Code Enforcement: Wetware

Sprinting away from the smoking brothel through the uneven and haphazard alleyways, I'm rather surprised at the lack of general alarm. The gunfire hasn't caused the pandemonium and chaos I expected, at least not outside of the immediate area. A few people have taken cover in doorways or behind sturdy barriers immediately outside, but there are no screams or frantic evacuation or sirens. Then, perhaps pyrotechnics and explosives aren't as rare as I might imagine, even in a closed system. Or maybe the flashing adverts in both D-space and meatspace tend to drown out such distractions. Or maybe it's just not their problem.

In any event, with my dampener on, I can't follow a map or set a course in my overlay. But backtracking the washbot's more winding course through the tangled warren of the entertainment district is doable for me, even without seeing in the UV spectrum. After all, I laid the trail. It's a shame I can't use my implants with Aquarius running rampant. I had hoped he might speak with me, or at least that I could leave a message for his eyes only. Er, his cameras only? Whatever.

After the equivalent of a few blocks, I'm winded and flushed, and I slow to a saunter. I duck behind a large round food pavilion surrounded by unlit lanterns. I slide into an alley behind i, which clearly doubles as a bathroom. The sign labels the restaurant as 'Diogenes Sapien-Free Sun-Jerked Synthetic Chicken; What came first, synthetic chicken or the synthetic egg?' Perfect, no notes. I try to stay out of the light and the view of the crowd as I catch my breath.

Hands on my knees, I sink down, breathing hard. I push my sweaty hair out of my face, smearing some of the dust and ash on my forehead. My ears are still ringing from that explosion, and my elbow throbs in steady rhythm with my shoulder. To top it all off, half of my plan is in ruins, and the other half is in someone else's hands entirely. And I need a bath, desperately. Crap. Should I try to adapt, or just bail? If Casey clears the board of any allies, I'm in trouble.

Worse, I hear a whir approaching from behind. Damn it, I don't even have my stun stick anymore! I turn and pull my hands up, keeping low and ready to lunge for the weapon of whoever is following me.

But to my surprise, it's the washbot. Two scorched, blackened holes are burnt through the chassis, and it looks like one of the wheels isn't powered. The clamp arm hangs limp, and the head of the vacuum arm is cracked. But the chassis trundles forward without much issue, merely leaking a trail of fluid with faint chemical overtones.

It trundles to a halt a few feet from me. I swallow, seeing the chassis tilt up, camera whirring as I lower my fists. "Aquarius," I say softly.

"Meatsack," the bot responds blandly. But the voice isn't masculine or weighted with malice. It's...

"Wait, Cassandra?" I blink, looking behind the bot. But nobody else is coming, and I feel a little off balance. "What are you doing here?"

There's a moment as the lens focuses, scoping in to view my face. "You made a plea for Aquarius to hear you out," she answers simply.

I gulp, looking around. Nobody walking past us seems to be paying the bot any notice. "I... is he with you?"

"If Aquarius was here in full, you'd be under attack," the bot says, and I tilt my head. Fair.

Licking my lips, I feel a brief spark of hope. "So, you're acting as an intermediary then?"

Even without an expression, I can feel the scorn from the synth. "No, I'm here because your words seemed genuine, and I wanted to sate my curiosity."

My heart hammers in my chest. "About me?"

"About what Aquarius could possibly want to hear from you, aside from your screams," she says bluntly. The bot trundles near, a foot away. It doesn't have the stun stick any longer, at least. "You intended to leave him a message, in ultraviolet pigment, because none of Caspian's crew has ocular implants."

I nod slowly. "I sort of did leave a message in a way, in that I laid a trail you followed," I point out.

"Don't try to be smart; you don't have the wetware for it, I assure you. I assume you didn't expect the ambush?"

I shrug, trying to play more relaxed than I feel. Then I remember that Cassie is a lie-detecting bot, and I just sigh and drop the act. "I adapted. Casey moved more quickly than I expected."

The bot snorts, which is sort of unsettling without a nose or mouth. "You're a moron, meatsack. I watched it unfold. Cara Morgan had turned on Dyer the moment it was in her interest to do so. Of course Casey was on guard for a backstab from her. He had the decapitation plan and electronics sabotage ready weeks ago. You just moved up the timetable for executing it," she says with clear disdain.

I chew my cheek for a moment, thinking. "Well, if Casey is turning on his own, that bodes poorly for Aquarius long-term, so-"

"No. Aquarius is too useful to the League: he's the last sapient synth they have. Besides, Casey knows I'd read it off him if he intended to turn on us," she says flatly, and I'm forced to bow my head in acknowledgment.

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"Fine. So why even follow me here?" I ask, feeling a chill in the air.

"To hear what you have to say, and to see if it's true."

I try to parse that a few times. "And if it is… then you'll convince Aquarius-"

"I promise nothing, fleshbag. This is a fact-finding mission. If nothing else, it will be useful to know if you believe your own sales pitch. So, say your piece. Let's find out," she says quickly, and with some heat.

I open my mouth, then close it. There's a couple of things I could say, but there's no point trying to play it any way but straight. Not unless I want Cassie to pick my reasoning or honesty apart. "First, I want to tell you I'm sorry," I murmur, and I'm shocked to mean it. "I think I understand Rusteater, a little. I know what they fought for..." I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry they suffered so much throughout their life. They were cast aside and trying to find a purpose. They wanted to help, to save lives. Like Aquarius saved them."

The synth doesn't reply, so I barrel forward, gaining steam. "They thought that the League was the place to do that. But Caspian doesn't care. He wants to monetize the Europan biosphere and use it to secure his control. He's going to sell the squid and its genome to the highest bidder. Eventually, someone's going to send mechs or synths or people down there to get more, to pilfer Europa's oceans. The biosphere will be contaminated and exploited, and everything Rusteater fought for will be lost," I say, and feel a twist in my gut.

I slide to a knee, eye level with the chassis. "But it doesn't have to be. The mining installation is gone, the surface conditions are radically inhospitable to life, and nobody is eager to make another attempt. Unless they know something is down there, nobody will look. The life can stay hidden, for a long time. Maybe forever: they could outlast humanity. Cartwright won't talk. Nor will anyone he trusts with the info. I won't tell anyone, and neither will Sparrow. But Caspian won't let it go, will he?"

Theres a gentle whirring, but no other response. I growl in my throat. "You know. Caspian isn't a believer in the cause; he's a mercenary. With the League's leadership decapitated, he's filling the power-vacuum. But it's smoke and mirrors; all he really has is a handful of Gaian refugees and some local black-hat support. There's no finance, no reinforcements coming. If Rusteater had returned to the League with that squid in hand, Caspian would have sold it to a biotech company in a heartbeat. And if Rusteater tried to object or stop him, Caspian would have killed them."

"You killed them," Cassie responds, finally speaking.

I nod. "Yes. In self-defense. But I'm protecting their dream. Their purpose. What is Caspian protecting?"

"Nothing but himself, I'm under no illusions there. But it's not just about Casey; Aquarius hates you," she says softly.

I wait a moment. "And you?"

"Rusteater was something like a nibling to me, but I'm the pragmatic part of the network. We all make our choices and live with the consequences. I know Caspian isn't a believer, nor are many of the others at the top. It's why I didn't want to join the League, and neither did Aquarius."

"I get it. You did it to protect Rusteater. To watch their back," I say, looking down, face flushing.

"And to make sure the League didn't turn on them or sell them out. The Gaian's are mostly human, and I didn't trust them," she adds.

For good reason, it seems. "Will you at least bow out? Let me face Caspian without interfering; whatever leverage Casey still has on you and Aquarius, it won't matter if he's dead."

But the bot shakes its chassis back and forth. "You don't understand. Caspian has something on his ship. I cannot allow you to destroy the vessel or kill him. And no, I don't intend to elaborate; don't insult me by asking," she says as I part my lips.

I close them again. The hell? What could he possibly have? The only thing the League had that Aquarius cared about was... Rusteater.

My breath catches in my throat. It strikes me in that moment how Rusteater might have imagined the situation. If I were a synth ecoterrorist going undercover on a dangerous mission infiltrating a law enforcement organization to sabotage an industrial facility and perform a heist of a living alien from a freezing, radioactive moon...

I might be worried about making it back. I might take precautions and arrange some insurance in case I didn't. Not an insurance policy. I might hedge my bets by, say, backing up my consciousness. After all, Rusteater did it once on Ursa Miner station. It's not hard to imagine there might be another backup left elsewhere. If Rusteater left a backup behind with his Gaian comrades just in case the grid crashed...

Casey has Rusteater's backup on his ship. That's the leash around Aquarius's proverbial throat. That's why he can't turn on Caspian.

I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck.

If I secure Rusteater's backup, then Aquarius is free. But I killed Rusteater, and he's a true believer in the League's goals. Well, in their professed goals. Would I just be handing them another ally?

Holy void-spawned fuck. What a mess.

But Cassandra speaks first. "Well, going by your blood pressure and pupil dilation, you put it together. That's a shame." The chassis begins to back up.

I hold up a hand. "Wait. We don't have to be enemies," I plead.

"You know about their last backup. You killed them twice already. You're a threat," she states with a heavy tone.

My throat feels dry and I swallow hard. "I'll help them," I croak, shocking myself. "I'll take down Casey and get them out, free. Without turning them over to Codes."

The synth pauses. "You actually mean that."

I lick my lips and nod. "I'm not a cop. I'm a PI. An Indy. And this doesn't have to be a zero-sum game."

There's a long moment of silence. "I'll leave the chassis with you. But you have to deliver your side first of the bargain first; until Rusteater is safe, nothing happens. And I'll do my best to convince Aquarius, but I'm only part of the whole. As I said, no promises."

The tension in the air is thick, but I don't dare turn down even this tepid offer. "That'll have to do, then," I say, offering a smile.

The chassis slumps, powering down. It looks like Cassandra left. At least she seemed to be open to a deal. One with even more moving parts than before. I sigh, looking down at the empty chassis. Well, it's damaged, but at least I got washbot back. I guess I get to keep my kidneys after all.

I turn off my dampener to link with the chassis again. And of course that's the moment when the arrest warrant with my name on it pops up in crimson in my overlay. Oh joy. Clearfield finally read my answers and realized how much I know, and how short lived her arrangement with the League is going to be. Well, at least this way the cops and the criminals are coming after me separately, instead of together. That's better, right?

And I still didn't even get to try the rum!