Code Enforcement: Wetware

The first two rounds hit me in the belly, knocking the breath out of me. I retch as I kick off the polymer table and send my chair sailing back. Hitting the ground hurts, even in low G, but not as much as the spike of red-hot pain in my core. My eyes bulge, and I struggle to take a breath, gurgling wordlessly. It's like there's a steel band around my torso; I can't breathe! Voidspawned hell, I'm gutshot...

Except... I'm not. As my back and shoulders rebound off the ferrocrete floor, another shot rings out and passes inches from my eyes. Slow enough to be visible, and my hand reaches to my stomach. No blood, she's firing... beanbags?

I'd laugh if I could breathe. I manage a wheeze as my feet touch down, scrabbling and sliding as a fourth shot rings out. I turn for the door. She's trying to disable me, keep me down, which means I need to move. The alarm blares in my ears, but it can't drown out the next shot, or my squeal as it hits my tailbone. Anna, you're a vacuum-sucking pain in my ass!

I hear her curse and the click of the gun. She's reloading. I grab the door and swing it open, but the lobby is on lockdown. Red light strobes across the walls, and I can see the outer door locks are engaged. I try pinging the admin system, but it's locked down. Emergency shutdown, crap.

With few other options, I slam the hearing room door shut just as Anna fires again, the sound echoing and impact making the door bounce and shiver in the frame.

I glance around, looking for anything to use. Vacuum-sucking hell, why are there no weapons in this administrative center's lobby? Probably to keep people killing the staff in frustration. One star review; I'm very unsatisfied.

I lean back against the wall beside the door, pulling my arm back. When it whips open and Ms. Delmond steps through, I drive my elbow into her face, slamming it into her teeth. I feel a crunch, and she screeches, the muzzle exploding with another wild shot. I grab the stock as she lifts a hand to her mouth and drive the butt of the weapon into her chest.

She gasps, coughing and sputtering; she spits out two bloody teeth and slides to her knees. I try to tear the gun away, but she's clinging to it, and only manage to fling it back into the hearing room. As Anna moves to rise, I grab her hair, making her shriek as I yank her bodily into the lobby and throw her facedown to the floor, kicking the door shut.

"You stupid, suicidal bitch!" She spits, slurring her words through the missing teeth. "Dyer can't help you, you're as good as- urk!" she trails off as I slam a foot on her back and press down with my full weight. I take a few unsteady, shuddering breaths as she groans and spits bloody saliva on the floor.

But I hear something at the front of the lobby. I take my foot off Anna as the mechanism on the door flashes silver in my overlay, and I hear the thunk of the lock. The outer door slides open, and the private security goon from earlier steps inside, one hand resting on the butt of his weapon. "Why is there a security alert? The hell is going on?"

The guard from outside. I let my hands fall to my chest and feign a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you're here! Quick, it's Ms. Delmond! It's horrible!"

The guard blinks quickly, straightening as he sees her form groaning on the ground. "The hell?" Stepping, forward, he kneels and puts a hand on her shoulder as she gasps and spits out a mouthful of blood. "What happened?"

I reach down in a smooth, confident motion. "I hurt her feelings, and she shot me," I say, as I grip the plasma pistol on his belt, tearing it free and stepping away.

He's fast; his hand lashes out to grab my wrist, and I barely wiggle free before his fingers close around me. He turns as Anna spits again. "Cid, you ass, get that cunt! She knows about the League, she's one of Dyer's whores!"

But it's too late; the safety is off, and I point it at center mass as I take a few steps back. The man stands slowly, taking in the scene. "Easy now. No need for violence. Ms. Cruz, was it?" He seems remarkably calm, considering I have his own weapon turned on him.

The corner of my lip turns up. "Cid, was it? Time to surrender. We'll turn you over to Third Precinct, nice and easy. Play it smart and you can get a good lawyer and cut a deal, yeah? Or you can die here. Your choice; clocks ticking, Cid," I say smoothly, the alarm still blaring.

He goes still, eyes narrowing. He's thinking it over, which means he's not some analogue-brained luddite thug. "Turn me over to Codes? So you don't know anything. You're not one of Dyer's flock," he says, some tension leaving him.

I shrug. "I fly solo, but I know you're no daughter of Ganymede. Gaian League, is it?" I ask, nodding to the seething woman on the ground.

The man grimaces. "Anna's got a big mouth. That was almost as stupid as firing on you. Wouldn't have played it that way if I had a choice."

I chuckle, and then wince. I'm going to have some impressive bruises. "We all play the cards we're dealt, Cid. And right now, I think you've got a bad hand. Time to fold."

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Cid smirks. "You'd find turning me over to Codes less productive than expected," he says. Considering a gun is pointed at his chest, he's at ease. He raises a placating hand. "Look, it doesn't have to go down this way. Let me talk to my boss. He's very accommodating and willing to cooperate, if it's in all parties' mutual interests. And he's not the type to kill without need."

I laugh, even though it makes my belly ache. "Well, that's reassuring. He only kills when he has to? Sounds like the League, alright. And his people are trigger happy enough as it is," I say, nodding my head towards the seething blonde.

He shrugs. "The local talent varies in quality." He eyes me up and down. "Look, you're clearly a former cop. That's useful. Valuable, even. Smart and tough? Think fast on your feet? I respect that."

I snort at that. "Oh, your approval fills me with joy and makes this whole trip worthwhile," I sneer. "Does that mean you won't make me squeeze this trigger?"

Cid shrugs. "Why? You were here for an appeal, right? You want a weapons cert? Some steady PI contracts? There's no need to spill blood. We can work a deal."

I scoff, ignoring the ache in my core. "Yeah? One where your boss owns me? Where he spares me, and gets a personal PI on his leash? Tell him to eat silicon."

Cid shakes his head. "The Jovian is big. There's plenty of legitimate work. My boss understands someone who plays the game, even if they don't play for him. As long as they don't play against him."

Keeping him talking might be good, or terrible; it depends on who shows up. More security, or Codes. Actually, Codes might be bad in other ways, but at least they won't be trying to kill me. Probably. "Meaning what?" I ask, licking my lips.

"Meaning, parties can agree to shake hands and walk away. No hard feelings, no reports, nobody gets hurt, no waves made, no digitalwork," he says. Cid takes a step forward, square jaw set, smiling smugly. He's confident; I tighten my grip on the pistol. "I'll make sure your appeal is rubberstamped; you leave Ganymede and don't come back. And nobody breathes a word, of course."

I consider that for a moment. It's a better offer than I expected. They must not want trouble right now. Wonder why. But walk away? Is it this K.C.? Jax seemed afraid of him. Because the information he had was so damaging, or because he's dangerous? Or both? "I don't know your boss, or if he's good for his word. Is he this K.C. I've heard about?" I ask.

Cid's expression goes blank, which is answer enough. "I need to know if you're willing to cut a deal, Ms. Cruz."

"Yeah, give me a nano, asshole," I say, biting my bottom lip. My mind races. If this K.C. is the one in charge, he's the same one blackmailing Jax to get control of trade on Callisto. Which means he's making plays on multiple moons and consolidating economic control. Gaian League? Must be expanding out to the Dark district. Been chased out of everywhere else. Oof, it might be worth taking the deal, just to avoid a tussel with the Gaians.

After all, if they find out that Sparrow was recruited by one of their dead agents as a runner, and that she tried to threaten Rusteater about the squids... wait...

The League is consolidating power across stations and moons in the Jovian.

Gaians are moving, using weapons to achieve their agenda. Violence. Killing.

Sparrow ran refugees and agents for them. And an explosion almost killed her mother. In the quarters they share on Io, where she'd been staying for weeks.

It clicks. "Your boss tried to kill Sparrow."

"What?" His brow furrows, and his confusion looks genuine.

And I don't care. I set my jaw and raise the gun to eye level. "On Io. This K.C. sabotaged the recycler on Argus station. He tried to blow her to hell to tie up the League's loose end."

Cid's eyes go flat, and he lunges for me.

I don't hesitate; I pull the trigger. The weapon emits a low tone, and nothing else.

Cid barrels into me as I curse, and I bring a knee up to hit him in the crotch as his hands close on the pistol. He grunts and hisses between clenched teeth, but he doesn't let go. Crap, he's strong; I fumble at the pistol, making it click as he wrenches the weapon out of my hand.

He spins. "The pistol is safe-slaved to my prints; you should have taken the deal." But then he frowns, looking at the empty port for his power pack.

I'm halfway to the outer door with his ammo when I hear him cursing and fumbling at his belt, looking for a reload. The polymer door slides open just as I hear the chirp of a fresh pack in his pistol.

He gets three shots off. One misses my head, flitting past me and singing my hair before it impacts in a patch of clover. The second strikes the door beside my hand, sending molten droplets of polymer flying and warping the material remaining. As the door begins sliding shut, the third strikes a glancing blow off my right shoulder.

I shriek as the world goes white. White with a burning, blazing agony. I can only howl and throw myself forward as the superheated gas obliterates the fabric on my back shoulder, melting the fibers of my jacket and making my shirt smolder. I hit the field of clover, rolling and screaming. I tug and flail, ripping the remains of my jacket off and throwing it behind me, wailing as I roll to my knees.

I hear banging on the wall and look back. The plasma round that struck the door warped it, and it won't slide open. I can see it shiver where Cid is kicking it. If he can't open the front, he'll leave through the rear. I've only bought some time.

So, I run. Hissing through clenched teeth, tears streaming down my cheeks, I break for the tunnel. I ping out the saved messages I stored, legs working to send me bounding along in low gravity, tears pouring down my face. My right arm hangs limp, and I hold it with my left. Holy void-spawned fuck, this hurts... but not as much as it should. That's not good. He killed nerves. It's bad. I can't see it from the back, but I can barely move my arm.

I throw myself into the corridor, feet pounding along the ferrocrete. The alarm isn't blaring here, it must be local. My arm is shaking. I need medical. No, wait, they'll be expecting me to go to medical.

I take a few random turns, linking into the cheapest network I can find, silver knots flitting past in my overlay. This is Ganymede. You can buy anything on Ganymede. Even secrecy, right? And I've got some credits, there's gotta be some genesplicer or back-alley hack who will sell me some dermal patches, maybe some nerve growth nanos... and keep it discrete.

A local alert pops up in silver in my overlay, blinking urgently. It's from... Admin? Oh...

It's a security alert. For attempted murder, for one Melody Cygnus Cruz.

I think the price of secrecy just went up.