Mistrunner - Chapter 22 - Blackmail

Slavery doesn’t look like people imagine. It’s not a bunch of prisoners walking around with collars around their necks. In reality, the bonds of slavery aren’t physical. Instead, they’re circumstantial. They are societal. They are cultural. Whether it’s a pleasure slave on Bourbon Street, forced to take a skill that shoved them into that role or a miner in the middle of nowhere who, even if he could escape, would have nowhere to go – it’s the circumstances that keep them enslaved. Getting away is easy. True escape is almost impossible.

Jeremiah Braddock III

Whether it was luck, skill, or happenstance, I managed to make it back to my room without causing too much of a fuss. Sure, people saw all the blood, and I’m sure they were horrified. But in our world, such a state was barely even worth noting. In Nova City, it wouldn’t have even warranted a second glance. Mobile was better, but only just. It was probably for the best; people who noticed such things had a habit of getting in the way of people far more powerful than them. That wouldn’t end well for anybody.

Stripping out of my fatigues, I threw them into a laundry basket and quickly hopped into the shower where I gave myself a good scrubbing. Apparently, dried blood – especially in the amounts that covered me – is surprisingly resistant to cleaning, so it took me a while to get completely clean. By the time I finished, my skin felt raw enough that I felt it even through my Pain Resistance.

Once I was clean, I dried off and inspected myself in the mirror. One thing I’d learned early on in my training was that, with my pain suppressed, I could pick up injuries and not even realize it. So, I’d been forced to make a habit of giving myself a good once over every time I took a shower. Fortunately, I hadn’t picked up anything more serious than a bruise during my extracurricular excursion. It wasn’t always like that, though. More than once, I’d found cuts and gashes that had required stitches.

Pain Resistance was useful. I couldn’t deny that. But it also came with its own downsides, and I suspected that part of my training was meant to teach me how to deal with those.

With a sigh, I left the bathroom and grabbed a pair of underwear and a ripped but incredibly comfortable tee-shirt from the chest where I kept most of my clothes. After dressing, I threw myself into my bed and started in on all the data I’d pilfered from the Tigers’ security terminal. Most of it was useless – just never-ending security footage – but I was surprised to find that whoever set the system up was at least organized enough to keep a record of all the members. I quickly found Jack’s file and started studying it.

Apparently, he was a Tier-4, which was rare on the frontier, and so, he’d quickly risen in the ranks. His uncommon power and quick rise had gone to his head, and there had been plenty of incidents with his peers and subordinates. It was enough that the gang’s leadership had begun to question whether or not they wanted to keep him around.

As a result, he was often sent out into the wilderness to protect the gang’s interests. In addition to guarding caravans to other, similar towns, they also had a few farms nearby that required security. Jack frequently drew those assignments. Not that it did much good; despite his power, he lost convoys and farms at a much higher rate than his peers. It wasn’t damning evidence of malfeasance, but it gave me an avenue to investigate further. But to do so, I’d need to corner him and hack into his interface. Doing so without him figuring it out would be the difficult part.

As I lay there, my mind whirled with different possibilities. Admittedly, there was a big part of me that just wanted to kill him and be done with it. I could disappear his body with little effort, and it would solve the problem well enough. However, if my uncle had taught me anything, it was that actions often had unforeseen consequences. I’d already killed one of the Tigers. If another one went missing, it could start a chain of events I couldn’t predict. At the best of times, they were a volatile group. Adding fuel to that fire was the height of recklessness, and I wanted to be better than that. So, I pushed assassination to the back of my mind, focusing on my other skills.

Briefly, I considered seducing him, like in one of those trashy books I’d recently found in the crochety old man’s bookstore. In the months since my first visit, I’d established myself as one of his best customers. I’d even learned that his name was Reuben. More importantly, I’d gained access to dozens of romance novels, most of which centered on a heroine who used her feminine wiles to solve mysteries or conduct spy missions – usually while seducing some muscle-bound bad boy with a good heart. I knew they were far from good literature, but I didn’t really care.

Whatever the case, I knew I didn’t have the assets to act like one of those books’ protagonists. Jo, with all her curves, might’ve been able to pull it off; Heather definitely could have. But me? I was cuter than pretty, short, and still a little scrawny. Next to someone like Jo? I was practically invisible, and I didn’t hold any illusions about gaining Jack’s attention. Or anyone’s, I suppose, which was kind of a depressing thought that was probably rooted more in my own insecurities than in reality, but anyway – moving on from that uncomfortable bit of introspection!

In the end, I decided that I would spend the next day following him and hope for an opportunity to do something about the situation. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, but it was the best I could hope for, especially with my limited free time. So, I went to sleep with that plan in mind.

The next day, I woke up bright and early – as was my usual, ever since my training began – and quickly took care of my morning routine before getting dressed. Instead of my habitual black fatigues, I chose something far more non-descript. A pair of old jeans, some ratty boots, and a tee-shirt. I even managed to stuff my hair mostly under a hat, which I pulled low enough that my features weren’t readily noticeable. After that, I climbed out the window – I didn’t want anyone to associate this new look with me – and quickly made my way to the Tigers’ compound. Once I’d climbed atop the building across the street, I settled down to watch for Jack’s appearance.

Apparently, none of the Tigers – even the ones who were supposed to be on watch – were early risers, so I had almost a six hour wait before they began to stir. During that time, I occupied myself with various number and logic puzzles and reading the files I’d stolen from the Tigers’ security terminal. The more I studied them, the more I started to notice a pattern. I don’t know if I saw it because I was used to solving puzzles, but the rate at which they lost caravans was far too regular to be pure happenstance. On top of that, there was a pattern to how often their farms were attacked, too. Finally, when either of those things happened, it was never a total loss; rather, the attackers were restrained in their banditry, stealing just enough to make it worth it, but not enough to bring down the full might of the Tigers.

It all fit together far too well for it be random. Something else was at play. So, as I kept studying, I started to put the pieces together, and what I found was – well, not shocking, given what I had seen during my life in Nova City – but it was a little surprising. The attacks, apparently, had only begun after Jack had taken a leadership position, which suggested that he had something to do with it.

But it wasn’t enough for an accusation. I needed more information. To that end, I waited on Jack to make an appearance. Luckily, he rose soon after his fellow Tigers, and I watched as he left the area. He was flanked by a couple of other Tigers – one male and one female. All of them were dressed in the same horrible orange-and-blue, with the two flunkies having mohawks. Jack, as I already knew, had more of a traditional, close-cropped hairstyle, though it was dyed orange.

They turned down the street, and I waited until they were about a hundred yards away before I slipped off the roof of the building and followed. Using every trick I’d learned about [Spycraft], I kept Disguise active. I knew the ability wasn’t very effective yet, but I hoped it would be enough to keep people from noticing too much about me. I was still something of a novice at tailing someone, but I kept hearing my instructor’s voice in my head, reminding me of all the rules he’d given me.

After a few blocks, I turned down an alley and crossed to a parallel street. As I did, I kept my eyes from fixating on my targets, instead keeping watch via my peripheral vision. It was headache inducing, but I managed it – likely because of my comparatively high attributes. Without them, there’s no way I could have kept track of everything.

Slowly, they made their way across the town and to one of the tenements where many of the poorer citizens lived. They weren’t as big as the megabuildings back in Nova City, but they had the same atmosphere. Desperation filled the very air and graffiti decorated the walls as the truly poor went about their day. Some were malnourished. Others were clearly on one drug or another. Shards from broken bottles carpeted the sidewalks, and decrepit neon signs advertised one service or another. As I glanced at one that marked a doctor’s office, I suppressed a shiver. As dirty and decrepit as the storefront was, there was no way I would’ve ever gone there unless I had no other choice. Which was probably the case, with most of the people who lived in the area.

Of course, there were also plenty of men and women of ill-repute as well. Some were Mobile’s version of Operators – garishly dressed, usually with visible cybernetics that looked cobbled together from spare parts – but others were clearly sex workers. Men and women alike, dressed in little more than a few colorful scraps, offered their services to the passersby. And given that it was just past midday, they were far from the area’s best or brightest. I didn’t even want to think about the life path that would lead someone to that destination.

I had nothing against sex workers, so long as they were the ones who chose that life. However, anyone who’d lived in Nova City for more than a few years knew that most of the men and women who made their livings on Bourbon Street were there out of either necessity or because someone had forced them into it, usually by nefarious means. I couldn’t believe that these sex workers were in any better of a situation.

But I wasn’t there to right societal wrongs, so I did my best to ignore them. Because of my Disguiseability, they hardly even noticed me. Thankfully. As much as I might empathize with their plight, I didn’t want to endure their calls.

After a few more minutes, Jack and his companions stopped in front of one of the better-looking buildings. There, he exchanged a few words with his friends before heading inside. The two subordinate Tigers positioned themselves at the door, where they leaned against the wall and fingered the weapons holstered at their wastes. Few people in Mobile were fortunate enough to have Arsenal Implants, and even those who did had inferior versions. Once again, I counted myself lucky that my uncle had seemingly endless funds with which to prop up my development.

My first instinct was to simply follow behind him, trusting that my ability would see me through. The two mooks didn’t look all that attentive, and I didn’t really stand out. But something inside me didn’t want to trust my ability that much, so I waited a couple of minutes before slipping down the alley on the side of the building. There, I was confronted with a pair of toothless homeless men, neither of which were wearing any clothes at all. Disgusted and a little embarassed, I hurried past them; they didn’t even react to my presence, which suggested that I probably could have gone the easy way. In any case, I quickly made my way to the end of the alley and turned the corner.

The courtyard behind the building was empty, so I wasted no time in finding an open window on the second floor and climbing through it. The building was full of handholds, so it wasn’t even a difficult ascent, and I soon found myself inside the tenement.

But then I recognized an issue.

I’d lost Jack. The building was six stories tall, and each floor probably held a dozen tiny apartments. If I had to go door-to-door, there was no way I’d find him before he finished whatever business he had in the building. So, using the same strategy from the night before, I hurried toward the steps and descended to the first floor. There, I swept the building until I found the maintenance office. Luckily, it was unmanned, and the building’s owner had installed a security terminal to watch things while they were away. I wasted no time before jacking into the terminal via my Mistwalking ability and scanning the security feeds to track Jack to an apartment on the fourth floor. It belonged to a woman named Marissa Lopez, who was one of the few residents in the building who was completely paid up on her rent.

With a destination in mind, I found my way toward the fourth floor, passing a few addicts who’d passed out on the stairs. I stepped around them lightly, hoping that my passage would go entirely unnoticed. Finally, I reached my destination and listened at the door to Marissa Lopez’s apartment.  I blushed a bit when I heard the distinctive grunts and moans that told me precisely what was going on on the other side of that door.

It didn’t last much longer before a particularly loud grunt announced that Jack, at least, had reached completion. I continued to listen for a few more moments, and about a minute later, I was rewarded with the sound of a woman’s voice.

“Did you bring the stuff?” she asked, her voice lightly accented and a little slurred.

“You know I did, baby,” came Jack’s voice. I had yet to hear it, but the sneering tone definitely fit the smug face I’d seen earlier. “Hold on. We’ll do it together.”

She mumbled something in reply, and I heard a sharp slap, followed by a sniffle and an apology. Apparently, Jack didn’t have any qualms about hitting his lover, which made me dislike him even more, if that was possible. Once again, I considered just busting in and killing him. I could deal with the consequences, couldn’t I?

But I restrained myself. I’d decided not to drop any more bodies, and I was going to stick with that. Even if every fiber of my being screamed at me to put the detestable man down.

I stood there for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed. It was clear that the two people had just taken some sort of drug, so it was possible that they were, even now, passed out. But if they’d taken pixie dust, the opposite would be true. The pink powder was a stimulant, after all. If I burst in, and they were high on dust, I’d probably have a fight on my hands.

No – I needed more information, but I had no idea how to get it.

Stumped, I looked around until, after a few more minutes, my eyes settled on the door itself. Or rather, on the tiny camera that served as a peep hole. Usually, those were one-way, but if whoever had built the tenement had been cheap, there was a chance they’d used a less expensive version. With a little tweak, I could see inside the apartment.

Maybe.

I was flying a little blind, and I was making a lot of assumptions. But I thought my plan was decent. So, I activated my Misthackability and targeted the tiny camera. A second later, a prompt flashed across my HUD:

Intiate Misthack? [Yes] or [No]

I chose the former and completed a childishly easy puzzle. It wasn’t exactly 1-2-3-4, but it wasn’t that far off, either. In any case, it elicited another message:

Misthack Successful. Options:

· Reboot System

· Hijack System

· Disable System

I chose the middle option, and a square video feed settled into the right side of my HUD. It only took up about a quarter of my vision, and it looked a little distorted due to the curvature of the camera’s lens. Still, I could see clearly enough to determine that Jack and his lover were both unconscious – or close enough that it didn’t matter.

That made up my mind, and without further hesitation, I took control of the door via another Misthack and slid it open. Stepping inside, I was grateful to see that neither Marissa nor Jack had moved.

Now for the hard part.

I knew it was possible, based on everything I’d been taught, but I’d yet to try to Mistwalk into someone else’s interface. At some point, I expected that I’d be able to do it remotely, but I was a long way from that. After watching the two naked and unconscious people for a few minutes, I was satisfied that nothing I could do would wake them up. So, kneeling beside Jack – and pointedly ignoring his nudity – I flipped open the NuSkin tab on my wrist and unwound the cord that would allow me to jack into his system. Then, I felt on the side of his neck for the port that I knew would be there, and when I found a rough patch of the same artificial skin, I peeled it back and inserted my cord.

Immediately, a new message flashed across my HUD:

Personal Interface (Jack Ryder). Presence Detected. Defenses Found. Initiate Mistwalk? [Yes] or [No]

I selected the former, expecting something similar to the security terminal into which I’d Mistwalked the day before. However, what I found was far more elaborate. There were seventeen nodes, each with their own set of logic and number puzzles. When I dove into the first, I was surprised to find that they stretched me to the limits of my abilities, and it took me almost ten minutes to clear the first node. The second went more quickly, but as I progressed from one node to the next, my mind became overtaxed, and my concentration began to waver. Sweat poured down my face, and a headache threatened to split my mind in two. But I persisted, long after the pain overwhelmed my resistances. Gritting my teeth, I cleared one node after another until, finally, the last of the defenses fell, and Jack’s entire interface was opened to me.

I gasped at the access.

I could see everything. His skills. His cyberware. I could even tell precisely how close he’d come to overdosing. More importantly, underlying his conscious mind was his interface’s short-term memory. I plunged into it, and because I knew the appropriate dates, it didn’t take me long to find out precisely how Jack had betrayed both the Tigers and the town. After downloading the information, I sent a jolt through his cyberware – not enough to hurt him…much, but just enough to jar him awake. It worked, and when he opened his eyes, he did so to the sight of Ferdinand II’s barrel only inches away from his face.

“Now, Jack,” I said in the calmest voice I could manage. “You have been a very bad boy.”

“Who are you? What do you –”

I reached back and slammed the butt of my gun into his forehead. I didn’t use all my strength, but it was satisfying nonetheless. And it shut him up, which was the point. Mostly. Causing him a good deal of pain was just a side benefit.

“No talking,” I said. “Just listen. You’ve been selling secrets, haven’t you? And not just to the bandits and raiders around here, either. You’ve been in touch with people in Nova City, too. And Atlanta. Now, I don’t particularly care about all of that, but what I do care about is you leaving Jo alone.”

“J-jo?”

“Pretty girl. Curves. Her family runs an inn? You know who she is,” I said. “So, here’s the deal. You leave her alone – and I mean completely alone; no protection money, no unwanted advances, nothing. She doesn’t ever need to see you or the Tigers again. And if you make that happen, I’ll keep all this information to myself, yeah? Sound good?”

“Uh…”

I hit him again. Not because he hesitated. Just because I thought he deserved it.

“Need an answer pretty quick, here,” I stated. “And remember – I could have fried you just now. I can get to you anywhere. So, if you refuse…well, I might just have to make other arrangements. Got me?”

“O-okay!” he said, raising his hands. “Okay. I’ll…I’ll leave her alone.”

“And no more selling secrets to Nova or Atlanta,” I added. “I don’t care about the bandits.”

He quickly agreed, and I hit him again. Man, it felt good. Maybe I needed to work on that. Either way, we came to an agreement, and I left the way I’d come, feeling as if I’d really accomplished something. And I still had most of the day left to relax, so it was a pretty good day, as far as I was concerned.