The anger that Crypto felt toward the Syndicate didn't neutralize the intense feeling of unease as he entered that all-too-familiar room. Most of the equipment was powered down now. The overhead lights had been turned off, leaving the floor-level lighting to cast eerie shadows over the machinery.
Though the other members of his group were right in front of him, he felt incredibly alone. Cade and Revenant were looking for potential threats; Torc and Wattson were marveling at technological advances. They were at his side, but they didn't see what he saw.
One of his cloned bodies was lying supine on a medical table. This one was fresh from the bioprinter; not yet made to look like his present-day self with shorter hair and cybernetic neural implants. Watching it breathe in an automated rhythm with its neutral expression, he felt like he was looking through a ripple in time at a past version of himself. First his skin was crawling uncomfortably, then his core burned with white-hot fury that spread through him at lightning speed. He wanted to set fire to the building– destroy all evidence of that all-too-perfect replica of his past self… It was a lie, it was a better version of him that he envied, and it was a symbol of a life that he desperately wanted back, all at once. The hacker stood frozen in place, unable to look away– until Revenant threw a tarp over the clone, hiding it from sight. Crypto took a couple of shaky breaths. The overwhelming cyclone of emotions finally began to dissipate.
"I don't– it's–" He stumbled over his words, unsure of how to come close to describing what he was thinking.
"I know," the assassin growled in a low tone. "Keep moving."
Head tilted slightly downward, Crypto nodded. "Thanks."
Revenant grunted dismissively and moved ahead. Wattson slowed her pace to fall in line with the hacker. She glanced at him, and then away, awkwardly.
"I'm– sorry that this is difficult for you, Crypto."
He exhaled heavily as he turned toward her, eyebrows knit together. "You're truly comfortable with– knowing that the Syndicate has the power to copy you– that you could be obliterated, and replaced with– with…?"
"My papa helped build the arena, you know," Wattson replied thoughtfully. "He didn't work on the biomedical research, but– we knew about it. I grew up learning all about the Syndicate's technology. To me, it has always been there, and– now that he's gone, it makes me feel close to him."
She looked away from the hacker, clenching her jaw. From an early age, she'd been taught to think of the Syndicate as a comforting presence; a community that ensured she would always be protected, and her father would always make it home safe from the lawlessness of Solace. Now, she wondered how many people who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time - people like Crypto - had been sacrificed for her security.
She and her father had worked on so many inventions to improve the quality of life for citizens of the Outlands– only for the Syndicate to turn those inventions into weapons. The engineer hated herself for not having understood sooner: they had never cared about her. She'd only ever been a means to an end, a tool that helped them maintain power…
She was vaguely aware of the soft whirr of Crypto's drone beside her. Something metal clattered to the ground up ahead. It was followed by an angry shout, then Torc's level voice calling, "Take it easy, Cade!"
The enforcer had torn a drawer off its rails, flinging its contents - attachment tools for the automated robot arms that did most of the work in this facility - all over the smooth, white floor. Some were rolling away, resulting in a soft scraping noise that made Crypto think of spiders skittering across the warehouse– not a mental image that he particularly wanted. Compared to what they really kept in this building, though, spiders could have been cute and cuddly.
"It isn't right," Cade snapped. "Us doing this while the rest of society in Solace City just drags on like everything is okay. Not even just the humans– other cyborgs, who are one broken part away from ending up like this… They keep their heads down, keep serving the Syndicate anyway. Why, man? Why do things have to be this way? What's it gonna take for everyone else to get up and do something?"
He picked up one of the tools that had fallen on the ground, turned it over in his hand, and tossed it away with a frustrated scoff. This situation was so unjust… If he tried to convince any random stranger of that, though, Cade knew that their response would be along the lines of, Life isn't fair. Rebellion is childish and pointless.
Most people, he thought, couldn't tell the difference between the unfairness of random chance, and a deliberate choice to harm, made by a government power. That was worse than the Syndicate– the millions of apathetic bystanders who did nothing, and judged him for taking action.
"Well– the Syndicate ensures those conditions," replied Torc. The cylindrical tool that Cade had thrown rolled across the floor and came to a stop at his feet– the scientist bent down and picked it up, twirling it idly in his fingers as he spoke. "Many of them don't know any better. Some feel that they have too much to lose. The government provides just enough freedom and just enough security for the average citizen to cling to their comfort, rather than risk what little they do have for a chance at a better life."
"If– if I'd known sooner," Wattson cut in, "I would have done more to help."
"So would I."
Crypto nodded solemnly. "I never knew what they were capable of– until my sister stumbled into their conspiracy by accident. Now that I do, I won't give up until we break the system."
He looked at the others with conviction, and did his best to suppress his shaky breathing. When he was a child, growing up on the streets with nobody he could rely on but his sister, a comfortable life in society had felt like a distant dream. Against the odds, he and Mila had made it there– respected software engineers, cozy apartment, stable life… only for the Syndicate to take all of that away in the span of twenty-four hours. The hacker had thought about that a lot over the past week.
There was no certainty in the world they'd built.
"Where's the sim? Don't tell me he took off. I was starting to think we might be able to trust him." Cade looked around the room and rolled his eyes. Revenant had vanished from the rest of the group's line of sight. Crypto smiled, and held up his mini-computer for the others to see. It displayed the feed from his drone, which was idle somewhere else in the massive warehouse, watching the assassin walk across the top of a scaffolding.
"No– he didn't take off," the programmer replied with a slight edge of amusement to his tone. "Just ensuring that no guards or agents get the drop on us."
Cade clicked his tongue - a vague way of indicating that he understood, while revealing nothing of his thoughts - and turned away from the others. He headed deeper into the facility, searching every cabinet, bin, and conveyor belt. Now his actions were methodical– less forceful, less driven by frustration. Torc nodded in approval.
"This is what we're looking for," the scientist said to the others. Two holographic screens opened in front of him– he dragged words from a list on the left screen over to the right screen, where they expanded into 3D models of the parts needed to rebuild Cade's charger.
Crypto and Wattson quickly glanced over the displays, then looked at each other with conviction. They both had the technical knowledge to identify the components and recognize them on sight. The hacker opened a tote– seeing that it only contained hex sockets, he closed it and moved onto the next area. Wattson started to walk away to another section of the vast, industrial expanse… Before she had taken more than a couple of steps, she stopped herself.
"We should… stay together," she told the others hesitantly. "Just in case– something happens. I– this is an automated factory. It might not follow worker safety procedures."
The engineer was terrible at lying, as she was well aware. Her mind was wired for analysis, not fantasy. That was why the statement used to hide her real reasoning had its own objective point. In truth, she didn't want Crypto to be alone in this building, with the Syndicate research that terrified him– but if she said those words, there was a chance that it could be misinterpreted as a criticism of his mental fortitude. She was trying to avoid that.
"You know, that is an astute observation. Yes; I suggest that we all stay within line of sight of each other."
Conveniently for her, Torc was just as bad at lying - and picking up on partial truths - as she was. With his support, the other two didn't question her inconsistent body language or tone of voice. Cade had stepped away and begun searching through a crate beside a deactivated robot, mindful that he was still within Torc's sight. Wattson began looking through the cabinets opposite the enforcer.
"Forklift accident."
The engineer turned toward the sound of Cade's voice. "Pardon?"
"Back at the command center, you asked what happened to me," he grunted. "Sorry to disappoint you, kid– I don't have some cool war story. A fucking forklift toppled over, and it crushed the right side of my body. That's why I've got all the cybernetics."
Wattson nodded. "You don't– need to tell me about it, if– if you'd rather not."
"It's whatever," muttered the enforcer. He upended the contents of a tote onto the warehouse floor with a loud clatter that made Wattson clench her jaw. "I don't really care if people know about it. Just hate that it's all anyone ever wants to know– like that one day defines my entire life or something."
"I… understand."
The fingers of her right hand wrapped around her left arm, where the sleeve of her jacket concealed the worst of the vicious scarring from her own mishap. She, too, would much rather be defined by the success of her invention than the injuries that had resulted from it.
Cade made eye contact with her. She quickly looked away– then, realizing that it was meant as a gesture of solidarity rather than aggression, the engineer met his eyes and smiled.
"Hey, uh–" The enforcer sighed sheepishly. "You're an electrical engineer, right? Can you come over here for a sec and tell me if any of these transformers is the right voltage? I'm– like, not always the best with hardware. Software's more my thing."
"Pas de problème," Wattson replied with enthusiasm. "Well– there are a lot of engineers who aren't very hands-on, too. It has never made sense to me. I am– connected to the things I design…"
She shook her head in confusion as she looked through the various power transformers and induction coils that Cade had dumped on the floor. Some were in plastic cases; others were loose and had possibly been used before. The engineer hummed quietly to herself while setting aside several that wouldn't work. Torc came up beside her and sat cross-legged on the floor– he moved some of the parts she'd sorted into an empty tote.
"These will be useful to rebuild some of the equipment that was in our command center," he explained in response to Wattson's inquisitive look. "Once Cade is out of his predicament, I'd like to get our surveillance systems back online, to start with."
"We've got no one left to run surveillance," Cade muttered. "Even if the rest of our people got away and aren't sitting in a Syndicate prison right now - which is already a big if - who's gonna trust us anymore?"
"Ah– I think a lot of people will. We could make a thousand mistakes in a day and we'd still be more trustworthy than our government!" Torc winked. He stood and picked up his tote, stifling a grunt under the weight of the components he'd added to it. Wattson stepped around him and held up a square metal device with a coil of copper wire set into either end.
"Here, Cade. According to Torc's specifications, this is what you need."
The enforcer took it from her, briefly looked it over, and passed it to his other hand, where he kept a firm grip to ensure that it wouldn't get lost. "Thanks."
"Give that to me," said Torc. He leaned awkwardly and balanced the tote he was holding on his thigh so that he could extend one hand. "I'm going to load this stuff up– might as well bring it along."
Wordlessly, Cade handed it over.
"Hold on," Crypto called out. His tone carried a clear inflection of worry. The circuit boards and processors he'd been looking through lay forgotten on the table in front of him. As he watched the drone's feed, it appeared to the others that he was intently focused on thin air.
"There's someone here. Only one, as far as I can tell, but–"
The hacker fell silent as the heavy thud and clink of steel-toed boots on the overhead scaffolding sounded. It was faint at first– quickly drawing closer… A metallic scraping followed, sharp and drawn out over several seconds. The group looked up at the walkway, and as the figure stepped into the light, they could see why: he had a cybernetic left arm, yellow and gunmetal gray with visible tensioned cables and sharp claws for fingers, which he was slowly dragging over the railing while he walked. Wires and cables attached to the side of his head traveled behind his ear and down the back of his neck. Circuit trace covered that side of his neck and part of his jaw as well– the amount of modifications this man had were extreme, even to Cade and Torc.
He turned, leaning his elbows on the railing with his forearms hanging over in a surprisingly casual gesture. A strand of his black hair fell in front of his right eye– also a cybernetic replacement, and surrounded by heavy scars which distorted that side of his face. The number of chevrons and service ribbons on his uniform indicated a high rank and a long career of service to the Syndicate. Looking down at Crypto and the others from his position on the overhead walkway, he smiled– a creepy smile, warped by his facial scars, accompanied by a cold, dead look in his one human eye.
"Surrender, Mr. Park," he said calmly. "We need not be enemies."
The hacker stood frozen in place. "You're–"
"You can call me Dyson," the man supplied. "Director of Covert Operations."
The modulation was absent now, but Crypto recognized that voice instantly: it also belonged to the automaton that had ambushed him when they'd attacked the prison transport; one and the same.