I was writing this for a contest that had a 5,000 word limit… but then got distracted by other shiny things and forgot about the contest…
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It was raining. The sounds of vehicles filled the lanes. Mike could smell the setting sun, the feinted finality of it. He could sense the dew of a new front moving in for the upcoming day. He didn’t mind the rain. It always rained.
He walked along Rivershore, a cigar in one hand and his sonic cane in the other. With it, he was able to stay on the sidewalk, the electronic aid giving him proximity detection of anything within two metres of him.
Today was supposed to be a wonderful day. This morning he had gotten up, grabbed the sonic cane for what he had hoped was the last time, and made his way to CyOptics. He had lost his eyes as a child, and today he would have new ones. But it wasn’t to be. His body didn’t accept the neural interface. He had gone into shock. They barely resuscitated him in time. He wasn’t sure why they had bothered.
He stood by the catwalk, leaning against the rail, hearing the muffled rush of the river below him. The bridge was over a hundred feet up in the air, suspended by composite wires that seemed to whine as cars shot by. He listened to their harmonic resonance, letting the sound carry him for a while before returning to his dark reality.
He took one last whiff of his cigar, and tossed it off the edge, imagining the final embers get carried away by the wind. He then stepped onto the ledge, feeling its highest point, readying himself for the hoist. It would be quick. Idly, he wondered what awaited him in another life, if there even was such a thing.
On the other side now, holding onto the composite wire, the wind howling at him, daring him to do it: to let go and slip into the ether. He imagined himself as a Phoenix spreading its wings for the last time, ready to be reborn. With a push, he was airborne, and falling.
–
–
Green, endless green – It overwhelmed him. He tried to close his eyes but couldn’t. He didn’t understand. He focused. The colors! Childhood memories told him what this was: An image! It was a miracle. Was this heaven? He tried to move, unable. His gaze was fixed straight ahead.
Okay, he thought, testing the view, analyzing every pixel. He recognized figures standing by the foot of the river. They had shovels. He took a closer look, their faces obscured by the darkness. They were standing over a mound of dirt, the rain beating down on them.
“Did you hear that?” asked one of the figures.
Was he witnessing his burial? Had they buried him in that dirt? But why couldn’t he move? This body wasn’t what he’d considered an ethereal entity’s to be.
Cold: It was a powerful sensation that took him by surprise. He felt it eating away at his limbs. Why couldn’t he move them? He tried again.
“There!” said one of the voices, pointing at a ripple off in the distance.
“A jumper?”
“Looks like it. What do we do?”
“The police will be looking for him.”
“Calm down. Grab his body, get it on the beach, we’ll make it easy to find.”
The figures were moving towards the ripple. He zoomed in with his new eyes, tracking their progress. He felt hands clasp him, begin dragging him to the shore. He wanted to look behind him, but his gaze was fixed. He was still alive.
“Do you think he’s still alive?”
“No way.”
They dropped him by the shore, making their way up the trail back to the city.
The body on the shore was definitely his. He could feel the burn from his muscles as he tried to move them, still tense from the cold. He watched himself get up, noticing the difficulty it took.
He zoomed in to check himself over, turning slowly so his new eyes got a good look. He wondered if this little place would be the only thing he’d ever see. With that thought, he was overwhelmed with sight: Views from an uncountable number of different sources suddenly made themselves apparent. He began switching between them, getting used to the different types of visual feeds. It took a while to acclimatize to them.
One of the camera feeds caught his bionic eye. There were people going down the trail towards where he was standing. They had guns.
He had to hide. Would they see him? The thought changed his perspective: he was now viewing the ingress through the eyes of one of the men. The man had basic neurovision. It was what Mike had laid on the operating bed for. The cliff side had a bunch of wet shrubs, Mike hid there. The sap oozed on him. The twigs nipped at his open wounds, but there was no claustrophobia, not with all these eyes at his disposal.
“Where is he? We saw him jump.”
“I don’t know. I lost his feed.”
“Check everywhere. He could be hiding.”
What do these people want with him? Who would send four armed men to intercept someone who’d tried to commit suicide? Instinct told him to escape. He had to get out of here before they found him. He would have to go in the other direction.
He waited until none of the men were looking (which wasn’t difficult considering the direct feeds) and started moving along the cliff wall away from them, using the foliage to stay concealed. It was dark, and basic neurovision didn’t seem to give them any night vision enhancements.
As he moved out of the line of sight of all of the cameras, another problem presented itself: He couldn’t see himself, and now he was knee deep in fast flowing river water, hanging onto the branches jutting out from the side of the cliff, with the only hint of direction being his awareness of a camera a few hundred meters in front of him that was overlooking a drainage pipeline.
He wasn’t sure how he’d made it there through the cold, dirty water. He had nearly drowned multiple times, but he’d continued on. There was no pain in his body now. He actually felt pretty good! He caught his breath by the drainage pipe, hoisting himself up and resting against the door to the small facility. The cameras in the facility showed him he could go all the way to the surface where the city was. He was starting to feel an affinity towards these mechanical eyes.
“Alright.” he muttered, testing his voice. It was dry and raspy. He needed water, and food. The pains were beginning to return, and his wounds started to hurt again. The cameras told him that the pipeline was empty and abandoned. One of them was staring at a first aid kit.
”I need to get inside.” he declared. This drainage pipe was too small, but there was a larger tunnel below the water… it was a sewer system. He could use the sewer system to get to the facility. But his wounds… to hell with it, he could worry about that later. He had to get to safety, and he sure as hell wasn’t swimming all the way back to the path where those men were. This facility itself was almost a godsend, cut into the side of the massive cliff. They had probably abandoned it after the bridge’s construction.
It took several minutes of contemplation to finally build up the courage to dive underwater. He mitigated the fear by imagining this all as a holomovie. I’m merely an actor, he thought, as he pulled himself up on the catwalk. Unfortunately, the movie reel had abruptly stopped: There were no cameras in this corridor.
Thump. He heard something. He froze, pressing himself up against the wall. Smells overwhelmed him. This place was disgusting. Thump—Scurrying. Something was here, something big and heavy.
His breathing was starting to quicken, fear taking over. He had to move. Move! He had to get to a camera. He swept his awareness through the different mechanical eyes at his disposal, searching for movement. One of them caught something, a silhouette of something big. A tail trailed behind it with a glint.
“Shit!” he whimpered before he could stop himself. It was a Vorchan’s tail. They were deadly, and there were rumour of rogues living down in the sewers, feeding off the lower echelons of society. He had to get the hell out of here, but he wasn’t sure where back was anymore! He had to move! He began to run, brushing his hand along the wall to make sure he wouldn’t keel over into the sewer system. When the wall by his hand turned he turned with it, following the corridors as he continued running deeper and deeper. He was nearing the first camera now. The camera that had spotted the beast was a few junctions in the other direction.
Thump. Something landed behind him. It must have dropped down from the ceiling. He started to run faster. He could hear its footsteps as it closed in on him. He started to hear its breathing, its panting. He focused on it.
Suddenly his world turned red. He saw himself only meters away, running as fast as he could. He felt the creature’s hunger. Glyphs overlapped him, vector analysis routines. The entire view was in infra-red. Time seemed to slow down as he linked himself with the beast’s eyes in full harmony, almost in awe at the telemetry that was being broadcasted into his brain through his pursuer.
The realization struck him, the creature inches from him now. This wasn’t an ordinary rogue.
“VE?” he cried out in surprise, diving out of the way as the creature lunged, splashing itself into the water below as it missed. He watched it propel itself down to the floor of the sewers and then shoot itself back up again, a spume of water behind it. It dug itself into the wall across from him on the other side of the sewer river. He saw its eyes zoom in on him. He was a faceless yellow and red target to this creature. Pippers superimposed themselves over the beast’s neurovision, highlighting him with engagement envelope lines and continuously computed impact points. Only the Vorchan Empire had technology like that.
“Don’t shoot me, Vorchan!” cried Mike.
“How can you see?” he snarled, “You have no eyes.”
His body heard the guttural roars as terrifying snarls and snaps, but through the Vorchan’s implants, comprehension seemed possible.
“I don’t know. I can see through cameras.” it sounded ridiculous.
The Vorchan propelled itself across the river, gliding with its wings, claws screeching on landing as it came to a halt in front of him. They were the same height, but he assumed the creature was on all-fours.
It was smelling him. “What do you want? You aren’t like the others.”
Mike was taken aback by the statement. “What others?”
“The rejected ones.”
“Homeless?”
“You aren’t like them. You don’t smell like abandon. You have strength. What do you want?”
Michael leaned against the wall, never in his life thinking he’d ever encounter a Vorchan, let alone get complimented by one. “Traveling.”
The creature seemed to relax. Mike caught a glimpse of the large Vorchan’s wings as it looked at them, folding them back. They were sheathed in some sort of chrome alloy.
The Vorchan sat down on hind legs, the vision’s IR filter disappearing. The world became calm and normal again. Targeting data went away.
“Do you have a name?” Mike asked.
“They once called me Fjorynn.” growled the Vorchan. “You knew I was VE?”
“The implants – Those are military. I watched movies about them. I never actually experienced one before. Amazing.” he was feeling more comfortable now too.
Suddenly Fjorynn lunged forward, lapping at Mike’s wounds with his tongue. Mike yelped in surprise, trying to escape but trapped against the wall he had been leaning against.
“What are you doing?” Mike stammered.
“You forgot to purify.” growled the Vorchan. “How can you see through my eyes?”
Mike started telling him the story of his arrival here. How he’d tried to kill himself after the failed operation. He was completely honest. He figured he wouldn’t survive this encounter without co-operating anyways.
“Omnihacking.” Fjorynn explained. “But these are closed-circuit. They are not on a neural band. They must have done something else too.”
“Who? CyOptics? Why?” Mike asked.
“An accident.” Fjorynn suggested.
“I hope it’s just that. I hope they aren’t looking for me.”
“They will not come here. They’re aware.”
“How did you end up here?”
The Vorchan snorted. It smelled like napalm, making Mike cough. “I live here.”
“Why?”
“Are you traveling to the complex?” Fjorynn asked.
“There are supplies in that complex. Once I have everything I need I could get home – find out what’s going on. See if those people keep following me.”
“It is unlikely they will know where you are. You were simply incurring on their area of operations. They moved in to eliminate you but lost sight of you. Since you went here they will not be able to track your egress. I destroyed the network hub for the surveillance system in the facility. They will not be able to use it. They know it belongs to me. They most likely assume I have already killed you.”
“How long were you in the VE?” Mike asked.
“Too long. Our species aren’t that different.” The Vorchan’s vision blurred for a moment. It must have yawned. “Go. I grow tired.” It sat down on all fours, resting its head on its paws. They were black, with old red scars across them.
Mike started walking along the corridor, using his hands to guide him. “Fjorynn, but what if it wasn’t an accident?”
The Vorchan shook, unfurling his wings again. He outstretched one wing towards him. Through the Vorchan’s eyes Mike could see the array of equipment on that wing, mounted like weapons on a fighter craft. “Take this.”
Mike clumsily reached for the cargo pod attached to one of the hardpoints.
“A beemspace transceiver, activate it if you are in danger.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“If they are following you then your abilities are not an accident. I will want to know how it was done. The encryption on my combat interface is supposed to be unbreakable.”
“Right, they could use this against you in the future.”
Fjorynn growled. Mike heard the pressure wave as the large beast extended his wings, standing up on two legs. The Vorchan scanned the sewer system around him. “Stealth is my weapon. Without it they could destroy me.”
“I’ll let you know if they come for me. Thanks for the help, Fjorynn.” Mike said.
“Fly— err walk safe.” Fjorynn growled, sitting back down.
Mike nodded and made his way up to the complex, grateful to be in camera view again.
–
–
He felt determined now, alive. He slipped into the coveralls he’d found, hiding the beemspace transceiver in a pouch on his belt. The camera in the locker room wasn’t very good, but he was able to use it to see where his wounds were, and what to hide. He’d have to hide his eyes. He rummaged around, finding eye protection goggles in one of the lockers. He’d have to tint them somehow. Several more minutes passed as he looked for something that would tint the glasses. Finally he resorted to duct tape, hoping nobody would get close enough to notice.
He looked ridiculous, but he might be able to pass off as a mechanic. He sat down next to a toolbox. He awoke countless hours later. He used a camera’s timer to see for how long he’d succumbed to sleep. It was 0801 – he’d slept five hours.
The Vorchan hadn’t disinfected his face. The skin where his eyes should be was red and scarred and swollen. It was starting to excrete something too. It smelled almost like hydraulic fluid. He gently wiped the scars with disinfectant, tending to the wounds using the first aid kit he’d seen before.
After having seen his eyes up close, he felt his moral dropping again. He’d give all of this up to have his own sight…
“Hmm.” Mike pulled a ladder up against the camera, climbing up to it. He was extended well outside its view now: a massive being to the small mechanical object’s bifocal lens. He reached for it, expecting to feel his cold hands on the camera’s neck as he tugged. Of course, there was no sensation, but the phantom feeling was strange, he almost expected pain. As he pulled, the feed began to distort. This wasn’t going to work, the camera used electricity. If he pulled it out it would die. But he had to see! He needed his own camera!
When Mike had been a normal Raumen citizen, he’d taken a few courses in electronics. Perhaps he’d be able to jury-rig a power supply using a battery of some sort… he did have a lot of equipment here. But he wouldn’t be able to see himself work if he took this camera.
It took several hours, having taken a camera he deemed redundant, overlooking a junction that had another camera overlooking it on the opposite end. He worked on it in the locker room. It wasn’t too difficult to do – these cameras were designed to take all sorts of current. The moment he hooked up the leads, the clunky camera came to life in his hands. He could see himself looking down on it.
“Hello there.” he crooned, moving it around. He began to laugh, this was great!
He put the camera over his shoulder, putting the battery packet and extra wire in his right pocket. He wasn’t sure how long it would last – not that long most likely. He grabbed more packs and made his way into the city.
He was now a camera repairman. The disguise worked perfectly, nobody really gave him a second glance. He made it all the way to his house, watching himself enter his bedroom.
That wasn’t right. Why was there a camera in this building? He reached out, noticing cameras in several other rooms. There were cameras everywhere, cameras that weren’t supposed to exist. He could see people sleeping, eating, getting on with their lives. Why were there cameras here? He was appalled, this was illegal! He moved his omnihacking presence to his living room, scanning for cameras. It was clear. It was a strange relief knowing there were cameras in other rooms too, it meant they hadn’t installed them to watch him in particular. Maybe he’d figure out the names of all the people being watched one day… get to the bottom of this. Whatever. He had to get on with his life. Let the bastards watch him if they want.
He used his new eyes to watch himself shower. It had been so long since he’d been able to see. He thought of all the possibilities that awaited him with these new abilities. What would he do? He saw everything. Anything designed for monitoring was open to him. He could bypass any simple surveillance system, sneak away from any police or security officer – they all wore combat implants nowadays. He could steal whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted. He didn’t have a job now, they’d fired him when they realized he wouldn’t get his sight back.
–
–
And then they came again. He contemplated activated the transceiver, but they hadn’t made a move. They were simply watching him eat. At first he’d thought they were police officers. A camera had caught a glimpse of him in his last robbery. He assumed they were just tracking him, treating him as a suspect. He had acted very casual, but they were still here: Watching him eat. To their defence, he did look pretty suspicious in his sunglasses. He had a small camera clipped to his lapel too, replacing the large clunky thing he now used to watch the entrance to his apartment. They may have spotted the lapel camera.
He turned to look at one of the operatives. The man glanced away, making eye contact with another individual a few tables away from him. Mike couldn’t sense that guy’s feed. He didn’t have implants. It didn’t matter. He used the restaurant surveillance system to monitor the individuals. It must have been the shoes. The implantless man had the same shoes as the others: Black leather dress shoes with a fine trim. Not many people wore dress shoes nowadays. Adaptive soles were all the rage. He had bought a pair himself.
He felt for the transceiver, then for his gun. He had bought one after he had made enough cash from the first few robberies. This would be interesting.
He got up, making his way straight for one of the operatives. He was glancing at his comrades nervously. Mike reached out his hand, smiling. “Hi, I’m Michael! I couldn’t help but notice you watching me.”
The operative stared at him for a few moments, dumbstruck. “I’m sorry sir I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” Mike sat down across from him. There were four other operatives watching him, plus two that didn’t have implants. “So why are you monitoring me? What did I do?”
“You’ve got the wrong guy, pal.” said the operative tersely.
Suddenly Mike’s awareness expanded. There was something else watching him. It made him sweat. It was big, hard to comprehend.
“No way…” Mike muttered.
“I’d like you to let me eat in peace, bud.” said the operative.
He couldn’t believe it. The entire restaurant was hit with a high frequency sensor pulse. Ocular strips were looking down on him, scanning the entire area for threats. Engagement routines were projected, course outlines. The neurovision showed him capacitor and reactor gauges, flight path markers.
A biomechanoid starship, up in orbit, watching him.
The thought terrified him. Beems didn’t work with normal people. If these operatives had beems under their employ then their worst-case-scenario theory must have been true. He thought back to their first encounter, to that shoreline by the bridge: The body. Maybe it had something to do with the body. Would it still be recognizable? No. Shit. But it was his only lead now. He wasn’t going to get any answers here. But he didn’t even know if the body and the men were related.
“I think you’re right.” Mike said. “You looked exactly like someone I once knew. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. Have a nice day.”
Mike went straight for the facility. He had to speak with Fjorynn.
It didn’t take long for the operatives to start following him again, along with beems overwatch. He hoped they’d still keep clear of the Vorchan.
–
They did. Fjorynn appeared just as he finished taking the ladder down to the sewers.
“You return.” he said.
Mike had never seen Fjorynn up-close before. His body seemed to be pitch black. He wore some sort of chrome suit over it. It had several different devices mounted onto its hardpoints. His eyes looked red, but he wasn’t sure if that was from his combat visor or his natural color. His tail and limbs were the most exposed, but the spikes and scales on them looked impregnable. He would not want to get into a fight with a creature like him.
“They’re following me, lots of them. They have a beems.”
“Beems? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I could see through its eyes.” Mike said, “It’s watching us now.”
Fjorynn looked up at the ceiling. “Can it see us through these walls?”
“Yes.”
“It must be a Descendent. They are combat-augmented. But it cannot fire. It would cause chaos. They work in the shadows.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
“We know what they are now. We know what they want. I will help you finish this.”
“How?”
“They will storm this place soon. They will be frightened. They will want you back if you were experimented on.”
“The body. They were burying a body. Do you think it could shed light on this?”
“I examined the body after you left.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Was it helpful?”
There was a pause, “No.” The Vorchan shook his head. “Those events may not be related. We have to leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. Can your species survive spaceflight?”
“You mean like, without a suit? No! We can’t.”
The Vorchan seemed to sigh. “Are they amassing yet?”
To Mike’s surprise, they were. A team of six men were just outside the entrance of the facility. Two more squads were rushing through the complex, making their way to the sewer entrance. They were standing right below it. “Shit they’re on top of us.”
The Vorchan extended his wings. Mike saw combat sensors reveal themselves from recesses along his armour. Massive autocannons began to spool up. “Get clear, Raumen.”
Mike ran, getting several meters of clearance before being deafened by automatic fire. He watched the feeds of several of the squad soldiers disappear as Fjorynn’s targeting pipper found them, bringing the autocannons’ maws of destruction to bear.
He had to cover his ears, the firefight was too loud. He slumped down against the bulkhead, feeling useless.
The beems, it was doing something. The targeting graphics had turned red, and they were overlain on Fjorynn.
“Fjorynn! Move!” he cried out.
There was a bright flash, the ceiling erupted in smoke and debris, followed by the entire area around Fjorynn. The feed from his visor was still active. He had leapt clear.
“Kinetic darts!” bellowed Fjorynn. “Follow me!”
The Vorchan propelled himself along the river, using ground effect to pick up speed. Mike was far behind, the squads closing in on him. He saw Fjorynn stop off in the distance, bringing some more weapons to bear on the squad closing on Mike.
The beems was having a hard time acquiring Fjorynn this time. It seemed distracted, focusing its attention on another ship past the planet’s terminator.
The concussion blast as the kinetic slug from Fjorynn’s gauss gun blew past Mike knocked him to his knees. He was shaking, too panic-stricken to get up again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol, trying to calm himself.
Another concussion wave followed by a massive explosion at the junction the squad had conglomerated at. Screams were filling the air now.
Gunfire, behind them. Fjorynn disappeared into the water.
“They’re everywhere.” Mike muttered, sweating profusely, hands shaking. It was holomovies that had taught him how these things worked. He pulled on the slide, it powered up compliantly. He pointed it at the gunmen that were firing into the river where Fjorynn had disappeared.
He fired, the recoil from the pistol knocking him back slightly.
The shot missed, some of the gunmen ducked, others turned towards him, bringing their rifles to bear.
A plume of red engulfed the gunmen and they all went limp, falling into the river. Mike only noticed the echo from the gunshots after.
“That should be the last of them.” Fjorynn growled, barely visible in the water, barrels smoking.
Mike followed the Vorchan to a small hangar. There was a shuttle there – pitch black, just like the Vorchan. It looked old, but it powered up immediately. “What about the beems?” Mike asked. “Won’t it shoot us down?”
“I took care of it.” Fjorynn replied calmly.
Mike couldn’t sense any beems up in orbit anymore.
–
Mike watched the planet disappear through the shuttle’s sensors. It was an awesome feeling. This was exhilarating. Never had he thought he’d be out in space. It was a world for the rich and the lucky.
“So what do we do now?” Mike asked.
Fjorynn retracted his visor, staring at Mike with those piercing red eyes.
“I’m taking you to the VE. We need to know how they did what they did.” Fjorynn said.
Mike saw himself pale.
“I – no!” he had considered something like this. “You can’t do that! It violates GalCore treaties. I know your men wouldn’t risk abducting a Raumen citizen. It’s too dangerous.”
“It is.” Fjorynn replied.
“I know what you’re going to say! That I’m not a Raumen citizen! That’s not true. I still have rights. I was born with certain rights.”
“A facade.”
“It’s not!”
“You saw the surveillance equipment on that planet.” Fjorynn muttered. “Even your real rights are a joke.”
“I still have rights!” he repeated. “You can’t take me away!”
“Michael does. You don’t.” Fjorynn said.
“What are you talking about?”
Fjorynn recalled a data file from his neurovision. It was a recording of him digging up the body.
“No…” Michael gasped.
“A biomechanoid android with the ability to omnihack. I tested your blood. Reverse engineering you will net limitless opportunity.” Fjorynn snarled.
“They killed me… replaced me…” Mike stared at the genetic information that Fjorynn had superimposed on his neurovision.
“Zemorian R and D had created that little scenario to field-test you. But they hadn’t expected you to realize what was going on, not until it was too late. I was sent to confirm our suspicions and then acquire you.”
“I—“ Mike’s instincts told him it was the truth. He collapsed against a bulkhead, resting his head in his hands.
“You did well. You were smarter than any other Raumen there. You saw through their plan. You realized what was going on well before it was too late.”
“How is it not too late for me?” Mike asked.
“Oh that’s not what I meant.” the Vorchan said, sharpening his tail against the bulkhead. ”It was only them you managed to outsmart in time!”