It was warm.
Lo-fi pop with a catchy yet comfy beat played in the background.
He felt a warmth against his body. She was cuddled up close to him. The smell of strawberries wafted up and into his nose, and he nuzzled in closer to her hair, enjoying it.
"This movie's lame."
"You picked it." He replied.
"You should've stopped me."
He chuckled at that. "I know better than to try it."
She pulled away her head from his shoulder and glared at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean!? ... Just kidding." And she nestled up close to him again.
He pulled out the remote, and clicked the button, killing the HOLO projector.
"It's about time we turned in for the night..."
He looked at his side to kiss her goodnight.
A bloodied face with half her skull blown apart stared back at him.
And he screamed.
. . .
"MISSY!"
Gen bolted upright, his grey t-shirt slick with cold sweat.
"Fuck." He muttered to an empty bed, an empty apartment.
"Bad dream?" A female voice asked, voice warm and familiar.
"Yeah." He slid to the edge of the bed and planted his bare feet upon the cold faux-wood floor, head cradled in his trembling hands.
A holo projection of a young woman appeared, beamed from a movable projector attached to the apartment's ceiling. Olive skinned, and looked like she was of Cuban descent. Brunette bangs and a short ponytail.
She slid in close to him, lay a hand on his back, though he couldn't actually feel it.
"Tell me about it."
"It's the same one as always." Gen dug around in the end table and fished out a cig, and quickly lit up.
He exhaled a cloud of gray haze while rubbing at his temples.
He toggled his personal HUD and glanced at the top right of his AR optics feed. It was 5:35 AM on a Monday.
Shit, that's right, he had something he needed to do today, for once.
"Joanna, day and schedule please."
"You have your in-person interview with Kievrur Engineering today at 8 AM sharp. You instructed me to inform you, and I quote, 'Get your shit together and wear something half decent. Get your head out of your ass.' end quote."
Gen chuckled, despite his throbbing hangover. "Thanks. Anything else?"
"You've left your schedule clear for the remainder of the day."
...
"Keys?"
"Got it."
"Briefcase?"
"Yup."
"...Cigarettes?"
"Ha. Right here."
"You look great, Gen."
"Thanks, Jo."
"Oh, but you've got a bit of a... Here, let me..." She reached in and patted something against his tie. "There." She smiled at him.
Gen nodded back and returned the smile, despite knowing the hologram didn't actually physically fix anything.
"Come back in time for dinner, 'kay?" Joanne said, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Mhm." Gen grunted and headed out into the cold and the rain.
Out from his warm sanctuary, and back into the unforgiving streets of Aventine.
His Speedster, a high-end Model S, lay waiting for him in the driveway, the rain pelting off its matte black finish.
The driver-side coupe door slid upwards and he slipped in, settling in comfortably against the plush leather bound chair.
He tapped his thumb on the biometric scanner, and, following a quick scan of his thumbprint and facial features, the car's HUD and operating systems came to life - illuminating the cabin a light blue.
"Destination?" A robotic female voice queried him.
"352 Main Street, Corpo Square, Downtown. Kievrur Engineering Headquarters."
"Confirmed. Calculating best route. Estimated travel time under current conditions: 30 minutes."
"Uh huh." Gen muttered, leaning back into his seat and taking out his index cards. Old fashioned, but he liked to go analog on some things.
He reviewed his talking points and rehearsed through some of the typical hardball interview questions the Corpos might throw at him. He'd been jobless for awhile after getting fired from the APD, no way he'd let this opportunity slip.
He glanced into the rearview mirror, scratching his chin self-consciously before practicing his smiles, watching his reflection's expression closely.
His Speedster sped through the highways, weaving in and out of traffic.
He spoke to himself, rehearsing his answers all through the trip.
...
The Speedster arrived at a dour looking structure of glass and metal. This was to be his new home away from home for the foreseeable future. He stepped outside and crushed the cig beneath the heel of his shoe.
He didn't bother activating the car drone to run patrols or watch over his car. No scum were allowed to loiter in Corpo Square. The APD, Sentries, and other enforcers made sure of that.
He tightened up his tie and adjusted it. Tapped his finger over where Joanne had fussed over it and allowed himself a small smile. Calmed his nerves a bit.
Sensor-activated double doors whooshed open. An android receptionist greeted him.
"Hello! How may I help you?"
"I'm here for an interview."
"Of course! Name please?"
"Gen Nishimoto."
"Let me see... ah, here we are. Gen Nishimoto, we have you slotted for 8 AM."
"That's right."
The blonde-haired android tapped at a button behind her ear. "Ma'am, Gen Nishimoto is here. Okay. Understood."
She released her hand from the built-in earpiece. "Please follow me." She twirled around and began clacking her heels down the hall from the lobby.
...
The elevator was filled with Kievrur Engineering ads. Most disturbingly, they all seemed to be tailored to his own current wants and desires. His own personal profile.
Lonely? Depressed? She can help. - A beautiful woman similar in appearance to his Joanne appeared on one of the holo ads plastered along the walls of the elevator. She's projected from a device with the Kievrur Engineering logo emblazoned on it.
For a better world. For a better you. Be happy. It's a choice. - An idyllic view of a sunset along the beach appears on the screen, followed by the Kievrur Engineering logo and an image of their latest VR headset model released on the market.
See your loved ones again-
Gen immediately shut his eyes and cut off his audio feed with a quick few swipes on his personal HUD. The ads were getting too personal.
Fingers itched to grab a smoke. But he resisted the temptation. Had to get the job. He dumped a fill colored pills onto his palm and gulped it down instead.
...
Ding!
The elevator doors slid open, and Gen returned his aural feed back to default volume levels.
He followed the orange light on the floor towards a small office, one of many lining the walls of opaque glass.
A middle-aged woman with gray streaks and dressed in black business casual sat behind a large chromed desk.
Gen took a seat and they shook hands.
"I'm Carol, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine."
"Okay, why don't we start by you telling me a little bit about yourself."
...
"Interesting. Last question- why did you leave the APD?"
"It... it was time for a change. I needed a new challenge."
"Mr. Nishimoto, pardon my French, but cut the crap."
Gen raised an eyebrow. Well, he wasn't too surprised. He'd heard the rumors.
"How much do you already know?" He asked anyway, to check.
"We know enough. The truth, if you please." She said with a cold edge to her voice.
"I was let go. The department didn't think I was a good fit anymore. Not after... not after my partner died."
"What happened?"
"My partner. Missy was her name. She died and it was all my fault. I lost my way, lost my anchor, after that. I became a loose cannon. The APD didn't need guys like that. They cut me loose as soon as they were able."
The woman nodded, tapped a few keys on her computer. Apparently satisfied that she'd gotten the truth. "You'll have to pardon my bluntness - why should we hire broken goods like you?"
Gen smiled bitterly. "Because you guys aren't the good guys. Nope, don't give me that look. I've spent years in the APD, working with and against you corpos. I know how you operate. I know what goes down. Beneath all the glass and glamor? There's something real dark. Real nasty. And you need 'broken' guys like me to do the wetwork and pull the trigger without a second thought. No rules, no morals, no objections."
A thin smile slithered across her face. "Heh. The Sentries weren't kidding. You are quite the smooth talker. You're right. We could find a use for you. Agents with a silver tongue and combat experience are especially useful. Hmm." She tapped in a few more keystrokes. "This interview's done. We'll be in touch within the week. Goodbye."
He was herded out by the android secretary, while Corporate Sentries (N.B. sentry = spy/agent) continued to watch him from the shadows.
...
Loud punk rock was playing. The air in his cramped apartment was stale with booze and old pizza. Cartons of Chinese takeout littered the counter, and the floor was strewn with dirty laundry. Missy was the one to tidy up the place whenever she came over. Now she's gone. A dual pair of VR headsets lay unused in the corner, gathering dust. His bookshelf lay untouched in months.
It was a Thursday night and Gen was 6 drinks deep when he received the email notification on his HUD.
"Congratulations, we at Kievrur Engineering are pleased to inform you..."
He skimmed thru the email, half conscious.
"Haaah. I hic got the job."
Joanna materialized from thin air thanks to the wonders of Kievrur tech. "Oh congratulations Gen! I'm so happy for you." She ran up and rubbed at his back. He put a hand over hers, hovering it above the hologram.
He reached out his beer glass and clinked it with hers.
"A toast... to second chances. And new beginnings."
"To new beginnings!" She cheered and they both downed their drinks in a single gulp.
…
Orientation came and went. Standard staples of a tour of the offices, and introductions to coworkers. A quick rundown of how training would go, both combat and administrative. He didn't worry too much, it wouldn't be much harder than how his APD training was.
He settled in quick.
..
The middle-aged woman that interviewed him stood behind a glass panel, watching him run the obstacle courses and reading his bio readouts on a scrolling screen.
She tapped his face twice amongst a short list of dozens. "I've decided. I want him. Make it happen."
The Datatech nodded. "Right away ma'am."
…
He blew through the weedout courses, and excelled in his physical and mental tests. Now came Match day.
He and a few other candidates were herded into a small conference room, where each of them were to be assigned to a handler that's handpicked them for their elite Sentry cells.
He noticed the woman with graying hair eying him down, and sure enough, she waved him up.
"Congratulations, you've made it through your probationary period. Welcome to Kievrur Engineering, Sentry Gen Nishimoto. I, Carol Predijek, will be your handler. You will receive assignments from me and will report to me. You're dismissed for today. Get some rest. We're putting your training to the test bright and early Monday."
….
His Speedster sped through the night streets of Aventine. 7PM on a Friday and the streets were packed with people leaving work for the day, people headed downtown for parties, and gangs prowling around for their next score.
He pulled over to a large tenement building drenched in a neon haze. Climbed up dilapidated stairs and avoided eye contact with the junkies leaning against the walls - scratching at their scars and twitching out.
He made it to his door, where the words FUCKIN PIG GOES OINK OINK was scratched onto it. A memento from when he was still in the APD. Beep! Facial and retinal scan later and the door hissed open.
He shed off his black leather trenchcoat, and started loosening his tie.
"Welcome home, Gen! I missed you…"
"Mph. Me too." Gen grunted as he pried the shoes off his swollen feet, then fell into his plastic chair overlooking the city thru a thin paned glass window. Rain was streaking down, as always. Cars bulleted through the sky in the horizon, and the highrises in the distance painted a neon tapestry of colors.
"What a day huh?" Joanna said, sidling up to his side. "Here… Kick back and relax. I've already got dinner ready for you."
Gen smiled, and leaned back in his chair, cigarette lit and sticking out the corner of his mouth.
"Thanks. What did you make me?" He said as he turned on the TV.
An ad was playing. * …"-can be who you want her to be. Tell you what you want to hear. Be your missing piece. She's waiting for you… visit your nearest Kievrur kiosk for more infor-"* He quickly shut it off.
A mechanical arm grabbed a small tray from the dispenser and placed it on the small table in front of him. The gray mass of gelatinous synthetic protein and fiber was quickly covered over by a synced hologram of steak and potatoes.
"Your favorite honey. New York Strip and mashed potatoes with country gravy." She cooed.
"You always know how to make a guy smile." He started cutting into the "steak." Flashed the hologram a smile. "It's good." He chewed, and swallowed the bland mass of protein.
"Aw, thanks. I'm so glad you like it." Joanna clasped her hands together in front of her chest, then moved over and placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them. "Tell me about your day."
"Oh, you know… They had me do some more training… But I finally finished today. I'm a fully fledged Sentry now."
"Oh how wonderful, I always knew you could do it." She smiled her artificial smile at him. She sat at the edge of his desk, and pulled out a cigarette of her own. "Do you mind?"
"Ha. Don't need my permission." Gen said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Joanna lit up, and for a split second, he saw Missy's face in Joanna's, distorting the hologram.
He nearly choked on his protein paste.
"! What's wrong Gen? You've gone pale all of a sudden."
"...Nothing. Just tired. I'm gonna turn in early tonight Jo."
"Okay honey, I'll dim the lights. Sweet dreams."
..
He had the same nightmare that night.
…
Weekends in Aventine, Gen usually took Joanna along with him in a state of the art Kievrur emanator and walked along the streets, seeing what there was to see. They stuck to Downtown, near the Corpos and glitzed up business sectors, where APD presence was the highest.
He downed a few anti-anxiety meds, and numbed his mind. Going with the flow, he let Joanna decide where they should go, and what they should do.
Ended up spending Saturday at some strange wax museum filled with pretentious pieces of "modern art" followed by an ice cream "date" at a parlor along the bay. He ate his vanilla while she ate her holographic strawberry sherbet, laughing and talking as the ocean waves crashed against the nearby rocks and the gulls squawked.
Sunday, he and Joanna got shit-faced at a nearby club. Dancing away the night. A young woman approached him, drunk, wanting him to take her home. Joanna nodded, encouraged him. He took her to his place, and they had sex, with Joanna syncing up to the woman and taking over her appearance. It was wrong, but he was satisfied.
...
The weekend blew by in a flash, and it was soon time for his first mission as a Sentry.
And they threw him directly into the shit.
"Target's a compromised Kievrur asset. Wants to squeal to the APD."
"Squeal what?" Gen asked.
"You don't need to know the details. All you need to know is we want him eliminated, and you're the one to do it."
Gen gave a bitter laugh. "Already putting me on a hit job? You guys aren't exactly subtle about who you are. What happened to that bright and optimistic Corporate spiel you guys gave me at the new hire orientation? Seemed almost wholesome. 'A brighter future, a better you, a better world- through Kievrur.' Shit, I almost believed it."
"Cut the crap Gen, and focus. Here's what we know…"
…
"And I'll be operating alone?"
"Obviously. Less loose ends, less loose mouths. Keep the job clean, then report back for debrief."
"Ma'am."
…
He found his mark easily enough. Intel was solid. Enjoying a nice New Year's gala in some big shot's mansion, rubbing elbows and passing business cards.
He attached the suppressor to his rifle, set up the weapon mount, and zeroed in scope.
He wet his finger and held it in the air, quickly judging the wind speed and direction, calling upon his extensive training at Kievrur and as an elite APD Sentinel.
Scope zoomed in, he spotted the rat-faced man in a suit, sipping on a bubbly and talking with another similarly sharp-dressed man.
He squeezed the trigger, and the suit was soiled with a blast of gore, the crimson spreading out from the center. He collapsed onto his knees, dead. From this distance, he couldn't hear anything, but he imagined they were all screaming like stuck pigs right about now. They were certainly running like headless chickens. He quickly disassembled the rifle, wiped his prints off the handle, and tossed it to the ground of the small, ratty abandoned apartment room. Pulled his trench coat collar up, and wrapped his face in a scarf before hauling ass to his Speedster. Area was deserted, but they no doubt will be sending the APD in a large radial sweep of the area soon enough.
He sped off to Kievrur, listening in on the radio as he drove.
"Breaking news, prominent philanthropist and lead researcher of Kievrur Engineering has been murdered. Witnesses say he was shot. Here we have an eyewitness account." A shaky voice begins speaking. "We were all talking, having a good time, when suddenly the window shattered and Dale collapsed onto the ground, dead! My God, there was blood everywhere! I- I knew the city had its troubles, but didn't realize it could happen here. To us!" It switches back to the newscaster, and she continues in her dynamic delivery voice. "APD have vowed to catch the assassin, and have started a city-wide manhunt. As of this moment, there are no suspects. If anyone has seen anything, they are urged to immediately call in on the 24/7 tipline, with a bounty of 500 credits as an incentive for any information that leads to an arrest-"
Gen cut her off with a flick, killing the radio.
….
Carol and an entourage of suited agents were waiting for him when he got back.
"With me. Now."
He was herded into her personal office.
"That was sloppy. Messy."
"They didn't catch me." Gen retorted. "Hell, they've no clue who did it."
She frowned, but relented. Knew he was right. "Hmph. You couldn't have waited till he was alone? Get him in his apartment?"
"Man like that's bound to have a security detail around his place. Anyway, you mind telling me why you ordered a hit on your own guys? Heard the radio. Said he was Kievrur. So I gotta ask. Who's next on the hit list? Me? Gonna get rid of the loose end now?"
She pursed her lips. "He was going to divulge… company secrets. That's all you need to know. And no, Gen. We don't make it a habit to expend assets that are still useful. Remain useful, and you have nothing to fear, Mr. Nishimoto."
"Gee, makes me feel better already."
"We pay well enough, wouldn't you agree? Comes with the job." She said bluntly.
"Sure."
"Overall, sloppy job. Do better next time. But you got the target killed, and didn't get yourself caught. Pay's already wired over. Go home, come back tomorrow ready for another job. Dismissed."
"... Ma'am."
….
Over the coming months, he underwent countless jobs, each one accomplished more efficiently and cleanly than the last, as he gained experience in the clandestine world of the Sentry, mixing APD special forces tactics with Sentry Operator best practices. He soon rose to become one of the top agents, Sentries on a short list, his dossier often fingered personally for high-risk, high-priority jobs.
Everything was going smooth, until one day, he was tasked with eliminating someone from the APD.
She was idealistic. Law enforcement with a conscience. One of those do-gooder types that reminded him of himself. Worse of all, reminded him of her.
He cornered her in an out of the way alley.
His hands gripped his pistol till it drained of blood, pale as paper.
"Please… please don't.. What did I ever do to you?" She plead for her life. Eyeliner streaked and ran down her eyes.
Goddamn, she even styled her hair in the same way.
"It's… it's nothing personal." He muttered.
"I can disappear. You don't have to do this. Let me go, and I'll ghost off into the badlands." Her raised hands were trembling.
Gen closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger twice.
He missed.
And when he opened his eyes, she was gone.
He didn't miss on purpose, he told himself, enough times so that he'd believe it. So that he'd be ready for the post-op debrief and evaluation session. The interrogation.
….
He was sat in a chair in a sterile white room. His handler was sat across from him, behind a computer. A camera was zoomed in on his eyes, detecting even the slightest pupil dilation. His voice was analyzed to the minute detail to detect lies and emotions. Heart rate, body temperature, everything was measured.
Carol rubbed her temples slowly before slowly looking up at him.
"You've done so good up to this point. Every op a success. What happened out there, Gen? Why now?"
"I.. I.. she got away. I missed."
"A precision sniper like you? Miss?"
"I missed." He said, trying his best to sound and look truthful.
She sighed again.
"Tell me more about your history with the APD. Tell me more about… Missy. You're still not over what happened, are you?"
The computer immediately beeped, alerting Carol.
"Miles off from baseline already. Christ." She muttered.
Gen's eyes dilated. Breathing strained. He felt his throat close up. "...Huh? Missy…?"
She got to the point. "I'm pulling you from field ops. You're still not ready. We'll get you sent off to one of our shrinks, get you back down to emotional baseline. And if that doesn't help, we'll have to terminate you. And I don't have to spell it out for you what that means. For now, your pay's been docked. Get the hell out of my office, and get your shit together."
"Ma'am…" Gen muttered as he got up on shaky legs to leave.
She quickly made some calls as he left. "Yeah, get me Grey. Yes, I know she's with Strauss. No. Okay, fucking LEND her to me. All my other guys are on ops. What do you think? YES he fucked up. Yeah I know it's a mess. Okay. Yes. Thanks. I owe you." She hung up.
….
After that failure, Gen drank himself into a stupor in his dingy little apartment, with a concerned Joanna looking on helplessly. Forget. Feel nothing. Erase the pain.
….
A few days later he heard the news. He'd been transferred. New handler's named Bishop, apparently. Fatass seemed like an asshole, that's for damned sure.
….
