Mistrunner 2 - Chapter 25 - Biloxi

I’m surrounded by incompetent people. One thing after another, everything has gone wrong since the moment I took over the Specters. Sometimes, I wonder why anyone ever bothers to be in charge.

Nora Lancaster

I sat on my hoverbike, one foot on the ground as I studied the town in the distance. It had some of the trappings of Nova, especially when it came to the atmosphere. It lacked the lewd holographic displays, but it was still bedecked in neon lighting, a feature that was even more prominent in the waning light of dusk. However, there were also clear signs of it being a frontier city. While some of the buildings were made of the same concrete, steel, and glass that I had grown accustomed to in Nova, there were plenty that had been constructed from wood as well. In addition, there were some holdovers from the pre-Initialization era, looking entirely out of place amidst the newer structures.

But more incongruous than those aged buildings were the ships moored right off the coast.  Part of that incongruity was the fact that the only ships I’d ever seen had been back in Bayou La Batre; those had been created for a specific purpose, and they’d born the characteristics of working toward that goal. With long arms, copious netting, and patched hulls, they had been working vessels. The ones off the coast of Biloxi were different in almost every way.

For one, they were much larger, resembling buildings themselves. The closest one was at least two-hundred yards long, and its first deck soared almost a hundred feet from the surface of the water below. One deck after another rose from there, making it look like the slightest wind would see it tipping over to spill its inhabitants into the sea.

And there were plenty of those, too. Some of the people scurried across the deck, clearly on one task or another, but plenty of others – the bulk, in fact – were mired in leisure. Wearing high-necked suits that were ill-suited to the weather, they sipped amber liquid from fluted glasses and dined on tiny hors d’oeurves. With Observation active, I could just make out their smug, smiling faces as well as the haughty sneers they directed at the white-clad workers.

That first ship wasn’t the only one, either. There were almost a dozen of them lined up along the coast. Judging by how little they moved, I could surmise that they’d been affixed to the seabed in some manner, though I couldn’t quite understand the reasoning behind doing that. However, it didn’t take me long to come to the same conclusion I’d discovered when confronted by the excesses of the rich: they did it because they could.

A half mile from the coast, I saw the telltale blue shimmer of a Mist shield, telling me that the area was at least nominally protected from the vicious marine life. Even as the sun set, I continued my study of Biloxi, and eventually, my gaze settled on a set of scaffolding suspended over a few square miles of the ocean. It was likewise protected by a mana shield, but, judging by how bright the Mist shield was, I surmised that it was far more potent than the one that protected the ships.

As night fell, the scaffolding lit up, revealing the sight of hundreds of people scurrying along the latticework. Some of them wore huge, yellow exo-suits as they hauled on ropes that descended into the sea. Eventually, I saw the fruits of their labor in a huge basket full of some red, leafy substance, which a few laborers quickly hauled to the edge of the latticework where they loaded it into a flat-bottomed barge.

That, I knew, was the whole reason Biloxi existed. My contact, Mia Salvatore, had told me that the kelp was crucial to Blue Epoch’s bioengineered enhancement supplements. She’d also provided a long and boring explanation about about what role it played, but I’d never cared about that kind of thing. All that mattered was that I knew it was incredibly important – enough so that any interruption in the supply would have far reaching and serious consequences.

Which was precisely why I was there.

Calvin Kane was the man who’d been put in charge of the operation, and if he failed to deliver in any way, not only would he suffer serious repercussions but his mother, who’d gotten him the job in the first place, would also bear the ultimate shame of costing the company time and money.

It was one of those things that made so little sense to me. These affluent people, who’d been given everything in life, never understood that, to the masters they served, they were no different than the men and women who worked the Garden’s silos or Algiers’ factories. They were only important inasmuch as they provided value to the company. The moment that value was compromised, they became expendable. It was an impersonal, cruel way of treating people, and most of Nova’s de factor aristocracy failed to see that, in that respect, they were no different from those they considered their inferiors.

Everyone who was part of the system was subject to its harsh reality. Even the ones at the top were incapable of escaping that simple fact.

Night fell as I continued to study Biloxi, and I saw that it had a significant nightlife. The town itself was home to enough bars, clubs, and brothels to rival anywhere in Nova City, save for Bourbon Street itself. Sure, it was all stratified by perceived class, with the workers having their own establishments to patronize; the buttoned-up elites did too, and the two didn’t intermingle. Finally, I saw a serious security presence, which boded well for my plan for entry.

I remained there for hours more until I was satisfied that I’d seen what the town had to offer. Certainly, I didn’t know everything. But my reconnaissance as well as the research I’d done before leaving Nova had given me a decent overview of what to expect. Now, I just needed to wait for the right moment before I could head into the town, find my mark, and execute my plan.

With that in mind, I turned around and retreated a few more miles to an abandoned building I’d marked along the way. Dismissing the hoverbike, I ranged through the surrounding area until I felt sure that it was free of any predators, then headed inside the building. It had once been a store of some sort, with covered fueling stations in front, but it was long since abandoned. The interior of the building was empty, save for some overturned shelves and a few scattered plastic bottles. Vegetation grew out from the windows, covering half the floor, and I found a few bones and piles of dried excrement that suggested that the building had once been the home to some sort of animal. It was long abandoned, though.

Besides, I didn’t intend to just camp out in the open. Instead, I hopped over a counter and headed into the back of the building where I found the remains of an old walk-in freezer. The door was still capable of closing, so I hoped it would be safe for the night. Once I’d gotten inside, I shut the door behind me. Grabbing a Mist lamp from my storage, I looked around; the interior of the freezer was as I’d expected. Rotten wooden crates decorated metal shelving, but the former contents had long since surrendered to the passage of time.

I was thankful for that, because if it hadn’t already rotted away completely, the smell would likely have made the place uninhabitable, even for a single night. Though I’d slept in worse.

Whatever the case, I was thankful that I didn’t have to make that call, and once I was certain that the area was secure, I allowed myself to relax. After eating a ration bar and once again lamenting the lack of decent food, I inspected my wounds. Most of them had already scabbed over, and due to my Regeneration, coupled with my high constitution attribute, I knew they’d be completely healed by morning.

That was a relief. I knew I could cover them up with Mimic, but the last thing I wanted was to start a new mission already wounded. My plan didn’t involve much in the way of fighting, but given my history, I didn’t discount the possibility that things would end in battle. So, I needed to be at my best.

I spent the next few hours doing some calisthenics meant to help me maintain the gains I’d made over the last few weeks. It also served to loosen my muscles, which provided some relief. Traveling through the wilderness, especially after a fight like I’d experienced beneath the platform, was tense work, and I needed to stretch out.

After that, I spent a further couple of hours working on my Ghosts. I’d finished a few new ones of late, but they weren’t perfect. So, I tinkered with them, trying to eliminate any weaknesses. I loved writing Ghosts, but editing them was the height of tedium. However, it was a necessary part of the process that I had little choice but to embrace. The alternative was to arm myself with buggy weapons that only sometimes did what they were supposed to do. And given my penchant for life-or-death situations, that just wasn’t acceptable.

Finally, I found a corner of the refrigerator, curled up with a pillow and blanket I’d bought in Nova, and went to sleep. That night was blessedly dreamless, and I awoke the next morning to the internal sound of my HUD’s alarm going off. With a mental flick, I turned it off and groaned as I pushed myself to my feet.

After taking some time to dress myself in one of the Banshee uniforms I’d looted back in Mobile, I activated Mimic to subtly change my features to those belonging to one of the Enforcers who’d been one of my first victims after the city’s fall. The woman had possessed a build similar to mine, and her skin color was only a shade or two lighter. However, her features were completely different, with thin lips, almond-shaped eyes, and a perky, upturned nose. Objectively speaking, she was a very pretty woman, though when I’d used her visage back in Nova, I’d discovered that I vastly preferred my own face.

I also took a few minutes to use my auto-styler to straighten my hair. I hated how rough it was on my hair almost as much as I hated how it felt – like I was discarding some piece integral to who I was. It was silly, and I often complained about my wild hair, but it had become a part of how I saw myself. But straightening it was necessary. Mimic was a strong ability, but it worked best when I made some effort to ease the transition. Trying to rely on the ability when my hair was so different from the original’s would result in similar problems to if I tried to adopt the look of someone who was a lot bigger or smaller in stature. It would work, but the results wouldn’t be nearly as seamless as they could’ve been.

Once all of that was done, I retrieved a collapsible mirror from my storage, unfolded it, and inspected the results. The person staring back at me was unrecognizable from my usual reflection. She had features similar to Kimiko’s, but perfected by fortunate genetics, surgery, or some aspect of Mist. Either way, the woman whose face I’d stolen was a real knockout, which was a necessary facet of my plan.

After making sure that my disguise was as perfect as I could manage, I left the freezer and headed outside, where I summoned my hoverbike. A moment later, I’d mounted up and was on my way back to Biloxi. The morning air hung heavy with humidity, and dense fog blanketed the area. However, with Observation, it was no real detriment to my passage, and I made good time on my way to the town I’d spent hours observing the day before.

Soon, it came into sight, still gleaming with neon lights. I didn’t slow until I found my way to the front gate. It was constructed similarly to the gates of Nova City in that it was manned by a host of armed and armored Operators. They wore uniforms, but they weren’t clad in the black-and-white of Enforcers. Instead, their clothing was dark blue with gold accents – the colors of Blue Epoch. I slowed to a stop and dismounted my hoverbike, which was in its original, undisguised appearance. I needed it to sell the guards on my importance.

I strode confidently forward, homing in on someone that looked important. He was a tall man, with heavy shoulders, a cybernetic hand, and a hook-nosed face. One of his eyes had also been replaced, and it gleamed red in the morning sun. He had a pistol at his hip and, like the other guards, a rifle clutched across his chest. As I stopped in front of him, I threw one of my hips out wide and rested a hand on Ferdinand II’s grip – a subtle hint that I had no issues with forcing my way in, if necessary.

Someone nearby whispered “Banshee”, only audible because of Observation.

“Enforcer,” said the man before me, his voice completely incongruent with his brutish appearance. I’d expected a deep basso sound, but instead, I got something better categorized as a tenor. “What brings you to Biloxi?”

“Business,” I said, ignoring the oddity of his voice. “Is there an issue?”

“I…uh…I need to see some I.D.,” he said. I saw the white of his knuckles as he gave his rifle a death grip. Tiny beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead as well, though that could’ve been due to the humidity. I suspected he was just nervous.

I narrowed my eyes as if considering punishing him for his impudence. But then, I gave him a warm smile. “Of course you do,” I said. Then, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing a symbol that had been tattooed on my inner wrist. The guard retrieved a pistol-shaped device that reminded me of a med-hypo from his belt, then pointed it at the tattoo. A moment later, a tiny web of light swept over it. His eyes took on that glassy appearance that told me he was looking at something on his HUD. “Everything in order?”

A second later, he shook his head, saying, “Yes, ma’am. Everything’s fine. How long will you be staying in Biloxi.”

I flashed him another smile before saying, “Until the job’s done. You know how it is.”

He gave me a nervous grin of his own, then nodded. “Yeah. Ain’t that the truth,” he said. “Alright, head on in. Don’t forget to check out when you leave.”

“Will do.”

With my entry assured, I turned my back on him and re-mounted my hover bike. A second later, I accelerated past him and into Biloxi. All the while, my appreciation for Gunther grew; the tattoo had come from him, and though it was temporary, he’d claimed that it was completely foolproof in a town like Biloxi. It’d be a different story in Nova City, where they’d have access to Enforcer records, but out on the frontier, security was a good deal lighter. It also helped that Biloxi wasn’t an Enforcer outpost. Rather, the Operators were all private security, and so, they didn’t have the technology to pierce through the ruse.

With that, the first step was complete. I was in. But as I’d learned back in Bayou La Batre, getting in was the easy part. Actually accomplishing the mission was where things got tricky. However, I believed that I had learned quite a few lessons since that disastrous mission. I was a different person, and, what’s more, I had far more information on my side. Back then, I’d gone in mostly blind, but now, I knew the lay of the land, exactly what I needed to do to accomplish my goal, and a good plan for how I would go about doing just that.

Still, I knew that the moment I grew complacent, the second I thought I was prepared – that was when something unexpected would rear its ugly head and knock me for a loop. So, I kept my head on a swivel as I headed toward my destination on the edge of the water.

The hotel was very different from my previous experiences with that sort of thing. It didn’t have the rustic charm of somewhere like the Dewdrop Inn, and it certainly was a good deal nicer – and more importantly, cleaner – than the El Paradiso back in Algiers. Coming in at six stories of gleaming glass and steel, the Calgary Hotel would have looked completely at home somewhere like Lakeview. It had the same general aesthetic, and what’s more, the clientele were similarly polished, stylish, and carried themselves with that same air of superiority I’d seen in Nova’s more affluent districts.

However, even they gave an inward cringe at seeing a Banshee in their midst.

It seemed that even amongst the rich, the Banshees were feared. That suited me just fine, because it kept them from looking at me too closely as I pulled to a stop and stored my hover bike away. I knew it would create a bit of a stir, but that was the point. Anyone who possessed such a vehicle would be instantly categorized as someone important, which was part of my disguise.

With that, I strode up the handful of steps and through the front door of the Calgary. No one tried to stop me. No one dared impede a Banshee. It was a nice change of pace from my experiences in Nova City, where my every move was watched, weighed, and followed by curious onlookers, self-styled bandits, or creepy oglers.

A brave doorman stepped forward, asking, “Can I help…”

I swept past him with my head held high. The woman I was pretending to be wouldn’t bother with someone like that. Instead, I walked straight to the front desk, which was made from soulless wood trimmed in bright silver. A crest adorned the front, but I paid it no heed. Logos didn’t matter to me nor the woman I was pretending to be.

“I require your best-appointed room,” I said to the stunned clerk. She was a pretty blonde with her hair in a braid.  A similarly attractive man stood nearby. “Now.”

“Uh…”

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

As if coming out of a daze, she shook her head, saying, “N-no. No, ma’am! Right away.”

A few moments later, she was handing over a ring that would act as a key for the duration of my stay. I paid the fee, adding a little extra for the girl, then headed to my room. As I stepped into the elevator which would take me to the penthouse suite, I was elated at how easily everything had come together. No one had stopped me.  Nobody had questioned my identity. They’d all just accepted that I was who I was pretending to be.

It was a good start, but I knew it was only the beginning.