AN: A big thanks to Ghost 501 for assisting with this story.
This little foray into noir fiction is written to work as a standalone novel. However, if you haven't read the related story over at Null Heart: Interdimensional Catastrophe, it is recommended – but not required – that you do so to get a peek at the misdeeds that have been happening across the pond in Leanbox.
Begin Experiment Log S-H-540: Null Heart, Part 2.
Hah. Another tape, is it? Such an impressive collection you possess. You are forever searching, are you not?
"You are doing much the same."
This is true enough. Yet, I do not understand the foolishness of encapsulating these memories in such a way. Surely you possess a more efficient method of storage? Even a device as ancient as a hard disk drive could contain this entire archive in far more digestible form.
"Hmph. Of all the beings in this far-reaching multiverse, you should be one knowing of the power of vintage quality."
Ah. Vintage, is it? How quaint.
"Quite so, dear CPU. Do allow me this one weakness of character, if you would?"
Of course. No one is immune to the human condition. Not even I.
"And we would not be preferring it any other way."
Play.
Lastation City – capital of the Land of Black Regality, as its official stamp named it. To call it a place like any other would be a terrible lie.
"Target has been sighted. She's entering the Rowdy Dragon parlor. You're going to go after her, right?"
"Have you ever known me to be patient?"
"Well, once upon a time…"
Approaching the establishment ahead, one would be struck by the impressive height of the structure it was housed within, were it not for every other building around it stretching to the sky in a similar manner, as if in a competition to reach ever higher and touch the roof of clouds above. The crescent moon peeked bashfully downward through a hole in the storm that had just rolled in, hanging over the city like a wet rag ready to be wrung. Already, a light rain was beginning to fall, pinging upon the concrete and asphalt and bringing the heady aromas of gasoline and oil to one's nose. A haze was forming around the massive sign greeting visitors to the "ROWDY DRAGON" in its garish neon red as a figure stepped in from the street below, the building's automated glass doors opening in welcome.
Beneath a veneer of normalcy could be found everything that one would dream of existing in a city of so many names. Lastation – the crossroad of Gamindustri. Lastation – home of the entrepreneur. Lastation – capital of the world.
A moment of silence was afforded as the entranceway closed behind, with another set of those deceptively bulletproof doors lying in wait just ahead. The figure standing within that muffled airlock stopped and grimaced, bracing for the room beyond. Then, as the next doors slid open, an assault upon one's senses was unleashed. Sound – great and terrible sound. Sounds of people. Sounds of joy, sounds of defeat. Sounds of machines, clicking and tinking and kachinging away, all overlaid with a thousand different melodies and jingles. And the sights – an entire maze of a floor dedicated to serving as a gaming parlor, where souls of all sorts would come to throw their money away in hopes of winning big.
Many denizens of Lastation contented themselves with normalcy, as it was. It was only natural for any upstanding citizen to shield his or herself from the shadowy underbelly that made the world tick and tock. Willful ignorance was the most profitable business in Lastation, after all, even if it found itself in a strange, contradictory place just below the eye of the law. Seeking a little indulgence every now and then to sate the appetite was not only expected, but encouraged – and the various industries of Lastation were more than willing to serve up a little made-to-order sin.
The décor was as ostentatious as one would expect for a place with such a name as the Rowdy Dragon, the room being dotted with lush potted plants hanging from the light fixtures snaking by on the ceiling overhead, visible in the paths between rows upon rows of electronic machines that stretched to nearly twice a man's height. Every color of the rainbow could be seen inside, whether from one of the many signs overflowing with words that excitedly begged passersby to give this or that a try, from the digital screens filling the eyes of the players with a lightshow to keep them pumped for more, or from the tawdry pattern found on the carpet beneath. All of it served to dull the senses, lest they be overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimuli.
But not everyone was content with a mere taste of Lastation's intoxicating brand of bread and circuses, of course. The darker side of Lastation did not run itself. There would always be those who wished to exploit it, as well as those who wished to bring some semblance of order or justice to the chaos teeming unseen. And beneath these lofty individuals could be found ten thousand cogs squeaking along in relative silence, only occasionally rearing their ugly heads to the general populace.
All in all, it was a good, healthy, balanced system – not perfect, but what was?
Sure, every now and then, a cog would fly loose, or grind to a halt. People would get hurt. A light would be cast on the shadow, sending the rats scampering for cover. Usually, one would just need to apply a little grease, and it would all work itself out. Everything would be back to normal with no one the wiser.
Sometimes, though, a little grease just wasn't enough. Sometimes, you needed something as expensive and as brutally effective as a precision airstrike – a specialist.
Within the crowded parlor hall, where one could scarcely believe that so many people could be packed into one room, a single figure made its way through, being largely ignored by the hundreds of visitors absorbed in their games of chance. The figure reached a hand up to the side of its neck before deciding against the gesture, moving that hand to a pocket to retrieve the oh-so-essential device known as a phone.
Which floor?
Moments later, a message flashed onto the screen.
Thirty-sixth floor. Not in view of cameras anymore. Be careful.
Of course. No one of note would sully themselves by being found on the ground floor of this place.
An elevator door was just ahead, but the figure veered to the side, instead electing to engage in a fitness course with the stairwell nearby. Up, and turn, and up, and turn, and up, and turn…
Elevator is faster.
An irritated groan was masked by the deafening volume that permeated the lower floors of the parlor at all hours of day and night.
Stairs are smarter.
Having wasted the few moments to tap out that message, the figure continued on, having finally reached the thirty-sixth floor in question. Here, the ambience was of a quieter nature, no longer leaving one's ears with the consistency of cotton.
Dropping in from the roof would be smarter. And cooler.
The only response to that particular message was a furrowing of the brow.
On this floor high above the ground, the crowd was notably thinner, the numbers on the signs were decidedly higher, and the machines were replaced by age-old traditional devices – tables hosting all manner of games, some skill-based, others quite luck-based. And beside those tables could be found more than just winners and losers.
Pick a lucky girl for me, won't you?
Certainly, those girls giggling in their coy way were a damn finer sight than anything else that had met the visitor's eyes this night, clad in a variety of outfits that all shared the goal of drawing one's attention to the goods nearly on display. One of those girls stepped over to this new visitor, opening her mouth to begin a practiced spiel, before closing her mouth right back up at the glare she received and stepping aside.
Ahead, gathered around a pool table under the flush of deep blue, there were a few men dressed in some of the finest pinstriped, broad-shouldered suits this side of Lastation, surrounded by the finest women this side of Gamindustri. Their joking and laughter died down as a stranger approached, her tailed coat being sharp, but just not quite sharp enough to fit the mood.
"Get a load of this broad, would you?" The sneer on the man's face as he turned and nodded to his gathered compatriots faded when the newcomer merely continued to walk past, not even deigning to give him a glance. The man jumped in front of the woman, making sure that he got her attention. "Hey! I'm talkin' to y—"
The man would surely be spending the next few hours engulfed in pain and regretting his life choices, but for now, he was rendered unconscious, having been thrown to the floor with a maneuver so swift that his companions could only blink in confusion.
"The hell? Did you see that?"
That was the sentiment of those who had witnessed the event, the room growing ever so slightly hushed as the mysterious woman made her way across the parlor floor, those who would seek to impede her now preemptively scurrying out of her path.
Subtle, Cave.
The woman tapped a finger to her neck before muttering, "I have no time for idiots dallying in their games of bravado."
"Gee. When did you get to be so cold?" spoke the voice in her ear.
"I prefer 'efficient.'"
Toward the back of the room, the open floor ended early at a wall with a metal door. A holographic keypad sprung to life where a handle might normally be found. Barely a moment passed before the warning crimson glow of the "LOCKED" indicator shifted to a more pleasant hue of blue, stating that the door was now "OPEN." In that single moment had occurred such a complex series of wireless electronic interactions that it would likely render the typical egghead from a decade prior into ecstatic shock. As it was, Cave was merely slightly pleased when the door slid open and then closed behind her, giving hardly a passing thought to the mechanisms behind the process she had just performed subconsciously. A narrow hallway continued onward, with several more doors present on either side of the hall.
"I do not suppose you know which room he is in?"
"Nope," came the answer.
"Then I will have to try them all."
That kind of sloppiness was hardly Cave's style, but this entire sortie had been a rush job, made frustrating by a target that knew it was being hunted. The exact method by which the quarry had managed to end up here was a mystery she had no time or will to solve. What she did know was that it was here, somewhere – and it would be fleeing quite soon if she did not get a move on.
Of course, no one earned the title of "specialist" by coming to work unprepared. A shimmering of color was visible upon Cave's eyes as her vision shifted, revealing the world to her in a whole new light. Unfortunately, that new light was a whole lot of blues and whites that weren't all that interesting to look at.
"The doors are shielded."
"Well, I guess the Rowdy Dragon values its customers' privacy, huh?"
The corner of Cave's mouth turned upward as her vision returned to normal. "Yet they care too little to patch the flaws in the door that allowed me near-instantaneous access to this private hallway."
"Hey, I've done enough reports on corporate security to know that IT is expensive!"
"Nevermind the revenue that comes with running a 'gaming parlor' spanning forty-three stories. Lastation's busiest, in fact, as you once wrote."
"Well, they do rent out some of the floors…"
Cave approached the first of the doors on her left, reaching out a hand. Her palm folded open, revealing a tiny compartment inside from which a cable snaked out, attaching itself to the surface of the door like a lamprey.
"…on, baby. They ain't gonna know about a little palm grease. So what say you and me kick this up a few notches, huh?"
Cave barely managed to hold back a groan of disgust as the words reached her from inside the room. Her eavesdropping session revealed only more lines of the sort one might expect to hear in the seedier dens dotting Lastation. She retracted the cable, moving on to the next door, where a similar story could be found, albeit in the form of a few noises she wished she could forget by the time she'd decided to try a third door.
She was nearly about to head to a fourth door, having deemed the current room being tested to be empty, until a voice cut through the silence.
"This place sucks. I just wanna get to Lowee already. What's taking so long? Is the driver lost? Or drunk? Lost and drunk?"
Positive match. That was the voice of her target.
"Shut it, girl. You're lucky we didn't just off your precious, spoiled ass after all the trouble you made for us."
"Oh yeah? You wouldn't dare. I'm worth too much to you, and you know it."
A moment passed before there was a loud thwap, followed by something thudding to the floor.
"What the fuck?" came the exclamation of a new voice. "Damaged goods don't pay the bills, you fucking idiot!"
In the next moment, the door swooshed open, as such doors were wont to do, interrupting whatever the occupants of the room had to say.
"What the…did you open that?"
"Hey, don't look at me, man!"
The two men cautiously raised their rifles, waiting for several tense seconds before deciding that they should take a look outside.
"Empty. There's no one out here."
"Figures, don't it? Just the door being sh—"
One of the men was suddenly knocked from his feet by an unseen force, his cheek rippling with the impact as if a match-ending haymaker had been delivered from a heavyweight champion. He flew limply to the ground, the rifle that had been in his hands clattering down next to him.
The other man was quick to raise his weapon when he saw the blur rushing toward him, just barely visible in the dim, moody lighting of the hall. He'd never seen this type of thing in person before, but years of watching action and sci-fi flicks tended to prepare one for almost anything, at least in a kind of tertiary sense. Before he could press his finger to the trigger, though, he felt something wrench the rifle to the side and yank it away from his hands just as a sharp pain went through his stomach, forcing him to double over. He could make out the sight of his rifle floating in the air for a moment before being enveloped by that strange blur – and then he felt the butt of his rifle smash him right in the face, laying him out on the floor. The last thought that went through his mind before he was interrupted by unconsciousness was that he'd just gotten his ass kicked by an invisible ninja, and that was pretty damn cool.
Cave wasted no time basking in her accomplishment, stooping down to place her newly acquired weapon on the floor away from the hands of its stunned owner – she would have disassembled the two guns to be extra cautious, but her knowledge on how to field strip the latest and greatest of illicit weaponry was sorely lacking.
Caution: SP reserves below fifty percent.
Occupying a corner of the AR display overlaying her vision was a blinking warning. She toggled off her optical camouflage, watching her arm fade back into view as if by magic. Relying on a gimmicky piece of technology went against much that she had been taught, but she had also been taught to use every option available – and she wasn't about to turn down the advantages cooked up by Lastation's brightest minds, now that she had them.
"Two thugs of the typical sort were dispatched without incident," Cave muttered, raising a hand to the side of her neck. "They appear to have been guarding the subject."
"Shoot! I wish I could've seen you in action."
"It was nothing out of the ordinary – aside from their weaponry, that is." Cave gave a glance toward each of the two guns on the floor. "Fully automatic assault rifles – ballistic, but still very new in design. No doubt they were expecting someone such as myself. I can only wonder at where they acquired their arms."
"Eh…no telling, really. With all the violence lately, I'm sure there's a market to leak some guns somewhere."
Cave's eyes narrowed. "I suppose looking into the matter ourselves would not be productive."
There was an audible sigh. "Eeyeh…I'm familiar with that problem. Still, though – rifles? Wouldn't it have been way easier to smuggle in something smaller?"
"Perhaps they feel emboldened by the decreasing popularity of metal detectors within Lastation. Their voluminous jackets are certainly up to the task."
"Oh, right. I guess you would've lit up like a Christmas tree waltzing on in through the front door if they didn't put so much trust in this handy-dandy camera network."
"I do not 'waltz.'" Before there could be any further comment, Cave added, "I am seeing to the subject now."
Awaiting in the room ahead was a typical set of comfortable, if tacky furniture, arranged in a circle around a spot that should have been occupied by a low coffee table, which was pulled over to the wall. Instead, placed in the center of the room was the form of a woman lying on her side, facing away from the door. Her hands were bound behind her back by metal handcuffs – truly, such an archaic restraining device must have been looted from a museum.
The young woman's eyes opened from their pained grimace when she felt something tug at her cuffs. "Um…"
Before the obvious question could even be asked, Cave was already answering, "I am here to rescue you." A moment later, she heard the satisfying click of the handcuffs releasing, having easily been opened by the lockpicking kit she kept within an inner coat pocket.
"'Rescue' me?" the target asked as she was gingerly lifted to a sitting position. "You mean you're taking me to Lowee, right?"
"…No."
The young woman sprang to her feet with sudden vigor, taking a few steps away before spinning to face her rescuer. "No no no no no! I know who sent you! I'm not going back to Mr. Kutaragi! No way, no how!"
"Hm. I would ask if you are injured, but I suppose that is a moot question."
The defiant young lady standing in front of Cave with crossed arms was hardly more than a girl, her neatly trimmed bob of dark hair partly concealing the bruise that marred her Lastation features. Her multi-colored eyes were glowing bright as if lit by some power source, but the true giveaway was the shape formed by her pupils, which would be notable to anyone who had even passing familiarity with a PC. She continued to glare with those unnatural eyes for a while, her cheeks puffed out in a childish manner.
A flash of irritation went through Cave – she'd dealt with uncooperative persons of interest before, but there was something particularly irksome about handling what amounted to retrieving a runaway child. "I do find it surprising that one such as yourself managed to enlist the assistance of a local gang. What I find less surprising is that you foolishly believed that they would actually railroad you to Lowee."
The girl lowered her arms. "What d'ya mean? Of course they were taking me to Lowee! If you hadn't shown up, I'd be in a car out of the city in a few minutes!"
"You mean you would be on your way to being held for ransom in a secure location, or perhaps having your sale to an interested buyer being arranged."
"Well, yeah, they already told me that someone in Lowee was gonna buy me, stupid!"
Cave's expression momentarily fell into a glare of its own. She let slip a tired sigh, rubbing her forehead at a nonexistent headache. "There is no time for this foolishness. I was hired to bring you back to your…father, and that is what I will do. You cannot honestly believe that being sold into veritable slavery is worse than that."
"Anything is better than going back to that place!"
"And why is that?"
The girl opened her mouth to snap out another reply, but something made her hesitate. "It doesn't matter where I go, does it? He's always going to be hunting for me…sending people like you after me. I'm never gonna be free, am I?"
"Not unless you are given the purpose of being free."
The girl's eyes turned aside, her lips pressing together into a thin line.
Cave took a step forward, having to tilt her head downward – she was at least a foot taller than her quarry. "I would be pleased enough to discuss the ethics surrounding the creation and ownership of CPUs another day, but I am afraid that we must get moving. The two men escorting you will not remain unconscious for much longer, and it is almost assured that I have managed to draw attention from others, as well. Willingly or not, you will need to come with me, lest you risk life and limb."
Another precious set of seconds passed, after which the girl gave a mopey little nod. "Okay."
Cave's response consisted only of a piercing look. She stepped out into the hall, where the two men were still lying, unmoving, but breathing.
"What are you doing?" asked the subject, watching as Cave dragged the men back into the room, depositing them in a corner.
"We cannot simply walk out through the crowds to the front door. We require a more discreet exit point." Cave made her way to the end of the hall, which was capped off by a wall adorned with some digital painting of ultra-post-postmodern art that she could hardly begin to describe. She reached into her coat to retrieve what looked to be a strip of chewing gum. Unravelling the silvery wrapper, she raised the gum to her mouth and gave it a lick before pressing it to the wall, where it stuck like a piece of tape. "Let us retreat back into the room momentarily. Oh, and do cover your ears."
Moments later, the building shook with the force of a low boom, which may or may not have been interpreted as part of the bass track in the song that was currently playing over the parlor's speakers.
"What the hay, Cave? I just saw part of the wall blow open from one of the outside cameras. You didn't do that, did you?"
Cave ignored the voice nagging at her via internal radio, instead turning her head to look at the young lady beside her as they stood over what was now a cliff leading to the outside world. "You can uncover your ears now."
"I-I know. I…um…wow."
The sight greeting them was breathtaking indeed, even if it was just a relatively low view of Lastation's skyline. The ground may have been far, far below at thirty-six stories up, but even still, there was an endless number of taller structures obstructing their view of the fluorescent cityscape around them. It all seemed to stretch on into infinity – not a single patch of darkness was visible on the horizon. From their point of view, it was entirely possible that the whole world consisted of this sprawling, rain-soaked city, filled to the brim with an ant colony's worth of cars, people, and gravity-defying skyscrapers, not to mention the glow of streetlamps and spotlights, the eye-searingly bright ads, the drones and airships lazily buzzing overhead…
"It is a testament to humanity's desire to create, to expand, to…improve," said Cave. "You are much the same."
"I…guess so." The girl's wistful gaze out through the rain whipping lightly at her face was interrupted when she felt a touch on her shoulder.
"There will be time for sightseeing on the way home. For now, let us make our escape."
The girl nodded as Cave kneeled down.
"Grab tightly onto my back, and do not let go."
A moment of hesitation passed.
"Quickly, now!"
Another moment went by before the girl complied, wrapping her arms around the woman's shoulders. Finding a place to put her hands was a bit awkward, but she managed.
Cave rose to her feet, the slowness of the motion more for her target's sake than her own. The fifty kilograms or so of composite materials and synthetic muscle fibers clinging to her felt like little more than a light backpack. "Are you ready?"
"Ready for wha—aaaAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
A scream filled the air as Cave stepped off the edge, a moment of weightlessness passing. In the next moment, her entire being was occupied with running down the side of the building in a dizzying blur. Sparks shot from beneath her boots as they struggled to find purchase against the wall, though whether that was from friction or from interaction between the rain-slick metal and the activated magnets in her feet was unknown. Wind filled her ears and brought water to her squinting eyes as she tightened her grip on the girl in her protection, who had incidentally stopped screaming at some point during the descent.
Another shriek briefly assaulted Cave's ears – above it rang out the crack of a gunshot, nearly knocking her out of the trance she had placed herself into. The world seemed to become a lot quieter for a second as the limiters adjusted to protect her hearing.
"Crap! They're gunning for you, Cave!"
Cave ignored the commentary from her would-be operator. She focused only on willing herself to somehow move faster, but there was still a long, long way to go – and one wrong move would send her plummeting to the unforgiving pavement beneath.
Another series of gunshots came from above, a spray of shrapnel hitting Cave's leg from where the bullets had struck the wall. Evidently, they valued killing her more than the price on the girl – that, or they were just stupid. She had hoped that the presence of the subject on her back would have been cover enough, but now she would simply have to bet on their aim being subpar until she could reach the bottom.
"Gah! They've got guys on the ground, too! A whole group of them!"
A twinge of fear shot through Cave more effectively than any bullet could when her eyes managed to make out the sight of guns being pointed her way from far below. The glow of nearly a dozen muzzle flashes coincided with a shimmering in the air around her – the electromagnetic shield had activated automagically, creating an impressive spray of heated lead as the projectiles were diverted.
Warning: SP reserves below twenty-five percent.
Cave's eyes darted around for some kind of escape. Her shield wouldn't last much longer, and either the bullets or the fall would kill her when her energy dropped below a critical threshold. She knew she was caught in a serious bind, but she hadn't come this far by letting panic sink its claws into her whenever she stared death in the face.
Some distance down was an elevated railway that ran close to the side of the building. A quick retrieval and calculation told her that the next train would be arriving at the point closest to her in…four seconds?
Her head turned to see that, as predicted, a train was fast approaching, following along above a major highway that cut through the heart of the city. Its speed, while impressive compared to the cars beneath, was not characteristic of its aerodynamic shape – safety dictated that such a bullet train could only challenge the sound barrier when racing through the countryside between the metropolises dotting the world.
Another calculation told her that her landing velocity would be far outside survivable limits for a human being. And common sense told her that her plan was suicidal. But she had little other choice.
…Three.
Two.
One.
"Now!"