Never Fade Away: Said What You Had To Say (ch. 8) (Patreon)

"He's selling corpses to Maelstrom," Lucy pointed out to him, resting her head against his shoulder while the two of them watched Rebecca coach L on how to shotgun a beer. How drunk L was was anyone's guess since he had already puked twice because of the taste.

David knew. He heard it mentioned by Doc when he was getting some maintenance done. He was pretty sure that he had slotted in a reflex tuner from someone that L had dropped. "It wasn't my intention," David admitted. "The lesson worked a lot better when my mom used it on me." He could still remember the stench of rotting garbage half-baked in the summer sun as he threw it into load ships. It took him all of a day to understand the value of money, and why he shouldn't ever swipe any money from his mom's purse to impress his friends before he went to Arasaka high school.

"You're okay with it?" Lucy asked him, her hand drifting to his and it was only then that he realized Maine's hand was trembling ever so slightly.

He wasn't. Not really. It wasn't something that he could ever see himself doing… but… "He has a reason to step over the line," David muttered an answer, watching L wince under every blow that Becca delivered in the form of pats on the back. L's scars were still visible despite most of his body being covered -- lines down his fingers with dots at each knuckle, up his spine to the base of his skull, underneath his jawline as well as three lines going up his neck. The only place that was completely free was his face, probably for the lifelong implants that were fused to the bone.

According to Doc, it was a prototype for an implant you put in a baby to make sure they grow up good-looking. That was the least punishing implant that had been pulled out of L. It wasn't difficult to see why he was willing to step over the line -- to do something that he knew was wrong. He had people to think about.

"My mom did the same thing," David voiced. He hadn't known that. Not at the time. He just remembered his mom being gone for long hours and when he did see her, she was so exhausted that she couldn't make it to bed. It wasn't until he ran into Maine and Lucy that he learned that his mom had been harvesting implants to sell to ripper docs and mercs. All to pay the bills so he could go to school. Make something of himself.

"I remember," Lucy responded, her tone soft.

"Might feel wrong, but it's probably less wrong than murder. Can't really judge him for pulling out all the stops," David continued before he looked to Lucy to find that she was gazing up at him with soft eyes. "Does it bother you?"

"When I left Arasaka," Lucy began, looking away from him to turn her gaze to their connected hands. "I ran away. We all did, but I was the only one that made it out. I always thought that they would be hunting me down… and I never thought of the alternative -- that Arasaka just replaced us with another group of children." David gently tightened his grip on her hand -- he had to be careful. His grip could crush bone now.

"Couldn't do anything about that, Lucy," David told her, but he could see that she didn't believe it. She told him her story for the first time after she all but begged for him to help L. How she was raised in Arasaka as a Netrunner to explore the Old Net, beyond the Black Wall, in a digital world rife with AIs. How she grew up watching her friends disappearing one after another until it became clear that one day, they'd all die. So, they did the only thing that they could. Escape.

David liked to think he was decently smart. He did get straight As after all. So, he thought it was rather obvious what parallels Lucy was seeing in L. And now that he knew her story, David could see them all too easily.

"I'm not sure that's true," Lucy responded. "I picked Arasaka pockets. I targeted them, sure but not to the level that I could have. I was… content to be out for a while. And…" she trailed off, but David understood. He wondered what the world would look like to someone that didn't grow up in it. Lucy's dream was to reach the moon -- to get away from it all. And it was his promise that he would get her there. "L's the exact opposite."

David looked to L to find that he was knocking back a drink that was almost entirely sweetener like a chugging champion. "It's not one-to-one. L left people behind. The people you were brought up with… they died," David told her. They had to drag L out to celebrate his birthday. Lucy… when he first met Lucy, she had been reckless. It was hard to forget the moment she rode him and a hospital bed out of a moving ambulance and weaved through traffic, laughing all the while.

Since Maine's death…

As much as they had to drag L out, David had to drag Lucy out.

"They did," Lucy agreed after a small moment of silence. "He's setting up for his big rescue mission."

David smiled lightly, "I know."

"You're going to help him, right?" Lucy asked, looking up at him, her hand squeezing down on unyielding metal.

There was a question burning on the back of his tongue that he knew better than to ask. Why didn't she help him if it meant so much to her? What exactly was she doing that consumed so much of her focus that she couldn't spare any for a kid that she had begged him to help? But, the questions didn't really matter because his answer would be the same. "Course," David answered, watching L and Rebecca cheer in triumph while Kiwi watched on, smiling with her eyes while a cigarette dangled from her mask.

"He'll need you to look out for him. Whether he wants to admit it or not," Lucy pointed out. David noticed that much himself. L had eagerly stretched out his legs and was trying to stand on his own two feet. He needed to be able to. If the safety net around him went completely unnoticed, all the better.

“Hm. Speaking of looking after him,” David said, giving Lucy’s hand one last squeeze before he started to stand up. L was looking like he was really regretting downing what had to be half a pint of sweetener. Rebecca couldn’t stop laughing, on her knees clutching her stomach kind of laughter. She was having way too much fun at L’s expense while Falco rubbed reassuring circles on L’s back. “I think he’s partied hard enough for one night,” David spoke up, earning an agreeing look from Falco.

“David! You need to teach L how to dance!” Rebecca demanded, sounding like she had a good bit for herself. You dance in public one time, and no one ever lets it go. Falco passed L over to him, and David draped an arm over his shoulder, hunching down a little to avoid picking L up.

“Maybe some other time, Rebecca. Like when it looks like he won’t puke on my two left feet,” David returned, giving Falco a pointed look to keep an eye on Rebecca. Not that he worried anyone taking advantage of her. Rebecca liked to show off when she was drunk and showing off involved shooting some really big guns. Sometimes at people that annoyed her.

“Let me know when he’s up,” Kiwi spoke up, pinning a look at L, who was sweating bullets to avoid puking his guts up. “Have biz with him,” she added, earning a nod from David.

“Will do,” David responded, starting to drag L away. He was curious about what Kiwi would want with L, but knew better than to pry. That biz was between her and L. Being the leader of the group didn’t mean micromanaging everyone. If they wanted him in on it, then they would bring it to him. Whatever it might be. L groaned as they walked back to Lucy, and he gave her a lopsided smile. “Coming back with us?”

Lucy got up, “Su-” she started, only for her eyes to light up, showing that she got a notification. The slight smile died on her face and it did on David’s too because he knew what the answer would be. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ll be back tonight?” Lucy said, already switching gears before she started to walk off. David watched her go, emotion churning in his chest for a moment before he let it out in the form of a sigh. He trusted Lucy with his life. If she was keeping whatever she was working on a secret… then it would be for good reason.

Still, it didn’t sit well with him. Especially when what he did know was that she was picking a fight with Arasaka. That wasn’t a fight anyone won. Silverhand dropped a nuke in Arasaka tower, and fifty years later, they were stronger than ever. It was a fight that Lucy was destined to lose and his only hope of saving her from it was getting her to the moon before Arasaka threw a punch back.

“Come on, L,” David said, walking in the other direction. “Looks like you’ll be crashing on the couch.” L muttered a ‘Preem’ under his breath as David dragged him to the metro, then to the apartment that he shared with Lucy. L was getting drunker and drunker as the alcohol was hitting him and David realized that it was probably his first time being drunk. Probably his last time too.

The door slid open, letting David deposit L on the couch. He would check up on him to make sure that he didn’t end up choking on his own vomit, only to freeze when L spoke up. “Gloria… Martinez…,” L muttered, looking at his mother's urn. At the hologram picture. Seemed like a lifetime ago that they took it. It was less than a year. “David… what’s… it like to have a mom?” L slurred out, making David run a hand through his hair.

L was a solemn drunk. Who would have guessed?

A solemn drunk that asked hard-to-answer questions. How do you explain what it was like to have a mother to one that didn’t even know what a mother was?

“Mom… moms are people that sacrifice everything for their kid. Health, money, peace of mind… anything to give ‘em a chance of ending up in a better life than they did. Mom loved me. Unconditionally. Even when I was a real gonk,” David admitted, sitting on the back of the couch, casting a glance over at the urn. His mom was smiling from ear to ear and one of his greatest regrets was that he didn’t smile with her. He had been too up his own ass.

“That sounds nice,” L muttered, his tone sleepy and drunk. “Becca… said that they aren’t worth shit, but… I wondered. Do you think I have a mom?” L questioned, and David hesitated to answer. There was a naked need in his voice that David hadn’t heard before. L reminded David of himself a year ago -- puffing out his chest, looking tough, so no one would see how weak he was.

The truth was that L was probably abandoned. Or maybe he was sold to the orphanage for a quick buck. Or maybe he was taken, but corps wouldn’t leave a loose end like a grieving mother, so they’d flatline her. If L had a mom, or parents in general, they were likely dead or weren’t worthy of being called parents in the first place. But he couldn’t say that. “Maybe,” he hedged, and he was surprised when L chuckled.

“A, Z, R, and M… they were the closest thing that I’ve ever had to a family,” L continued. “They’re all dead. I… should… I…” L mumbled, the words not coming out, but David heard them all the same. He knew exactly what L felt. He felt it all the time like an ever-present weight crushing him down into nothing. Like he was drowning and the only air around him were the bubbles that escaped his mouth as he screamed into the void.

“You and Lucy are a lot alike,” David stated, drawing L’s attention away from his spiraling thoughts. “Tryin’ to take responsibility for stuff out of your control,” David continued, knowing that the same words could be directed at him. “You got out. You’re going to get the rest out. That's what matters.” There's only so much you could be responsible for. Most people could barely handle being responsible for themselves. That was an especially tall order in Night City.

“T-6 and M wanted to see the moon… R wanted to ride on a rollercoaster… A wanted to go into space… and Z wanted to be remembered…” L muttered, sounding more sleepy than drunk. A sigh heaved out of him, “Three weeks… and I still haven’t seen the moon for them.”

David opened his mouth to respond, only to close it when he heard L softly snoring. What a punk. Dragging a hand down his face, David spared a glance at the urn once more. His mom wouldn’t recognize him anymore. He knew that much. Not just in looks, but in everything else. It was hard to put into words -- he didn’t regret becoming an Edgerunner. Not really. Meeting Maine and Lucy and the others was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Still, he knew it wasn’t what his mom wanted for him. She wanted him to work for Arasaka, to live it up, reach the very top of the tower -- to become one of the execs. David would make it to the top. Just in his own way.

“‘Night,” David said, shrugging off his Mom’s jacket and placing it on a sleeping L that was all but dead to the world. Seems like he wasn’t the only one carrying the dreams of others on his shoulders. L was a tough kid. Getting up, David started to make his way to the bedroom, only to get an alert from Doc.

“Borg-boy! Got a preem set of tech -- Grade-A bio-plastic vessels and a blood pump. Pulled out of some Militech gonk,” Doc informed him, knowing that he had a customer.

He needed that tech. Metal felt more natural than flesh at this point, but that wasn’t why. Maybe, deep down, he was still that punk kid standing next to Maine, pretending that he wasn’t afraid to die as Max-Tac came beating at the door. That moment never left his head. With his Sandy, he had felt invincible, but against Max-Tac… the guy that his mom ripped it from was nearly a full borg and Max-Tac put him down like a rabid dog. Just like they put Maine down.

He couldn’t do anything then. Even now he wasn’t at a level that he could compete with a squad of Max-Tac. Soon, though. Maybe with this next implant, it would be enough. He could stop and think that if he had it all back then, then Maine would still be here. It seemed incredibly unlikely. After all, he thought that thought going into every operation.

“I’m on my way, Doc. Chip ‘em in.”

…

“Hnnnuughhhh,” I groaned, waking up and immediately regretting the decision. My mouth felt like a sewer and my brain was pounding. It wasn’t the worst that I’ve ever felt, but that didn’t mean it felt any less terrible. Opening my eyes, I hastily dimmed the settings because the light of the early noon sun was stabbing a dagger directly into my brain and when I sat up, my stomach churned painfully.

“Water?” I heard Lucy speak up from somewhere behind me, and looking over my shoulder, I saw that she was in the kitchen. I heard the sounds of her cooking something, but I couldn’t smell it.

“Please,” I croaked out, bringing up my Meditech with a thought. My DNA was still encrypted, which made monitoring my vitals more of a guessing game than it needed to be. However, with a few adjustments, I could guess my vitals with a decent enough level of accuracy. Elevated temperature, congestion, sore throat. I was sick. Well, I was always sick, but I missed a booster shot.

Lucy appeared around the couch, wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, setting a glass of water along with an immune booster and symptom suppressor on the table next to me. “The immune booster is a bit old, but they’re still good,” she informed me while I greedily gulped down the water. My mouth still tasted like a sewer, but a lot of the soreness in my throat came from how I slept. Likely with my mouth wide open, snoring like a log being sawed.

With practiced ease, I jabbed myself with the needle, giving my immune system the boost it needed to not die. Grabbing the inhaler, I took a deep huff of the cherry flavored mist. I didn’t know what a real cherry tasted like, but if it was anything like the inhaler, then I was glad that they no longer existed outside of the super-rich one percent. They could keep them. “Can’t say that I miss that,” Lucy remarked.

A sigh left me, feeling my congestion ease up. “How long were you on them?” I asked her, hoping that the six month estimate was a guess.

Lucy smiled, “a year.”

That’s not what I wanted to hear and she chuckled when she saw that written on my face. “I’m making breakfast. You can eat before going about your day. Kiwi wanted to talk to you,” Lucy informed, ushering me up and it was only then that I noticed that I was half covered by David’s jacket. Feeling a little embarrassed at being treated like I was a young kid, I set the jacket to the side. “You two working on something?”

“An ICE Breaker,” I answered, dragging a hand down my face, and now that I could smell again, whatever Lucy made smelled delicious. Taking a seat at the counter, she set a plate in front of me. Eggs and meat. Bacon, I think. “A cipher matrix,” I added, taking a bite. Eating food was still weird, I thought as I chewed. In the orphanage, there was only nutrient paste that came on edible trays. You had to eat it all because it was portion controlled. So, chewing food was still new to me even if what I was eating was vastly more delicious than the dark blue goop.

That caught Lucy’s attention, “A decoder?”

I nodded, “That's the idea. In theory, it could become a skeleton key because the code is modular and self-adapting based on what it encounters. The only real hard limit is processing power. We’re still in the proof of concept phase though,” I muttered through mouthfuls of food, realizing just how empty my stomach felt. The code itself was a very long way from being what it could be, but even with a skeleton framework, it showed promise.

In essence, the skeleton key was Breach. Both were ICE Breakers, but they were two very different types. Breach used code to force a door open, getting past security systems, and allowing deeper access to subsystems. Skeleton Key was more of an adapting key that convinced subsystems that it had access to them, allowing for seamless access. The issue was that it took time for the matrix to ping off of a system, see what would allow access, and shift itself to pass as a false positive.

Skeleton Key would carve through thin ICE like it was nothing, but what it was ultimately intended for was thick ICE. Or Black ICE, which was ICE with fatal consequences for failing to breach it. And to use it for that would need outrageous amounts of processing power with our current model. What Kiwi and I were doing right now was downsizing the matrix even as we were building it.

Lucy seemed pensive for a moment, biting her bottom lip as I finished off the plate, all but licking it clean. “Something wrong?” I questioned, wondering what the look was for.

“... No, it’s nothing,” Lucy decided with a small shake of her head. I didn’t believe that for a second. “Just be careful with that matrix. From the sounds of it, a lot of people would want to get their hands on it.”

I nodded, “Kiwi said the same.” I knew what I was building the Skeleton Key for. So long as I could use it for that singular purpose, I couldn’t care less who got their hands on it afterward.

As if she heard us speaking, I got a hail from Kiwi. ‘Rejoined the land of the living?’ She asked through a message.

‘Unfortunately,’ I responded, taking hold of the empty dish and looked around, not certain what I should do with it. In my apartment, everything I ate came out of a wrapper so I just tossed the trash into a bag and got rid of it when it got full. I’m not sure what I should be doing with a plate because it didn’t feel edible.

‘Before you swear off drinking, meet me in Afterlife. Flicking you the location.' Kiwi informed me before the call went dead. The Afterlife. I've heard about the bar before -- it was a merc bar and was widely regarded as the beating heart of Night City when it came to gigs. Naturally, my interest perked up. The Afterlife had a shortlist of who it allowed beyond its doors and I wasn't on it.

"Thanks for breakfast, Lucy," I said, calling my car to pick me up. "I'll get out of your hair."

I've seen Lucy a handful of times since I escaped the orphanage. David said that she was working on her own project, and from what I've gleaned from Becca, Lucy used to be a part of David's crew back when it was led by some guy named Maine. So, I didn't see much of her. However, without fail, every time we had a conversation, Lucy would get a look like she wanted to say something. And, every time, she swallowed it down and said something else. This time wasn't any different.

"Don't push yourself too hard, L," Lucy said instead of what she really wanted to. I nodded, muttering a farewell before heading for the door after Lucy took the non-edible plate from me. I thought we would be… closer, for lack of a better word. If anyone could understand what I was going through or what she went through, it would be each other. Instead, I felt like there was a gulf between us and I'm not sure what put it there.

Peeling off my jacket, I tossed it in the front seat of my truck. Making a stop at a vending machine to buy a toothbrush, I set the destination to Afterlife and let the autopilot drive me there. Mostly because I couldn't drive anything that wasn't a flying car. By the time I arrived some minutes later, I felt a bit refreshed. Afterlife was impossible to mistake -- mostly because of the crowd that gathered in front of it to snap shots of famous people or mercs that were allowed to enter the bar.

It sounded stupid, but it was mostly to verify where someone was. Most mercs had optic camo like me, but all of them had a signature look to make sure people knew it was them. Confirming that a merc or a celebrity was here confirmed that they weren't somewhere else.

Getting out of my truck and sending it to the nearest parking garage, I headed to the entrance and was thankful for the long sleeves. Tucking my hands in my pockets was enough to hide the surgical scars on my hands, and my optic camo would hide the ones on my neck. Descending down the steps, I recalled that Afterlife was originally a morgue that got converted into a bar. Reaching the bottom of the steps, I felt the music vibrating the ground and slipping past the door that was guarded by a large man that was brimming with implants.

He held up a hand at my approach, "No kids."

"Names L. I'm here to see Kiwi," I returned, not surprised at the refusal. The muscle paused, his eyes flashing red as he reached out. A second passed before he lowered his hand.

"Head on in," he changed his tune and the doors swung open for me. A long counter acted as a bar while several spaces were filled with handfuls of people that stuck closely together. At each opening to a side room there were people in tubes and liquid dancing sensually like I saw with holograms over on Jig-Jig street. Except real. The music was loud enough to drown out idle conversations and without an implant, I couldn't make out what people were saying.

I had no idea what Kiwi looked like. I've never met her in person. At least, so I thought until Kiwi reached out through her phone. 'Directly to your left.'

I looked left to see a familiar face standing outside of a booth room, and I realized that I had met Kiwi before. She just hadn't introduced herself. Feeling a little embarrassed, I walked over, my gaze darting around to take everyone else in. At a glance, everyone had implants and weapons. The kind that normal people in the street wouldn't have. If anything, it made me feel underdressed because I only had a pistol tucked in a harness under my shoulder.

"What's the biz that you wanted to talk about?" I asked Kiwi, the pink-eyed woman regarding me coolly. The bottom half of her face was covered by a mask, making it impossible for most to tell what she was thinking, but I got used to reading A's expressions and most of his face had been metal. She was curious about something.

"I vouched for you to help on a job. The fixer wanted to meet you. Face to face," Kiwi informed me, inclining her head as a gesture to follow, and I did. That caught my attention. So far, the only fixer I interacted with was Regina but, according to Becca, Regina was a low to mid-level fixer. The thousand eddies I was earning per gig was chump change to some of the gigs that fixers could arrange. So, I was very curious about the meeting.

"What's the gig?" I questioned as Kiwi led me past the bar area with what seemed like practice ease.

"Can't say until you're cleared to know. I will say that it involves Netrunning. Wanted to go with Lucy, but you're a half decent consolation prize," Kiwi added on, a hint to stop asking questions. So, it wasn't just David that Lucy wasn't working with. Deciding to take the hint, I followed along silently until Kiwi led me to a back room that was completely empty except for what looked like a glass cage at the center. Walking around revealed that there was a few chairs and a couch arranged around a coffee table.

Sitting directly across from the entrance was a man with stark white hair dressed in a sharp red suit. His eyes were yellow -- all four of them, with three on one side of his nose with a lone one on the other. His legs were crossed, his hands on a knee, and he looked at me with a very measured look as the door closed behind me. I sized him up at the same time.

Outside of his eyes, there were no other visible signs of enhancements. Pinging off of his system just got me junk data. However, based on how his expression tightened ever so slightly, his own Ping got the same from me. As far as initial impressions went… I didn't like him. There was no real reason for it, but looking at him, I was reminded of Dr. D. It was something about how he carried himself.

"It's a rare thing for Kiwi to vouch for a fellow Netrunner," he began, gesturing for me to take a seat. "Especially if it's for a job that she couldn't crack herself."

Taking a seat, I stole a glance at Kiwi to see that her eyes narrowed a fraction at the remark. "Cracking it is easy," she responded, an edge in her voice. "Just not in the timeframe you're asking for. Many hands make light work."

"Light work indeed," the fixer returned, his tone carrying a whiff of mocking. "Before we begin, I will require a complete list of the equipment that you would be using for this task. Kiwi should have informed you that it's a job for a talented Netrunner. Runners, in this case."

"A laptop and Fuyutsuki Electronics MK. 1 cyberdeck," I answered, and while his face hardly twitched, displeasure radiated from him. As far as equipment went for a Netrunner, that was the bare minimum. "Tailored to suit my needs." My plans to upgrade were stalled by the fabricator. I needed the money to purchase IDs and to cover tracks. Spending money on implants that I could eventually make seemed foolish.

"Very well. If Kiwi believes that you can help her, I am inclined to believe her," the fixer decided. "Your target is a member of Arasaka's counter-intel named Valerie. Within the next twelve hours, I require you to alter a mission report before it is backed up within Arasaka servers. The pay is fifty thousand in total. I'll leave however that is split between you two. Naturally, discretion is required." He added, as if for my benefit.

I had doubts about the job up until I heard the number of eddies. Hacking into Arasaka was dangerous. Hacking into a member of counterintelligence was extra dangerous.

And I didn't care. I needed the money.

"When does the clock start?" I asked the fixer, earning a sharp smirk.

"It's already ticking down."