James reaches into his backpack and pulls out a flask. After taking a long pull, he offers it to Matilda.
“To be honest, he wasn’t a bad guy in the beginning, but I think his breaking point was when Fall Water started picking up military contracts. Simmons saw it as his big break. But it only dragged him through the muck of lobbyists, government agencies, kickbacks, all kinds of shady stuff. No one ever talked about it, but everyone saw the changes. Before we could blink, half the company’s activities were off the books, developing tech for one black-ops org after another.”
Matilda drinks from the flask.
“Like, secret weapons? James Bond stuff?”
James reaches for the flask.
“No, nothing so exotic. More like data tracking and surveillance protocols. He picked up a lot of bad habits during that period.” James takes a swig from the flask and looks out the window.
“And it reflects on his city.”
The rail liner dips slightly, beginning its descent to the lower sprawl. From their vantage point, Matilda watches the tides of people surging through the streets, all of them generating traffic and credits for Simmons’ empire. Matilda gazes rapt as the towering pyramid looms closer.
“It’s not going to be easy getting in there. It’s not like we can just barge in.”
James nods. “You’re right. The whole city is divided into districts based on financial status. The closer you want to be to the Pyramid, the more successful you have to be. It’s called ‘The Ladder.’”
Matilda snickers. “Wow, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’, huh? Are all your old Fall Water pals so creative? If the sectors are based on financial status, we’re going to need an express plan, here. We don’t exactly have time for the long con on this one.”
James takes another pull from the flask. “I can hack the first few steps without drawing too much attention, but we’ll have to find a way to advance without—”
James stops himself and stares at Matilda
“Did you say, ‘long con?’”
Matilda grins, and James continues.
“If you want to avoid the light, you need to walk in the shadows.”
It takes Matilda a few seconds. She quickly turns to James.
“You want to travel through the Dark? Are you crazy?”
James shrugs, with a slight smile.
“Our luck has held up this long. Who’s to say it won’t last a little longer?”
Matilda grabs the flask out of his hand and drains what’s left of it, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
“You’re talking about going… into the Deep. It’s an unindexed maze that nobody goes to anymore.”
James shakes out the empty flask before placing it back in the bag.
“Well, I’m counting on nobody going there. With what happened to Victoria and Hank, we have to assume Tom Simmons suspects something. Security will be too tight on the surface. We’ll never able to sneak in. The Deep is the only way, but you’re right that it’s a labyrinth. That’s why we need to find someone who knows their way around.”
Matilda bites the inside of her cheek.
“Let me guess. You know someone.”
James nods slightly. Matilda watches his flexing hand.
“James, would this person say that you’re a friend?”
James shrugs.
“Uh… ‘friend’, no. ‘Acquaintance’, maybe. Under normal circumstances, I would avoid Tor and his ‘Onikuma’ all together. They’re not exactly the kind of people you want to owe a favor to.”
It is Matilda’s turn to frown. “If they’re not your friends, we don’t really have much to offer them.”
James gestures to the city outside the maglev’s windows.
“They see themselves as anarchists. Any chance to disrupt the Enclave is a win, in their books. I think they’ll help us once they know we’re going for the big man. They’re a bunch of glorified smugglers, pushers and killers – but they can help us get where we need to.”
Matilda looks back at the Pyramid.
“I’m going on record, here. This is your stupidest plan yet.”
The train slows as they enter the station.
“Trust me. What could go wrong?”
Matilda stares at the looming, floating Pyramid. She can’t help but think of Simmons’ key and what secrets it holds. It’s the final step to completing their deal with Donovan.
“I hope you’re right.”
James moves with the line of people exiting the railport. The security gate ahead chimes with each new entry, tagging each traveler in accordance with their respective financial status. Deltas, Thetas, and Epsilons move together to form the commuting mass. James notices a few Gammas and Betas present in the crowd. Unusual, but not unheard of. Flashes of peripheral movement overhead make the Taciturn look up. The private hovercars of Alphas fill the sky. Executive helos and hovercars are among the privileged accoutrements when one reaches the upper echelons of the Ladder. For the third time since disembarking, James eyes his interface. Their current, modest camouflage settings will afford them no such luxuries.
Always preferring to err on the side of caution, James has given them both the appearance of lowly Kappas. In a crowd of their social betters such as this, it does give them something of a useful, bonus berth. Kappas and Iotas live in the unfashionable outskirts of the Enclave’s dominion. Some would call them rednecks at best, while still others see them as little better than indexed barbarians, societal fodder occasionally useful to the Enclave. Despite the personal space granted to them, their status means they’ll need to change trains to an underground system.
On board the underground transport, Matilda wrinkles her nose.
“The look is one thing, but did you have to give our camouflage such a bad smell? I get why people are walking away.”
James smiles, revealing a set of rotten-looking teeth that match the state of his battered clothes. He resembles more a disheveled bum than a hardscrabble mercenary. Matilda’s disguise is not much better than his, but it does have a quantum of style. With her tatty animal furs and worn suit, the Scry looks like a Viking/Calamity Jane hybrid.
As they exit the subway, James is hit by a miasmic wall of wet trash, cheap booze and some underlying stink he cannot begin to identify. Motioning for Matilda to follow, James makes his way to the long-defunct escalators that lead to the street level. The denizens that inhabit the station reek of cheap alcohol and are clearly high on a variety of other more deleterious substances as well. James identifies Delusion, Switch Off, and Joy Worm – all psychoactive-analog viruses that corrupt the user’s main code, but give them a brief escape from Metropolis’ hard underbelly.
The smell changes when they reach the top, but James wouldn’t qualify it as better. Working girls market their services on the streets while their pimps stand close by. Street vendors sell an assortment of merchandise to passersby – everything from smuggled goods to illegal software to hacked entertainment access keys. Weapons are prohibited to those in the city, but James knows this is the place to look for one.
James steps around a puddle of brownish liquid on the sidewalk, drawing Matilda to one side.
“Stay close. The Zone shouldn’t be too far from here. Tor’s too careful to hang around the place, but I’m assuming someone from the Onikuma will be there. I’ve heard it’s a recruiting zone for their group.”
Matilda makes a face as they step around another nasty-looking puddle.
“So, about that. I get that they don’t like the Enclave, but I’m still not entirely sure what these Onikuma guys actually do.”
James pushes past a vendor offering a free sample of Switch Off.
“They coordinate attacks on Enclave forces. Look for loopholes in the Pyramid’s system directories. At least, that what they want their image to be. What they mostly spend their time doing is smuggling goods into the city. They’d say it’s to support their other operations, but when you devote the lion’s share of your focus to something like this, I start to question intentions.”