Soul Version 6.2

'Ready?' Fox asked.
'As always, just check the link is active and that the transfer's
going to work' Panicked yes but he couldn't help it. He'd never been
cut out for this shit and knowing they were about to complete the final
job after six years of this... well he wanted things to go more
smoothly than normal.
'The green light's on Bow, now shall we?' Fox scratched absently at
his head and ran the fingers of his spare hand through his greasy
silver grey hair. The other hand held a 12 gauge SPAS tactical pointed
directly at Bow's face. Bow wore the conservative black suit that was
uniform to most large corporation and Zaibatsu employees, but there was
something about the way he stood, like he found everything he wore
uncomfortable. He looked like he was trying not to touch the
clothes.
'Wait!' Bow said, panic overriding professionalism, 'the MO, its never
been like this before. What if you damage the unit?'
'Listen Bow you designed those goddamn things. Stop being such a pussy
and shut up.' Fox took a step forward, raised the gun slightly and
pulled the trigger, the shotgun spreading bone and grey matter all over
the suite's nice expensive wallpaper. The hotel room looked like it
should be expensive but there was something about its minimalist design
that grated. Black furniture on a pine floor with white papered walls,
expensive paper from the markets of Inabayama. Now the room looked more
like a modern art piece "Projection of thoughts" was the name Bow
decided on for the big mess trailing black lines of blood down the
wall.
Fox walked over to the Laptop on the desk and looked into the inbuilt
web cam 'Bow?' he said into the screen whilst lighting a black market
Australian Marlboro and sat on the bed, the shotgun smoking as well. '
Come on' he said to no one in particular and with no real urgency. The
laptop on the desk was attached to a small black rectangular box. It
looked like a portable disk drive, two lights on the front. One showed
green the other unlit. Fox would glance to the box every now and then
whilst walking around the brightly lit hotel room smoking. The box made
a 'ping!' noise, like a microwave finishing and the other light flicked
on red.
'I'm in. So you get us the fuck out of here' It was Bow's voice coming
from the black box. But not the voice of the Japanese suited man who
lay headless on the floor.
'Bingo' Fox reached into his pocket and pulled out a small battery
unit, attached it to the box with a few leads, taped them together with
black tape grabbed the whole bundle and made his way briskly but
cautiously towards the top of the hotel. The bundle hidden in his long
black coat, Fox made it to the roof before he heard the sound of
sirens. The Doppler effect let him know they were just passing and he
relaxed a little. He pressed the key unit in his pocket and the rented
Honda-Sparrow's door opened.
As the craft took them back downtown, away from corporate land and its
giant monolith arcologies towering over old abandoned offices, Fox
placed the box on the passenger seat 'Well?' he asked it.
'Are we safe? Are you alone?' said Bow's voice from the box.
'Yes and yes' Fox replied, lighting another Marlboro.
'Well I transferred all of his funds to the off planet account, the
usual assets and life insurance. But that's peanuts compared to the
tech data I found in there. Our mark seems to have been a man of more
influence than we realised. One of the head researcher's assistants,
but privy to some pretty hardcore data, this could be the one we've
been looking for. The motherlode, honest to god.'
Fox wasn't convinced and he looked suitably sceptical.
'Lets just get it back. You can get back into yourself and scan the
files from the Sansaka. Run it through the net to Richard and see what
he'll give us.'
The box clicked as the storage disc inside accessed. The red light
flashed a few times. 'I think this might be more than Richard can
handle'.

They flew in silence until they reached the shop downtown. Fox picked
up the box 'look I know this can't be easy, we've done this before. Got
our big ticket to how the other half lives. Just don't get your hopes
up. We may have to do this again'.
The box clicked 'Shut up Fox' the red light switched off.
Fox carried the box down from the roof-landing pad and into the
backroom of the shop. He felt exhausted and found it was hard to move.
He decided it was the implant that had replaced his adrenal gland
malfunctioning again. Of all his components that one played up the most
and when it did Fox could feel the chemical mix of steroids, growth
accelerants, anaesthetics and adrenasynths seeping into his
bloodstream. He used to know the names of all these chemicals that
stiffened his muscles now. In his sales pitch he would recite his
components what they did and how they would improve his efficiency. The
implant released far too much of the mix into his bloodstream, the
regulator shot to pieces most likely.
He tried to remember the sales pitch, but none of the words would come
back. They teased him from the back of his mind but the barrier of
years of drug enhancement and component implantation hid them in one of
the many honeycomb segments of Fox's memory. Only emotion came back,
colours of the desert, tundra, forest and the faces of old lovers,
victims and contractors, their names and relationships with him all but
forgotten.
He put the fragments of memory into the back of his mind and placed
the box on the wooden table. All the shops furniture had been left by
the previous owners who had either left in too much of a hurry to
bother with it or more likely simply didn't want it. The table looked
as though it had been made from part of a bar. Coat hooks still
attached to the side and names of ancient piss-heads scratched into the
varnish.
Fox tapped the box knowing it would make no difference; Bow couldn't
feel anything in there.
'Bow, it's time. You keen to get out and scan this shit?'
The backroom of the shop had one bare light bulb hanging from the
ceiling and was crowded with six years worth of collected hardware
parts most of them useless. One large tower case like a big black
panelled filing cabinet housed the software storage units, each
sections green L.E.D.s twitching on and off to show data being
accessed. Large black coil protected cables joined the Sansaka PC on
the table to the storage case and to medical unit next to the pale,
skinny guy lying in a bed. He wore an old pair of faded jeans and laid
perfectly straight, his arms by his sides and his black shirt open.
Electrodes attached to his chest and head and a Vid-Pair over his eyes.
Bow liked to wake up anywhere but the backroom of the shop. This time
he'd decided on a white sandy beach, blue water and palm trees. It
eased the transition.
'Okay' the box croaked 'I'm ready'
Fox attached the box to the Sansaka and left Bow to it. The transition
back into his body normally took a few hours. Bow had once explained to
Fox that it wasn't really a transition, that his personality never
actually left his body. More he just had to get it up and running
again. Fox didn't care about how the technology worked. Only the
results. He went out to the front of the shop, reached for the bottle
of prison vodka under the counter, poured himself a large one and
settled down to wait.

Bow once told me what he does. He dies for a living. We were at the
Green Lion. An Irish pub squashed in between a convenience store and a
'Guns-n-Blades' outlet. This pub was one of our more unusual regulars.
The crowds of puke haired teenagers put me off at first but if you
ignore them they ignore you. One of them once called me a "Scally
Bastard" for spilling a drink on the ridiculously baggy jeans they all
wore. I'd never wear anything like that myself, you can't see your
shoes and if it rains they suck up puddles like you wouldn't believe.
We'd come here for a drink and Bow told a couple of S-Punks to move
from a table and flashed the butt of his old worn out Glock 9mm
handgun.
'Fascists' the kids said, peeved but not arsed to do anything about
it, as they picked up their snakebites and moved to stand next to the
bar.
The Pub was short of tables mainly because of its unusual shape. Only
wide enough to allow one set of tables and chairs between the bar that
run along its left side and the opposite wall, it made up for it in
sheer length. On a really busy night it was impossible to see from one
end to the other.
We sat down, the S-Punks giving us dirty looks before continuing their
conversation.
'So what did you want to talk to me about?' I said, sipping on a warm
white wine that tasted like piss smelt.
Bow looked right into my eyes and opened his mouth to say something
and stopped.
'What?' He lifted the pint of cloudy brown beer and swallowed a few
large gulps. I held his hand in mine and smiled, a little concerned but
without a clue about what was bothering him.
'Lola I like you but I don't think we can see each other again'. I
dropped his hand and drunk my wine, disgusting as it was.
'So you're dumping me' He looked lost now and put his hands up in the
way he always does when he's trying to explain something and can't
think of the words. He waves his hands about in his own secret sign
language of pointless gestures.
'No... No I'm not dumping you, I'm worried for you' he went to take my
hand and I held it away from him 'look if you stick around with me you
might end up getting hurt. I'm not saying you'll never see me again
it's just for a while. I'm getting involved in something big. If I fuck
it up I don't want anything to happen to you which in theory it could'
he drunk a bit more of his beer.
'Bow I have no idea what you're talking about.' I paused and thought
about it 'Are you dealing??? Or stealing Trans? I thought the research
job at Siskin was paying you more a month than most people round here
earn a year?'
'Lola I'm not working for Siskin and I'm not dealing anything... well
not drugs. I wouldn't have the first idea how to. But I am selling
valuable...errm' he rolled his hands round each other as he thought
'lets just say items. And if I get caught all have more than the State
police after me. Do you see what I'm saying?'
'No Bow. No I don't have a fucking clue what you are saying. Other
than you're a lot dodgier than I thought you were.' I got up to leave
and the two S-Punks Bow had encouraged to leave their seats laughed as
I walked past 'Piss off!' I said.
Bow started to walk after me. He grabbed me by the shoulder and turned
me to face him. 'Lola do you know what its like to die?'

Fox woke up to see that Bow was up and fiddling about on the Sansaka.
'Damn' he said to himself. The down from the overdose of chemicals the
adrenal implant had shifted into his system must have knocked him out.
'How long you been up?' he asked Bow
'Bout an hour. I've run the encrypted data files from the mark over to
Richards through a few back alley servers. Disguised it as a few e-mail
bundles for most of the journey. Richard hasn't got back to us yet.' He
worked on the Sansaka, streaming through endless lists of numbers and
vector schematics.
'You have any trouble waking up?' Fox reached for the Marlboro packet
he kept in the top pocket of the long Synthwool coat and found them
missing.
'No, no trouble. That was a top of the line Soul Catcher the mark was
sporting there. I think you could've blasted me...' he paused' him,
whatever. You could've blasted it with a rocket launcher and it
would've survived. Oh yeah sorry I took these while you were out cold'
Bow took the Marlboros from his jeans, took one from the packet and
handed them to Fox. 'Look I don't think Richard's going to get back to
us for a while. These schematics are ridiculously complicated. If you
got anything needs done I won't need you for the while.' Bow stared
intently at the Sansaka. His glasses reflecting in inverse version of
the schematics.
' I'm going to talk to Edward see if anyone's been asking questions.
We still don't know if we've got away with it yet.' Fox gathered his
coat up and made his way out through the shop front.
'No ones caught us yet' Bow said as he left.
'There's a first time for everything' but Bow wasn't listening.

As Bow stared at the schematics. Calculations running through his head
but his conscious mind elsewhere. He thought about how the ended up
where they are, the burnt out mercenary and ex-researcher in hiding. He
used to work for Siskin as a junior research associate. A position
shared by a lot of the marks that he and Fox had taken out. Fox, Fox
had worked for Siskin too. Predictably as hired muscle and a general
security officer, but also if the company needed certain illicit jobs
done, Fox was their man.
Fox had been in a Special Forces team in the war. Before I was born.
He can't remember which side he fought for, which war he fought in. His
body is rigged with more implants than is legal nowadays. Biological
implants that regulate and maintain the constant chemical soup flowing
through his bloodstream, including a few extra organs - mini drug
factories that churn out performance enhancers. He also has Hardware
and Cyware parts to increase his physical strength and abilities, to
give him knowledge of all possible tactical situations, knowledge of
every known weapon, vehicle and tool a soldier could need. In his head
somewhere is a satellite link up device with which he could download
orders and briefs, maps and satellite images.
All of this designed to create the ultimate soldier and it
worked.
For the short term.
After the war, while still in his prime, the components and his body
working to create one honed sharpened blade he liked to think, Fox
worked as a mercenary for whichever company paid the most. A blade that
can cut through any problem,
Fox doesn't know who exactly rigged him up with all this equipment but
they didn't design it for the long term. And now, like most war
veterans he suffers from burn out. All has augmentation is failing or
breaking down and the state gives not a shit. For them the war veterans
are unfortunate left overs from a war no one can remember.
Bow came straight out of college into Siskin, recruited by one of the
many scouts that constantly combed the state's graduates in search of
potential. Bow had shown his potential and it was potential like none
of the scouts had ever seen. For his final in biomechanical practices
he produced a device that could record the neural pathways of the human
brain twice as fast as the industry standard, the Soul Catcher mark 1,
a product of Siskin industries. The company snapped him up almost at
the college gates and made him a research assistant. More talented than
most of the head researchers Bow spent a long time as a research
assistant. His senior, a Dr. Drakis had often commented on Bow's
abilities but never suggested him for promotion.

Bow's thoughts were lost as Richard's face appeared on the screen of
the Sansaka.
'Bow! Bow! Listen yo. What the hell is this you've sent me. I've not
seen shit like this since..... well ever. Where'd you get this?'
No one had ever met Richard. He communicated through modulation only,
the BT fibre optic network was his home. Richard loved to tell stories
of the Dark fibre, unused optic cable that he used to reflect data back
and forth between simple-to-hack BT terminals as easy, and free, large
scale storage. "His genius" he liked to point out was that the data was
never really stored, but simply floating about the optics in rotations
only he knew. Richard the hack, the illicit data storage "Genius" and
fence of any decent software. Bow wasn't even sure if he was human. His
face constantly changed. When asked Richard had once explained that the
face Bow saw when he spoke to him was the face of every criminal in the
state's records. Like the mix and match sets detectives used to use to
help victims describe their assailants, Richard's mouth, nose, hair,
his head shape and colour, everything changed. And changed at such a
quick rate that all you could see was a blurry average of a face, the
parts made up of State Criminal Record hacked image files. "The Face of
The Enemy Of The State" was his name for it.
Bow knew Richard was essentially a nonsense case but a useful one, one
who could fence the software he and Fox stole without getting attention
and without peeling off too much for himself.
Bow put on his headphone/microphone set and looked at the screen 'A
research tech assistant for Mischima Zaibatsu had it locked up in his
personal files'
'I see' said Richard, the blurry set of false teeth showing in a
hideous smile 'You've been committing suicide again. Well my boy what
you've stumbled on this time is the blueprints that will revolutionise
the way this whole goddamn planet thinks about computer systems, this
research tech of yours was not supposed to have this methinks. Probably
was gonna try getting a chunk of Chinyen for himself with this. I'd
love to see Mischima's face when he finds out a copy of these specs are
missing.'
'What can you give me for it?' Bow asked.
'Nothing matey mate. Nothing. Infact I've deleted it from my personal
storage system. It no longer floats in the optic sea my friend. This is
way too hot. I couldn't find anyone, not with my lamer contacts, who
would buy it. Maybe you should try one of the other Zaibatsu. See if
they want it. Anyway gotta be getting on. You take care of yourself.
And If I were you I'd stop putting that Soul Reaper to use. What would
Drakis say if he knew eh?'
The screen went dead. So much for Richard not being able to handle it.
Bow picked up his Nokia and said 'Fox' to it. After a moment he held
his head with his hand, put the Marlboro to his lips and said 'Fox...
Richard is screwing us'

In a PC in a secret underground facility a personality construct thinks
to itself. Drakis had worked for Siskin in the underground facility for
as long as he could remember. He didn't know where the location was and
he didn't care. His life was the Soul Catcher. A device developed by
Drakis for Siskin that could be implanted into an individual's head and
would record their neural pathways, a map of the human brain. It would
also record in short term storage the current electrical impulses
travelling through a person's brain and keep them stored for a few
seconds. Drakis developed it and Siskin industries made it. And made
themselves rich selling it to all the major corporations to implant
into their employees. If someone implanted with the device is
accidentally (or otherwise killed) the device transmits its stored data
to a specified PC. The employees with useful minds can then still serve
their company even in death. It made Siskin Industries one of the ten
most powerful corporations in the State and therefore the world.
Then Bow turned up with his college project that blew Drakis' designs
out of the water. The silicon chips in the PC simulated the rage Drakis
felt. The sheer anger he felt at this cocky little kid and his new
designs. The pain of death, a death caused by his bodyguard, the
oblique and hard assed bastard named Fox. Though Drakis cared little
about what had happened to Fox he thought constantly about Bow. Trapped
in the synthesised silicon world of the personality construct, where he
was supposed to be thinking up new designs for Siskin Industries,
Drakis had no influence on the outside world.
Bow had designed the specs for the Soul Catcher Mark 2 and 3. Drakis
had taken the credit as head researcher. He ran through the memory of
the day Bow found out one more time.
Drakis had been testing a new nano-line conductor in his laboratory
when Bow walked in.
'What... why have I not been mentioned as the new models designer?' he
held his hands up in front of himself like a man ready to strangle.
Drakis looked up from his monitor screen 'Because. You have no
influence Bow. Siskin is not the most powerful corporation in the
State. It will not become the most powerful corporation in the State if
our competitors believe we rely on one prodigy such as yourself. And
you are a prodigy Bow. Your designs are miles ahead of anything in our
field. You however are still small fry. As such you mean nothing. Only
your designs matter to the corporation.' Drakis turned back to the
monitor.
'That's it!' Bow's hands curled to fists and went white 'The
corporations reputation! Fuck!.... Fuck the corporations reputation.
Me... without me this corporation would be dead!' He banged his fist
against Drakis' desk.
Drakis looked up again and pressed a small button under the desk
without Bow seeing 'Please this is sensitive equipment. I have nothing
more to say to you Bow. Please return to your dorm.'
Bow turned around and began to walk away. Then he turned and ran at
Drakis. Grabbing him by his labcoat he threw him to the ground. He
leaped onto him and pulled a fist up ready to strike. The door opened
and Fox walked in 'Freeze!' Bow did.
They stayed in that position for what seemed to Drakis an
eternity.
Drakis looked directly into Bow's eyes 'You have no idea. This
corporation is about to release a new product. My product. And you, you
will be an obsolete factor once again.' The Drakis personality
construct thought about the new product. The new device that would make
him Siskin's greatest asset once again: The Soul Reaper
This part of the memory, the moment before his death, was clearer to
him than any other moment in the personality constructs databanks.
Little details stood out, like the inch square black and white tiles of
the lab floor, the tiny grills in between that had nanowire cleaning
tendrils that would keep the lab sterile and cut a man to ribbons if he
broke into the lab during a cleansweep. Then the gunshot. Fox's first
augmentation malfunction had been one of his worst. One of the
neuroaccelerants in his head had had a slight power fluctuation. It had
been enough to cause his arm to spasm and for his finger to pull the
trigger. The bullet hit Drakis in the neck. As the blood pooled and
drained into the tiny grates between the tiles and his brain died from
oxygen starvation his Soul Catcher Mark 3 kicked in. The link
downloaded his personality here, into this corporation PC, into this
personality construct. The last thing he remembered seeing was Bow's
shocked white face. Bow the genius, his successor and his replacement.
And Drakis had found hell.

'You want a drink?' Asked Edward. He sat in an old swivel chair behind
an old bureau desk and pulled a bottle of whiskey from one of the
drawers. An obscure label, old looking. Fox couldn't focus on it but
said yes anyway. Edward pulled a few glasses from somewhere under the
desk, they were dull with dust but Edward poured the whiskey straight
in. Edward's cheap Brown suit didn't sit right on him. It was like the
man had evolved beyond clothes that would fit the human form. He was a
species all to himself, tall and round faced. If he'd been a pleasant
guy people might have called him "Jolly". A collector of information.
He'd started out as a private detective and had somehow managed to
amass enough contacts to know most of what was going on in this
conurbation, the capital of the State.
'Me and the geni-ass have just worked another mark. Literally bout
three four hours ago, I'm not sure, I just need to know if you've heard
anything. Anyone asking questions?' Fox was sweating and the dim lamp
on the desk hurt his eyes. He'd had this symptom before. Ocular
adjustments that allowed for night-vision, but now he couldn't control
them and the dim tiffany lamps green and yellow panes burned like the
sun.
'Three, four hours ago, hell, even I don't get news that fast Fox. And
the only person I seen recently asking questions is you. You been
drinking Fox? You don't look too good. More pasty than usual.' Edward
looked around the room for a while, at the shelves of old paper books
that lined the room and covered the windows, picked up his phone 'I'll
make a few directory enquiries.'
Edward spoke to someone for a few minutes but Fox couldn't
concentrate. The light from the lamp was fluctuating and phasing into
different spectrums. He saw now in infrared only. Edward was truly
hideous in IR, a large glowing mass of heat. Fox downed the whiskey as
different crosshairs and HUD displays appeared and vanished, not seeing
the transitions but knowing the change.
'Well soldier it looks like you and the boy are in trouble. A Mischima
man has been seen nosing about. Not a good one by the sounds of it,
quite a few punks seen him a mile off. Not very good' He downed the
whiskey 'or two good to care who sees him' Edward refilled their
glasses and Fox could smell the whiskey on his breath. His sensory
input seemed to be entirely phasing. At one point he could swear he
could smell the shape of the room.
Then his phone rang but he didn't notice at first.
'Looks like you got a call' Edward said pointing at Fox's coat. Fox
pulled the last of the Marlboros from the box, lit it with his
tarnished silver Zippo and answered the phone.
'What?' Edward stared intently trying to pick up any details. Fox put
down the phone. 'Shit I gotta go. I'm sure you'll find out what's going
on. Thanks for the drink.'
'Anytime Fox.' Edward picked up an old copy of a video game magazine
and began to read. A moment later he heard a thump noise from the
doorway.

I'd waited a week after that day in the pub for the asshole to phone
or at least send me a message saying he was okay. But I got fed up
waiting so that evening I put my little 0.38 into my handbag and called
a cab to take me to that crusty little shop.
I hoped the big muscled guy with the silver hair wasn't there.
Something about him I don't like. The way he twitches maybe. Maybe the
way he's the complete opposite of Bow and yet they're always hanging
around together. The cab arrived and I turned on my answer phone. Just
after I closed the door I heard a call come in. Oh well, that's what
the machines for.

Fox arrived back at the shop to find Bow on the phone 'who you
calling?'
'No one' he replied. Bow slumped onto the chair next to the Sansaka
and held his head in his palms. 'Richard has screwed us over. He won't
pay for the data. Without my encryption code he can't copy it but, I
don't know. I don't think it's beyond him. I have no way to trace him.
No one knows how to trace that motherfucker.' Bow looked up at Fox 'you
okay man? You don't look yourself'
Fox sat on the bed by the medical unit. He was damp with sweat but it
had nothing to do with panic. He spoke in a whisper 'I'm having
symptoms. Worse than normal. Vision in UV. Heartbeat twice normal rate.
I can hear woodworm boring into the floor. My head... aches' he pulled
out the empty Marlboro box and threw it on the table by the PC then
collapsed onto the bed. Bow picked up the cigarette box and got a
bottle of water from the fridge in the front of the shop. Lifting Fox's
head he poured some water into his mouth and let him fall back. Sitting
again by the Sansaka he opened the cigarette box to find a piece of
paper inside:

It appears your business partner here is having some troubles. He
collapsed on the way out of my office. I got one of my lackeys to bring
him here. I suggest you let him sleep. I also suggest you give me a
call. You can deal with that optic hack bastard they call Richard
later. He's the least of your worries.

Edward Farnham

Unnecessary helpfulness was not a trait Edward would often display.
Even for someone like Fox, with whom he went back a long way. Fox had
never really explained their business relationship but Bow knew Fox
could get any info he needed from Edward usually without hassle.
Something about the note worried Bow, left a feeling in the back of his
mind that wouldn't go away. He was worried for Fox aswell. The Burnout
symptoms worse than he'd ever seen and Fox had gone through quite a few
bad patches in the last six years.
Bow stood up switched off the Sansaka. He thought he could see the
blurred features of Richard on the monitor as the electron beam wound
down. Imagination he decided. He picked up the phone, looked over at
Fox 'Great timing asshole' he said, resigned to the fact that he was
probably going to have to deal with the situation by himself. He
dialled Edward's number.

In the cab I thought about the time Bow showed me the Soul Reaper. It
looked like a small carbon fibre sphere covered in LEDs and a few
analogue dials with one lead coming out of it. The lead split at the
end, one split a hypoderm needle and the other a regular PC jack. Bow
showed it too me once. Told me how it would make him rich enough to
take them out of the conurbation. Maybe to a cottage house in the
country, where animals still exist. Place where the weather makes up
its own mind and isn't controlled by the silver Geomart blimps. 'With
this I can take someone over. Wipe their personality and download my
own'. He'd explained once that if he took over someone and attempted to
access their files directly it wouldn't work. Too many encryption
codes, passwords and other failsafes. But a personality construct, a
personality construct has full access immediately. It all sounded like
bullplop to me but according to that wonderfully crazy man of mine,
ex-man I should say, the only way to take over a personality construct
was to take over the personality. Then die. The soul catcher would
transfer you over to the mark's PC, you access their files, get what
you need and leave. It all sounds ridiculously complex but apparently
he and the silver haired twitcher had been doing it for years. I
reached into my handbag and felt to make sure the 0.38 was still there.
I'd felt its weight but the touch was more reassuring. I told the
cabbie to drop me off out front, touched the gun one last time to be
sure and got out.

The jungle. He'd left the jungle, replaced it with a different jungle.
Not one of trees and vines, no marshland and no stars in the night sky.
His was a jungle of espionage, of double crosses and of concrete and
steel arcologies. But no...now he was back in the real jungle, the
combat fatigues felt good, all the equipment familiar and close to
hand. His instincts and training as one. A blade: A sharply honed
blade.
Creeping through undergrowth, the leaf canopy above allowing only a
few shards of sunlight to break though. The beams of light glowed
brightly, illuminating the smoke from a thousand bombs detonated and a
thousand huts burning. The satellite uplink let him know he was
surrounded. He'd been point, but cut off from the rest of the squad.
All his ammunition spent he pulled the blade from his ankle holster.
The only piece of non-regulation equipment he carried, it had been
crafted by a blade-smith of the State conurbation, nano reinforced
steel lined with carbon-polymers mounted on a teak carved handle. His
only friend that wouldn't be dead by morning.
Augmentation allowed him to sense the enemy squad closing around him,
he could smell them, could hear their muffled footfalls as they moved
in, attempting to flank him. He held the knife blade down and moved
swiftly through a large dense cluster of exotic trees. Each one another
data entry in the banks of memory that served as a manual, which trees
could be used medicinally flashed up in the back of his mind.
The first of the enemy squad had gone down quickly, his throat slit
silently and with surgical precision. The second spotted Fox as his
heart was pierced and managed to let off a few rounds from the semi
automatic he held at his side. The bullets flew off harmlessly into the
jungle canopy but they had given his position away he broke into a run.
Even he would not be able to deal with another eleven men trying to
kill him. He broke through the jungle branches noisily and ran directly
into the path of a gun in his face. But a girl he knew, only vaguely,
held it, Bow's girl.
'Make a move asshole and I put you out of your misery' Her hands shook
and her knuckles were white around the guns handle.
Fox sat up, awake but the dream refused to end. The dank walls of the
backroom sprouted branches hanging with vines. Beams of yellow sunlight
broke through the ceiling in patterns of leaves. The room smelt of
napalm.
'I said don't move!' she took a step back.
He looked at the way she held the gun on front of her like a
talisman.
'You ever fired that peashooter before?' Fox reached for his top
pocket then remembered 'Shit, you got any smokes?'
She pointed the gun violently at him 'who is Edward Farnham!'
'That means a "no" I guess. Edward is an old friend of mine you know
him?'
She took the note from the table, never letting her eyes or the gun
leave Fox and threw it in front of him. Fox sat for a minute looking at
the yellow paper. 'I can't read it' he said.
She looked at him a little surprised and felt the gun waver slightly.
'You stupid or something?'
'I can't see visible light frequencies at the moment. The ink looks no
different from the paper' he dropped the note to the floor and it fell
through a gap in the floorboards. Fox ran a hand through his hair and
looked up again at her.
'It was a note from this Edward guy to Bow. Basically it said you were
screwed up and that the both of you are in big trouble, Bow's not here.
I assumed he's gone to talk the guy on the note. But there's no
address.' She sat down, the gun still pointing at Foxes head.
'You're probably right. Listen...Lola isn't it? Put the gun away go
home. I'll find Bow and sort this mess out. You don't know what you're
getting into. I don't know you or care about you but Bow does. And if
his busy mourning his girl he won't be any good to work. So go. Get out
of here.' Fox stood up and stepped towards her. Something about the way
he looked at her was wrong. She couldn't quite put a finger on it. She
moved the gun a little to the left and a little to the right and stood
up. The gun no longer shook in her grip 'well silvertop I'd love to go.
But the state you're in I don't think you could even find the door if
you wanted. You need me because you couldn't see Bow if he was in this
room right now'

Edward was playing an old videogame console when Bow walked in. On the
screen an old New York cab sped through the streets gunning down gang
members in an extended Uzi drive-by shooting.
'Having fun' Bow asked.
Edward didn't look up but reached for a glass of whiskey that sat on
the desk by the old black console. 'Immense fun' he paused the action
on the screen 'something about these old videogames appeals to me so
much more than these holographix dealies the industry is turning out
nowadays. They're just so much more gritty. More real even' he started
the game up again. The on screen protagonist now beating innocent
passers by with a baseball bat.
'What's this about Edward?' Bow sat in the chair on the other side of
the desk facing the screen that hung on the offices left wall.
'Mr Farnham to you science boy. You may keep company with my friends
but to me you're nothing but shit on my shoe. An unfortunate accident
of Foxes that just so happens to have got me involved in something I'd
rather not be involved in.' He jabbed at the joypad with his fat
fingers as a police helicopter shot at the game's character.
Bow just sat there watching the game 'involved in what?'
'Mischima, you prick. Mischima are on to you. And somehow they found
out I was asking around about them for Fox. Their man is on his way.
Here. This very moment. So not only are you and Fox in the shit. So am
I. Oh yes and that little girly of yours. One of my people saw her
leaving with your merc buddy a few moments ago. They also happen to be
on their way here. Right now.'

The cab journey was uncomfortable to say the least. Fox was carrying a
huge bloody gun that looked like it could take out a tank and was busy
loading it up with chunky red cartridges. The cabbie didn't seem to
notice or was doing a good job of pretending. I didn't know what was
going on. We were travelling north towards corporate land. Fox told me
that the guy called Edward lived somewhere in the band of expensive
properties that separated downtown and corporate land, the Platinum
Band. The vast skyline of the corporation arcologies was growing larger
imperceptibly. I watched as we passed through a market place,
Inabayama. Hundreds of stalls selling tat, pirate vids and holographs,
cheap electronics of all kinds, a few selling expensive textiles and
designer clothes. As we drove I noticed one of the markets patrons
watching the cab as it passed. He looked out of place, a hard thing to
do in Inabayama, its customers encompassing every social group in the
conurbation. He looked Asian, Japanese or Chinese and wore what looked
like an expensive silk white shirt, black trousers, a long black coatt
and shiny black shoes. His hair was long, black and done in a ponytail
at the back. The cabs windows were tinted but I could swear he was
looking me straight in the eyes as we crawled slowly through the throng
of market goers. I looked over to Fox. It seemed he hadn't noticed but
as I looked away again he said 'Ignore it' I wasn't sure what he meant.
Outside the Asian man had vanished.

'You want to buy?' The market stall holder, an old and shrivelled
Russian woman held some of her goods up to the man. 'Good quality
items, they make your lady friends very happy'. She put down the goods
as the man looked over her stall. His head and eyes moved in a measured
calculated way. Scanning the items on the stall like a machine until he
fixed on a small figurine of a Samurai. The figure, moulded from
pewter, held a staff with a curved blade at each end; a Senpumaru the
man noted without interest and it wore the tradition battle dress of a
fictional clan known as the Yagyu. A fairytale warrior. He picked it up
by the mounted wooden base and asked the Russian woman how much.
'Well for handsome young man like you, three thousand chinyen' she
raised her eyebrows inquisitively and the man reached into his long
black coat and pulled out a credit card. 'Thank you sir'. She began to
wrap it for him but he told her there was no need.
As he walked from the stall the man examined the figurine. It stood
only a few inches tall. He held it entirely covered by his hand few a
few moments and then looked at it again. The wooden base mount had
vanished and the metal looked as though it had been polished. The
fictional samurai had been replaced with the man's likeness. He put the
newly created small figure of himself into his inside coat pocket and
allowed himself a slight smile. Time to leave the market. He had
appointments to keep.

'I was wondering when you two were going to show up' said Edward as he
offered Lola and Fox a seat on an old leather sofa that lived by the
door of the office. Edward rose from his seat and handed Fox a small
tumbler. The whiskey tasted different to Fox now. Dull. 'Your timing
couldn't be any better; you and the boy here are about to meet death
himself, burn out or no burn out.' Fox fell into the sofa and dropped
the shotgun as his right arm twitched uncontrollably.
Bow got up to help him but Edward raised a hand 'there's nothing you
can do for him boy, sit down'. Bow slowly sat and looked to Lola.
She looked now how she had the first time he'd met her. Innocent but
somehow also weary, as though she knew all too much that the world was
not a place she wanted to be in but was a place she couldn't leave. She
was quiet too and Bow wanted to just take her by the arm and jump onto
an intercon-trans. Leave for the country like he had always promised
her. 'Lola why are you here?' said as though he were asking for the
time.
'I was worried. You said you were getting involved in something
dangerous. You didn't call me.' She held her handbag like a shield,
protection from whatever form death took as it came to meet them.
Fox stirred slightly. Burnt out. He had told Bow this would happen one
day. The symptoms of malfunction causing more to start, cascading until
Fox would simply phase out and become nothing but a body of dead
synthetic organs and dated cyware devices, their circuits fused and
useless. 'Did you tell him?' He slurred the words melding them into one
long sound.
'Yes I've explained you're situation to science boy' Edward opened a
drawer and pulled out a cigar. Cuban. 'He's wiped all the stolen tech
data from the system at your place with my PC terminal. This is the
only copy now.' Edward took a small red minidisk from his shirt pocket
'Well, that arsehole Richard has a copy too but no matter. And you'll
see why. Tell our dear Mr Fox your plan science boy'
Bow looked to the worn carpet, its pattern showing the paths walked by
every shady dealer and lowlife in town through this office.
'Fuck you Mr Farnham. Fox there is no plan. I just said we should give
him the disc. See what happens because we can't run from him and we
can't beat him. What else can we do?' Bow cracked his knuckles and
looked to Lola again, something to take him away from this place for a
second. A house in the country, where there's nothing to do but look
after animals and eat food they grew themselves.
Edward brought him back to the stale office 'so you see Fox you won't
have to worry about Richard. Or calculating your next tax return
because you'll be dead' Edward smirked to himself. He seemed to be
enjoying the whole situation as one might enjoy a play, he was involved
enough to see it all but detached enough not to really care.

They sat in almost silence for a while. Fox's laboured breathing and
the regular sounds of the conurbation the only thing stopping Bow from
believing he was frozen at that moment frozen in this place, waiting
for death in human form to arrive. When he did arrive he made no big
entrance. He simply opened the door to the office and looked at the
faces of each of the rooms' occupants. Lola recognised him as the man
from the market who had seemed to see her through tinted windows. He
gave her an odd look that she couldn't read, only slight; something
deep in his cold eyes. Maybe recognition. Or sorrow.
'My name is Tokichiro. Give me the data or you will die.'

The jungle. It had come back to him after so many years. The jungle
was war, pain and death but it also had a comforting feel to it, a
familiarity that outweighed the fear and suffering. A sharply honed
blade; his instincts and augmented body as one. He saw the shotgun in
the undergrowth, a snake curled round the barrel, its black skin
becoming part of the weapon, its forked tongue tasting the trigger. The
snake had a red crescent between its eyes. The blade. The faces around
him hidden behind tropical leaves, the trees danced in a cool breeze
that smelled of the earth, hiding and revealing the faces randomly,
some the closest he had to friends. And the enemy squad leader, this
man in black with eyes like stone and steel. The eyes absorbed the
sunlight breaking through the canopy and ate life itself. There was
only one option now.

Bow took the disc from Edward's offered hand and stood up. He couldn't
look at the warrior whose stare did not leave him. He slowly walked
over the worn path of the carpet. He wondered if I would expire the
moment the disc had left his hand. He had heard stories as a kid;
rumours of the big company samurai who could slice you in half and you
wouldn't feel it until you started to split. Bow held out the disc and
Tokichiro reached to take it as Fox rolled from the sofa and in one
fluid movement picked up the shotgun as he got to his feet. He fired
off a single round that blew a hole the size of a basketball into the
wall and left small buckshot marks all around it. Somehow the samurai
had moved around the gun and now held its barrel in his left hand. Bow
was amazed how quickly he'd responded, with a graceful turn and without
a single wasted motion. And now the gun began to disintegrate into
nothing as the nano-manipulators in Tokichiro's hand began to
disassemble the metal. The samurai took one step back avoiding Fox as
he swung at him with the butt of the gun; the only part of it left. Bow
ran over to Lola and held her as he watched a sword grow in the
Samurai's grip, created from the constituent parts of the gun. It grew
in a random grid like pattern and after one swift movement Fox lay on
the floor as his blood, black in the dim light of Edwards office, began
to soak into the worn carpet. The samurai plunged the sword into the
floor of the office next to Fox's body and turned to Bow, still holding
a now shocked Lola.
'I changed the means of my death into the certainty of his. But the
sword belongs to him' Bow noticed him remove what looked like a small
silver figurine of himself from his coat and place it on the hilt of
the sword. 'When he reaches hell, they will know who sent him. Now the
disc.' Tokichiro turned his cold eyes on Bow.
Bow threw the disc at him and he plucked it slowly from the air and
concealed it somehow without anyone seeing how it vanished.
Tokichiro sat down next to the desk and put his feet up on it 'Edward
Farnham. Please pour me a drink'
Edward who had sat in silence reached under the desk and pulled out a
bottle of old Irish whiskey and poured some into a glass, placing it
next to the samurai's feet as though it could explode if knocked to
hard.
The samurai sipped the drink and turned his glare once more to Bow
'You worked for Siskin. For Drakis. You designed the Soulcatcher. You
are also the one who stole Drakis' prototype Soulreaper and used it
with Fox's help to break into the personal files of six company
employees, by copying your personality into them and having fox murder
you. The last one worked for Mischima. You should die where you stand'
he sipped again at his drink. Everyone sat completely still waiting for
him.
Lola's arms held tighter around Bow.
'But you will not die. Not today. You could be a valuable asset to
Mischima. That is why you are coming with me. Now' he placed the drink
on the table 'bring her.' He nodded towards Lola.
They left Edward still smirking but much more cautiously and got into
a large white Mischima transport that was waiting for them outside. It
rose into the night sky, headed towards the monoliths and bright lights
of corporate land.

Everything is okay now I guess. It's not the countryside but we have a
dog to take care of and a shared garden on one of the arcologies
massive balconies. Bow isn't the same person I used to know. He
sometimes wakes up in the middle of the darkness and talks about the
night Fox died. He hadn't realised it at the time but Fox was his
friend and a good one. He talks about the time he watched the man who
had murdered him six times over die. He talks about how Richard is no
longer hacking the optics, how no one can find any trace of him. About
how the one implant Fox had never been able to have was a soulcatcher
and how he'd never agree to one anyway.
There have been good times here but its not the life I expected for
myself.

Every now and then I see Tokichiro and he always smiles. It chills me
to the bone.