blasting by. There's nothing like it anywhere else. Even a lowlife like me gets the chance to make something out of what little I got. You never know when that jack pot is going to roll in. You gotta play to win and that's all there is to it. Tonight could be that jack pot. Not like I'm crossing my fingers on this job but you never know. Speaking of jobs, it was time to get the tools and get to work. Con-aps are your best friend when it comes to cheap living space. Worst enemy if you want to be safe from neighbors. It's a 15 x 15 cell, pretty much, that has everything you need tucked away in automated compartments. Bed, bath, and beyond. I'd just checked the duffel before checking myself in the mirror. I saw what I expected. Short black hair with bit of spike to it, dark eye shadow adding some danger to my expression, and blue sharp eyes that held that hard street edge to them. I'd always had pale skin but the lack of sunlight through a thick smog didn't help anything either. Everything was in order. I grabbed the duffel and headed to the door. I tapped the door release on the side. It flashed open letting in that smell that almost sticks to your clothes. Like human waste and sweat. Somehow you never get used to it no matter what anybody says. The hall was pretty much barren save the graffiti on the walls. Lights flickered above in that annoying way making you think of B rate horror movies. About half a dozen doors down I hit the button for the lift and waited. I took my shades out from my jacket pocket and slid them on. Best specs you could get in the New York District. One press of a button and I got everything that I needed. Multi-spectrum scan, telescopic enhancement, antidazzle, night vision, targeting reticle, and combat read out. Everything that a girl needs. The lift doors popped open letting me through. The ride took a while being nearly 200 stories. It was like waiting at concession stand. You just want to get in and out but you're stuck in line and can't go back when you've had enough. Pain in the ass. The lift dings upon reaching its destination and a broken digital voice announced the lobby floor as the doors open. I step out looking through the light crowd of people moving in all directions. The lobby is gray concrete cave pretty much. It's got a large number of lifts spanning the back end with stairwells leading up to the numerous floors. I can see the street through the glass windows and automatic doors facing out. I head out with a steady gait being careful not to bump into any of the half tweaked pick pockets that could be shifting through the crowd. Next thing I know the comm's ringing. My onboard display show's an incoming transmission. I shoulder the duffel and tap the answer key on my Smart Strap. It's like a bracelet but has the power of a computer: never leave home without it. A video link pulls through enlarging an image of Preacher. His dark skin was hard to really focus on with the way the image was transparent but you could see the scar running down from his forehead to the lower jaw. Best guy to have at your back if you wanted to stay alive in a fight. He'd been a merc for years after ditching the service. Kinda how all merc's get their badge really. No shortage of work to get you started if you had the stones for it. If you were smart you didn't trust anybody in Night City but he was trustworthy somehow. "Preacher, what's up?" By now I'd hit the street and had started toward the meet point. "You moving yet?" He sounded cranky. "Yeah, just hit the road, you in a hurry? I'll there on time don't worry." "Good. We're on the move, should be seeing you there just as you come in." "Seriously? You just called to let me know you're on schedule?" I hate stupid crap like that. Preacher scowled given my indignant tone. "No. There's been a hiccup. Things are going to be more bumpy than usual. I was letting you know so that you can be ready." His face didn't show signs of anything other than calm. Always made it difficult when trying to figure out what he was thinking. "Alright. How bumpy though? Like dirt road bumpy or monster truck rally mishap bumpy?" "It's pretty bad. I'll brief you when you get here. Preacher out." His line cut off before I could squeak another word. "Damnit, hate it when he does that." I pushed it for the last 20 minutes of the walk. The streets were crowded by buildings all around glowing and flickering with the giant holo-ads and billboards. They flashed with the latest and greatest in hair products, clothes, sex toys, you name it. At street level this only made things look like there was a constant lightning storm with no thunder. As I walked through the scattered groups of people I caught the wiff of food cooking, and industrial gases. This was coupled with the continuous sound of people talking, bartering, or shouting all manner of things. A rainbow of neon colors coming from the shops and small time dive bars added that extra umph of seedy lifestyle that you wouldn't get anywhere else. No place like home. Doesn't take long to get where you're going so long as you know what you're doing. With three minutes to spare I'd managed to get to Brocker's. Looks like a pawn shop but is so much more. You can walk in there and get everything you need. If you have something for a deck that needs fixed, he's got it. Need a sandwich? He's got that too. The name of the shop was just a big neon B inside of a circle. Sometimes simple is better I guess. Hard to forget something like that. Walking to the door and leaning on the wall I linked up checking the latest scream sheets for anything new. No better way to get your news. I watched the interface rezz up on my display as scrolling documents showing the top stories of the day. Murder, murder, accidental death, drug dealer caught kidnapping some kid, body found with head missing. Jesus... "God people are twisted." I said to myself not caring if passersby thought I was nuts. Which may actually be a fair assessment. The Roadster--a heavily armored van basically--rolled up to the street. The folding side door compressed to the ground making a ramp. I could see Preacher standing in the breachway. "Preacher. What took ya? I was getting bored." All I got was a low grunt for a response before he turned back inside. Preacher was an intimidating figure. Pretty much all muscle with a side of tall. The inside of the Roadster was barely tall enough for him to stand up without ducking. His bald head showed some bumps under the skin where he'd been given his bionic enhancements. He wore an armored jacket with black fatigues and a good number of harnesses with a pistol, ammo, med kit, and of course a grenade or two. The inside of the vehicle was littered with goodies. Two benches sat on both sides toward the back with lock bars and rings for holding unwanted guests. A locked cabinet stored guns, munitions, and other necessities for quick use. Opposite side next to the breachway was a mobile command setup with computer, interlink, and a chair riveted to the floor. I hit the hatch lock and the door rolled up sealing tight. "Let's roll!" I stepped to the front and took a seat in the empty chair. "Seatbelt..." Preacher stared ahead making no sign of moving the vehicle until I complied. "God," I huffed yanking the belt across then locking the buckle in, "You okay now grandma? You think we could stop for some ice cream on the way if we have the time?" "Here's what you need to know." He stated without engaging my sniping comment. He also dropped a pad in my hand with the mission specs displayed on the front. "How do you do that? You must have taken lessons or something." I browsed the info on the pad looking for what he had mentioned earlier. Then I found the bump. "Are you fucking serious?!" I could feel my face turning red with fury. "Well I'm not joking." Preacher stated flatly. "How the hell do we expect to get in without being giant red targets? We don't have the tech on our own to pull this off. Might as well just step up to security and knock on their helmets." Preacher just smirked, "You done?" I thought about it. "...Sure." This was bad. "So what the hell now?" "I pulled a favor. It's a little messier but it will get the job done. We lose some time and that's about it. Keep reading." I did. "Okay fine, you got someone on the inside to drop security for... 7 minutes? I guess that's going to have to work." I took a deep breath. "We gotta wait for this guy to throw the switch though. That's going to take some timing." "Yup. Which is your thing Aeva. Never had a problem before." He smiled at me with a fat cat look. "God you suck." I fell back in my seat exasperated. "Are we gonna drive outta here or are you just gonna wait for a meter maid to give you a ticket?" |