Neon Dust [Progression Cyberpunk]

39 – Digging up Dirt

Tony watched Glitchwitch do her thing, eyes obscured by her visor, fingers dancing through the air, messing with some invisible—to Tony—UI element, while she hummed softly and tapped her toes. He sipped his coffee and shifted on the couch, reaching back to pull a wadded-up sweatshirt from the gap between the cushions. The netjacker might be talented, but she was a damn mess when it came to her apartment.

"Anything?" he prodded.

Glitchwitch sighed, her mouth twisting into a smile that said she was working hard to be patient. "Shep, you came to me with this yesterday. Then you show up at my place… If I didn't like you guys—some more than others"—her tone grew even more wry—"then I'd kick your butt out! Anyway, I'm getting somewhere, gimme a minute."

"Right. Thanks, Glitch. I mean, Ember's meeting with someone, and I wanna get this Beef thing cleared up, that's all. My bits are good, right?"

She sighed, clicking her tongue. "Yeah, sure, Shep. They're good. You know, I think Beef is cool, too. I'd help without—"

"Nah. You gotta eat." Tony waved a hand dismissively, even though she wasn't looking his way. He sipped his coffee again, wincing at the acrid tang. He'd picked it up along the way and wasn't a fan. The cup he'd gotten for Glitchwitch sat on her desk, forlorn. She'd only taken a single sip, and he had a feeling she felt the same way about it. "This coffee is awful."

Glitchwitch glanced at him, her eyes hidden behind her visor, but her smile was much brighter this time. "It's the thought that counts." She reached up to smooth back her soft-but-firm white mohawk as she slid her visor off, revealing her bright, too-blue eyes.

"Hey! I just remembered. Didn't you change your hair?"

"Yeah. I mean, I still have the upgraded tresses, but I styled them like I used to. Sue me! I like a certain look. I can change it with a thought, anyway; these short hairs"—she rubbed the faint stubble on the sides of her head—"can grow an inch an hour."

"Damn. That's cool." Tony arched an eyebrow, nodding.

"Anyway, I just did a deep dive on the Helldogs and I'm pretty sure I know who's got a"—her smile grew self-satisfied—"beef with Beef."

Tony chuckled charitably. "Very nice."

She nodded. "So, Beef's an enforcer, which is kind of like a lieutenant. Beneath him are 'hounds', which are like soldiers. Above him are the captains, or as he would call them, 'shot callers.' And, of course, above the shot callers is the big boss. Beef has two rival enforcers named Red Gomez and Big J. The three of them answer to a shot caller named Whiskey."

"Yeah?" Tony smiled as Nora took the initiative to make a little graphical command tree on his AUI.

"Yeah. I called those other enforcers rivals for a reason. I guess the Helldogs make them compete for territory, and Beef's got the most. He's what they call a 'good earner.' Whiskey doesn't want him to go anywhere, and, even if he did, Red Gomez and Big J wouldn't be cool with it; they're vindictive like that."

Tony tilted his head as he looked at her. "How'd you figure all that out? I mean, that they're vindictive and whatnot?"

Glitchwitch snorted softly and wiggled her fingers in the air like she was casting a spell. "I read between the lines, Shep. Message boards, back-channel scraps, burner-chat leaks. You'd be amazed at what kind of dirt people drop when they think no one's scraping the crumbs."

She tapped her visor against her knee, her grin curling wider. "Big J's name comes up every time someone's spot gets torched. Red Gomez has a habit of dropping 'anonymous' tipoffs that magically get rivals picked up by corpo-sec. Vindictive isn't a guess—it's a pattern."

"So…" Tony frowned, trying to work it out. "Wouldn't they want Beef gone?"

Glitchwitch grinned, shaking her head. "You don't understand vindictive, do you? Yeah, they'd like to see him lose his shit, but they wouldn't be cheering if Whiskey cut him loose because he wanted to go. In fact, they'd probably spread all kinds of rumors about how their captain was weak. That's aside from the fact that they'd gobble up Beef's turf—as much as they could before a new enforcer was put in place—and you better believe they'd be hard on the folks Beef was friendly with."

Tony nodded, moving to sit on the edge of the couch. "So it's Red Gomez and Big J I gotta deal with."

"Well…" Glitchwitch frowned, shaking her head as she smoothed her palm over her mohawk. "I think it's more complicated than that. If they both, uh, disappeared, I doubt Beef could walk away. There'd be too much of a power vacuum. Whiskey wouldn't let him go easily."

Tony smiled and stretched his neck. "There are other ways to deal with guys like that than to make them disappear."

"Like?"

"Like, if we can turn one of them. Get some dirt, maybe, or leverage. Make him back Beef publicly, with Whiskey. Then the other guy just looks like a sore loser if he starts making noise when Beef steps out."

Glitchwitch smiled. "Oh? Some dirt?"

"Yeah, and we don't even really have to find it. I mean, dirt's free all over the place." Tony winked. "If you put something together, I can put it in the right spot to make one of those guys look bad. I'll point it out, let him know I'll be quiet as long as he supports Beef, and there we have it: power shift in the Helldogs."

Glitchwitch continued to stroke her feathery hair, nodding slowly. "I think I'm seeing where you're going with this, Mr. Shepherd. I've got an idea that might season the dirt a little. Didn't you say that suit from Boxer—the one you did that job for—owes you a favor? I mean, besides the gig he wants you to run?"

"Not explicitly," Tony said, frowning thoughtfully, "but I think I could get him to listen. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing much." Glitchwitch's grin turned mischievous. "Just an official Boxer transmission, straight from his office, all the right security tags. Maybe something like: Thanks for the info on the Helldogs, Mr. Gomez. Let us know if the payment reached you." She giggled, eyes gleaming.

"Oh, shit." Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I could probably make that happen. He wouldn't even have to lift a finger—just toss it to his AI or secretary." He nodded slowly, mulling it over. If they could leverage one of the other enforcers into backing Beef's exit… "Yeah. I think that's the play. Can you make it look like the message went straight to Gomez? I mean, do we need to get into his personal—"

"I got you." Glitchwitch stood and moved to a stack of plastic crates near her desk, rummaging through them. "I'll give you a burst-cracker. If you can get close to the guy, I'll use it to sneak some daemons into his PAI. We'll plant the message, then"—she paused, laughing a decidedly evil little laugh—"we'll have him send the message to you. He won't be able to deny it came from his PAI—the encryption key'll make that crystal." She snapped her fingers. "Skippity pop, you've got your leverage."

Tony snorted. "Skippity pop, huh?"

Glitch shrugged, still grinning as she dropped into her chair and spun lazily. "Want me to make the burst-cracker or not?"

"Yeah." Tony made a fist and held it out to her. She smirked, but didn't hold back from giving his plasteel knuckles a pop. "You sure we should do Gomez? Why not Big J?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Gomez has more pull. He's been around longer. He used to work in a different territory, so he's got connections with more than one shot caller."

Tony frowned. "You think they'll believe he flipped? I mean, he has to buy the evidence will get him iced or my leverage is worthless."

"As long as your contact comes through? A genuine transmission out of Boxer HQ is hard to spoof. It goes through about five layers of ICE, and each one has a signature. If you can demonstrate that to Gomez, he's gonna capitulate. It's not uncommon for bangers to sell out, and he's getting old enough that the shot callers will know he's thinking about retirement…" She shrugged, trailing off, but Tony could connect the dots just fine. It was almost too good.

"Thanks for the idea, Glitch. I mean, about calling in the favor with Ross."

She smiled, nodding. "Reach out to him, and I'll get to work on this burst-cracker." She held up the little black aluminum device she'd scrounged from her stash.

"Right." Tony looked around the cluttered apartment, then nodded toward the door. "Gonna step outside."

She shrugged. "Hit up the bodega on the corner, would you? I need some sugar."

"Like…"

She tapped the device against her forehead with a soft click. "Like chocolate. This thing hasn't been updated in more than a year, so it's gonna take some doing."

"Right. You got it." Tony walked to the door and slipped out, jerking it closed with a metallic scrape. Had it always been so tight? He felt like he ought to adjust the hinges for her.

"Shall I reach out to Mr. Ross?" Nora asked as he started up the little set of concrete steps.

Tony grunted as he sat down on the top step. "Yeah. He's waiting to hear about his job, anyway. Hang on, though. Before you call him, let me send a message to Addie." He focused on his AUI and mentally typed out his message.

Tony: Hey, Ads. I'm working on that Beef thing, and I have an idea. Gonna need a favor from Ross, though. Was thinking I'd use our acceptance of his job as a bit of leverage. If that's not cool, message me back.

That done, Tony stood and walked down to the bodega. He figured he'd give her a few minutes to reply before he called Ross. Glitch's building was right in the middle of the block, and the corner was occupied by a big apartment stack, the bottom floor of which was leased out to retail businesses. A group of young guys was hanging around the door, talking, laughing, and generally bothering anyone who went through the automated doors. An older woman pulling a motorized grocery cart was the focus of their attention when Tony approached.

"Let us have some of those crackers, Granny," one of the kids said. He was tall, pale, with long, greasy hair and a huge Adam's apple in his neck that bobbed up and down as he chortled.

"Leave that alone!" she snapped, swatting at his hand as he reached for her basket.

Tony's first impulse was to walk right by, happy that the little assholes were distracted and wouldn't bother him. In fact, he started to do just that, but as another of the street rats grabbed the back of the woman's cart and pretended he was riding it, swatting his butt like he was a robo-bronc rider, he couldn't help wondering what Addie would say.

He paused beside the little sideshow and, before he could really think about it, reached out with his left hand to snatch the kid's ear, twisting it. "Get off that cart, dipshit."

"Hey, dick—yow!"

Tony twisted and jerked the ear, pulling him to the side. He shifted while he moved, turning so his back was to the building entrance, and the four teens were in front of him. "Shut up."

As he'd hoped, the kids were all fully focused on him by that point, and the woman was able to walk past unbothered. "Yo, you know who you're messing with?" the biggest one, up to that point quiet, asked. He had a buzz-cut and wore a synth leather jacket and baggy jeans held up by a chain-link belt.

Tony smirked. "Looks like a banger wannabe to me. Let me guess, one of your big brothers—no, I bet it's a cousin—promised to get you jumped in this summer."

"You know Chino?" the skinny guy with the Adam's apple asked, peering sideways at Tony.

"He don't know me, dumbass!" the big guy—Chino, apparently—growled. He stepped closer, and Tony took the opportunity to shove the bronc rider aside, giving his ear a parting tweak. Meanwhile, Chino puffed out his chest, thumping it with a fist. "I'm already a prospect for the Red Thumbs. Whatchu know about that?"

"Red Thumbs, huh? Didn't they use to run Royal Breeze?"

Chino nodded, folding his arms, scowling at Tony. His buddies took up flanking positions, the tall kid kind of looming over Chino's right shoulder. Tony figured he could kick the shit out of them, but beating up teenagers didn't really sound like the kind of thing a "good" guy would do. He was trying to be good, wasn't he? Wasn't that the whole reason he was squaring off with the little shits?

"So, are they hurting now that the place sold? I doubt they'll be able to shake down the megacorp moving in."

"Red Thumbs make plenty!" the bronc rider said, trying to mimic Chino's posture.

Tony shrugged. "Whatever. Was just curious. Anyway, I doubt they'd like to know you guys are standing around hassling old ladies. That's not prospect behavior, at least not on your own turf. You never heard that?"

Chino's glower faltered a little, and he turned his dark brows to the left, scanning the sidewalk. After a minute, he shrugged. "Doesn't mean you can go around assaulting my crew."

Tony tried not to let his amusement show at the idea that they were any sort of "crew." He nodded, pulling his plasteel fist out of his coat pocket. Slowly, he let his habitual, disinterested slouch fall away, standing up straight as he clicked his plasteel fingers into a fist. "I get it. One of you guys wanna call me out? I mean for your little buddy's honor? Hell, he can call me out if he wants."

"Hey, uh, Chino?" the fourth member of their party said, holding up a finger. "Uh, Chino—"

"What, fool?" Chino glared at the kid.

"Uh, I think that's that dude. Shepherd, right?"

Tony grinned. "Oh? You know me?" Maybe this was going to be easier than he thought.

"Shepherd?" Chino's heavy brow wrinkled, then slowly smoothed out as his eyes widened. "Oh, shit! Man! Why didn't you say so? Hell, dude, we were watching one of your fights just yesterday!"

"Ah, cool." Tony nodded to the market. "I gotta buy some stuff. We good?"

"All good." Chino nodded, holding out a fist. Tony shrugged, giving it a punch. As his plasteel fingers clacked against Chino's meaty knuckles, the kid added, "But Slow John's on his way. He's the Red Thumb boss of this block, and he wants a piece of your ass."

###

"That's very good, Ember," Pyroshi said, his rich, resonant voice coming from right behind her. Addie had her eyes closed and was focusing on the way she was shifting the Dust into patterns as she pushed it out of her palms. Pyroshi was trying to teach her a less-lethal way to defend herself with Dust. It was outside his usual curriculum for a student at her level, but he said he wanted to help her have at least the option of not killing someone who was threatening her.

"You've got the four strands. Now, you've got to open your eyes, but try to maintain your hold. You should still be able to see the Dust."

Addie nodded and slowly opened her eyes, smiling as she immediately saw the four faintly glowing, string-like clusters of amber Dust hovering between her hands. "Can everyone see it?"

"Not everyone. Just someone with enough of the talent." Pyroshi slowly moved into her field of view. "Keep it steady. Don't let my movement distract you. Now, I'm going to help you, but you need to practice so you can perform this almost without thinking. This skill should be the first line of defense for a Dust adept. I mean, unless you want to blast every threat that comes your way into slag."

Addie scowled. "Don't make me regret telling you about that!"

"Hush. Stay focused. Don't worry, I don't judge you. Now, you have four strands for a reason. I have two hands, yes?" He held his hands before him, just half a meter from Addie's. "Dust is funny stuff; it has a way of interpreting our intentions. The patterns and actions I teach you—they've been proven to communicate intentions clearly to this strange stuff. If you take two of those strands, the ones floating by your right hand, and push them around my wrist, tying them in a knot, the Dust will understand your intention."

"Like, just move the dust over to you the way I have been with those drills?"

"Exactly. Manipulate those two strands and tie them together around my wrist. The first few times it's hard, but it gets easier and—" He stopped short as Addie pushed the two threads with her mind, driving them toward his hand and looping them around his wrist. In seconds, she'd strung them together in a loose knot. "Ah!"

Addie laughed as he stretched his arm over his head, reaching for the sky. When she saw his almost panicked expression, though, she stopped laughing and hurriedly reached out for him, losing her other two threads in the process. It was his turn to laugh as he shook his arm and lowered it. "I'm a Dust adept, Ember! You don't have to worry; I know how to break such a hold. Still, that was very strong! And you did it so quickly! I'm impressed."

"The Dust just lifted your arm upward? How hard was it pulling?"

"Hard!" He laughed. "Harder than mine! You're strong. I think if you looped both my wrists, my feet would have come off the ground!"

Addie laughed, smiling at his joyful expression. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic and utterly uninterested in competition. It was very refreshing. She could only imagine the seething glare Zane would have sent her if she'd performed one of his tricks better than he could. "I'm glad Torque put me in touch with you. You're a good teacher."

"Thank you, Ember." He sat down on the bench across from her; they were in Aurora Park again. Pyroshi said the sun was good for them, and there were too few sparks in the Blast to worry about people snooping on their business. He looked like he was contemplating his next words, but just then, Addie got another message from Tony, and she stood up.

"Do you want a drink? I could use a little break."

"That would be nice. A lemon-ice drink." He nodded to the row of food and drink carts near the memorial.

"My pleasure! Be back soon." Addie started away quickly. She didn't think he'd offer to come along; it was clear she wanted a minute alone, and he didn't seem to have trouble discerning social cues, but she didn't want to risk it. As soon as she was a few steps away, she opened her message app.

Tony: Hey, uh, I don't mean to complain, per se, but those fight vids you've got up are starting to be a problem.