CYBORG.
BY
Ben Neel.
Chapter 1.
Darkness. No sound. Then suddenly.
"Err. What the hell." A male voice groaned.
"Tyler. Can you hear me?" A muffled female voice echoed in the darkness.
Another deep groan rang out.
"Tyler if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes." The muffled voice said.
The sound of rusty hinges squeaked out as the man struggled to open his eyes. As soon as a crack in the darkness started to appear a blinding rush of light came screaming in. Or rather the man was screaming. He clamped his eyes shut and held them closed as strongly as he could.
"Tyler," the female said, "I need you to open your eyes again."
"It hurts!" He called out.
"I know it does, but you need to open your eyes for me." The nurse explained, "The best way is to just open your eyes as wide as possible, as fast as possible. It will hurt but only for a second. Please." She begged.
Tyler breathed in deep then shot his eyes open. A groan of anger escaped his mouth. Or rather what is now his mouth.
Tyler wasn't in a hospital that you'd normally go to. He was in a special hospital that performs only one kind of procedure, total body prosthesis. Normally someone in Tyler's' position, a low-level warehouse worker, would never be able to afford the procedure. But thanks to his company provided health insurance Tyler now has his very own Cybernetic Body, or CB, as their called by racists.
Unfortunately, it's not a top-of-the-line CyBo like the ones you see on late night television. This one had its kinks. As Tyler was finding out right now.
BAM!
Tyler fell onto the ground again. His cyborg limbs creaked and groaned as he tried to get back up. He strained and groaned as he forced his heavy body to move. A severe case of claustrophobia set in. He remembered to try to not blink. Now that his eyes were fake, they no longer needed to be moist, thus no need to blink. That was one of the many things he was now forced to live with. Eating, sleeping, and even pooping were now things of the past for Tyler. There were mods you could install to mimic those activities, but they were way outside Tyler's price range. For now, he was stuck in this rusting piece of shit the company claims is "the most they could do".
Tyler knew that was bullshit. He worked for the largest shipping company in the world. They made trillions in profit last year. They can't even provide a basic model or the option to opt out of flesh to steel transference.
Three months ago, Tyler was a meat and fat, flesh and blood, human. He was loading packages into a cargo trailer like he does every day. His back was to the opening, so he didn't see the malfunctioning conveyor belt coming at him. He did however feel his spine snap and the boxes crushing him.
The company has a policy, "Any near-fatal accidents involving company equipment, and not due to operator error, shall be compensated with a free transfer to a Cyborg Body, in leu of financial". That's a fancy way of saying, "If you nearly die on the job, we'll give you a new body and you can't sue".
Tyler was pissed at this. He had nothing against people who go through with the procedure, but he never wanted to. Not only was a half-decent model way outside his price range, but the idea of replacing his god given flesh with subhuman metal was blaspheme. He remembered the days when Cyborg Body was announced. Thousands protested. "Inhuman" they screamed. "Abomination" they said. Tyler didn't share their opinion, but he voted for that side. Now he was something he hated.
It took another month before he could stand upright and walk. A week later he was discharged. The hospital, as directed by the insurance company, only got you to the point of walking out the front door under your own power. Anything more had to be paid for out of pocket. Tyler's pockets were empty. He didn't even have pockets.
He struggled through the long walk back home. A coworker had promised to pick him up, but he never arrived. Tyler wasn't surprised. He wasn't particularly close with any of his fellow peasants. Nor has he a female companion. He wanted one. He wasn't ugly by any definition. He worked out regularly and ate sensibly, and his job kept him active enough to maintain a decent figure. It was just, women don't seem to go for the blue-collar worker. So down he went. He miss judged the height of the next step on the stairs leading to his apartment and took another tumble.
His coordination was shot. Not only were his new limbs heavier, they also were slightly longer. His whole body was. His once five-foot nine and a half frame was now an even six feet. This was the default height for males. Females were always allowed to select their height, and even their weight, bust size, and bum size. Men got screwed again. Of course, the odds of a female getting injured enough to warrant a full body transfer were slim to none, so there was that.
And here he was, finally. His apartment. Four and a half months and it hasn't changed a bit. The building itself was owned by the same company he worked for, so he wasn't worried about rent. They were charged based on credit and you can work extra and earn enough credits to cover it if you're gone unexpectedly. Tyler regularly worked overtime so he had enough credits to cover his hospital stay but just barely. It took him eight years to accumulate that many and a fraction of that time to lose it. Worse, he had work tomorrow.
Chapter 2.
"Hey. Hey. Hey. There he is." A studly built black man ran up and bear hugged Tyler.
"Hey Boston." Tyler said enduring the embrace.
Boston was human for the most part but did have an enhanced skeleton and prosthetic knees. Courtesy of the NCAA. He had been on a football scholarship at Duke but then got injured. Flesh bodies don't stand a chance in contact sports anymore. Football, basketball, soccer, even baseball now require a CB or some kind of enhancement for you to make it. The best teams outfit their players with top shelf bods and mods. Even the minor leagues require it.
Boston was a second-string receiver, so he didn't get much. That is until he got both of his knees swiped by an arm made of titanium. "Completely shattered" the doctors said. The school paid for some pretty good new knees, but he never played again. He now was the closest thing Tyler might call a friend.
"How are you doing man? It's so good to see you." He hugged him again. "How are you doing?" He asked again releasing him.
"I'm doing alright." Tyler said nodding.
"Tyler Carter please report to the directors' office. Tyler Carter, please report to the directors' office. Thank you." A voice over loudspeaker said.
"Well, time to go get fired." Tyler said in jest. He overheard the group laughing as he walked away. He knew they were laughing at him and not his lame joke.
He got to the directors' office and was buzzed in. The director was the top brass at the warehouse. Everyone hated him. He was a company man and thus, rich. Rich off their hard work.
"Hey there Tyler. Please sit." The shiny man said.
Tyler sat in a chair opposite him.
"How's the transition going." He smiled.
"It's a little rough sir." Tyler nodded.
"I understand. I too went through a similar experience during my transition."
Tyler knew that was bullshit. True the man was now a full cyborg but the comparison between their bodies was night and day. Tyler was in a cheap, one hundred-year-old, Honda Civic. The director was in current year electric Ferrari, complete with gold trim.
"So, trust me. I know what you're going through." He kept smiling and nodding, "That being said."
Here it comes.
"The company would like to offer you a one-time free software upgrade."
"I'm sorry." Tyler couldn't help but blink.
"New software." The director repeated, "It will allow you to scan packages just by looking at them. It's supposed to reduce miss pics by up to 99%. And that's not all."
He went on like that for several minutes. Bragging about the new features Tyler would get like a used car salesman. Tyler immediately caught on. He was just waiting for the "man" to say it.
"All of this will be on credit of course but you should be able to cover it in about a year."
There it was, the catch. There was always a catch. The company never truly gave anything away for free. Stuck in the hospital. They'll continue to charge you rent and fire you when you can't pay. No job, no insurance, so healed or not you're out of the hospital. And this supposed update would only work inside the factory and since CBs don't sleep, they'll run you twenty-four seven until you go crazy and die.
That's right, CBs can die. Since they can't feel any pain, the garbage compactor is usually the go to choice. It even saves on needing to clean up the mess. Tyler's seen it several times. A solitary cyborg working day and night until one day it stops and runs headfirst down the garbage chute. Never to be seen or heard from again. If there is a scream it's drowned out by the sound of the compactor.
Tyler had no interest in going down that route.
"No thanks." He said.
The director blinked in surprise, "I'm sorry." He said, "You're not interested."
"That's correct. Not interested." Tyler was firm.
"Well then." The director continued.
"Am I fired?" Tyler asked.
"Well no. Of course not." The director stuttered. "You know it's against the law to fire someone because of an accident."
Notice he used the word "accident". The company would never admit to negligence.
"Then I'd like to resume at my previous position." Tyler replied.
"Well, that's going to be a problem." The director said.
"You gave it away while I was recovering." Tyler was no fool.
"Sadly yes, but we do have a special spot for you. One that's way better your old one." The director stood up and ushered Tyler out the door and down the stairs.
And so there Tyler was. At the far end of the line scanning boxes and sending them back down the line. Whenever a box is miss picked, that means sent to the wrong truck, it get's put back on the conveyor belt and sent to guys like Tyler. Who then proceed to scan the box and put it on a cart that gets it to the proper truck. It was mind numbingly boring. And because Tyler was the only one without the upgrade, he was the only one using a handheld scanner. Everyone else could just look at it and toss it.
Tyler suffered like this for almost a year. And again, because Cyborg Bodies don't need food or sleep Tyler worked damn near nonstop the entire time. He did take his, law required, fifteen-minute breaks every two hours, and he did take religious holidays off. But other than that, scan and throw, scan, and throw.
Then one day he'd had enough. He'd just watched another coworker fling themselves into the garbage and he decided that was not going to be his fate. He walked right up to the front desk and turned in his security pass. Thankfully it was relatively easy to quit these days. Just tell them you quit, and they'll cash you out. They ask you if you want to keep the apartment for the rest of the month or they'll reimburse you the time remaining. Tyler took the reimbursement. He'd need as many credits as he could.
Everything was credited. Food, housing, water, electricity, even replacement work clothes. You get a clothing allowance but that barely covers a new shirt. In the end, Tyler walked out with eight hundred credits to his name.
It got him a bus ticket to Vegas City. A dystopian, cyberpunk, wasteland, but also a place to get low-cost cyborg parts. Tyler figured if he was going to be stuck in this body he might as well try to improve it. Vegas City would be the place to do that. Built over what was left of Las Vegas, after the last war a thousand years ago, and twice as big. It had everything, theme parks, tall skyscrapers, beautiful parks and vistas, stunning neighborhoods, and of course sports teams, movie stars, and rock stars.
Unfortunately, it also had its dark side. Violent gangs, drugs, guns, gambling, and prostitution. The slums were where someone with no money would end up. Except Tyler had an edge. Work was plentiful for a cyborg. Especially a low model one with no record.
Tyler's' first job was as a courier. All cyborgs could run as fast as a car nonstop, so they made perfect couriers. The gig even paid enough for Tyler to afford an upgrade. It was a basic exterior rehab, but it lightened him up enough so that he could move faster and easier. And because he'd spent so long with a heavier chassis, he developed a high load limit.
A Cyborg Body was composed of numerous layers. The exterior coverings, the exoskeleton, the interior muscle layer, the interior skeleton, the wiring, the power source, and a few others. The muscle layer was designed to adapt to prolonged stress. Basically, it got stronger by caring heavy shit, and Tyler was carrying a lot of extra shit.
Cheap bodies like the one Tyler was blessed with were usually built out of scrap steel and cheap plastic. The power source and dual skeleton design would keep you moving despite the body deteriorating around you. The upgrade replaced the steel plates with aluminum. There were other options like carbon fiber, Kevlar, titanium, and a dozen different composites but Tyler couldn't afford those.
Tyler looked himself over in a mirror. The company town didn't have them, and the hospital didn't give him long to look in one. The body was almost what you'd expect. Ten toes capped two feet at the bottom of two legs attached to a torso with two arms which ended in two hands and ten fingers. The almost part came in with the head. Sitting on a thick neck was a domed dome, two blank black eyes, and five gaps in a solid face plate to talk from. It looked like a helmet not a face.
Tyler hated it. He wanted his face or something close to it. He knew it would cost him, so he stepped up his game. He started competing in underground fights. As a courier he got to know the city's underbelly pretty well. Fights like these were common and as long as the combatants agreed, it was completely legal. In fact, many professional cyborg fighters started off underground. So that's were Tyler started.
He fought in the under-card. Against bums like him. They were clowns in the eyes of the crowd, but Tyler endured it. High school had been tough for him, and the army was no different. Despite most of the war being fought by cyborgs, people still applied as meat suits. Most were just hoping to get a free new body like all recruits, but before you can do that you still have to pass basic. Tyler washed out due to poor physical performance. With nothing but a high school diploma and no money for college, Tyler entered the workforce. Now he was smashing the steel plate some dude welded to his head for money.
The money was good though. After a dozen fights, he bought a full restoration. All the junk was torn out and replaced with proper materials. Carbon fiber muscle suit reinforced skeletal structure, a nervous system highway aka a spine, pre-oiled joints, even a reflex upgrade. He walked out a new man. And a new man needs a new look. He got a polish, shine, and paint scheme. Nothing extravagant, jet black with red and gold details.
The crowd loved him. He could throw down with the best of them. Not like a professional but enough to gain the attention of the CWF, Cyborg Wrestling Federation. It was what the WWE turned into after cyborgs took it over. Finally, they could stop the claims that wrestling was fake. The combatants used full force. Pro wrestlers would often leave the ring with more than a few dents. They wanted Tyler to sign on as a patsy. One of those nameless wrestlers who would already be in the ring when they came back from commercial, they would always be pitted up against some burly wrestler who would obviously win or used as a weak tag team partner to the detriment of the hero.
Tyler wasn't sure about it. It was a great opportunity financially, but not a very good career move. He wasn't a very good wrestler and didn't really want to be. The CWF offered to send him to a training camp, but Tyler had had enough of company towns. He turned down the offer much to the scouts surprise. He wanted to get a few more upgrades and he had a plan to get the money.
He made friends with a regular at the fights. A short guy named Scud. Scud was a gambler. He wagered on every fight and sometimes won. Tyler cornered him one day and told him to always bet on him to lose and they split the winnings fifty, fifty. Scud agreed and with that Tyler had his income stream. He took on harder and harder opponents and made each fight look sincere. He even offered his opponents an easy win and a cut if they didn't mess him up to bad. They all took it. The fight world was about as corrupt as you could get. Wagers and back ally deals were common, so Tyler had nothing to worry about. Or so he thought.
Chapter 3.
Whoever ran the fights got wise to their little scheme. Two goons brought Tyler up to see the boss one day. The first thing he saw was the body of Scud nailed to a wall, his entrails hanging down to the floor. Tyler instantly turned off his pain drive only to have it get turned back on remotely. The mob boss laughed.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Don't think for a second you can escape your fate."
Tyler didn't wait for an opening. He lashed out and kicked one of the goons off him but the second one threw him on the ground. He landed with a slam and felt his arm snap from hyperextension. The pain drive didn't simulate pain so much as it provided a sense of awareness. He could feel his limbs make contact rather than just resistance and he had a better feeling of his joints. The downside was what he was experiencing now.
"Arg!" He groaned, "Come on man I didn't do anything."
"YOU STOLE FROM ME!" the boss yelled, "By fixing your fights you made it easy for others to catch on, thus winning more, thus I get less from their losses. Boys." He waved at the wall.
Tyler was being dragged away and saw the nail gun.
He begged, "Wait, wait, wait. I can work off what I owe you plus interest. Please give me that chance."
The goons halted when the boss whistled. He stood and walked to them.
"With interest." He said to his face.
"With interest I promise. No matter how long it takes you'll get your money back." Tyler was desperate.
"I like that." The boss said.
The goons dropped him.
Tyler instantly realigned his arm. He popped the joint back into place and made a few test motions. It moved properly but with a slight twinge. He would have to get it checked later.
The boss pointed a finger at him after he sat back down, "You will do everything you're told, no questions asked. Understood?"
"Yes." Tyler didn't have to say it, but he did. He had no choice.
"Now get out of here." Boss man jabbed a thumb in the direction of the door.
Tyler got out. He didn't know where to go but a goon told him to follow. They went down into the basement. There was a cyborg maintenance chair. Tyler sat when he was told to sit and braced for what came next.
The mob outfitted him with an internal phone that only they could use, a GPS tracker, and a mini bomb. If they thought for a second that he was betraying them, boom. Tyler understood. They let him go back home after that. The only instructions he got were, "We'll call you, you better answer." Then kicked him out of a moving car.
Tyler was banged up but alive. Bruised and in need of a polish but home. Home to his girl. A female fleshy named Gisele. She had a few sensory enhancements but was otherwise still as she was born. One perk about being a cyborg was the babes. Since your dick was literally whatever you choose, picking up ladies was as easy as saying "hi". No chance of STDs and you could go all night. Tyler had sensory palms and a stimulation chip slotted so he could reexperience an orgasm. Also, he loved seeing a pair of tits go wild while riding him.
He thought about breaking the news to her but decided against it. He didn't know if they'd kill him for that, but he wasn't going to risk it. Instead, he just told her he was training and lost track of time. Her mouth said, "ok" but her eyes said, "I don't believe you".
Tyler was scared for her. If the mob felt she was a liability they'd kill her in a second. He was not going to let that happen. He considered breaking up with her. Then decided against it. The next few months were going to be hard, and he would need someone by his side during. Plus, she'd done nothing to deserve a spontaneous break up and Tyler didn't want to hurt her. Even though he realized this decision could get her killed. He did tell her that he got picked up for a tour and to not expect him home for a couple of weeks.
She was happy for him, and they said goodbye to each other for a few hours.
It was late at night the next day when the mob called Tyler up. He'd moved into a small place above the gym that morning and was patently waiting. Fear flared up within him when the phone rang. He answered it on the second ring.
"Hello."
"Tyler, listen up I need you here within the next half hour."
A map with a dot appeared in his vision. It would take him almost exactly thirty minutes to get there. The phone hung up and Tyler ran out the door. He drove a lot more dangerously than he wanted to but he only had twenty-five minutes left.
He arrived at a warehouse among a sea of warehouses. He almost didn't make it. When he pulled up a goon instantly yanked open the door, told him to get out and go inside, and then drove off in his car. Tyler hurriedly walked inside checking to make sure he hadn't been followed.
Inside the warehouse was a slaughter. At least a dozen people had been massacred. All that remained was their blood pools. The bodies had been wrapped in plastic and shoved into the back of a van. Another goon saw him and yelled at him to get into the van. Tyler complied and got behind the wheel. Another map with a dot flashed in front of him. It pointed him to a junk yard outside of town. He was told to drive there and leave the van.
Tyler asked no questions. He just drove. Mindful of every other car he passed. A few times he cross paths with a patrol car, but nothing happened. If he still had a heart, it would have had an attack. The junk yard was dark and lifeless. He parked the van where the dot indicated he should and left. It was a long, lonely walk back to town, but it gave him time to breath and prepare for what was to come.
Over the next six months that was the life of Tyler Carter. He'd called Gisele and told her he'd be on tours for most of the year but that he'd get back as often as he could. That turned out to be once every other week. They'd chat, and fuck, and Tyler would leave the next morning, it sucked, but it worked.
The jobs themselves changed as time went on. At first, he was just a driver. Either delivering packages or people, making pickups and drop-offs, or just driving a car from point A to point B. After about two months of that he was tasked with collections. People needed reminding that they owed a debt and that it needed to be paid. Tyler was outfitted with a new face and paint job so that nobody recognized him. Three months of that earned him a promotion to hired gun. Which is were we find him now. Knee deep in guts, wrapping up bodies that he'd just killed, and stuffing them in the back of a familiar looking black van.
He thought the first time he'd kill would be hard. Turns out its easy when you have an emotion dampener installed. Which he did. That wasn't the only upgrade he'd gotten either. A higher quality exterior, more responsive muscles and joints, gold chrome, and a new sensation package that made sex with Gisele feel like the real thing. But one thing still worried him.
"Come on in Tyler." Boss man said with a smile.
Tyler hurried in and sat down. The boss was smoking a cigar and looking a million dollars richer.
"Tony tells me you have a question about your debt. That true?" Boss asked.
"Yes boss." Tyler said nervously. He might be in their good graces now but that could and was likely to change.
"Well," boss sat up, "You've been doing so good I don't mind considering you free and clear."
Tyler smiled inside. There was a light at the end of this tunnel. But something told him a hammer was about to drop.
"You're not planning on leaving us, would you?" Boss said sinisterly, "Cause that would be disappointing. Especially after all the gifts we've given you." He mockingly gestured at the upgrades.
"No. Of course not boss." Tyler smiled, shrugged, and blew it off, "I just think that if my debt is paid then maybe I should be getting a cut for my work."
"You want a cut?" Boss glared at him.
Tyler chuckled slightly hoping he could pass it off as a joke if the boss said no. Luckily, he didn't.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" The boss laughed.
Tyler and everyone else joined him in laughing. Then stopped when the boss stopped.
"Of course, you should get a cut. I'm surprised you've gone this long without one." He opened a draw and pulled out a wad of cash, stuffed it in an envelope, and tossed it at him. "That should hold you over. Anything else?" He wasn't asking.
"No, this is perfect. Thank you, boss." Tyler took the envelope and left. He didn't even bother counting it.
He wasted no time in getting home and hiding the money. He still had the peeping tom software in his head, so he knew they were watching and listening. The money joined a nest egg he'd been building in case he would have to buy his freedom. He figured if it was a sum big enough that they would steal it then it was worth his life. By his estimate he had a few hundred thousand. His goal was a million then he'd make the offer. He'd never make it.
Chapter 4.
It was close to midnight four weeks later. The operation was simple; go inside, hand over the money, get the contracts, and get out, simple right.
Wrong. Everything went wrong. The case with the contracts was rigged. It killed their main man and half the crew. The other half, including Tyler, had to fight tooth and nail to get out alive. The whole thing had a "level of Call of Duty" vibe to it. Automatic fire, grenades, gunning people down left and right with careless abandon, it was all there.
Luckily Tyler had made many additional upgrades that the boss didn't know about. Upgrades that kept him alive long enough for the boss to show up.
The big man pulled up in an armored truck with a machine gun turret.
The boss yelled, "Take this, busters!"
And then let slip tens of thousands of rounds of death upon those who were trying to kill us.
Tyler looked visibly shaken as he was brought into the office. The boss got him a drink.
"First time kid?" he asked.
"Yes." Tyler answered confused. He'd been in shootouts before, but this was something else.
"I remember my first fight with the Busters." He muttered.
"Who are they?" Tyler sneered, he wanted to hunt them down and make sure they never do anything like this again. His anger was written on his face.
The boss said, "Forget about going after them kid."
This surprised Tyler. Why would the boss let something like this happen? "Boss, I don't understand."
"Because if we did move against them, it would play out in Washington ten times worse than how it would out here."
Tyler still looked confused. The Boss continued.
"Busters have been trying to take us out for centuries. Sometimes they succeed, but we always come back. If we struck back, a wave of anti-union sentiment would wash over the people of this country and elected officials would have more ammunition to use against us. So, we endure. Collecting dues from our members. Sometimes by force, damn apprentices always forget their dues. Complete the contracts we accept. Do a damn fine job of it." He chuckled, "Dispose of encroaching non-union workers and fight against union busters when they come calling."
Tyler felt even more confused. Unions, dues. Had he been working for a labor union this whole time. He asked as much.
The Boss bellowed out a deafening laugh. Everyone in the room did. Several laughed so hard they fell to the floor and rolled around. When it ended nobody was breathing right. The Boss waved everyone to calm down.
"Yes, we are, and you have. Local Union 10169."
"So, all those bodies I disposed of?"
"Non-union assholes who come in and trash our projects or steal our shit."
"The money I've been collecting?"
"Unpaid union dues."
"I thought unions paved streets and built buildings. What's with all the killing?"
"O don't worry. We still do all those things but up here at the hall things are different. A lot of stuff goes into keeping a labor union afloat. Without us, all those workers would be slaves to the Capitalist pigs who ruined our country in the years leading up to the Second Civil War."
Tyler thought back through his history classes. He remembered being taught the Second Civil War was fought over states' rights but what was this capitalist thing Boss was talking about. "Who what now?"
"The Capitalists. O that's right you went to public school back east. Well, the Capitalists were a group of wealthy elites who lobbied the government into passing laws that favored them, mostly tax law. Over the course of about a hundred years, after the failure of the man they made president, they slowly squeezed their way into every faucet of American society. Eventually controlling everything. Healthcare was the real issue being fought over. The Capitalists wanted to completely privatize it, but a group within the government said they couldn't. Pretty soon America was at war with itself again."
"Who won?"
"The Capitalists of course. Now a days they call themselves Republicans, but they are a far cry from what that name entails. Years later they created a line between the east and the west. The west could remain liberal while the east became exclusively conservative."
"I remember seeing a video about The Great Divorce."
"Yep. It was actually a Californian scientist who invented Cyborg Bodies. But like an idiot he didn't patent them. When Big Pharma got a hold of them, they packaged it, marketed it, and sold it to the people at an exorbitant markup." He smiled and thrust a thumb into his chest, "But we unions have an edge. You see we took over the means of production. We buy parts directly from the factories, we mine for the materials that make them, built our own supply lines, and sell directly to the customers at a low price. No high taxes, just efficient spending."
Realization was dawning on Tyler. For years of his life, he'd been living and working under a corporatist regime. A regime that proudly proclaim one truth, "If you don't like it, get out". It was only after he did, that he fully realized how bad it was. But here it was different. Here he could afford a car, a nice house, good healthcare, and he met Gisele. A woman who was just as open minded and carefree as he was. Sure, it had it problems. Homelessness, drugs, crime, but every society has those. The difference was how each side dealt with the problem.
Back east bands of roving cops in up armored Humvees would patrol the streets in full tactical gear. Shoot first, ask questions later, kind of people. But only in the slums and the bad neighborhoods. The rich got houses up on hills surrounded by walls and guarded by private security. In Vegas City cops still had a bunch of that equipment but they only pulled it out in extreme circumstances. They always tried to deescalate the situation and talk things out. If that didn't work then they used less lethal options before using deadly force. No one can say for certain which version works best but one side isn't afraid to change if necessary.
His old life would have worked him to death and replace him within an hour. His new life was without limits. The "Union" boss, as he actually is, ran him through the benefits package. He got free medical and cyborg care for himself and his family for life, free college tuition for himself, his spouse, and his kids, retirement pension, vacation pay, and guaranteed wages. That last one stuck out to Tyler.
Turns out Tyler has a checking account that he didn't know about. All citizens get one when they get a drivers' license and officially become a resident. It was in the mess of print nobody reads when they're at the DOL. He'd been working cash only jobs and thus no income, but Boss had been paying him a wage the entire time.
"That's why I laughed when you asked for a cut." Boss chuckled again, "I thought you had spent your entire paycheck and needed an advance." He laughed harder.
Tyler actually let out a short snort himself. He wondered why people had been using their DL to pay for stuff. The license card doubles as a debt card. He'd been acting like a delinquent, using cash for everything, living in squaller. He could've been living like an actual person.
Tyler sunk into his seat. He'd been wrong about so much for so long he couldn't believe it. The software they'd put in his head wasn't tracking and recording. It was a firewall against hackers. One they'd been updating every month for free. The mini bomb was actually faster ram. They didn't post goons outside Gisele' place to threaten her, they were there to protect her. Union busters have no qualms about going after union members' families.
The Boss asked him if he had any questions and Tyler shook his head no, but then one last question popped into his mind, "What about Scud. You tortured and killed him?"
The Boss looked at one of his guys, who cycled through his memory then sent an image to Boss. Boss nodded in recognition.
"That kid was a fucking snake, Tyler. He was not only stiffing you on the take, but he was also racist piece of shit using you to get rich." He continued after Tyler asked for more, "A frequent scam is Fleshies convincing Cyborgs to compete in easy to rig games, then string them along until they get arrested. The target goes down for cheating and the scammer moves on to the next victim."
Tyler couldn't believe it. He thought he was the one who approached Scud. Only now did he remember Scud always being in a seat near his corner. He wanted to be seen. He knew Tyler would approach him. That little shit made Tyler furious. He wanted to flip the desk but didn't for obvious reasons. The Boss spoke again.
"If you'd gotten an actual trainer and manager, you might have made it in the pros by now. Hell, that's still an option if you want. CFC is always looking for new fighters." "Cyborg Fighting Champion." He said when ask.
Tyler was intrigued. "You mean I don't have to do this for the rest of my life?"
"No." The Boss said after looking left and right really quick, "Of course not. What made you think you that?"
"You killed Scud and were about to kill me."
"Kill you." He laughed, "We weren't going to kill you. We were just going to bar you from the fights. That's what we do with cheats." He shook his head in disbelief.
Tyler was overwhelmed with emotions. He couldn't even process it all. One thing was certain though, he wanted to go home. Boss allowed it and even told him to take a couple of weeks off to cool down. Tyler did so.
Chapter 5.
While on the first vacation Tyler has ever been allowed to take, he did a lot of thinking and reflecting. Not only on his old life but also on his new life. He was born in a company hospital, in a company town, 58 years ago. He graduated company high school and got a company job just like everyone else. At age 22 a malfunctioning conveyor belt pinned him against a wall of boxes, snapped his spine, and crushed him. He survived just long enough to qualify for a company provided Cyborg Body. He moved across the Liberal Line to Vegas City where he worked first as a courier, then as a fighter for 36 years. He was then hired by the local Labor Union were he's spent the past 7 months fighting against those who oppressed him for the first 22 years of his life. So where was he to go from here.
Boss had given him a booklet of information about the union and his role within it. He'd been a part of the security team, more like a mercenary team by the way they operated, but he didn't have to be. He could work construction like 90% of all the members, or in the main office, or at the training hall if he wanted. Or he could leave entirely. Boss said they'd be sad to see him go but it was his choice. Boss also said that he could remain a member and pursue other passions, he'd just have to continue paying dues and attend union functions every once in a while. All of the perks with none of the bullshit. That really appealed to Tyler.
The first time he saw Gisele was a week into his vacation. He'd called the union office and asked for some more time, the lady actually told him to take all the time he needed, and to call her when he was ready to come back to work, or to come in and talk anytime. With that Tyler stepped foot into his home for what seemed like the first time in his life.
The whole place seemed brighter for some reason. It was not big and/or fancy. It was a simple one-bedroom apartment he'd been assigned to when he first moved to Vegas. He was used to living where he was told to, so he never questioned it. Everyone is guaranteed, by law, a dwelling, an education, healthcare, and an allowance for food.
Gisele met him at the door. She looked absolutely stunning. A young perky body covered by a silk robe. She smiled at him. Then rushed forward for a hug. They embraced each other. They'd met each other at a fight 2 years ago. She was fighting in the Cis Women Enhanced Division. Both her parents were Naturals. She had three siblings all older, two were Enhanced like her, the oldest is Nonbinary Transgender. Gisele had just turned 18 and thus was now old enough to become a Cyborg which she already has an appointment for.
She kissed him on his face plate, but stopped when Tyler asked her to wait then took it off. Underneath was one of his latest upgrades. He checked his government issued checking account and it had more money in it than Tyler had ever seen. Enough to get several high-end upgrades. The first was a face. Composed of millions of micro pixels, it could shift and form into whatever appearance you wanted. Currently it was him at age 18. The only picture ever taken of him before the incident was high school graduation. She always admired his appearance, she said he looked cute. Now she was kissing it for the first time. She would become a cyborg herself in a week and she wanted to experience as much as she could until then. She did. They did.
Tyler along with her family went with her to the clinic. She smiled when a nurse called her name. She came out like she was trying on a wedding dress. Everyone said she looked beautiful. She looked herself over in a mirror before going back. She came back out twice more, wearing two different bodies. The last one sold her. Height and weight were set the same, limbs had a touch of extra muscle, her once A cups were now C cups, and her brown hair now had blonde tips. She looked radiant.
She had graduated high school last spring and was set to attend college next fall so that left just over a month for her and Tyler to spend together. Tyler legitimately felt sad to see her go. She assured him they would still be able to live together but her studies took priority. Tyler accepted this but still wanted assurance. He talked with her about marriage and while she admittedly wanted to, she wanted to wait until after college. She had a new body and a new life, she wanted to experience it for a while before settling. Again, Tyler accepted this. She encouraged him to explore his own passions and desires, maybe even give college a chance, it was free after all. Tyler took some time to consider college. Every major was available to him, but none really appealed to him.
He dropped her off for her first day of college, kissed her, told her he'd see her after, then went for a drive. Outside the city was a pristine landscape. Tall beautiful green trees, rolling hills, grasslands, everything that made the world wonderful was right outside his window. He parked on a hilltop overlooking the valley. The sun was high. It was bright. The city was bustling. In the distance a solar yard which supplied power to the city could be seen. He knew beyond that was the nuclear reactors along with the dams and windfarms. Vegas City wasn't the only city, but it was the largest. Tyler took in the vista while he contemplated his next move.
For the first time in his life, he was at a crossroads. One path led to college and the opportunities it offered. Another path stayed with the union. A third path left the union and pursued other ventures. Yet move paths revealed themselves. He could join the military. It didn't restrict Cyborgs they way it did Naturals. He could become a content creator. He could write a book. Become an activist. Hundreds of paths all lay before him, and he was free to take any of them.
He took a long deep breath in, got in his car, and began his life.
THE END.