Chapter 4: Security Consultants

Solus calls in another can of coffee to process Leyland’s update, Carlson Wade was a big fish, hell he was a whale compared to the other fixers that ran the East 26 Dome. “Alright, you said yes did you? She inquired “Told him I’d ask you first”

“Alright, I’ll do the talking. Meet me at the street by Tess’ Grill”

“Way ahead of you, the Impala has new wheels by the way”

“Let me drive”

“In your dreams Solus”

Once Leyland cut off, Solus didn’t waste any time getting ready. A shower would take too long, a simple vapor cleanse would have to do. She quickly realized that it’d been a full week since she’s had a proper shower.

Ever since they took the rescue assignment, neither she or Leyland really had time to take a break. Though last night’s celebration was pretty epic, it now seemed fleeting given the nature of their current client. After stepping off the hygiene pod, she checks up on a couple of combat jackets.

Layered with bulletproof fibers and damage sensors, the things were practically battle suits. She’d take the blue synthsilk since it matched the white shock proof t shirt she was wearing but the black carbon leather was better protection.

A year ago, she’d have taken style over practicality, but climbing the ladder to local dome glory always meant you’d get more enemies, a couple of scars over her still human rib cages would contest to that. Solus exited her apartment block to the relatively warm climate controlled atmosphere of Dome 26: Cebu Sector. Or as the locals called it, 26D. Being further inland than the rest of the city, 26D had the luxury of having less Court scheduled rainfall thus the entire Dome had more pleasant weather, courtesy of Climate Control.

Quickly heading towards the elevator, she ignores the myriad of context customized ads that blared her name as she walked past them. Despite the relative dullness of the hour, 12pm, her apartment block was already rife with activity. A few Megacorp employees on a cigarette break and the local bookies betting on anything they could find, for now it was kids on local VR consoles for the community tournaments. In other districts you’d see gamblers trying to get players to throw games but Priv Sec made sure no one rattled the kids at least most of the time.

Crime was relatively low, since a Megacorp had residential rights to the area, and Thelma-Dionis liked to keep things civil in this sector, at least in the blocks where their loyal white and blue collars did their due diligence. The elevator was empty, and stank of bleach and clorox. She could smell the faint traces of puke clinging to the steel structure, could have been hers or someone else's.

It takes the elevator some three minutes to arrive at ground floor, immediately she’s greeted by a myriad of smells coming from the food stands run by remnants of the old Filipino culture, rice cakes, sugar stained grilled pig or chicken guts, deep fried banana spring rolls and others she couldn’t discern despite the cybernetic implant on her nose. She traversed through the rest of the street market, which contained pockets from every corner of the world, she’d been in and out of these corners for years but it still retained its South East Asian melting pot charm. “Solus!” A figure called her name, he sat by the wall of a restaurant that had a huge hologram of an old woman flipping pork chops on a grill. Leyland had a book in hand, and like Solus was wearing a black carbon leather jacket, his 9mm and handheld 12 gauge pistol were peeking from the inside. “What you reading nerd?” She asked, as she gave him a fist bump “Robotics Design, gonna be needing this shit when he get bigger ops”

“Just d******d it to your implant” she scoffed, “hell, d******ding just means you can read it with your brain. Reading it means the shit sticks to your thinking” Leyland was older, a ginger and had a ton of strength implants but relied less on his brain chips. Sometimes Solus found it too old fashioned for her liking, but he’d been a good friend, practically family at this point.

“Sure nerd. So where to?” she asks “right over there” Leyland points a finger at a nearby black Rolls Royce with Chrome linings. Its wheels where spherical, and it hummed with the low growl of a fusion core engine, a power source normally reserved for war machines. Solus whistles at the sight of it. “East 26D Netrunners?” she asks again, “Why would I lie about that Sunshine? Go get em, I’ll be nearby.”

Solus approaches the vehicle, the artificial sun’s glare blinding her a bit. “Weapon” a rough looking bodyguard demanded “you count my fists as one?” She joked handing her pistol. The bodyguard didn’t seem amused as he scanned said fists “not funny, but you’re clear” he mumbled, gesturing her to step inside the Royce. Being part of a netrunner clan, she expected the Royce to be filled to the brim with junkfood, neuro stimulants and a dozen holoscreens blaring data but instead the inside stank of a mixture of genuine tobacco, marijuana and some imported whiskey. The inside held a simple grey design and the memory foam seats were softer than expected, nearly dulling her to the point of sleep which she snapped out of instantly remembering this was a business meeting. “Solus Valentine, congratulations on your recent bust” the bulky business suited cyborg extended a gold plated mechanical arm to shake Solus’s hand, the metal was cold but was as soft as skin. “Thanks, since you’re happy about it I guess no one is friends with the gene scavs?”

“No one can be proper friends with folks that steal body parts for some black market slum rum brand. But that’s besides the point. Seeing that you’ve stepped inside my Royce, I’ll assume you’ll take this job?” the vehicle hummed forward, its fusion engine releasing a low whine that stood apart from scratchy growls of the biofuel run cars in their surroundings.

“My partner ran me through enough. All I need now are details before I say yes.” Wade grins through the bulletproof collars of his coat, he leans back on his seat and strokes his hair while chuckling in his deep guttural voice “Confident, brave. I like that in a gun for hire.”

“Guns for hire, I got a partner remember”

“Sure you do, so here’s the req. It’s a big client, will pay good credit, seventy five keys to be exact. It’s a simple snatch and dash, I can’t tell you what it is but the item isn’t anything you can’t carry.” Solus felt the excitement rush down her spin, being considered an option by a fixer like Carlson Wade was already a clear sign that she and Leyland were now considered proper professionals, “Coming from Carlson Wade, big probably means 26D Mob am I right?”

Wade chuckles once more, smiling even wider this time. “Who do you think runs this city Solus Valentine?”

“The Arbiter’s Court?” she jokes, and in that moment the anti-gravity roar of a hoverbike cuts just above them as an Arbiter on patrol skirts through the roads, the rider’s sleek exosuit brims in the glare of the artificial sun while the shoulder mounted weapons emerged from their carapace as it scanned its surroundings. “As if they’d ever admit if they needed help.” He scoffed, “Let’s go lower Miss. Valentine”

“Megacorps then?”

“Who else.” He scoffed, sporting a look that Solus felt signified some lost confidence on her intelligence. “Remember these are Corpos, they think they own this world and in many ways they do, the client herself is paranoid but desperate. So, are you in?

Solus doesn’t hesitate to take the job, all the instincts that told her to hold back, reconsider and to try to predict everything all flew right out the window. “Good. Here’s a comm chip. You’ll be in direct contact with the client.

Call her as soon as you’re ready. Just mention my name and tell her I didn’t mention the exact nature of the job itself. Find me when it’s done” Solus simply nods her head in agreement, the Royce stops at the same area where it picked her up. As she leaves the car, she gives the chip a quick scan using the computer on her forearm. No dead traps or some built in Megacorp murder virus.

“How’d it go?” Leyland asks, his raised voice failing to hide his excitement. Solus smiles and flashes the comm chip, he knows exactly what it meant.

“Shit, Shit, SHIT!” he exclaims, “Hey calm down big boy, we gotta head to the car before I tell you the rest”

…

The car was really Leyland’s but at this point it was the duo’s go to ride. It was a restored and respecced Silver Chevrolet Impala. The design was some three hundred years old, but it never lacked its cosmetic appeal. But one of the reasons why the two preferred the rectangular shape of an old Impala was because you could easily fit it with hidden compartments. Guns, ammo, drone sets and of course a hybrid engine that ran on electricity and biofuel. The biofuel engine charged the electric one which gave the Impala an extra kick that could get it out of more than a few hairy situations.