Daveren awoke as he felt the transport slow. He stretched, carelessly
cracking his elbow against a cockpit panel. He'd elected to make the trip
in the Pi's cockpit. "Rise and shine, bud," a man's voice announced over
the radio, as Daveren warmed up the Pi's systems and started a check.
"This is as far as I go," the driver told him.
"Pay the man," Daveren told Cherry, satisfied with the preliminary check.
"Comply," she responded neutrally.
"Payment received," the driver broadcasted, sounding a great deal friendlier. "Good luck."
"Thanks," Daveren replied as the trailer hatch cracked open and the conveyor propelled the Pi to the ramp and down to the roadbed. He turned, the Pi trundling slowly to the heavy blast doors that cut off the road. Warning signs were plastered over the door and surrounding rock face. "Warning: High Radiation Zone. Authorized Entrance Only"
"Broadcast access codes."
"Comply."
Daveren found himself annoyed by Cherry's flat tone. He found it easy to get annoyed with her when dealing with her Core personality. You simply couldn't fit the hardware for a full AI persona into a combat core, especially if he had to load extra equipment, and paying for the bandwidth access to keep in touch with her real-time from the hanger would be courting a disastrous chance of discovery. So he had to content himself with the company of a mere fragment, and having to listen to that dull, lifeless simulacrum instead of Cherry's usual witty, vibrant, self always set him slightly on edge.
The Pi stepped through the blast doors with unusual preponderance. He'd equipped it with heavy legs and core to carry all the extra armor he'd added on. A full ecm suite occupied the core's computer slots, and a rocket pod occupied each shoulder. He'd forgone hand weapons this time, equipping heavy arms with a large shield attached to each forearm.
He settled into his seat, gnawing a thumbnail as the lift shuddered to life and began its ascent. He had prepared as well as he could, and now he simply had to wait and see if he'd judged the other pilot correctly. Most of the time he managed to hold onto an almost imperturbable aura of cool, but sometimes, the waiting got completely beneath his skin. It'd been more than a month since he'd taken a contract, and funds had been getting really tight. The competition on the contract lists had been ridiculous, and nothing that he'd been willing to take had been tossed his way. An arena battle had seemed like a good way to keep his name in the action, and he always had the option of turning down the contract afterwards if he deemed it unsuitable. It all seemed cut and dry. DnD shouldn't give him more than a moment's pause. Shouldn't. IF he'd read everything right. If.
He tore his thumbnail ragged and kept on gnawing. Cherry always knew how to fix him when he got into these moods, a little flirting, a flash of bodice and a funny line and his funk would be gone. But that was the real Cherry, not the lobotomized half-wit he had with him now. Perspiration trickled down the back of his neck. Despite the fact that it was already cool, he cranked the temperature a few degrees lower. "How are you feeling Cherry?" He wanted to hear her voice, even if it wasn't really her.
"All systems nominal," the onboard personality replied.
Daveren suddenly realized that he hated the Core AI. He loathed it with - "Now entering arena zone," a harsh voice intoned. Daveren tried to wrestle his emotions under control. He couldn't afford to fly off the handle over something so trivial and tried to regain his usual calm detachment. Just before the lift reached ground level his view screen went blank. "Display: systems check," he ordered, alarmed.
The familiar brunette appeared on the screen in front of him. "Hey sailor, sorry that I couldn't be there to see you off, but," she leaned forward, giving him an excellent display of cleavage and blowing him a kiss. "I'll be waiting when you get back." She lifted a pair of glasses and a bottle of champagne into view and winked, and then the screen cleared.
"Thanks Cherry," Daveren said, feeling the turmoil recede to the back of his mind. It amazed him sometimes how well she could read and anticipate him. He settled his hands loosely onto the control sticks, giving the status panels one last check as the lift shuddered to a stop, and a com line opened. "Proceed to the coordinates displayed on your radar. Combat commences at 12:00. You have nine minutes, fifty two seconds and counting to reach your starting position."
DnD was already waiting by time the Pi reached its starting point, with three minutes to spare. The Cores faced each other from opposite ends of a long, narrow road, crumbling buildings blocking them in from both sides. Daveren took the remaining time to size up his opponent. He felt reassured that he had judged the pilot and Core correctly. Both of its arms had been replaced with a double-barreled 100mm machine gun, and Dav was surprised to see a chain canon folded back over each of the Core's shoulders. Its legs looked ridiculously undersized for its weapon load.
"Yeah, it's been plus'd all right." A standard two-legged core, in order to properly balance the recoil of the shoulder cannons would have to kneel before firing. Otherwise it stood an excellent chance of knocking itself onto its back, making heavy cannons impractical for use in high movement conflicts, such as an arena battle, unless the safeties had been overridden.
"Cherry, opponent system check. What's he got?"
"Unable to comply. ECM jamming detailed scan."
"Fair enough. It would've been easier if he'd been a complete idiot."
"Thirty seconds until battle commencement," the voice announced and Dav took a deep breath, watching the timer tick down. He checked the wires in his neck. DnD jittered.
"Go!" the voice announced, and Dav was stunned to see both chain cannons unfold over the other Core's shoulders.
"Duck and cover!" he shouted, the Pi crouching, bringing its forearm shields up to cover its head and torso at the same time the DnD opened fire, with both chain canons and machine guns. "How the hell can he do that?" Dav demanded as impacts rocked the Pi, and armor readouts began flashing amber and red. With buildings blocking him in on both sides there were only two ways he could go. "Backslide," he ordered, the Pi's leg thrusters flaring up and shooting it backwards. The impacts ceased almost immediately and Dav risked looking up, despite the round that still struck occasionally. The DnD was still blazing away with all guns, all the core's thrusters running at full in order to keep the massive recoil from blowing it onto its back.
The guns tried to track as the Pi moved, but the effort of keeping the Core balanced while slaving all four guns was simply more than its computer could handle. Dirk had taken advantage of the lag before start to zero all his cannons on the Pi's starting position, but now that the Core was in motion , his computer was so woefully overtaxed that it simply couldn't keep up with the Pi. Shells smashed into the road, the buildings, all to few actually striking the Pi itself.
Davern continued to slide backwards, keeping just ahead of the DnD's tracking guns. "Overload rockets, cold warheads, hot luanch." The rocket pod on the Pi's right shoulder opened up and Dav sighted along the infrared site, placing it center of the Dnd's torso. He squeezed the trigger and the Pi staggered as the entire pod took flight at once. The DnD stopped firing as soon as the pod flipped over the Pi's shoulder, but it took a second for it to rebalance itself, and when it tried to go evasive, the same narrow street that had aided it before now hemmed it in. Because the warheads were flying cold there were no targeting pulses for the anti- missle system to trace, meaning it had to track and target over a dozen rockets independently and fire counter measures accordingly, all while still recovering from the processor strain of before. Several rockets detonated mid-flight, but the rest impacted against the DnD. Dirk screamed over the radio as the electromagnetic discharges shorted through his systems, the feedback feeding straight into his brain.
"Drawback to plusing. Shouldn't have cut the buffer," Dav said with a certain amount of satisfaction.
The DnD convulsed and spun in a circle, its thrusters firing erratically. The core arched backwards as if it were feeling its pilot's pain, then fired all of its thrusters at once, lifting a few meters off the ground and slamming into the side of a building. The Core fell backwards and lay on its back, waving its double-barreled arms in the air like an overturned beetle. With all of its electronics disrupted Dav could finally get a full scan. "You've cracked half your actuators and blown most of your internal hydraulics. Call it."
"You cheated," Dirk shouted, and spit flecked his lips in the static streaked video window. "Judgement against him! He cheated!"
Dav waited for the warning tone to sound that would indicate the accusation had been acknowledged and was under consideration. When none sounded he cut the link to DnD.
"Balance left," Dav instructed as the Pi stepped up to the prone core. "Field goal," he instructed, feeling the Core's gyros shift slightly. The Pi's right leg drew back then shot forward, connecting solidly with the DnD's well armored head. It flew in a graceful arc, crashing into the upper stories of a leaning skyscraper.
"Death and Destruction has been completely disabled. Victory is awarded to the Cherry Pi," the judges intoned.
Dav allowed himself a shudder as he switched the systems over to normal operations. The feeling of calm fled him completely, sweat springing up along his spine again. His radar picked up a new set of blips as the recovery teams moved into the combat area. Dav waved off assistance. Although his armor had been chewed to hell and back, the actual damage to the Pi was superficial enough that he could wait until he'd gotten back to the garage.
He was surprised when the tone sounded for an incoming message. "Congratulations. Looks like the contract is yours."
"Mrs. Koerbie," Daveren acknowledged, slightly surprised.
"I told you that I'd be watching. Set a course northwest 300°, 15 km."
"That's within the shrapnel zone," Dav said, noting that the location was within the yellow bar on the radar surrounding the combat zone. "Your bodyguard take a pottybreak?"
An unhappy grunt came from the background. "I didn't think that I'd have to worry, and since the closest round impacted 7km away, I think I was justified."
"Are you happy with my performance?"
"I didn't see anything to make me unhappy."
"I don't suppose you're not unhappy enough to toss in for repairs and a new coat of rad paint?"
"Sorry, but no. I can offer you a ride home."
"Only if you've got a big trunk, or-," his voice trailed off as he cleared the combat zone. A transport was waiting for him, ramp open.
"Or what?" Twae prompted.
"I'll just be quiet for a while, if you don't mind." As he guided the Pi into the transport he expected to have to spend the duration of the decontamination sequence in the cockpit. Then he saw the interior. Unlike the transport that he had ridden up in, this one was fully loaded, practically a luxury edition. At the far end of the hanger was a lounge, with a telescoping hatch that would allow him to exit as soon as the Pi was secured. The cost of hiring the transport easily matched repairs and a new coat of rad paint.
"Take a nap baby," Dav instructed Cherry, as the restraints closed on the Pi. The brunette appeared on the screen, blew him a kiss and then pillowed her head on her arms, 'Zs' appearing above her head. Then the screen and the lights dimmed, and a clang came from the Pi's exterior as the hatch connected.
Dav blinked at the bright lights as he stepped into the lounge. Twae was seated at the far end, a satellite view of the battle playing on the screen in front of her. Her bodyguard was standing at her side, a disapproving glare directed at him from the moment he entered.
"Excellent performance," Twae complimented without looking around. She zoomed the image out to view both cores. "A lot of jockeys would've panicked coming under fire that heavy." She froze the playback at the point where the Pi raised its arms to cover itself. "Instead you keep a level head, get a grip on the situation and neutralize your opponent." She resumed the playback, watching it through to the end. "When he refused to concede, it was within the rules for you to simply unload on his core and kill him."
Dav shrugged, still on his guard. "This was business, and unnecessary killing makes for bad blood."
Twae turned off the display. "Intelligence, and enough level-headedness to be mistaken for compassion. Rare traits in a mercenary pilot these days."
"Being a Raven doesn't mean what it used to," Daveren said neutrally.
Twae leaned forward, her eyes intent. "Which touches upon the heart of what I want to hire you for. Refreshment?" she asked suddenly. Without waiting for an answer she snapped her fingers and the bodyguard opened the fridge, tossing a can to Dav.
He caught it then immediately set it down on the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know, what am I getting into? Don't think me too ungrateful, but all you've given me so far is a ride home, a pretty face, and a lot of meaningless talk, that sounds big, but just how big could it be if you're willing to make it the prize of an arena toss up?"
Twae leaned back in her seat, again all business. "I need a Raven for this contract." She took a deep breath, but before she could speak again Dav interrupted.
"Which narrows the candidate pool down to two-thirds of the core jockeys out there. You want someone who can fight, just look at the records."
Twae's eyes flashed, but she kept her temper. "Alright, that little turd got under my skin, and I figured you'd put him in his place but good. I already had my eye in your direction, he just made me alter my approach."
Dav twirled his finger idly around the edge of the can. "Approach for what?"
"You just said that being a Raven doesn't mean what it used to. What did you mean by that?" she asked, dodging around his question.
Dav stared at her for a second, then decided to play her game. "That kid back there is a perfect example of what I meant. When I joined the Ravens eight years ago, someone like him wouldn't have even got an admission trial. But eight years was a long time ago, and the Raven's have really fallen apart. Ever since-."
"-four years ago, when Lana Nielson disappeared. And Nineball."
"And the Ten-Yen Wonder," Dav added. "Something happened between Ten-Yen and Nineball, something bad, something that escalated to the point where Ten-Yen left the Ravens and went on contract with Progtech. And Nineball started taking missions that sent him after Progtech. And then without warning or a whimper thereafter, they both just disappear, and somehow take Lana along with them. We all though that she was just the Raven's recruiter and contract contact, but when she disappeared, the entire organization collapsed. We had to rebuild and run everything ourselves, and it's never been the same. The admission trials are a joke. All you have to do is shell over enough kaseys and you're in. What does that have to do with the job?"
"I need a dick," Twae said straight-faced.
"You seem to have a perfectly good one right there," Dav said, rising to the bait, directing his glance towards her bodyguard., whose perpetual scowl deepened.
"One of the things in your record that caught my eye was that you've done investigative work in the past."
"And you want to hire me to find out what happened to Nineball, Lana, and Ten-Yen. A lot of people have tried to do that in the past. A lot of people have failed. How are you any different?"
"Nineball was my father."
Dav stared at her for a few moments. "I see," he said finally.
Anger crossed Twae's features for the first time. "You don't believe me."
"I don't not believe you. I've heard stranger things, and nothing comes to mind to immediately contradict your claim."
"Did you ever meet him?"
"I worked with him a few times, against him a couple of times too, but he was never anything more than a voice over the radio. No one ever met him face to face, but that wasn't so unusual back then with the way Lana ran things. She ran almost every 'tract and interaction by wire. At least half the Ravens never showed their faces, either by inclination or happenstance."
"I may not look it, Mr. Connell, but I'm only two years old."
The bodyguard finally spoke up. "I had done some specialized work for Nineball in the past, well enough that I apparently gained his faith. Three years ago I received instructions from him, along with a substantial sum." Dav stared to speak, but the bodyguard held up his hand. "It was an automated message, a fail safe of some sort. It sent me to a derelict warehouse in Tawara, where I found a hidden laboratory with Ms. Koerbie just coming out of cryo suspension."
Twae broke in at that point. "My first memories are of being lifted from the suspension bed. Unlike most, I had to get accustomed to walking and talking after my body was fully grown. The instructions that my father had left indicated that he thought he would be coming back. In the interim he left me a formidable finical reserve, but not much else."
"I see," Dav said thoughtfully. "And what are the terms of your contract?"
"I want you to find Lana Nielson, the Ten-Yen Wonder, or Nineball. Find out what connected them, and how it tied to my father. I will be satisfied with either their bodies, or simply the knowledge of their ultimate fates." She slid a datapad across the table to them. "This will be your payment upon successful completion."
Dav picked up the pad and swallowed. "That's... a pretty hefty set of kaseys."
"Additional bonuses or penalties to be assessed as they arise. Because of the contract's scope, until it's completion you're going to have to take this as an exclusive commission."
He nodded slowly, his eyes again going to the numbers on the screen. Twae let him sit in peace as he went over her contract in detail. "Why a core jockey?" he asked finally. "For straight up dick work like this you'd probably be better off hiring a real investigator."
"You might be right, but I have my reasons for wanting a Raven for this job. I think there are greater forces at work here than merely the rivalry of two Core pilots. A Raven, a true Raven, I know I can trust. This is a contract whose topic alone should guarantee me their loyalty. Most importantly, once they taken a contract, a Raven can't be bought."
The bodyguard's eyes were suddenly bright. "Fly fast Raven, fly hard, fly free."
Dav looked at him in surprise. That saying was old, from the days of the Raven's founding, and had been rarely heard even before things had taken a turn for the worst. The bodyguard seemed surprised by his own outburst, and the moment passed.
Twae regained her humor. "There are other considerations as well. A private investigator would have daily expenses, special fees-"
"-hazard pay-"
"-all of which a Core jockey is willing to forgo. Also, I think that this contract will end up taking your places that a Core is best suited to go through. I want you to revisit their old battlefields, the known ones and whatever you dig up along the way. I want you to map their every footstep leading up to the end. You find me where their final showdown was, find me the two of them and Nell, and I'll double the payoff."
"That would make a hellauva stack of Kaseys, but for what?"
"Maybe for nothing mare than an answer that will mean nothing to no one but me, but maybe there'll be far more. In fact, I'm counting on it. The doctor that I was taken to after awakening discovered that I possess a puzzling and thoroughly inexplicable series of cellular and neural abnormalities. My father had something planned for me, I'd like to think something important, maybe something so important that he was killed him for it. And I want to know what that was. My father had backup plans for every possible contingency, except his own death. That's a glaring omission from what I've been able to piece together of him. Another question that I hope you will answer."
The bodyguard spoke up before Twae could go on. "His message to me stated that Nineball had been 'unavoidably delayed' but gave every indication that he would be in contact soon. This is also inconsistent with the Nineball I knew."
"What was his precise message?"
Twae called up a new screen on the datapad and then slid it back to him. He turned it on and was confronted with a few simple lines of text.
_Due to unforeseen circumstances I have been unavoidably delayed. Go
to Tawara City, Section 47, Block C-21, Warehouse 4. There is an
access hatch concealed beneath protein combination press 38. You will
find further instructions within, as well as payment for your
services. I will contact you soon._
-Nineball
Dav tapped the screen with his finger. "You're absolutely sure that this is him?"
"The verification code matched what he'd used before. There was evidence in the lab that he had been working there."
"What about the computers?"
"Mostly medical and diagnostic equipment for running and monitoring the cryo suspension. Above my head anyway."
He looked pointedly at Twae. "So exactly when did he find time in his busy schedule for disappearing to tell you that you were his daughter?"
Twae flushed and for the first time displayed a bit of hesitancy. "I... just know. It feels right."
"I see." Were they hiding anything from him? Probably, but only because he hadn't asked the right questions yet. Twae was being mostly earnest with him; the bodyguard was especially hard to get a read on, but that was to be expected. He wasn't picking up any out right duplicity from either of them.
"The little that Nineball has left for us to find indicated a sense of paternal regard," the bodyguard offered. "The assumption of blood relationship did not seem too far fetched."
"What kind of relations did you have with him in the past? You said that he had used your services before."
"He acquired my services several times for... troubleshooting, problems that he had neither the time nor the inclination to handle himself. The exchanges were always conducted completely by wire. I never even heard his voice."
"You're not giving me a whole lot to go on," Dav said, but his mind was already churning, skills he hadn't used since his police days stirring to life. At that moment he probably had a hundred times the information that any the others who had undertaken this quixotic pursuit had had, plus the full support of perhaps the only two people in the world who could actually help. "I am going to have to insist on having the ability to undertake any additional short term, low risks contracts that I choose."
Twae's voice took on an edge. "For what I'm paying you-."
"-upon completing your contract. There's no guarantee that it won't take me twenty years to do that, if ever. In the meantime I have a Core to make payments on, as well as a hangar fees and other costs. If it makes you feel better I can make monthly data dumps of my progress so that should anything... unfortunate happen to me you'll be able to pass on my results."
"A full dump every week and I'll consider it."
"Fine. I have one more request to make. Let me share this with my A.I. I've built her up with some pretty formidable search and sift programs over the years. She could be a big help in analyzing and correlating whatever I find."
To his surprise it was the bodyguard who responded. "Absolutely not."
Both Twae and Dav looked at him in surprise. "I can assure you," Dav began, a bit nonplussed at having received such a vehement response, "that her data matrix is absolutely secure, and I have absolute faith in her discretion."
"No."
"Well I say 'yes.'" Twae overrode him, slightly petulantly. "I see no reason why we should bar him from using all of his resources."
The bodyguard glowered, but finally conceded to Twae. He did however pluck the reader chips with Twae's medical reports up off the table. "In that case I cannot let him have these. Personalities are simply too easy to dupe, subvert, or reprogram. Another core jockey haring off looking for Nineball is nothing exceptional in and of itself., but if this data slips out and the enemies behind his disappearance learn about it, we, more to the point, you, Ms. Koerbie, will be in great danger."
"You're being overly paranoid," Twae said.
"That's what Nineball hired me for," he growled back.
Dav looked at the bodyguard. "Do you know something that I don't?"
"Of course."
"So what's to keep me from going to your doctor and convincing him for a copy of those records.
"He's dead," Twae answered curtly. "Shortly after my visit, his facilities, the entire building around them as well, was destroyed. You might remember the incident. Two prototype army MTs went rogue and ended up in Isaac City. He office was right in the middle of that. Those chips are the only records left."
"Convenient," Dav grunted.
The bodyguard laughed for the first time. "I think you're greatly over- estimating my capabilities, but I appreciate the compliment."
Dav threw the grin right back at them. "You know, I never did catch your name."
"Nemo," he replied after a couple of beats. Dav waited, but he didn't follow it up with anything else.
"Well then Nemo, I hope you're having as much fun working with me as I am with you."
"Interpret that as you may," Twae interjected, then slid a chip across the table. "Here are the upload codes you'll need to get me the data dump. I'll expect the first in seven days."
Dav slid the chips into his hand. "I'll feed these into my AI and see if she has anything to say about it."
"She?" Twae inquired felicitously
Dav shrugged self-consciously. "I tend towards solitude. The female personality makes for pleasant company." He didn't like talking about Cherry as if she was merely some kind of object, but there were good reasons to make sure people never thought she was more than a simple A.I.
Twae gave him half of a smirk, but whatever comment she had in mind was cut off by a voice from the intercom. "We've hit the Brussell's UG transport locus. If all pilots would please prepare to disembark at this time, we will arrive at our destination in eighteen minutes."
"That's probably meant for me," Dav said. He stretched, stowed the data chips, then sauntered over to the fridge, pulling out the last three cans, tossing one to both Twae and Nemo. "Here's to a successful contract," he said, popping the seal and raising his can to the other two. Twae returned the gesture, and so did Nemo, although he was a beat behind, his expression going slightly sour as he did so.
"I'll show you the door," Nemo said as Dav set his can down.
Dav looked towards the hatch. "I really don't think-"
"I do," Nemo interrupted forcefully.
Twae shrugged helplessly, her expression hidden behind her can as Nemo set himself in Dav's shadow, following him not only to the hatch, but through it.
As soon as the hatch cycled shut behind them, Nemo grabbed Dav by the shoulder, spinning him around, his fingers digging in hard enough to hurt. His other hand closed around Dav's, forcing what felt like a data chip into his palm. "This is the data account I want you to channel your reports through. Do not send them directly to Ms. Koerbie."
"I don't think our mutual employer would be happy to know you're filtering what I'm finding for her," Dav replied through gritted teeth.
Nemo's grip tightened and Dav had to bite his lip to keep quiet. "Ms. Koerbie is not my employer. Nineball is. My job is to protect her from every possible danger, and sometimes that means protecting her from herself. I'm unconvinced that the Ten-Yen Wonder had anything to do with Nineball's disappearance. He was too good for an upstart like Ten-Yen to take down. There was something much bigger behind it, and I think it's still out there. So I go through everything you find first. You try and cut around me and I'll terminate more than your contract. Have we reached an understanding?" Nemo's fingers were squeezing so hard that Dav was sure he heard something in his shoulder crack.
"Got it!" he gasped.
Nemo let go so quickly that Dav staggered back against the wall. "I'm glad that we had this conversation then," Nemo said and turned back to the hatch. Dav remained slumped against the wall for several seconds, fuming, but deciding against doing anything rash. As his arm tingled with the returning rush of blood he hurried back into the Pi's cockpit, eager to put as much distance between him and the bodyguard as possible.
*Author's Note* Yep, that was all one scene. I think that this is the single longest scene that I have ever written - which causes me some trouble, especially when I need to try and break it into discreet parts. Technically, it's not even over yet, but I thought that this chapter was running long, and so relegated Dav getting the hell out of there to chapter three.
"Pay the man," Daveren told Cherry, satisfied with the preliminary check.
"Comply," she responded neutrally.
"Payment received," the driver broadcasted, sounding a great deal friendlier. "Good luck."
"Thanks," Daveren replied as the trailer hatch cracked open and the conveyor propelled the Pi to the ramp and down to the roadbed. He turned, the Pi trundling slowly to the heavy blast doors that cut off the road. Warning signs were plastered over the door and surrounding rock face. "Warning: High Radiation Zone. Authorized Entrance Only"
"Broadcast access codes."
"Comply."
Daveren found himself annoyed by Cherry's flat tone. He found it easy to get annoyed with her when dealing with her Core personality. You simply couldn't fit the hardware for a full AI persona into a combat core, especially if he had to load extra equipment, and paying for the bandwidth access to keep in touch with her real-time from the hanger would be courting a disastrous chance of discovery. So he had to content himself with the company of a mere fragment, and having to listen to that dull, lifeless simulacrum instead of Cherry's usual witty, vibrant, self always set him slightly on edge.
The Pi stepped through the blast doors with unusual preponderance. He'd equipped it with heavy legs and core to carry all the extra armor he'd added on. A full ecm suite occupied the core's computer slots, and a rocket pod occupied each shoulder. He'd forgone hand weapons this time, equipping heavy arms with a large shield attached to each forearm.
He settled into his seat, gnawing a thumbnail as the lift shuddered to life and began its ascent. He had prepared as well as he could, and now he simply had to wait and see if he'd judged the other pilot correctly. Most of the time he managed to hold onto an almost imperturbable aura of cool, but sometimes, the waiting got completely beneath his skin. It'd been more than a month since he'd taken a contract, and funds had been getting really tight. The competition on the contract lists had been ridiculous, and nothing that he'd been willing to take had been tossed his way. An arena battle had seemed like a good way to keep his name in the action, and he always had the option of turning down the contract afterwards if he deemed it unsuitable. It all seemed cut and dry. DnD shouldn't give him more than a moment's pause. Shouldn't. IF he'd read everything right. If.
He tore his thumbnail ragged and kept on gnawing. Cherry always knew how to fix him when he got into these moods, a little flirting, a flash of bodice and a funny line and his funk would be gone. But that was the real Cherry, not the lobotomized half-wit he had with him now. Perspiration trickled down the back of his neck. Despite the fact that it was already cool, he cranked the temperature a few degrees lower. "How are you feeling Cherry?" He wanted to hear her voice, even if it wasn't really her.
"All systems nominal," the onboard personality replied.
Daveren suddenly realized that he hated the Core AI. He loathed it with - "Now entering arena zone," a harsh voice intoned. Daveren tried to wrestle his emotions under control. He couldn't afford to fly off the handle over something so trivial and tried to regain his usual calm detachment. Just before the lift reached ground level his view screen went blank. "Display: systems check," he ordered, alarmed.
The familiar brunette appeared on the screen in front of him. "Hey sailor, sorry that I couldn't be there to see you off, but," she leaned forward, giving him an excellent display of cleavage and blowing him a kiss. "I'll be waiting when you get back." She lifted a pair of glasses and a bottle of champagne into view and winked, and then the screen cleared.
"Thanks Cherry," Daveren said, feeling the turmoil recede to the back of his mind. It amazed him sometimes how well she could read and anticipate him. He settled his hands loosely onto the control sticks, giving the status panels one last check as the lift shuddered to a stop, and a com line opened. "Proceed to the coordinates displayed on your radar. Combat commences at 12:00. You have nine minutes, fifty two seconds and counting to reach your starting position."
DnD was already waiting by time the Pi reached its starting point, with three minutes to spare. The Cores faced each other from opposite ends of a long, narrow road, crumbling buildings blocking them in from both sides. Daveren took the remaining time to size up his opponent. He felt reassured that he had judged the pilot and Core correctly. Both of its arms had been replaced with a double-barreled 100mm machine gun, and Dav was surprised to see a chain canon folded back over each of the Core's shoulders. Its legs looked ridiculously undersized for its weapon load.
"Yeah, it's been plus'd all right." A standard two-legged core, in order to properly balance the recoil of the shoulder cannons would have to kneel before firing. Otherwise it stood an excellent chance of knocking itself onto its back, making heavy cannons impractical for use in high movement conflicts, such as an arena battle, unless the safeties had been overridden.
"Cherry, opponent system check. What's he got?"
"Unable to comply. ECM jamming detailed scan."
"Fair enough. It would've been easier if he'd been a complete idiot."
"Thirty seconds until battle commencement," the voice announced and Dav took a deep breath, watching the timer tick down. He checked the wires in his neck. DnD jittered.
"Go!" the voice announced, and Dav was stunned to see both chain cannons unfold over the other Core's shoulders.
"Duck and cover!" he shouted, the Pi crouching, bringing its forearm shields up to cover its head and torso at the same time the DnD opened fire, with both chain canons and machine guns. "How the hell can he do that?" Dav demanded as impacts rocked the Pi, and armor readouts began flashing amber and red. With buildings blocking him in on both sides there were only two ways he could go. "Backslide," he ordered, the Pi's leg thrusters flaring up and shooting it backwards. The impacts ceased almost immediately and Dav risked looking up, despite the round that still struck occasionally. The DnD was still blazing away with all guns, all the core's thrusters running at full in order to keep the massive recoil from blowing it onto its back.
The guns tried to track as the Pi moved, but the effort of keeping the Core balanced while slaving all four guns was simply more than its computer could handle. Dirk had taken advantage of the lag before start to zero all his cannons on the Pi's starting position, but now that the Core was in motion , his computer was so woefully overtaxed that it simply couldn't keep up with the Pi. Shells smashed into the road, the buildings, all to few actually striking the Pi itself.
Davern continued to slide backwards, keeping just ahead of the DnD's tracking guns. "Overload rockets, cold warheads, hot luanch." The rocket pod on the Pi's right shoulder opened up and Dav sighted along the infrared site, placing it center of the Dnd's torso. He squeezed the trigger and the Pi staggered as the entire pod took flight at once. The DnD stopped firing as soon as the pod flipped over the Pi's shoulder, but it took a second for it to rebalance itself, and when it tried to go evasive, the same narrow street that had aided it before now hemmed it in. Because the warheads were flying cold there were no targeting pulses for the anti- missle system to trace, meaning it had to track and target over a dozen rockets independently and fire counter measures accordingly, all while still recovering from the processor strain of before. Several rockets detonated mid-flight, but the rest impacted against the DnD. Dirk screamed over the radio as the electromagnetic discharges shorted through his systems, the feedback feeding straight into his brain.
"Drawback to plusing. Shouldn't have cut the buffer," Dav said with a certain amount of satisfaction.
The DnD convulsed and spun in a circle, its thrusters firing erratically. The core arched backwards as if it were feeling its pilot's pain, then fired all of its thrusters at once, lifting a few meters off the ground and slamming into the side of a building. The Core fell backwards and lay on its back, waving its double-barreled arms in the air like an overturned beetle. With all of its electronics disrupted Dav could finally get a full scan. "You've cracked half your actuators and blown most of your internal hydraulics. Call it."
"You cheated," Dirk shouted, and spit flecked his lips in the static streaked video window. "Judgement against him! He cheated!"
Dav waited for the warning tone to sound that would indicate the accusation had been acknowledged and was under consideration. When none sounded he cut the link to DnD.
"Balance left," Dav instructed as the Pi stepped up to the prone core. "Field goal," he instructed, feeling the Core's gyros shift slightly. The Pi's right leg drew back then shot forward, connecting solidly with the DnD's well armored head. It flew in a graceful arc, crashing into the upper stories of a leaning skyscraper.
"Death and Destruction has been completely disabled. Victory is awarded to the Cherry Pi," the judges intoned.
Dav allowed himself a shudder as he switched the systems over to normal operations. The feeling of calm fled him completely, sweat springing up along his spine again. His radar picked up a new set of blips as the recovery teams moved into the combat area. Dav waved off assistance. Although his armor had been chewed to hell and back, the actual damage to the Pi was superficial enough that he could wait until he'd gotten back to the garage.
He was surprised when the tone sounded for an incoming message. "Congratulations. Looks like the contract is yours."
"Mrs. Koerbie," Daveren acknowledged, slightly surprised.
"I told you that I'd be watching. Set a course northwest 300°, 15 km."
"That's within the shrapnel zone," Dav said, noting that the location was within the yellow bar on the radar surrounding the combat zone. "Your bodyguard take a pottybreak?"
An unhappy grunt came from the background. "I didn't think that I'd have to worry, and since the closest round impacted 7km away, I think I was justified."
"Are you happy with my performance?"
"I didn't see anything to make me unhappy."
"I don't suppose you're not unhappy enough to toss in for repairs and a new coat of rad paint?"
"Sorry, but no. I can offer you a ride home."
"Only if you've got a big trunk, or-," his voice trailed off as he cleared the combat zone. A transport was waiting for him, ramp open.
"Or what?" Twae prompted.
"I'll just be quiet for a while, if you don't mind." As he guided the Pi into the transport he expected to have to spend the duration of the decontamination sequence in the cockpit. Then he saw the interior. Unlike the transport that he had ridden up in, this one was fully loaded, practically a luxury edition. At the far end of the hanger was a lounge, with a telescoping hatch that would allow him to exit as soon as the Pi was secured. The cost of hiring the transport easily matched repairs and a new coat of rad paint.
"Take a nap baby," Dav instructed Cherry, as the restraints closed on the Pi. The brunette appeared on the screen, blew him a kiss and then pillowed her head on her arms, 'Zs' appearing above her head. Then the screen and the lights dimmed, and a clang came from the Pi's exterior as the hatch connected.
Dav blinked at the bright lights as he stepped into the lounge. Twae was seated at the far end, a satellite view of the battle playing on the screen in front of her. Her bodyguard was standing at her side, a disapproving glare directed at him from the moment he entered.
"Excellent performance," Twae complimented without looking around. She zoomed the image out to view both cores. "A lot of jockeys would've panicked coming under fire that heavy." She froze the playback at the point where the Pi raised its arms to cover itself. "Instead you keep a level head, get a grip on the situation and neutralize your opponent." She resumed the playback, watching it through to the end. "When he refused to concede, it was within the rules for you to simply unload on his core and kill him."
Dav shrugged, still on his guard. "This was business, and unnecessary killing makes for bad blood."
Twae turned off the display. "Intelligence, and enough level-headedness to be mistaken for compassion. Rare traits in a mercenary pilot these days."
"Being a Raven doesn't mean what it used to," Daveren said neutrally.
Twae leaned forward, her eyes intent. "Which touches upon the heart of what I want to hire you for. Refreshment?" she asked suddenly. Without waiting for an answer she snapped her fingers and the bodyguard opened the fridge, tossing a can to Dav.
He caught it then immediately set it down on the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know, what am I getting into? Don't think me too ungrateful, but all you've given me so far is a ride home, a pretty face, and a lot of meaningless talk, that sounds big, but just how big could it be if you're willing to make it the prize of an arena toss up?"
Twae leaned back in her seat, again all business. "I need a Raven for this contract." She took a deep breath, but before she could speak again Dav interrupted.
"Which narrows the candidate pool down to two-thirds of the core jockeys out there. You want someone who can fight, just look at the records."
Twae's eyes flashed, but she kept her temper. "Alright, that little turd got under my skin, and I figured you'd put him in his place but good. I already had my eye in your direction, he just made me alter my approach."
Dav twirled his finger idly around the edge of the can. "Approach for what?"
"You just said that being a Raven doesn't mean what it used to. What did you mean by that?" she asked, dodging around his question.
Dav stared at her for a second, then decided to play her game. "That kid back there is a perfect example of what I meant. When I joined the Ravens eight years ago, someone like him wouldn't have even got an admission trial. But eight years was a long time ago, and the Raven's have really fallen apart. Ever since-."
"-four years ago, when Lana Nielson disappeared. And Nineball."
"And the Ten-Yen Wonder," Dav added. "Something happened between Ten-Yen and Nineball, something bad, something that escalated to the point where Ten-Yen left the Ravens and went on contract with Progtech. And Nineball started taking missions that sent him after Progtech. And then without warning or a whimper thereafter, they both just disappear, and somehow take Lana along with them. We all though that she was just the Raven's recruiter and contract contact, but when she disappeared, the entire organization collapsed. We had to rebuild and run everything ourselves, and it's never been the same. The admission trials are a joke. All you have to do is shell over enough kaseys and you're in. What does that have to do with the job?"
"I need a dick," Twae said straight-faced.
"You seem to have a perfectly good one right there," Dav said, rising to the bait, directing his glance towards her bodyguard., whose perpetual scowl deepened.
"One of the things in your record that caught my eye was that you've done investigative work in the past."
"And you want to hire me to find out what happened to Nineball, Lana, and Ten-Yen. A lot of people have tried to do that in the past. A lot of people have failed. How are you any different?"
"Nineball was my father."
Dav stared at her for a few moments. "I see," he said finally.
Anger crossed Twae's features for the first time. "You don't believe me."
"I don't not believe you. I've heard stranger things, and nothing comes to mind to immediately contradict your claim."
"Did you ever meet him?"
"I worked with him a few times, against him a couple of times too, but he was never anything more than a voice over the radio. No one ever met him face to face, but that wasn't so unusual back then with the way Lana ran things. She ran almost every 'tract and interaction by wire. At least half the Ravens never showed their faces, either by inclination or happenstance."
"I may not look it, Mr. Connell, but I'm only two years old."
The bodyguard finally spoke up. "I had done some specialized work for Nineball in the past, well enough that I apparently gained his faith. Three years ago I received instructions from him, along with a substantial sum." Dav stared to speak, but the bodyguard held up his hand. "It was an automated message, a fail safe of some sort. It sent me to a derelict warehouse in Tawara, where I found a hidden laboratory with Ms. Koerbie just coming out of cryo suspension."
Twae broke in at that point. "My first memories are of being lifted from the suspension bed. Unlike most, I had to get accustomed to walking and talking after my body was fully grown. The instructions that my father had left indicated that he thought he would be coming back. In the interim he left me a formidable finical reserve, but not much else."
"I see," Dav said thoughtfully. "And what are the terms of your contract?"
"I want you to find Lana Nielson, the Ten-Yen Wonder, or Nineball. Find out what connected them, and how it tied to my father. I will be satisfied with either their bodies, or simply the knowledge of their ultimate fates." She slid a datapad across the table to them. "This will be your payment upon successful completion."
Dav picked up the pad and swallowed. "That's... a pretty hefty set of kaseys."
"Additional bonuses or penalties to be assessed as they arise. Because of the contract's scope, until it's completion you're going to have to take this as an exclusive commission."
He nodded slowly, his eyes again going to the numbers on the screen. Twae let him sit in peace as he went over her contract in detail. "Why a core jockey?" he asked finally. "For straight up dick work like this you'd probably be better off hiring a real investigator."
"You might be right, but I have my reasons for wanting a Raven for this job. I think there are greater forces at work here than merely the rivalry of two Core pilots. A Raven, a true Raven, I know I can trust. This is a contract whose topic alone should guarantee me their loyalty. Most importantly, once they taken a contract, a Raven can't be bought."
The bodyguard's eyes were suddenly bright. "Fly fast Raven, fly hard, fly free."
Dav looked at him in surprise. That saying was old, from the days of the Raven's founding, and had been rarely heard even before things had taken a turn for the worst. The bodyguard seemed surprised by his own outburst, and the moment passed.
Twae regained her humor. "There are other considerations as well. A private investigator would have daily expenses, special fees-"
"-hazard pay-"
"-all of which a Core jockey is willing to forgo. Also, I think that this contract will end up taking your places that a Core is best suited to go through. I want you to revisit their old battlefields, the known ones and whatever you dig up along the way. I want you to map their every footstep leading up to the end. You find me where their final showdown was, find me the two of them and Nell, and I'll double the payoff."
"That would make a hellauva stack of Kaseys, but for what?"
"Maybe for nothing mare than an answer that will mean nothing to no one but me, but maybe there'll be far more. In fact, I'm counting on it. The doctor that I was taken to after awakening discovered that I possess a puzzling and thoroughly inexplicable series of cellular and neural abnormalities. My father had something planned for me, I'd like to think something important, maybe something so important that he was killed him for it. And I want to know what that was. My father had backup plans for every possible contingency, except his own death. That's a glaring omission from what I've been able to piece together of him. Another question that I hope you will answer."
The bodyguard spoke up before Twae could go on. "His message to me stated that Nineball had been 'unavoidably delayed' but gave every indication that he would be in contact soon. This is also inconsistent with the Nineball I knew."
"What was his precise message?"
Twae called up a new screen on the datapad and then slid it back to him. He turned it on and was confronted with a few simple lines of text.
_Due to unforeseen circumstances I have been unavoidably delayed. Go
to Tawara City, Section 47, Block C-21, Warehouse 4. There is an
access hatch concealed beneath protein combination press 38. You will
find further instructions within, as well as payment for your
services. I will contact you soon._
-Nineball
Dav tapped the screen with his finger. "You're absolutely sure that this is him?"
"The verification code matched what he'd used before. There was evidence in the lab that he had been working there."
"What about the computers?"
"Mostly medical and diagnostic equipment for running and monitoring the cryo suspension. Above my head anyway."
He looked pointedly at Twae. "So exactly when did he find time in his busy schedule for disappearing to tell you that you were his daughter?"
Twae flushed and for the first time displayed a bit of hesitancy. "I... just know. It feels right."
"I see." Were they hiding anything from him? Probably, but only because he hadn't asked the right questions yet. Twae was being mostly earnest with him; the bodyguard was especially hard to get a read on, but that was to be expected. He wasn't picking up any out right duplicity from either of them.
"The little that Nineball has left for us to find indicated a sense of paternal regard," the bodyguard offered. "The assumption of blood relationship did not seem too far fetched."
"What kind of relations did you have with him in the past? You said that he had used your services before."
"He acquired my services several times for... troubleshooting, problems that he had neither the time nor the inclination to handle himself. The exchanges were always conducted completely by wire. I never even heard his voice."
"You're not giving me a whole lot to go on," Dav said, but his mind was already churning, skills he hadn't used since his police days stirring to life. At that moment he probably had a hundred times the information that any the others who had undertaken this quixotic pursuit had had, plus the full support of perhaps the only two people in the world who could actually help. "I am going to have to insist on having the ability to undertake any additional short term, low risks contracts that I choose."
Twae's voice took on an edge. "For what I'm paying you-."
"-upon completing your contract. There's no guarantee that it won't take me twenty years to do that, if ever. In the meantime I have a Core to make payments on, as well as a hangar fees and other costs. If it makes you feel better I can make monthly data dumps of my progress so that should anything... unfortunate happen to me you'll be able to pass on my results."
"A full dump every week and I'll consider it."
"Fine. I have one more request to make. Let me share this with my A.I. I've built her up with some pretty formidable search and sift programs over the years. She could be a big help in analyzing and correlating whatever I find."
To his surprise it was the bodyguard who responded. "Absolutely not."
Both Twae and Dav looked at him in surprise. "I can assure you," Dav began, a bit nonplussed at having received such a vehement response, "that her data matrix is absolutely secure, and I have absolute faith in her discretion."
"No."
"Well I say 'yes.'" Twae overrode him, slightly petulantly. "I see no reason why we should bar him from using all of his resources."
The bodyguard glowered, but finally conceded to Twae. He did however pluck the reader chips with Twae's medical reports up off the table. "In that case I cannot let him have these. Personalities are simply too easy to dupe, subvert, or reprogram. Another core jockey haring off looking for Nineball is nothing exceptional in and of itself., but if this data slips out and the enemies behind his disappearance learn about it, we, more to the point, you, Ms. Koerbie, will be in great danger."
"You're being overly paranoid," Twae said.
"That's what Nineball hired me for," he growled back.
Dav looked at the bodyguard. "Do you know something that I don't?"
"Of course."
"So what's to keep me from going to your doctor and convincing him for a copy of those records.
"He's dead," Twae answered curtly. "Shortly after my visit, his facilities, the entire building around them as well, was destroyed. You might remember the incident. Two prototype army MTs went rogue and ended up in Isaac City. He office was right in the middle of that. Those chips are the only records left."
"Convenient," Dav grunted.
The bodyguard laughed for the first time. "I think you're greatly over- estimating my capabilities, but I appreciate the compliment."
Dav threw the grin right back at them. "You know, I never did catch your name."
"Nemo," he replied after a couple of beats. Dav waited, but he didn't follow it up with anything else.
"Well then Nemo, I hope you're having as much fun working with me as I am with you."
"Interpret that as you may," Twae interjected, then slid a chip across the table. "Here are the upload codes you'll need to get me the data dump. I'll expect the first in seven days."
Dav slid the chips into his hand. "I'll feed these into my AI and see if she has anything to say about it."
"She?" Twae inquired felicitously
Dav shrugged self-consciously. "I tend towards solitude. The female personality makes for pleasant company." He didn't like talking about Cherry as if she was merely some kind of object, but there were good reasons to make sure people never thought she was more than a simple A.I.
Twae gave him half of a smirk, but whatever comment she had in mind was cut off by a voice from the intercom. "We've hit the Brussell's UG transport locus. If all pilots would please prepare to disembark at this time, we will arrive at our destination in eighteen minutes."
"That's probably meant for me," Dav said. He stretched, stowed the data chips, then sauntered over to the fridge, pulling out the last three cans, tossing one to both Twae and Nemo. "Here's to a successful contract," he said, popping the seal and raising his can to the other two. Twae returned the gesture, and so did Nemo, although he was a beat behind, his expression going slightly sour as he did so.
"I'll show you the door," Nemo said as Dav set his can down.
Dav looked towards the hatch. "I really don't think-"
"I do," Nemo interrupted forcefully.
Twae shrugged helplessly, her expression hidden behind her can as Nemo set himself in Dav's shadow, following him not only to the hatch, but through it.
As soon as the hatch cycled shut behind them, Nemo grabbed Dav by the shoulder, spinning him around, his fingers digging in hard enough to hurt. His other hand closed around Dav's, forcing what felt like a data chip into his palm. "This is the data account I want you to channel your reports through. Do not send them directly to Ms. Koerbie."
"I don't think our mutual employer would be happy to know you're filtering what I'm finding for her," Dav replied through gritted teeth.
Nemo's grip tightened and Dav had to bite his lip to keep quiet. "Ms. Koerbie is not my employer. Nineball is. My job is to protect her from every possible danger, and sometimes that means protecting her from herself. I'm unconvinced that the Ten-Yen Wonder had anything to do with Nineball's disappearance. He was too good for an upstart like Ten-Yen to take down. There was something much bigger behind it, and I think it's still out there. So I go through everything you find first. You try and cut around me and I'll terminate more than your contract. Have we reached an understanding?" Nemo's fingers were squeezing so hard that Dav was sure he heard something in his shoulder crack.
"Got it!" he gasped.
Nemo let go so quickly that Dav staggered back against the wall. "I'm glad that we had this conversation then," Nemo said and turned back to the hatch. Dav remained slumped against the wall for several seconds, fuming, but deciding against doing anything rash. As his arm tingled with the returning rush of blood he hurried back into the Pi's cockpit, eager to put as much distance between him and the bodyguard as possible.
*Author's Note* Yep, that was all one scene. I think that this is the single longest scene that I have ever written - which causes me some trouble, especially when I need to try and break it into discreet parts. Technically, it's not even over yet, but I thought that this chapter was running long, and so relegated Dav getting the hell out of there to chapter three.
