Chapter 17

Cash, gold, some boxes—Lucy quickly dumped the contents of the safe into a black, untearable bag that, when folded, was no bigger than a business card. Time to bail.I switched to the camera covering the kitchen entrance. A tall Latino in his forties stepped into view. His skin was dark as sin, and on his bare chest, a golden bull's head spewing flames was tattooed. Well, here comes the homeowner. In his right hand, he held a heavy, long-barreled revolver, and in the left, a short machete with a wide, hefty blade."Time to shoot some rats," Jorge announced as he entered the hallway, followed closely by the rest of the gang.Seven of them. Packed tight in the kitchen.Okay, time to make some trouble. I needed to buy Lucy as much time as possible. A quick glance at Jorge's ice. Damn, it was strong. If the gang leader's house lacked heavy tech defenses, he had definitely invested in personal ice. Not military grade, but cracking it would be tough.I immediately hit the gang with two hacks and shut off the lights in the hallway, switching the cameras to night vision."Ricky, get the flashlights!" one of the gangsters shouted, already aiming at the staircase to the second floor. "We've got a fucking runner here."Wrong guess. There's two runners here.Some of them started coughing and choking from the hack, but it barely affected the three most heavily armored ones. The hallway flashed as a few handheld flashlights flickered on.While they fumbled around, I quickly scanned the group. One of them had a Sandevistan. Jorge didn't have one—just a Kerenzikov, reflex boosters, decent subdermal armor, synthetic muscles, reinforced bones. A real tank build. Two others were tougher, the rest were weaker. I targeted the young guy with the shotgun and the weakest ice. Puppet protocol activated.In an instant, I was seeing the world through someone else's eyes, first-person view. I looked around. In front of me, the backs of the other gangsters. Which one of them had the Sandevistan? I raised the shotgun in his hands, aimed at the back of a head, and pulled the trigger.The shotgun's double-barrel blast echoed through the narrow hallway. The target's skull was heavily reinforced, but the point-blank shot at least stunned him. Bits of skin, tufts of hair, and sprays of blood splattered the walls. My puppet's body was quickly tackled by two of his friends. I threw a short-circuit hack at one of them and slipped out of the body."Fucking runners, man!" one of the gangsters cursed."Jorge, call for backup!""On it. Hold the stairs! He's somewhere up there."Jorge rushed back into the kitchen. He wasn't trying to call in reinforcements through regular channels. Must be some superstitious fear of hacking. A house with minimal devices but with strong ice. A second later, Jorge reappeared in the hallway, holding an old-fashioned corded phone to his ear. Some kind of old-school tap line? Explains why I couldn't pick it up on the network."Fifteen minutes!" Jorge shouted.I threw another wave of scripts at the gang, nearly maxing out my deck's memory, and switched back to Lucy. She was still upstairs."Can you find another way out?""All exits are locked tight. The windows have double-paned bulletproof glass under the bars. I've dropped the last of the cameras here."Got it. Lucy had managed to plant four more cameras around the upper floor while looking for an exit. I almost had complete surveillance now.The second floor of Jorge Luis's house was designed as a trap. One exit, a safe as bait, and an alarm system inside."In fifteen minutes, their backup will arrive. Seven guys downstairs. Maybe minus one or two."Lucy herself was hiding at the end of the longest room on the second floor, filled with crates and racks packed with designer clothes. The space, about seven by five meters, was like a maze of junk."Got it. I'll jump in the view of the camera downstairs."Yeah. Good idea. If the thugs just held the stairs until reinforcements arrived, Lucy's chances of escaping were next to zero. She needed to hit them hard with scripts in the next ten minutes, forcing them to attack.I switched back to the downstairs cameras. One of the gang members suddenly convulsed, sparking and drooling. A second later, he collapsed at the feet of his comrades."How the fuck is he doing that?" one of Jorge's men exclaimed."Damn runners and their fucking Net!" the leader shouted, kicking the wall."Jorge, do you have cameras in here?" asked a younger thug. "The runner might be hacking us through them.""No, there aren't... well, actually—" The thug started scanning the hallway. "Shit!"His revolver barked out. He was clearly shooting at spy cams. I had to act quickly, or he'd take out our vision. Where's my last puppet? The guy had been disarmed but not sent away, just loitering near the kitchen. Perfect.A shot, then another. My view nearly vanished, but I managed to jump from the camera to my puppet just in time. No more fighting with this guy—just observing now.What's the situation? Lucy had knocked out one thug, I was controlling another, and the wounded guy with the Sandevistan was back on his feet but not in fighting shape. He needed finishing off. The other four thugs were relatively okay, passing a Maxdoc inhaler between them to counter the effects of the hack. Alright. Target the injured one—overheat, short circuit, short circuit, synapse burnout. Should do the trick.The injured thug was leaning against the wall, clutching an assault rifle. His black vest was splattered with blood. He was intact from the front, but the back of his head was missing its scalp—a weird sight. He jerked at the first shock of the short circuit, accidentally firing at the floor, then started convulsing, teeth chattering. A few seconds of shaking, and then a tougher script kicked in. Blood trickled from his eyes and nose. He screamed something unintelligible as his brain's neural pathways turned to chaos from the infected script, but the scream soon died away. The man collapsed, lifeless."Mother of God..." someone whispered, trying hard not to panic."Where the fuck is he hitting us from? Ricky, are there any more cameras?""I can't see shit! There's nothing here!""Fuck, he's gonna take us all down! Upstairs, now!" Jorge shouted, turning to my puppet. "Enrique, get outside. Meet our guys."But Enrique didn't go. As soon as the four thugs rushed up the stairs, I used my puppet's hands to grab the dead gangster's assault rifle and followed them, sending Lucy a message:"Four incoming."Now I was on the second floor, in someone else's body. Music played, and lights flickered in some of the rooms. That was probably Lucy, trying to distract them. I aimed the assault rifle at the backs of the "buddies." Approaching to shoot them point-blank was too risky—the thugs kept glancing around.Gunfire erupted. Now I understood why they gave this guy a double-barrel. The automatic rifle bucked wildly in his weak hands. The shots hit two of them, including Jorge, but didn't do much damage. The thugs turned around, firing three guns at once. They weren't trying to take the guy alive anymore.Dying in someone else's body is a strange experience, a bit like losing a character in a game. It's like you're falling, like you're dead, but there's no pain—just a little frustration that you didn't deal more damage to the "enemy team."I jumped from Enrique's body to a nearby camera just before Jorge shot me out, forcing me to switch to another one."Motherfucker's around here somewhere!""Smoke him out!"Something moved in one of the rooms, and the thugs immediately opened fire, even tossing a low-powered grenade. But their "victim" turned out to be a talking plush toy. Lucy had set a trap. While they were shooting at it, the thug closest to the big room met his end.A shadow flashed behind him. A monowire wrapped around the thug's neck. The deadly, thin wire gleamed in the flickering light as it was stained with blood. Lucy didn't try to decapitate him—she just slit his throat and vanished back into the maze of junk.The thugs turned, seeing their comrade bleeding out."She's over there!" Jorge shouted, pointing to the big room. "No grenades! The merchandise isn't mine."Still, the large room offered plenty of cover from shrapnel. By now, I'd managed to restore a good chunk of my cyberdeck's memory, and there were plenty of cameras around.Overheat, short circuit, short circuit, synapse burnout.The thug began to shake and seize violently, the effects quickly turning fatal.Two left. Both were already on edge, considering the number of dead in their squad and the fact they hadn't even seen their enemy's face. The thugs rushed into the maze, where Lucy hit the last of Jorge's men with short circuit and a vision glitch through a camera, then slit his throat with the monowire. That left only the gang leader standing.He spun around wildly, waving his revolver back and forth."Come out, you fucker! Let's talk like men!"It was clear Lucy wasn't going to play into his macho challenge. She hit him with a vision glitch and a disruption to his implants, then dashed between the racks of clothes toward the stairs. It seemed like she had a chance to escape. But we underestimated the enemy's paranoia about hacking.The implant disruption wasn't very effective. It shut down his Kerenzikov, but his armor, muscles, and bones were integrated so deeply they couldn't be disabled with a script. The vision glitch worked though, making Jorge jerk his head.At the same time, Lucy slipped toward the stairs with a black bag of loot and...Bang!A bullet tore through the wall just millimeters from her head, barely missing Lucy but nicking her hair. I saw the tip of the strand, sliced off by the shot, flutter to the floor.She immediately ducked back, firing as she moved. Three bullets from her Unity pistol almost bounced off Jorge's massive frame—he was too heavily armored.I zoomed in with the camera. The Latino was shooting with his right eye closed. The optical malfunction worked, but… in his left eye, he didn't have an implant at all! Just a regular—or maybe modified—biological eye. That's a first for me. No idea what kind of ripper worked on him, or how they solved the syncing between chrome and flesh, but it was giving us problems."I'm gonna bury you!" Jorge shouted, emptying the rest of the revolver's cylinder as he chased the girl.Lucy was darting through the maze of stuff, while high-caliber bullets shredded the contraband goods around her. Jorge was furious. First, he threw his machete, embedding it in the wall. Then he even tossed a grenade, forgetting all about protecting the property. Lucy had to leap into the only safe spot—a corner of the hall, where a metal container shielded her from the barrage of shrapnel.Meanwhile, Jorge reloaded his revolver. It was a critical situation, but there was still a way out."Touch her and you'll die," I warned Jorge, but the brute was too far gone."Fuck you!" he snapped, ready to finish off the runner trapped in the corner.Fine. I gave him a chance. This is going to suck for both of us, but you're going to suffer more, dipshit.Soul Rip, System Collapse, Soul Rip, System Collapse.Jorge froze for a moment, then screamed at the top of his lungs. The devastating combo of four nightmare attacks unleashed a perfect storm on his nervous system, tearing through all defenses. The double Soul Rip shattered even strong ICE protections. Each subsequent attack was more vicious than the last. Jorge dropped his weapon and clawed at his face as blood sprayed from his eyes and ears. Then… his powerful synthetic and organic muscles, wracked with pain, tore through the skin where they met his implants. His arms twisted unnaturally, shoulders dislocated, and his head twisted almost 180 degrees, tilting to the side. The optical implant shattered in two, while his natural eye popped out of its socket, hanging by a bloody strand. A gruesome, brutal death."He's done. Get out of here, quick."I was feeling pretty sick myself, but there was no time to relax. I switched over to the cameras covering the gas station and nearby convenience store. There they were—Jorge's reinforcements. A van and a sedan, both marked with the Valentinos' insignia.I threw a short-circuit on both drivers. One of them seized up immediately, while the other's internal ICE kicked in. Fine. Soul Ripping, Optical Jam. I'm going to regret this soon, but I need to play it safe. The vehicles swerved on the road. The van crashed into a nearby house fence, while the sedan spun out of control, drifting across the street.Then I switched to my own van, activated the autopilot, and sent Lucy a rendezvous point a few blocks away. Luckily, it wasn't too far.That's it, time to rest. Well, sort of. I had to endure the backlash. Two puppets and three Soul Rippings, all in quick succession—heavy load. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the seat, trying to relax.The first few minutes were brutal. It felt like I might slip between the real world and the Net again. But I managed to hold on. The Faraday skin was still fresh enough. It held up.About ten minutes later, Lucy slid into the car next to me. Her eyes practically glowed with that particular rush of dangerous triumph. She'd danced with death and came out on top."Vi, you…" she started excitedly, then froze when she saw my condition.My hands wouldn't cooperate at all, just trembling uncontrollably. A flickering blue haze clouded my vision."Inside the jacket… right pocket…" I gasped, feeling my heart race and a cold sweat forming.She pushed back the jacket flap, pulling out a small plastic case she already recognized. I had prepped the cocktail in advance."A syringe?" she asked, worried as she kept searching through my jacket."Use that… there's an injector…"She fumbled with the case, detached the bottom part, and three needles glinted under the dim light. Perfect. Relief was on its way. Lucy jabbed it into my thigh right through my pants, and a wave of warmth spread through my body."Oh, yeah…" I exhaled. "Much better…""What the hell is going on with you, Vi? This doesn't look like just a normal burnout," she muttered warily, checking my pulse and running a diagnostic.A burnout is when a netrunner overrides safety limits to push their deck beyond its capacity. It's a trade-off, risking health for extra memory space."You're right. It's not a burnout. More like… a rollback," I said, finding it easier to speak.Lucy ran a quick diagnostic. I figured she understood some of the consequences of netrunner burnout and how to deal with it. She looked at me with a stern but sorrowful expression."Vi… What did they do to you?"And so I began doing what I'd gotten good at in both lives—lying like a bastard."It's not just you Arasaka experimented on, sweetheart," I smirked. "You haven't noticed anything strange about my netrunning?""It's like there's a digital fortress inside your head," she nodded. "And some of your attacks… it's like how rogue AIs break through ICE.""Bingo!" I chuckled. "They called the project 'Yokai' or some other shit from Japanese folklore. I don't remember too well. There are some big gaps in my memory. The idea was to splice an AI into a human, recording it directly into the implants and giving it full access to the brain.""Sick bastards," Lucy shook her head, anger in her voice."I volunteered. I even felt lucky at the time. Still naive back then. Didn't realize just how thin the ice was under the low-level corpos' feet. I remember being hooked up to the equipment, a white flash, and… days of half-consciousness. Then months of migraines. Memory lapses. I guess I got off easy. A few people apparently didn't make it through the procedure. They declared the experiment a failure. The integration didn't take with anyone. I got a payout and signed some non-disclosure agreements. By the way, I'm breaking them right now," I said, stretching in my seat with a wry smile. "But a few months ago, something started changing. I began to feel the Cyberspace differently. I can do things normal runners can't, but everything comes with a price. Rollback, damn it. Nervous system overload. What did the docs call it? Atypical neural shock.""Seen a ripper?""A ripper? And what am I supposed to say? 'Hi, doc, I think my brain fused with an AI due to a secret corpo experiment.' Any ordinary ripper would freak out, and if I went to an Arasaka doc…""Fuck them.""Exactly. I don't want to be a lab rat again. In any case, they won't be a rescue attempt. They'll try to extract as much data as possible to create more runners like me."Lucy shook her head, looking as grim as ever. I wanted to lighten the mood somehow."Here we are—I'm a straight-A student from a middle-class background, and you're a girl raised in a secret bunker, yet we've got more in common than it seems. Arasaka steamrolled over both of us.""Leave them, V.""I will. Real soon.""Why not right now? Don't go back to work."A tempting offer, but it wasn't time to burn bridges just yet."Corporate chrome," I replied."We can swap it out," Lucy countered.I saw that same look in her eyes as that morning by the dam. She feared I'd vanish—disappear right in front of her. No surprise there. She'd lost so many people recently."Give me some time.""V..." Lucy lightly grasped my wrist, staring into my soul. "Try not to use that stuff anymore. You're a good runner even without it.""Good? More like decent. But with it, I'm a serious threat. You saw what happened to that guy.""Yeah. And I see what it's doing to you now. You could barely breathe until the meds kicked in. What if they don't work next time?"Then I'll just find another target to drain. Lucy thinks I'm just a guy in danger of being consumed by an AI. But the truth is much darker..."Sweetheart, you went into a gang hideout without proper prep, almost got shot, and you're all proud of yourself, yet you're telling me to play it safe? Seems like corporate suits aren't the only ones with double standards." I responded with a smirk.Lucy scoffed, turning away."Alright, let's talk about the good stuff..." I said, trying to ease the tension. "What's up with the money and the gems? Did we hit the jackpot?""We've got the gems. I can give you half now, or would you rather we sell the jewelry first?""You sell it. I want clean cash, nice and tidy.""Living the dream, huh?""No complaints," I grinned. "Alright. Let me rest a bit, and then I'll head home to sleep. It was a pleasure working with you.""And that's it?" she asked, a bit disappointed. "You've got work tomorrow?""Nope. Still free tomorrow.""Then come over to my place?"Honestly, why not?"Sure," I agreed.