A/N: After a long hiatus, I decided to come back and fix up this story. And, seriously? This... this needed some serious, serious overhaul. I apologize to everyone that lost interest in this, or that was disappointed and wanted me to continue. I had to go through some... pretty hard stuff last year, and well, it didn't clear up until the start of this summer. Anyway, that's no real excuse, but I'm trying, and I'll try to finish this story. It shouldn't be too much longer, anyway, after I'm done updating/uploading all the new replacement chapters.
Warning: This is a CYBERPUNK AU (Alternate Universe), heavily inspired by Ocarina of Time, but not a parody/mirror/whatever. By cyberpunk, I am including dark themes, suggestive material (including but not limited to: drug use, horny teenagers, unorthodox violence, excessive cursing, and addiction/dependency). If this bothers you, if you are underaged, there is a button at the top of your screen that stands for BACK. I suggest you use it.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of any copyright holder. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Chapter 2 - Boosts
"Boosts," Link echoed incredulously, his patience short and his frustration high. He stood in a small storage compartment of an abandoned train that had run the old rail lines before the city switched to magnetic power years ago. In front of him stood Cyprus, a wiry tanned man with long bony fingers that reminded Link of the bare branches of trees he saw in some old pixelgraphs once upon a time.
Except those trees looked dry, whereas this guy's skin was so yellow he resembled the poisonous weeds of Basement Level Forty Seven, and his bald head produced enough oil to grease a rusted over steam-powered machine. Not to mention the man's face was stuck in a pinched expression, as if he perpetually suffered from consuming something far too sour for his body to handle. Yeah, Link mused, Cyprus fit the name all right.
"That's right ol' buddy ol' pal o' mine. Boosts! The numba one wanted piece on the market. It's what everyone wants and it's what we got, and what we got is you, our numero uno transporter t'get the goods to the location destination, man. You dig?"
Link shrugged noncommittally. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?" He cut off Cyprus' inevitable reply by tossing the five packs of capsules none-too-delicately into a protective black Security Box designed by Link himself.
"This mind burn business is going to get you killed someday, Cyprus." He added as an afterthought while tossing the box into a pack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he headed out past the broken metal doors held open by a crowbar.
"Hold on Link, my man, hold on," Cyprus called out after him, his body hanging through a side window that was missing its glass pane. Link continued to walk. "You were one o' them kids that were plugged in, right?"
Those words stopped Link in his tracks. He didn't chance turning back yet, what with his emotions bubbling under the surface.
"Yea man, yea. I thought it was a joke, but you know, I hadda ask."
:: Link, breathe :: Navi instructed directly into the nerves that processed his hearing.
And Link did breathe, slow and deep, as he turned around and said simply, "Drop it, Cyprus." His voice was steady, almost bored, though he was using most of his energy to control his temper. Cyprus' thin eyebrows arched upwards as his thin lips pressed together in a half smile.
Then he spoke again with a wave of his skinny hand: "Hey man, hey. No harm, no foul. Peace, man. Your secret is your man Cyprus' secret, too. Cool, cool. But you know, you oughtta wonder, who knew before your buddy pal here?"
"What?"
"Hey man, c'mon. Go deliver the cream to the ice-cream man, then when you get back we can have this little chat in depth, mano-a-mano. Cool?" When Link didn't reply, the man clapped his hands together and laughed, though it sounded more like a high pitched squeal.
"Groovy, man." Cyprus pulled back and disappeared into the train car, completely out of Link's sight.
The teenager sighed and moved back to his original course of direction. Which was easier said than done, since he was in the center of one of the oldest train yards in the Lower Grounds. These trains were decommissioned, though he felt the word dead was a bit more accurate. The only lights in the area were emitted from dying LED lamps, ones that everything in a sickly green glow, and hung suspended from the sides of the broken down metal compartments and casting. He had to be careful—one slip and he'd likely land impaled on a loose piece of rebar.
:: There is something going on in Alpha Network's frequency :: Navi whispered to him from the holographic image standing on his shoulder. Though he knew it was impossible, he could've sworn he felt her projected hands grab hold of his ear. The feeling bugged him, like an itch he couldn't scratch. And as much as he wanted to care about what she was saying, he suddenly noticed the two huge half android half human guides—Cyprus' guard dogs—flank him as he continued his trek to the exit.
:: Link, listen! :: she hissed, but his only reply was to scratch the goddamn itch, and swatted her with an open hand. She yelled as her holographic image shattered into thousands of glittery specs of light.
It would take her at least twenty minutes to regenerate the energy to cast another hologram, Link knew. Still, he had more things to worry about than the emotional protocol of his Navi bugging out to preprogrammed paranoia and mistranslated radio frequencies. For one, he needed to know who'd started the rumors, and two, how'd they discovered the truth. All his identi-files were either erased from the System, or stored in air tight, offline containers—both actions which he had done himself nearly four years ago. So hell, no one should've known. No one except…
No. He wouldn't go there.
Link slowly climbed over a particularly large piece of crashed train, the distraction causing him to lag a bit behind the guides—dogs—that seemed to have passed him on the way. Not that it mattered much who was in front or who was behind since they couldn't think for themselves, metal or not. And seeing as how he was carrying some pretty expensive merchandise, they couldn't exactly lay a hand on him either.
Not that they'd be able to if he wasn't protected by this brain burning shit, but still. He could at least admit to himself that no, he did not enjoy kicking the crap out of others, but he definitely did not sit around and let others kick the crap out of him, either.
SLAM went the boundary doors as the solid steel shut behind him, locking in the train yard and locking him, as well as the rest of Lower Grounds, out. He stared at the wall, and then looked out over the broken, sad excuse of a neighborhood in front of him. Buildings older than the trains in the yard he just left. Streets grimy and covered in a muck that could only be described as condensed smog. He faintly wondered how Saria and the other perma-children could stand working for Cyprus.
The tip of his boot connected with a can as he walked down the center of the road. Sure, he knew Cyprus was far better than the jobs down in the Red Light District, but it was still modern slavery no matter how you looked at it. And he'd been looking at it from every angle for most of his free life. Of course, that wasn't really saying much since said life began only four years ago. But that was neither here nor there, and he refused to continue that line of thought.
:: Link!:: the shrill voice of his pissed off Navi hissed directly into his system. :: Listen! ::
He flinched, but kept on walking.
:: There is something strange on Alpha Network's Frequency ::
"There is something strange on Alpha Network's Frequency," he mimicked in a high-pitched whine, irritation evident in his voice but not his expression. "I know that. But can you tell me if it isn't a glitch again?"
At the silence on Navi's end, he sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I didn't get all the parts I needed to repair you, Nav. Tomorrow I'll replace your receivers… Hell, if you're extra nice and I'm extra lucky, I'll be able to update your RAM."
There was silence as he climbed through what had to be the collapsed remains of a roller rink when Navi crackled :: Really? ::
The breath Link didn't know he was holding escaped him in a relieved halfhearted chuckle.
"Really," he replied, and readjusted the pack slung around his shoulders as he kicked aside the debris in front of the exit.
