NOVEL NEXT Book 3 - Chapter 153
It took Trace a minute to recover after that particular revelation. "I'm sorry, what? I knew corporations were cutthroat and sucked, but this is taking things to a whole new level."
The injured man winced as he weakly laughed. "It's not generally this bad." He pressed his hand against his side hard as he growled in pain. "All of this is happening because of a stockholder who owns a large portion of the corporation. The same stockholder who asked me to come here."
"And who was that? I don't think I know any people that important," Trace said before he could fully think it through. Moments after the words left his mouth, the faces of two androids floated through his mind's eye. "Wait, I do actually know two people, I guess."
Hobin-Jin grunted as he pulled a data prism from a zippered pocket on his thigh. He chuckled as he rolled the prism in his hand. "I'm a section leader. You know? I worked my way up the ladder, and here I am running an errand and being shot at. It's like I'm a new hire all over again." He tossed the data prism to Trace, who deftly caught it.
"What are you going to do now?"
"Leave. My part in all of this is over. I should be safe now. Their target was the data prism, or more accurately, it was to prevent me from speaking with you. I don't believe they knew I had that. Now that we have conversed, their target should have switched from me to you."
"It sounds like they should have been going after me from the beginning," Trace muttered, watching the screen.
"You're complaining that they weren't?" He sighed. "I agree, but my guess is that someone was using the opportunity to get ahead by playing politics. Eliminating the people with me got rid of people who were in a rival faction, as it were."
"I thought you all worked for a corporation? Whoever has the most shares has the biggest vote. Isn't that the way it works?"
"Maybe in the old days, not anymore."
Trace's eyes narrowed as he processed this new information. The corporate world, a place that he admittedly knew little about, was even more convoluted than he had realized. "So what exactly is on this data prism that's worth killing over?"
Hobin-Jin shook his head wearily. "I don't know the specifics. I was just told to deliver it to you and ensure you viewed the contents. The stockholder who sent me - seemed to think it was vital you received this information."
Trace spun the prism in a circle as he placed it on his desk, eyeing it thoughtfully. "And I'm just supposed to trust that this isn't some kind of trap? For all I know, you could have swapped the data prisms, and this will unleash a virus into whichever systems I plug it into the moment I access it."
The injured man chuckled darkly. "If we wanted to compromise your NetConnect, Trace, trust me, there are far easier ways than this elaborate charade. No, whatever is on there is legitimate, at least to my knowledge."
The man had a point there. Trace didn't know a lot about that side of being a system ghost. It wasn't what he had been studying to accomplish. That said, he had spoken with Deckard enough to know what the man was capable of, and frankly, a lot of it terrified him. The guy had just swiped millions of credits from the safety of Trace's basement!
Who else could do that?
Not him, that was for sure. It required a totally different skill set than the ones he was attempting to cultivate.
Trace noticed Hobin-Jin's eyes flicking from the screen to the railgun on the desk and then back again several times. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Leaving it out in the open after returning to the apartment had been a mistake on his part.
"That's one of our weapons, isn't it?"
"Yup." He didn't even bother denying it. The few modifications he had made to its exterior weren't enough to hide the original maker.
"It looks like you've made a few improvements to it…"
He grunted, keeping his eyes on the screen and the people who were beginning to approach the warehouse. The ones on the roof stood around the hatch but made no move to try and force it open.
"I assume that came from the incident before?" He braced himself and got to his feet. "Well, if that is the case, that matter has already been taken care of. A weapon or two is less of an issue than one of our personal cyberware arms." The man stared at Trace's arm and shook his head. "Not that it looks like you need to worry about that. We've already had your arm investigated and checked out several times. It doesn't match anything we make. If anyone asks, just tell them that you got the gun from the mess today."
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Trace nodded. "I can do that. Now, what are we going to do about them? It looks like they are content to wait… for you, me, someone. Not to mention, you all destroyed a bunch of my packages. Do you have any idea how much those things cost?"
Actually, neither did he. The more expensive machines wouldn't have simply been left in front of the door like that. Still, there were a lot of packages out there, and some of them had been large. Even if they hadn't been the technical pieces, it still added up. Not to mention few of the items that had been ordered would work better with bullet holes in them.
The injured section leader rolled his eyes. "If you survive this, send me an itemized list of everything we damaged." His eyes flashed as he sent his contact information to Trace through a point-to-point message.
Trace smirked. "Oh, I'll survive. Don't blame me if a few extra items somehow find themselves onto the list. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I remember seeing some lucky shots hitting one of my cars. Fixing those are expensive, you know?"
The man stared at him in disbelief and began laughing and alternately groaning in pain. "Whatever, just don't go overboard, or the corporation will send someone after you instead of paying."
Trace lost his smirk, suddenly serious. "I wasn't joking when I said that equipment was expensive. I don't know how much of it was out there, but I had ordered well over five million credits' worth of equipment."
The corpo whistled softly. "What sort of equipment were you buying? If you don't mind me asking?"
Trace waved away the man's concern. "A decent 3D printer, a CNC machine, and other tools to help me fill this place out. That's not counting the metal sheets, various material spools, and different components -transistors, capacitors, integrated circuits- and the like."
That was an extremely basic list and barely covered a portion of what had been on the list Deckard had ordered from.
"Yeah, that might be an issue," The man freely admitted. "However, in the end, that is all corporation politics and none of your business. I'll do what I can to push it through, but I wouldn't expect the full amount."
"Whatever, just do what you can, I guess." It wasn't like he had even identified how bad the damage was yet, in any case. Trace opened the door of his apartment, grabbing his assault rifle as he passed the desk. "Have you received any messages from them? I'm going to be super annoyed if I open that door and they start shooting at me right away."
Hobin-Jin snorted in amusement before shaking his head. "No, they've set up a blackout site around the warehouse. No communications in or out."
Trace's attention flicked to his HUD, noting that the primary signal had indeed gone dark. However, the internet connection was flickering in and out. It didn't look like they had taken into account the increased strength of his new internet connection when they had calibrated the device. Something that they would remain unaware of for the time being, since it was being routed through a completely private network. Unless he told them, they would remain unaware for the time being.
It might prove to be useful in the future. Although, he would rather just not run into this particular problem again.
Trace inched the door open, and the corpo pushed his face slightly out the door. "He has the message; it is too late. Stand down, James, Gerald, Kim-So, I know you three are out among the group attacking me. Call it off. Your mission has failed."
"We could still kill him!" One of them growled.
"It wouldn't matter. It wasn't that sort of message." Hobin-Jin spent another minute convincing them all to stand down before he risked leaving the safety of the door.
A short time later they were gone, taking the bodies of their fallen with them. Trace did manage to scrounge up a few weapons they had left for him, but that was it. He had yet to look at the data prism and had only taken a quick moment to hide it before starting his current activity.
He had the large warehouse doors open and was in the middle of moving everything inside when Ko drove up in Sevorah's tiny car. She was one of the ones who had replied to his message, though he had received the reply too late for it to matter.
Stick-Point had been the one with the actual answer as to who the man had been and had been frantically trying to get in touch with Trace by the time the message went through.
"Hey, Ko, I didn't expect you to show up like this. What's going on?"
She opened the passenger side door of the small vehicle. "We're moving Hannah from Sevorah's clinic to my clinic for the time being, as it has more space available. There is also the fact that mine isn't actually up and running yet, so it will be more peaceful for her."
The woman in question currently looked as though she didn't even understand the meaning of the word. He had seen less intense reactions from strung-out drug addicts who were itching for their next fix. She was twitching and scratching at her chest and legs. Each spot was a place where she had been forced to accept a cyberware attachment during her impromptu torture and surgery session.
It was apparent that even with the help from the G.H.O.S.T. System, she was still having a hard time accepting the changes forced on her. At the very least, it was a sign of success, and the older woman's will to keep pushing on that she hadn't succumbed to cyberpsychosis.
Hannah's new mechanical eyes roved wildly around the interior of his warehouse. "This isn't a clinic, Devko. No, this is someplace else. Can I not trust her? But she is the one who helped save me? Does this count as being saved? Everything itches, my insides, my mind-" Her head jerked, and the sides of her eyes ticked nervously as she rapidly devolved into a one-sided conversation. "I can't scratch it. Everything is wrong!" She screamed loudly, holding the sides of her head.
"This isn't my body- Not my eyes, my legs. Even my chest is wrong. Everything feels off. Each breath has a different weight, my saliva has a different taste. This isn't my body. Whose body is-"
Before she could go farther down that particular train of thought Trace leaped forward and smacked her for all he was worth. It might not have been the medicine most menders would have prescribed, but a good brain reset via sleep or unconsciousness was exactly what that woman needed at the moment. She was far too close to going off the deep end for his liking.
"I thought you said she was getting better?" He hissed at Ko as the woman slumped limply in the seat.
"She was, but I'm pretty sure she stopped using the system for whatever reason," Ko explained with a groan, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't realize she was this bad though, or I wouldn't have brought her here. I just wanted to have a proper discussion about the GHOST System with her, finally. That's all."