Mistrunner - Chapter 4 - The Great Lie

We thought we were at war, and we mistakenly believed we had a chance. Little did we know that we’d already lost before the first shot had even been fired. Earth was never meant to win. The best we could do was survive.

Jeremiah Braddock III

My uncle stepped away from the bodies, and I stared at the pool of their mingled blood in horror. Death in Nova City was not an uncommon sight. Even at the tender age of fifteen, I’d seen my fair share of dead bodies – my father’s included in that number. Some were old and rotting in some out of the way nook or cranny where the utility drones weren’t programmed to look. Others were fresh, victims of the ubiquitous violence that seemed so commonplace in the city. But I’d never seen anyone executed so casually, and the event had hit me like a bag of bricks.

Nora reached out to knuckle my chin and push my mouth closed. “Not your fault,” she said, the words coming out in a grunt. She was a woman of few words. “They knew better. They made their choices.”

I shook my head, looking way. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to wipe them as my thoughts dwelled on my actions. When I’d set out to steal the boots, it had felt like an adventure. Like a game. But now? A handful of people were dead, and it was all my fault. My uncle always talked about actions and consequences, but until that moment, I’d never really understood. Now, though, I’d seen first-hand the costs of acting without considering how it might affect other, innocent people.

Not that I considered Turk and his mooks to be innocent. Likely, they’d earned their deaths a hundred times over. But with me, they’d just been doing a job, and one they never could have expected to cost them their lives. It was a depressing end to equally depressing existences.

As I stood at the edge of the parking structure, I saw Nova City in all its glory. The sun had set, but the city had plenty of artificial sources of light. Not only were there holographic displays for every business, but there were enough streetlights that the city never really slept. Even in the middle of the night, traffic would barely wane. Such was life in Nova City. Everyone scurrying around, trying to make the best of a bad situation. The city wasn’t fair. I had discovered that when I was orphaned, and for no other reason than because my father had made a few bad decisions. It was kill or be killed, and I intended to survive.

I set my jaw, wiped the tears flowing down my cheeks, and turned back to Nora. By then, she’d already begun to bundle the bodies into a black sack, which she’d use to carry the corpses away. They’d eventually end up in the delta, forgotten by anyone that mattered.

“Do you need help?” I asked, squaring my shoulders. It was my mess, and it only made sense that I would help clean it up.

The muscular woman gave a harsh chuckle before saying, “Naw. I got this, little girl. Your uncle’s expecting you.”

It was only then that I realized that Jeremiah had disappeared from the parking structure. I knew he’d found his way to the penthouse that he called his home just as I knew that I’d better not tarry. He would put up with a lot – like me running away for a few months – but there were lines I just didn’t want to cross. If he told me he wanted me to do something, I’d better do it, else there would be consequences. And his punishments usually involved me spending weeks up to my waist in the foul-smelling muck that accumulated in the water filtration system beneath his building. Ostensibly, he’d send me down there to help clean, but I knew that it was just meant to be unpleasant. How the actual workers stood it, I’d never know. Whatever the case, I wasn’t going to keep him waiting.

Nodding at Nora, who had already gathered two of the corpses, I hurried across the parking structure and past a couple of vehicles. It didn’t take me long to find my way to the elevator which would take me to the top floor. I stepped inside, pulling the chain-link door closed behind me. Then, I slapped my hand on the control pad, saying, “Ninety-third floor.”

“Identity confirmed,” came a robotic voice. Then, the elevator shot up, rattling and clanging in all the wrong ways. Every time I used the elevator, I thought I was on the verge of plummeting to my death. I knew it was kept in good repair, and that the sounds were meant to unnerve intruders and distract from the high-tech security system, but that didn’t mean I was comfortable with it. I leaned against the wall, sighing as I glanced up at the twin domes in the ceiling. If the wrong person found themselves in the elevator, a pair of auto-turrets would descend and rip them to shreds. I’d seen the results, if only from a distance, and even the memory was enough to send a shiver up my spine.

Finally, the elevator slowed to a stop, and I saw the outer doors slide open to reveal my uncle’s domain. It was both familiar and disconcerting, walking into the lobby. Calling it a penthouse was a bit of a misnomer, given that his personal living quarters only took up a very small portion of the floor. Instead, with how huge the megabuilding was, a single floor was enough to house his entire organization. Row upon row of domiciles, a massive conference room, a market with various shops, and lodgings for his trusted lieutenants were only the beginning, and the floor would’ve been better characterized as a small village. But then again, the megabuilding was home to at least a quarter of a million people, so that was really only a drop in the bucket.

Still, everything about the place screamed low-cost housing. The rooms were almost all exactly the same size, and without any real adornment. The ceilings were too low, the layout was uninspired, and the amenities were nearly nonexistent. Sure, individuals had the latest entertainment options, and there was even a brothel and a couple of bars. But everything was a little too tacky, with a bit too much gold, and far too many animal prints. Jeremiah called his people “ghetto rich,” and I couldn’t really argue with that assessment. Refined taste was the prerogative of the truly wealthy, not a bunch of Operators who courted death every time they left the building.

After traversing the floor’s depressing corridors, I entered the apartment, closing the door behind me. Looking around, my shoulders slumped as I felt the tension I’d felt for the past couple of hours melt away. I was finally home. Even if I often rankled at my uncle’s rules, I’d lived with him for years. He’d treated me well, and he had tried to make me feel welcome. It had worked, too.

“Go take a shower,” came his unmistakably gravelly voice. I flinched. I hadn’t even seen him in the doorway. “You stink. When you get done, come into the living room. There’s a conversation we should have had months ago.”

“Is it about my Nexus Implant?” I asked.

He grunted, “Take a shower.”

Then, without another word, he strode off toward the communal area where he often met with his most trusted subordinates. Knowing I wouldn’t get anything else out of him, I went in the other direction. Plus, now that I was home, I’d become well aware that he was probably being a bit generous by only saying that I stunk. In my defense, I’d been living in a glorified drainage pipe for the past couple of months. Down there, cleanliness wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.

In a few seconds, I found my way to my bedroom, and when I passed through the door, I felt myself relax even more. Nothing had changed. My discarded clothes still decorated the floor, various posters depicting my favorite bands were affixed to the wall, and a sizable bed dominated the relatively small room. The furnishings weren’t enough to disguise the utilitarian concrete walls, but they definitely did some heavy lifting when it came to making it feel like my personal space. Resisting the urge to collapse onto the bed and wrap myself in the soft blankets, I made my way to the connected bathroom.

After stripping down, I looked at my dirty and stained clothing. Before I’d left – or run away, I guess – I’d chosen not to wear my best clothes. Even then, I had known I would be back. I had also known that being out on my own wouldn’t be kind to my wardrobe. So, I’d chosen all my oldest stuff – a good decision, because everything was ruined. I quickly threw them into the trash chute that would lead to the incinerator far below and stepped into the shower.

It was a while before I was satisfied with my cleanliness. I was far dirtier than even I suspected, and there was plenty of grime in all the wrong sorts of places. Eventually, I managed the small feat of cleaning myself before stepping out of the shower. I dried off, then wiped my hand across the mirror. The reflection I saw was familiar, but I could see that my foray into independence had changed me.

For one, I was skinnier than I’d been in years. On the streets, I’d had to claw and scrape for every meal, and that showed. My ribs were clearly visible, my cheeks were hollow, and my eyes were sunken into their sockets. Even so, I knew that I was, at the very least, pretty. I’d gotten that from my mother, I think. I’d only seen a few pictures of her, but even those were enough to tell me that she’d been a beautiful woman.

Predictably, the biggest eyesore was my hair. I didn’t hate it – not really. Jeremiah always told me to be proud of it, that it was part of my racial heritage, but I only saw it as a pain in the butt. Other girls could just run a comb through their silky hair, and they were fine. But me? I had to spend hours just to make it presentable.

Almost in protest, I left it wild. Anyone who didn’t like it could go to hell.

After I brushed my teeth, I went back into my bedroom and got dressed. I chose a soft pair of pajama pants decorated with pink unicorns – my obsession with the mythical creatures was a holdover from my youth – and a tee-shirt emblazoned with the logo of my favorite band – Leviathan. I’d gotten it at an underground show, and it was probably my favorite possession. Leaving it behind when I ran away had been one of the hardest things I’d had to do.

Once I was dressed, I gave in and tied my hair back into a giant poof, then padded down the hall and into the living room, where my uncle was waiting patiently. Regrettably, he wasn’t alone.

“Ohmigawd!” exclaimed Heather, my uncle’s blonde bimbo of a partner. She was tall and slim, and so top-heavy that she looked like she would topple over at the slightest breeze. And at that moment, she was clamoring toward me, arms outstretched. Before I knew it, she’d wrapped them around me, pressing my face into her genetically modified chest. Thankfully, it ended quickly, and she held me at arm’s length, saying, “I’ve been worried out of my mind, young lady! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there for a pretty, young girl like you? You’re lucky someone didn’t pick you up and force you to pick up a pleasure skill!”

“Ugh,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “I know how to avoid people like that. And nobody can force you to take skills, anyway. Those are choices.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No. You’re right. But they can make it the easiest choice you can make,” she said, frowning. Her sudden change of expression was a good reminder that no one in Nova City had it easy. Clearly, she’d seen some terrible things, and I briefly regretted my insensitive comment. “Anyway, what’s important is that you’re safe.”

“Let her breathe, Heather,” Jeremiah said.

Heather cut her eyes at him, then made a scene of making sure I was okay. Only then did she back off, saying, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

When she’d left the room, I took a moment to look around. The communal area wasn’t much different than those I’d passed along the way to my uncle’s living quarters. The furniture was second-hand, but it was well-made and comfortable, and any decorations were, to my untrained eye, gaudy and a little tacky. That was Heather’s influence, because left to his own devices, my uncle would have lived in a bare, cement room not much better than a jail cell.

There was only one feature that had been there ever since I’d moved in. On one wall was a gun. A rifle, in fact. But it wasn’t just any firearm. Instead, it was one of the most powerful sniper rifles from before the Initialization – a Barrett M82A1 50 BMG. I had no idea how it would stack up to the more modern nanotech guns, but it certainly looked deadly. That might have been due to me knowing its history, though. Everyone in Nova City – at least in the Garden – had heard about my uncle’s exploits with that gun.

“Sit,” he said. “It’s story time.”

“Uh…okay.”

I sat on the overstuffed couch across from him and curled my bare feet under me. Once I was settled in, he began, “I know you know some of this, but don’t interrupt. It’s going to be difficult enough to get through this as it is.”

“O-okay. Sure.” He fixed me with a withering stare, and I realized I’d just done precisely what he’d asked me not to do. “Sorry. No more talking from me. Not a word.”

He sighed. “You’re so much like your mother,” he muttered, shaking his head. After a second, he said, “Before the Initialization, I was a soldier. You know that, right?”

I nodded, and he jerked his head toward the gun on the wall. “That was my weapon,” he said. “I was a sniper, and I was good at it, too. Twenty-three confirmed kills, which was a lot before things went to shit.”

That didn’t seem like so many to me. I knew of at least three Operators whose kill counts were triple that. But I didn’t say anything. Instead, I continued to listen as my uncle went on, describing his life before the Initialization. I knew most of it. Back then, the world was different. It was freer. There was no mist-tech, and everything was more civilized and a good deal safer.

“I got hurt,” he said. “Broke my back. I was lucky that I wasn’t paralyzed. But my days in the army were done. So, I went home, and I wallowed in my own depression. I’d have probably stayed there, too, if it wasn’t for Helena. She was another veteran, and she’d started this outreach program for underprivileged kids.”

He sighed. “I thought I was in love with her for the longest time,” he stated. “She’s gone now, though.” After a short pause, he added, “Everyone is.”

Jeremiah was silent for a long moment, and I could only guess what was going through his mind. I didn’t dare break the silence, though.  My uncle, for all he cared about me, wasn’t exactly an open book. He played his cards close to his chest, and he almost never talked about his past. It was one of those persistent mysteries that I’d long accepted as unsolvable. And now, it looked like I was going to get the whole story; I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up.

“I decided to help out,” he said. “I’d spent a lot of time surviving in the wilderness. Even before the army, I was always in the woods. Hunting. Fishing. Having BB-gun fights with my friends.”

“What about the monsters?” I asked. Nobody left Nova City. It was too unsafe. Even with my limited view in the drainage tunnels, I’d seen hulking monsters wading through the delta. Going out there was suicide.

He chuckled. “No monsters back then,” he said. “We had gators and such, but it wasn’t bad. Anyway, I took a group of kids up to a state park. It was a few hours away from where I lived, and most of these kids had never really been out of the city. It was supposed to help them reconnect with nature.

“How was I supposed to know that the Initialization would happen while we were out there? In the space of a couple of hours, everything changed,” he said. “None of us knew what was going on. All I knew was that the animals were acting rabid, attacking without any provocation, and I had seventeen kids with me. And Helena.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I could hear the pain in his voice, so I could infer what had happened to these kids. Even ninety years after the Initialization, it was obviously still raw. I leaned forward, wavering between eagerness to learn more and dread concerning the inevitable next part of the story.

“We lost three kids in the first two days,” Jeremiah said, his voice cracking as he tried to keep the emotion from his voice. “Two more a couple of days after that. Then, I found a gun store, and thinks got better. With a rifle, I could protect them. I thought. I was…I was wrong. It happened while I was out hunting. We’d been surviving on stuff from a vending machine, and I thought I could go out and find a deer. And I did. I had to range a bit further from our base, but it was going to be worth it.

“When I came back, everything was gone,” he went on. “The store was destroyed. The cars in the parking lot had been flattened. It was destruction on a level I hadn’t seen since the war. And the kids were gone. Helena was gone.”

He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t talk about it,” he mumbled. “I found bits and pieces of her, sliced apart with surgical precision. Someone had done it on purpose. They’d done it for fun. It took me a while to come to that conclusion, but eventually, it seemed like there was no other choice. I sat there for a few hours, not knowing what to do. I wanted to give in. I wanted to give up. Back then, I wasn’t in the best mindset to begin with, and then this? I almost lost it. I almost just ended it, then and there.”

Obviously, he hadn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting across from me telling the story. But I could feel the despair in his voice. After a few seconds, he started up again.

“I don’t know when I saw the tracks,” he said, shaking his head. “They were so obvious. They didn’t even try to hide. And it only took a few minutes of studying the tracks for me to realize that they’d taken some of the kids with them. That, more than anything else, lit a fire under me. I tracked them for miles, and when I finally saw who’d attacked us, I was taken aback.”

He looked me in the eyes. “Aliens,” he said. “Later, I would discover that they were smugglers. They weren’t supposed to be on a newly initialized planet. But where there are rules, there are ways to break them. And these assholes had done just that, setting up a mining operation and manning it with captured humans.”

“W-what did they look like?” I asked. Everyone knew about aliens. Most of our technology had come from them.

“Big and purple,” he said. “But they died just fine after a bullet to the brain. Over the next couple of weeks, I waged a guerrilla war against them, and eventually, I killed them all. I had no idea how lucky I was that they were low-tiered. Otherwise, the hunting rifle I’d found wouldn’t have done a damned thing.

“Not that it mattered,” he said. “The kids were dead.”

I gasped. I’d hoped that he had saved them. “Why? You said they were using them as slaves,” I said. Slavery was illegal in Nova City, but that didn’t really stop it. Half the girls and boys on Bourbon Street were pleasure slaves, and nobody seemed to care.

“Not the kids,” he said. “They were being prepared as sacrifices or subjects for an experiment, as far as I can tell. I don’t know how it worked. All I know is that, after I killed all the aliens, I found a Node.”

Nova City had a Node, and everyone knew that was where people got their Nexus Implants. It also provided access to the Intergalactic Bazaar, which was where humanity had obtained the advanced technology necessary to survive.

“It was a surprise, getting my Nexus Implant,” he said, rubbing his neck. “Five skill slots. I didn’t know how rare it was. Eventually, I would learn that most people only got one, and three made someone an elite. I had no idea how lucky I was. All I knew was that it gave me a chance to kill more of what I considered invaders.

“And I did. God, I did,” he went on. “I picked up skills. I leveled. And I murdered any alien I found. There were a lot of them. It was only after I found my way here that I started to settle in. I helped build this city, hoping that it would be a bastion for humanity, but it was all a farce. The private war I’d been fighting had already been lost. The aliens, they propped up the people who could protect their eventual interests. I was down here, fighting tooth and nail to maintain our independence, and those assholes were up there, making backroom deals to sell out their entire species.”

He looked up and smiled. “But it wasn’t all for naught,” he said. “After I killed one the puppets, I stole this.”

He held up a small, pink cube. I couldn’t really see many details from where I was sitting, but there were seven distinct symbols on each side. “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

“If you think it’s a Tier-7 Nexus Implant,” he said. “Then yes. Yes it is.”