Never Fade Away: That One Sin that Caused The Fall (ch. 9) (Patreon)

Kiwi already had programs running in the background by the time we pulled up to her apartment, with eleven hours and forty-five minutes left on the clock. Her apartment itself was near the heart of Kabuki, in a high rise that offered a great view of the city. A view that went ignored as Kiwi outright forbade me from working on my laptop in favor of letting me access her spare setup. I heard the sound of shedding clothing and the clinking of ice as she prepared an ice bath to dive into the net.

I ignored the sounds to familiarize myself with what progress Kiwi had made. She had a finger in Arasaka, a backdoor into backdoor chatter. A number of subprograms were working on data decryption, casting as wide of a net as possible without tipping anyone off. From the looks of it, the programs had been running for a solid twelve hours already, meaning that she spent half a day on the task before deciding to call someone else in.

“It’s way too early to be trying the Skeleton Key on this,” I voiced, cracking open the code to see a lot of familiarities in the strings. Bits and pieces of the matrix that Kiwi liked, twisted to suit her needs, before implementing them. The word plagiarism came to mind. Glancing over at Kiwi, I saw her sliding into the ice bath, completely naked. Blue nipples?

“It served well enough in a pinch,” Kiwi responded, grabbing the connecter cable. “It’s also why you’re here. Arasaka ICE is thick, but counterintelligence is in a league of its own. I have an in by calling in a few old favors, but the clock is ticking. I’ll be in the Net and you’ll be the anchor.”

This didn’t sound much like a plan. It sounded like she wanted me to build the Skeleton Key as it was being used while she was neck-deep in ICE that would undoubtedly have Arasaka netrunners cruising the lines. In all, it sounded like a rather elaborate form of suicide. Something odd considering how… cautious Kiwi initially struck me. We started working together on the Skeleton Key two weeks ago, and today was the first time I’ve seen her.

“You wouldn’t do this unless you knew you wouldn’t be caught,” I voiced my doubts as I pulled up the project. I wasn’t familiar with the computer, so it took a few practice strokes for me to get the feel of the keyboard.

“Don’t trust me?” Kiwi asked, making my eyes flicker to her as she slid the connecter into place, relaxing in the tub before her body went limp.

“Not when you’re not telling me anything,” I responded, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I started to add onto the foundation of the Skeleton Key. Adding to the cipher matrix and expanding on it even as I started to pick at the foundation to improve its functions. I could almost see what the code would look like when it was done, it was just a matter of investing the time until I managed to reach that final product.

“Smart,” Kiwi’s voice rang out through the speakers. “I’m moonlighting. Susan Abernathy, a contender for the esteemed position of director for spec ops in Arasaka wants a smear job done on her competition. She’s allowed me a window to plant my dirt on Arthur Jenkins, Valerie's boss. We’ll be using that window to alter the file.”

“Generous of her,” I remarked, thinking that made more sense. It also explained why exactly Kiwi needed an extra set of hands. Susan’s people would undoubtedly be keeping an eye on Kiwi to make sure she wasn’t poking her nose where it didn’t belong. However, with me and the Skeleton Key, we wouldn’t register as intruders within the ICE, allowing us to get past Arasaka’s ICE, leaving only the security measures Jenkins and Valerie would have implemented. “Do I get a cut of that job since I’m technically helping you with it?”

“So greedy…” Kiwi remarked, not sounding like she disapproved. “If you can get in and out without triggering anything? Then we’ll talk about it. I’m about to step into Arasaka. Are you ready on your end?”

I would need another month before I was remotely close to ‘ready.’ As far as trials by fires went… “About as ready as I can be,” I responded and the other monitors came alive with vitals and streams of information coming from Kiwi as she delved deeper into the Arasaka’s datacastle. At the same time, the Skeleton Key started to churn, pinging off of the subsystems in the ICE for feedback on what form it should take.

All the while, I helped shape it. The program was almost like clay in my hands that I was steadily giving form with the right touch here and there. It was by no means a speedy process, I was severely limited by how fast my fingers could go. Kiwi wasn’t idle. She was an experienced netrunner that had more than a few tricks up her sleeve and she began using them in conjunction with the Skeleton Key to start slipping past the ICE that Jenkins possessed.

We didn’t speak for hours, both of us completely focused on the task. I stared at the screen, watching as the code took shape between the feedback of the systems and my building of it. My fingers started to ache, my stomach started to growl, and I was so focused that I couldn’t even bring myself to wipe my nose when my symptom suppressor started to wear off six hours after taking it.

I was in a rare state of mind and within it, I only existed to code. I wanted nothing else, and everything outside of building the Skeleton Key ceased to exist. It took information from social media, from consumer data that Arasaka kept tabs on, as well as the dirt that Susan already possessed. All of it to craft itself into something that could ping off of Jenkin’s personal ICE and generate a false positive and in essence, give us the keys to the castle.

Then, with no warning, the monitors became alit with data.

“I’m in,” Kiwi informed, her voice filtering through the speakers. “You do your part, L. If we do this right, it's going to be smooth sailing,” she added as I immediately began to shift through what Jenkins had access to.

It wasn’t lost on me that Kiwi’s computer was auto copying files that I came across. She understood the value of the information we were shifting through, I suppose. It wasn’t lost on me either, but I was by far more focused on the fact that we had an in into Arasaka counterintelligence. With the data that we had… it wouldn’t be any issue at all to get the data we needed to forge the Skeleton Key into the cyber keys of junior agents.

I found the access portal to Valerie’s terminal. Arasaka kept detailed records, and at a quick skim, I saw that Valerie was on the fast track for promotion. She was with the company for six years and had a number of completed assignments under her belt. Her evaluation report read as capable, motivated, and reliable. A picture of the woman popped up -- red hair with one side cut close, cyber lines across her dark blue eyes, and over her cheekbones. Olive-toned skin and a decent list of implants that mostly centered around quality of life for a corporate environment.

There was a note that Valerie preferred to go by V. A proper name. Arasaka noted it was professional distancing, but encouraged it.

Slipping into the portal, I started to shift through her information -- reports, ongoing investigations and submitted files for review. Scanning the list for the file in question, I found it -- EZ-MT-HWG-T-3/0.98. Clicking on it, I prepared to transfer the doctored file, only for something to catch my eye. Another file. NC-HWB-Target L-15.

Even as I uploaded the doctored file, I opened up the additional file. It was about me. Or, rather, it was a Militech file about me. They had my face and last known position. There were amendments to the file as it was updated with potential information about my whereabouts but, the general consensus was that Militech thought that I was dead and my implants had been harvested.

Arasaka, however, believed differently. I delved deeper into the trail, my heart pounding in my chest as I rapidly pulled up everything that V had on me. It wasn’t much, but it was far more than I was comfortable with. She…

V was hunting me, I realized. Why? Why after three weeks? I searched for the answer, scanning the notes until a file name caught my eye. EZ-AS-L/R-T/1.0

Clicking on it, I saw my answers even as they twisted my guts into knots. “Element… Zero?” I muttered under my breath, scanning the files. V herself didn’t have any access to what it was. Only that I had escaped with a prototype implant with a rare material and that it was paramount that they got me back before I fell into Militech hands. I knew though. That implant. The test. The one that killed R. They were hunting me because of that damn test.

“L?” I heard Kiwi question, making me pull back. I reacted on impulse, scanning the files and copying them to my own deck. My heart was pounding at my ribs. The upload of the doctored file was done. Orders were to delete the original file, and I did. Just not before I saved a screencap of it. It wasn’t as in-depth as downloading the file itself, but it was a lot safer.

“Upload is done,” I answered, my voice a little shaky. “Ready to pull out.”

“Done on my end. Extracting now-” Kiwi started before pausing and my heart leaped to my throat because I thought she was caught because of me. “Bitch. Abernathey is trying to burn me out. L! I need some help here!” Kiwi exclaimed and I reacted instantly, the programs already up because I was already in the process of trying to get her out. Uploading the daemons into the system, I generated junk data to stave off the netrunners. A split second later, however, the Skeleton Key started to shift.

Someone else was interacting with it.

Killing the Skeleton Key program, I refocused on giving Kiwi time to extract herself from Arasaka’s ICE. I was fundamentally working from a losing position. The only way I could have stood on even terms was to be in the Net myself, but working from a computer was a battle no one could win. The Arasaka netrunners tore through my obstacles like they were made out of nothing. It didn’t stop me from uploading program after program, doing whatever I could to isolate them while making sure that they couldn’t zero in on me.

I knew the moment that Kiwi was out when she jerked up in the ice bath, splashing water everywhere. At that same moment, I ripped the power cord out of the computer, nearly breaking it and tossing it away from the computer as if Arasaka could track us through it. For a moment, there was only the sound of Kiwi’s heavy breathing as she gathered herself.

“Abernathey?” I questioned, falling back into the chair while Kiwi stood up. She glanced at me, narrowing her eyes- oh. Right. In the dorm, no one had a problem getting undressed in front of others. Things were different here. Especially between guys and girls. Turning the chair, Kiwi draped a bathrobe around herself.

“I was a loose end that she wanted to tie off,” Kiwi confirmed that it wasn’t my doing and I breathed a little easier.

“Any chance of Arasaka finding you?” I asked, looking back at her. Kiwi gazed out of the window that acted as a wall to her apartment, her arms crossed under her chest.

“Unlikely. Abernathey sniffing around for me would tip others off that she willingly let a netrunner into counterintel for a promotion. She’s a ruthless bitch, but she’s smarter than that. So long as she doesn’t see me again, I doubt that she’ll come after me. If there is a mess, she’ll drop it on Jenkin’s lap,” Kiwi muttered, sounding like the words were more directed to herself. “I think I’ll move. Cover my tracks. Just to be sure. L?”

“Yeah?” I questioned, standing up. I felt like my work here was done and, more importantly, I wanted to look at what I grabbed from V’s terminal.

As an answer, Kiwi flicked me fifty thousand eddies that filtered into three of my accounts. “Half and half for the gigs. You did good work, L,” she praised. I’m not sure if she meant it or not. Not because of anything that she did, but… Dr. D and K always sounded like they meant their praise too. Still, it was nice to have the eddies. Twelve hours worth of work and almost made as much as I did in three weeks of squeezing every source of income until they screamed. “You should beat feet. I’ll be burning this rig.”

I nodded, standing up and only then that I noticed how sore my back was. Reaching into my pocket, I took a huff of my inhaler. “See you around?” I tried, meeting Kiwi’s pink eyed gaze.

“Likely,” she allowed, gesturing to the door, a clear dismissal if there ever was one. I was almost at the door before she spoke up, “If you want a chance at running together, then invest some of that into a decent rig. A laptop won’t cut it in this biz.”

Advice duly noted, I left Kiwi’s apartment and I was already sorting through the snapshots of every single file I had copied from V. I could only lament that I didn’t get to scour all of Arasaka for any mention of the Home for Wayward Boys as I rode down the elevator. My thoughts were consumed by what I had found -- an agent that was actively hunting me, evidence of something called Element Zero… but my focus was on something else entirely.

The file name was HWB. Home for Wayward Boys. The file that I copied from V? The undoctored file that she uploaded?

HWG.

Home for Wayward Girls.

…

I sat on the bed in my apartment, holding two shard-like implants that Doc had taken out of my back. They glowed with a soft whitish-blue hue along the edge while the center of the shard was a purplish black. My mind went back to that test -- moving the blocks with our minds. We worked on some weird things at the orphanage, but psionics had been a first. Worse, it had worked, and because of it, R died. A was dying when I found him.

Getting the implant to work killed whoever managed it. Only L-6 had managed to get a block to move in my group, and he hadn’t hemorrhaged by the time I made my escape, but that didn’t mean he didn’t afterward. Questions swirled in my mind -- what was Element Zero? What did Arasaka and Militech want with it? Why were they experimenting on us? What did they hope to gain?

What was the Home for Wayward Girls? Was it another orphanage like the one that I grew up in? Were they experimenting on them too? I… I was so fucking far over my head trying to get the boys out, and now I had to get a thousand girls out too?

The pressure was crushing. It felt like an unfathomable weight was tossed on my shoulders and every bone was creaking underneath the strain. Like I was drowning almost. I tossed the plugs onto the cover of my bed, resting my head in my hands while a foot bounced in place. I had money. Just not enough. I had some tech… just not anything very good. David had coached patience and as much as I knew he was right, it was getting harder and harder to do nothing but prepare.

I had to do something.

A charge has been spent:

Gundam: GN Particles -- 1

As if emboldened by the thought, I leaped to my feet and grabbed a hoodie. Tucking the Nue pistol into its harness, I stepped into my garage like a man possessed and uploaded a blueprint into the fabricator. It rattled off the necessary materials needed and I started tossing whatever I had available intothe recycler, uncaring of what it was or the loss in materials. Only to see that I was coming up short when it came to materials like gold, titanium, and other synthetic metals.

Gritting my teeth, I stomped out of the garage, I looked around the area. It wasn’t hard to find a pile of trash bags and with little care for the stench, I grabbed two of them and ripped them open. I had enough juice to run the machine once after about twenty hours of charging it up. Meaning that I had to dump the trash out and shift through it for items that had a decent material yield. The stench went unnoticed as I shifted through garbage, staining my hands with filth as I started to toss together a pile of broken electronics and materials.

Two bags became five. Then ten. Then thirty. People watched me, passing by and muttering in quite disgust, but I paid them no mind at all. Filthy and absolutely reeking, I shoved my haul into a mostly intact trash bag and marched back to my apartment, and shoved the entire bag into the recycler.

It hurt a bit to see how utterly inefficient the machine was, losing half of the yield. I didn’t care, though. Not when it began to spit out material cubes -- Titanium, gold, silver, and other materials used in electronics. Grabbing them, I wasted no time slotting them into the fabricator. It spun as it began to cycle up, the laser grid passing over an item that slowly took shape.

When it was done, I held up my prize.

A core component. The first of many that would be coming, but it was a first step to building my ultimate goal.

Energy was motion. It wasn't something that could be created or destroyed -- it was only something that could become inactive or active. To that end, electricity was just electrons moving, creating a magnetic field, which created an electric charge. That motion could be facilitated and harnessed by a wide variety of things -- the rising and falling of the ocean waves, harnessing the wind to turn turbines that would generate the electric charge, and so on. Heat, movement, sunlight. Energy could be harnessed from anything.

However, energy could not be created. One of the cardinal rules of the universe. Sadly. That wasn't to say that plenty of people hadn't tried over the years. No one knew what the ultimate goal looked like, but there was a name for it. A self-perpetuating machine.

It was impossible to make. That being said, what I held in my hand was the first step to the next best thing.

A name floated in my mind as I began to work -- a GN Generation Furnace.

Going online, I started to make a slew of purchases while I let the Skeleton Key run in the background. My target was obvious -- the Home for Wayward Boys. Making preparations was fine, but I needed to make active progress to get everyone out or I was going to go crazy. I might have already, with how I began to work. The batteries died in both the recycler and the fabricator, giving me the time I needed to start disassembling the recycler.

Like I expected, I found the filters were full of waste and I did what I could to salvage what was left over, but my main focus was improving the recycler to massively increase its efficiency. With the fabricator getting all of the juice, I managed to spin it up once an hour later so it could start spitting out tools and parts for the recycler. Hours and hours went by and I mindlessly worked, letting the Skeleton Key work its magic in the background.

Paying extra for same-day delivery proved to be worth it, even if it did cause me physical pain to see that in a day, I had spent fifteen thousand eddies. That was a full transplant and gene encryption for one of the kids getting out on top of a new ID. But I had to ignore my screaming conscience in favor of building the tools that I would need to get them out in the first place.

The recycler slowly started to piece itself back together with new and improved parts. Running the wastage through it once it was back up and running, I saw that the efficiency for the disassembly jumped from fifty percent to about seventy-five percent. Still not as high as I would like it, but it was better to lose a fourth of everything that I put into it instead of half. It was as I was waiting for the batteries to charge back up a bit that I got a call from an unknown number.

"I see that Kiwi's recommendation didn't come without good reason," I heard the fixer that Kiwi introduced me to speak in my ear as I sat at my computer, designing the GN Furnace. I had a core component already, but I needed three other things -- a flywheel to harness the energy, stability control to stabilize the output and something to act as a carburetor. Not sure what yet.

I had no idea what the fixer's name was. "You don't strike me as the type to dole out compliments for no reason," I remarked, my voice gruffer than I intended. A glance at the clock showed me that it was three in the morning. Counting the gig, I've been working for a day straight and it still felt like it wasn't enough.

"Straight to the point. Excellent. This is a courtesy call -- Netrunners capable of brushing against Arasaka are rare, and those willing to are even rarer. Keep this number, L. I'll be calling you when I have work for you," he stated, ending the call with a click. I frowned as my hands worked mindlessly, the GN Furnace taking shape within the computer while the material requirements became more and more expensive.

"You never told me your name," I muttered, sighing to myself. Shaking my head, I turned to refocus on my work once again, only to find that the call broke me out of my trance-like state. What a prick. Well, at least he paid well.

Pushing my chair back, I realized I could smell myself and that I smelled like hot garbage. My body moved on autopilot while I ventured off to get a shower. Prick or not, the guy was a fixer that could do business in Afterlife, marking him as a major league fixer. The difference between major league and little league wasn't exactly clear to me, but I knew the theory.

Major league fixers came to mercs with jobs that paid out in the tens of thousands of eddies. The job that we did? Fifty thousand eddies if I did it solo. With Regina, I was getting a thousand or two a pop. So, I found myself looking forward to getting a call from the guy if he had work as I was getting out of a shower, munching on something that I got out of a vending machine on my way back to my apartment.

Feeling moderately refreshed, I went right back to work on designing the generator that would solve all of my needs. And like a glove, I slipped right back into the trance-like state that I had honed back in the orphanage. I just worked, blocking out any distraction-

"L! Yo! Llllllllllll!" I heard, abruptly snapping me out of the trance as soon as I entered it, it felt like. Whipping around, the sound of Becca calling out for me was accompanied by the sound of her smashing a hand on the garage door. "You better be dead in there or I won't forgive you for ignoring my calls!"

Calls? Oh.

It seems like I hadn't just entered the trance-like state. Because it was eight o'clock. At night.

Grabbing the door and swinging it up, I saw a thoroughly annoyed-looking Becca standing on the other side, her oversized arms crossed over her chest in an almost comical display. Almost immediately, she kicked me in the shin as soon as she saw me. "Answer your phone, you gonk. Kiwi let it slip that you worked together, then it was radio silence. Idiot."

"Sorry," I said, letting Becca inside the garage and she looked around the place in bafflement. It got a little… messy since I started working. "I got caught up in work. Did you need something?"

"Not particularly," Becca responded, peeking at the recycler that was next to the leaning tower of packaging for a number of materials that were scattered across the floor. Based on her tone, I don't think that it was nothing. "What's this stuff for?"

"Project that I'm working on," I responded.

"For the big rescue op?" Becca questioned, scooting a wrench away with her heel to see an etch in the floor. At the center of the garage was a rough outline of the space that the MK.1 GN generator would take up. My initial estimate was that it was going to fill up the garage.

I twitched at the reminder that the op just got a lot bigger in scope. "Yeah," I answered, earning a look from Becca. There was an uneasy tension in her posture that I didn't normally see. "What's going on, Becca?"

"Has David seemed… weird to you?" Becca asked me, throwing herself into my office chair and I became keenly aware that my designs were out and in the open. Luckily, Becca had no interest in the blueprints.

That caught my attention, "Weird in what way?"

"He’s been actin’ off. Zoning out a fair bit before a mission and after, he’s been actin’ like a real recluse. Did a job busting up some Maelstrom gangoons, and during the gig, he was same old David. Before and after, though… something is itching at him," Becca informed.

"When was this?" I asked, grabbing a wrench to start assembling some odds and ends to expand upon the GN Furnace. The pieces still had to be put together, after all.

"Tonight. You didn't get an invite since we had Kiwi," Becca offered, but I shrugged. I wasn't exactly a member of David's team. I wanted independence, and he gave it to me. I was more of a Solo than a team player. Though, I knew if anyone asked, he would say that it was because the gigs that he went on with the others would be too much for a rookie with a month of experience under his belt.

"Last I saw him was on my… birthday," I answered, fitting pieces together. "He seemed fine, but I was kind of out of it."

"See any shakes?" Becca questioned me sharply, making me frown as I glanced up at her with a question in my eyes. "Maine. The old leader of the crew that took David in? Went cyberpsycho and killed Dorio, his output. Looking back, there were a lot of signs that Maine was chroming up too fast. Dorio was getting really worried, but… we looked away cuz he was Maine, and you don't think something like that is going to happen to someone you know." Becca muttered, leaning forward as she picked up a very delicate piece of equipment with her oversized hands and twirled it around.

"And you're seeing the signs in David?" I echoed, my gut clenching.

"Nah. Well… no," Becca hedged, sounding like she wasn't sure herself. "Could be nothing. It's probably nothing. But I've never seen David shaken like that before."

"And he wouldn't talk about it?"

"Tried. He just brushed me off. I think it's a dude thing and he thinks he needs to look tough about whatever's bothering him. You're a dude, so…" she made a gesture that meant absolutely nothing, yet somehow conveyed her meaning perfectly.

David needed my help? "Course," I quickly replied, setting what I was working on down. "I can't promise anything, but I'll talk to him. I-" I started, only to be cut off by a ding from my computer. My heart just about leapt out of my throat as I recalled what it was. The Skeleton Key. It had something.

"Wha- woah!" Becca exclaimed when I rolled her out of the way to see what the Skeleton Key got. It slipped through the first layer of ICE, granting me a level deeper than what everyone else would see. "What's got into you?" Becca questioned as I flipped through the information at a rapid pace, a subprogram working to flag anything that seemed important.

It brought up the people that worked there. Photos and information.

A fist slammed down on the counter, bouncing a coffee cup hard enough that it tipped over. My face twisted into a snarl as I glowered at the screen and I could feel a concerned look that Becca was giving me. "L, what's wrong? What's gotten into you?"

It took me a second to respond. I wanted to howl wordlessly to vent how I felt as I looked at who worked at the orphanage.

A woman. Light brown hair, a pretty face, and warm brown eyes stared back at the camera that took the photo.

"Dr. K," I bit the words out, gripping the edge of the desk with white knuckles. With the first layer of ICE gone, I could look within the public spaces. A camera feed of her entering an elevator was up, the date marked? Today. "She’s still alive. I killed her to escape."

I broke Dr. D's neck. I bashed open Dr. K's head. I didn't think about it. I hadn't. Not until now. In my mind, they were dead, but I knew better now. I knew how they could still be alive.

Trauma Team. A quick look proved that Dr. K had gold coverage.

"What are you plannin' to do, L? You know going after her is just going to put the spotlight back on ya'," Becca advised as I struggled to control my breathing. She was alive. I killed them -- Dr. D and Dr. K -- but Dr. K was still alive. It was galling. Maddening. It felt like a bandage had just been ripped off a wound that had barely begun to heal because… they were the ones that did the experiments. They were the faces we saw when we woke up and realized that maybe we wouldn't be leaving the room alive.

Them being dead gave me a peace that I hadn't realized that I had until it was ripped away. Dr. K was still alive.

Becca was right. I knew she was right because V had her in her sight. I'm not sure if V knew about what they did to us, but Arasaka notified her of a potential target of retaliation. It completely slipped by me because I had far more important revelations like the Wayward Home for Girls.

I wanted to tear off and put Dr. K in the fucking ground, for good this time. However, I took a breath and remembered the very first thing that David taught me. Losing my shit and reacting. Every time I did it, everything got worse

"Dr. K," I decided, forcing myself to think how to leverage this now that she was alive again. "She's going to be my ticket in."

And once I got what I wanted from her? This time, I was going to make sure she fucking stayed dead.