Corroded Cells Read online

  CORRODED CELLS

  A Cyberpunk Saga

  Book 2

  MATTHEW A. GOODWIN

  Independently published via KDP

  Copyright© 2019 Matthew Goodwin

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording without either the prior permission in writing from the publisher as expressly permitted by law or under the terms agreed.

  The author’s moral rights have been asserted.

  ISBN Number 978-1-7340692-9-7

  Editor: Bookhelpline.com

  Cover design by Coversbychristian.com

  For my parents, who always supported my creative endeavors and my brother, who played makeshift D&D with me when no one else would.

  PART 1

  Chapter 1

  Moss stood on the roof of an aging apartment building, the heavy fog glowing from the street signs below. It was time. Any moment now the convoy would pass just overhead. He stood in waiting—a snake ready to strike. Patchwork had hacked the log and had the schedule down to the second. This run was for him. He needed new hardware for his computers, and while it was very expensive on the black market, it was free to steal from D2E—the entertainment conglomerate who ran the world’s television and internet.

  “You ready?” Moss asked of his friend Gibbs, laying on the roof next to him. He had a long rifle in his hands and was looking through the auto-scoping lens.

  “You knowdely know it, Neddy,” he said in an impression of some long-forgotten television show or movie which Moss didn’t recognize. Gibbs had been learning to shoot and was getting better. After the big raid against ThutoCo, Gibbs had felt useless and demanded someone teach him a skill. He had enjoyed seeing the world from above and calling out what he saw, so shooting from afar seemed to be a good fit.

  They are approaching, Patchwork, their resident breaker and all-around computer whiz said in their minds on their secure network.

  Moss turned on his dronepack and began hovering off the roof. No automated coordinates now—he controlled the movement with his neural implant. Patchwork had unlocked further functionality when he hacked the implant to ensure ThutoCo couldn’t get to him. After they blew up part of the headquarter building, destroying their technology and exposing the evil plan, they had been taking every measure to prepare for retaliation from the megacorporation. None had come yet. Moss lifted his launcher and readied himself as the convoy passed overhead. He fired, feeling the recoil as the arachnotensil cable rocketed forward and magnetized to the side of the transport, and pulled against where the other side had been attached to the roof.

  Moss saw Ynna’s cable fly nearly simultaneously and the two tows stopped the transport dead in the air as the guard cars zipped forward before the programs realized what happened. The transport boosted its thrusters, pulling hard against the anchored cords. Moss and Ynna flew up next to the struggling vehicle as the escorts turned back.

  Gibbs fired a massive, explosive bullet through the engine of one, sending it careening toward the street below, a trail of smoke in its wake. Two passed through the smoke, their targeting disrupted by the plumes. One dropped a mounted machine gun from its base and opened fire on Gibbs—or so it thought. He had set up a small projector to the rear to produce a heated image of himself elsewhere on the roof. Bullets passed through the projection, shredding the tar and drywall down to the rebar.

  Gibbs shot back, the heavy weapon thudding against its bipod, the metal legs sinking into the tar. The bullet whistled through the air, striking the flighted car’s energy converter, causing the machine to sputter and plummet directly down.

  The other two spun back on Gibbs as Ynna and Moss mounted the transport, using heavy lasers to cut the doors open. They had to wear heavy masks and goggles, making it hard to see and maneuver while floating above the city street. There was commotion below, the two downed vehicles stopping traffic and attracting onlookers. People were pointing up, filming with their devices.

  “Time’s running out,” Ynna said as she yanked one of the doors open and clambered inside. Ynna was a smart and capable street samurai who had been running with this crew for a long time. Moss knew if she said they were short on time, they were.

  He dropped his slicer, gloves, and goggles to the ground, the massive weapon landing with a crash atop one of the cars far below. He darted around to the other side and joined Ynna inside as they heard Gibbs take down one more guard car.

  “He’s getting good,” Moss observed. Ynna smiled.

  “Getting there,” she said, looking around and trying to find the specific motherboard Patchwork had told them to look for. “He wastes too much time trying to get us all to watch old movies and shit. Time he could be spending honing a craft.”

  “Cut him some slack,” Moss said absently, his eyes darting around, trying to find the hardware. “This is the most focused I’ve seen him get on anything.”

  “Liar,” Ynna laughed, and Moss paused, turning to look at her while the vehicle shook and pulled, the autopilot still trying to break free.

  Moss stopped a moment to look at her with confusion. “What?”

  “If he had spent half as much energy applying himself to anything as he did playing video games and chasing tail, he could be an expert marksman,” Ynna said, holding the rattling cage of supplies inside the vehicle for support. The space was tight and filled with computer equipment. Patchwork had told them what they were looking for, but it was hard to know exactly.

  “You seeing anything?” Moss asked.

  “Not really,” Ynna said. “All looks the same to me.”

  The vehicle shook violently as one of the escorts passed close overhead, the sound of shells falling on the roof like a brief rain. They both kept looking hurriedly, knowing Carcer Corp would already be on their way. This crew had massive bounties on them, and they could not get caught over something like this. Moss pulled open cabinets, still not finding what they were looking for.

  “It’s got a diamond,” Ynna began helpfully.

  “Diamond in the middle with two red stripes,” Moss filled in. “I remember, he said it a thousand times.”

  An explosion rocked the vehicle, sending it lurching down before the thrusters activated once more.

  “We really have to hurry,” Ynna said, more to herself than to Moss.

  “I know it,” Moss agreed.

  What’s taking you guys? Patchwork asked from the comfort of the safe house, transmitting through a neural network.

  “Looking as fast as we can.” Moss couldn’t help himself from answering aloud.

  It’s got a diamond, Patchwork began.

  “Diamond in the middle with two red stripes,” Moss and Ynna said together. The car rattled and exploded as the remaining escort let forth a barrage on the side of the vehicle.

  “Human control, we have to fucking hurry!” Ynna ordered, knowing the program would never fire its weapons at a car it was escorting. Moss was now throwing things aside, moving through piles of machinery as he looked. Perspiration built on his forehead. It wasn’t supposed to take this long.

  Carcer en route. I intercepted and sent them the wrong way, but it won’t be long ’till they figure it out, Patchwork informed them. His frayed nerves were clear even through the thought message.

  “Shit!” Moss said, shoving some panels out of the way and hearing a loose clink. He looked and saw that there was a false panel behind the equipment. He pried, shoving his fingers behind the panel and pulling hard. It popped loose and revealed the motherboard they were looking for. “Gotcha,” he beamed. Ynna rushed over so Patchwork could look through her augmented eyes.

&
nbsp; That’s it! He told them. Now get out of there. Moss wrapped the motherboard in some loose cloth and placed it delicately in a satchel. They knew one of the guard cars was still circling them.

  “Release cables on my three,” Ynna ordered as she leaped from the door. “One, two,” and Moss jumped out too, ordering his cable to demagnetize. The car lurched forward as he blasted out into the air, the guard car hit on its heels. The human operator shot wide of Moss and Ynna, peppering a nearby building with machine gun fire, spraying chunks of bricks and dust into the air.

  Drones moving in, Patchwork told them. Only two though, he amended. Moss pulled his Kingfisher electron pistol from its holster and waited for the buzz. It only took a moment, but with the sounds of their propellers came an announcement.

  “ThutoCo employee number 06187300, the Carcer Corporation has a message regar—” it began before Ynna blasted one out of the sky while Gibbs destroyed the other.

  “Wait,” Moss yelled, but it was too late, the two drones already littered the street below. Gibbs joined them in the air as the final escort circled back on them for one more pass. They shimmered into projected cloaks and became invisible to the machine gunner sitting at a computer somewhere.

  They flew back to the safe house, Moss wondering the whole time what message Carcer had and why it was for him. They landed and packed up, bringing the new gear to Patchwork.

  “Yessss,” he said excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. “You guys are my heroes.”

  “What was that?” Gibbs asked Moss. “That was your number, right?”

  “It was, and now I want to know,” Moss answered, pulling his gear from his body.

  Ynna looked at them gravely. “I’m sure it was a trap, whatever it was.”

  “No doubt,” Moss agreed, but the broken message piqued his curiosity. He did not know why Carcer had singled him out, but he wanted to know.

  “You still want to know, don’t you?” Ynna rolled her eyes and chucked her gloves quickly at him.

  He caught one as the other thudded against his chest and fell to the ground. “I really do,” Moss admitted.

  “Let me ask you this,” Gibbs began in a serious tone, picking up the glove and handing it back to Ynna.

  “I swear, if you suggest a pros and cons list,” Ynna said, shaking a fist in mock threat.

  “I wasn’t,” he said defensively. “I was going to ask what they could possibly have that we, or more accurately, Moss wants.”

  “I don’t know,” Moss answered. “Issy and her dad are too far underground to be unearthed, and the rest of the crew are just out getting lunch, right?”

  “Yeah, I have a fix on their beacons. They’re fine,” Patchwork said.

  “You don’t think?” Gibbs said suggestively, covering one eye with his hand.

  “No,” Ynna announced. “Burn was one foot in the grave when we left him, and he would never have let himself be taken alive.”

  “Sorry,” Gibbs said. “I was just speaking out loud.”

  “What? As opposed to speaking silently? You mean you were thinking out loud,” she admonished in a tone which was only half-joking. Moss was growing impatient. He knew how she liked to get Gibbs all flummoxed, but now was not the time.

  “Patch, can you get me a line so secure I could receive a message without Carcer tracing it?” Moss asked. Patchwork stroked his chin in theatrical consideration.

  “Not for long, honestly,” he mumbled. He never liked to admit his own limitations. “If they sent a message for the express purpose of catching you, they will have an army of breakers trying to get a fix on us, and I couldn’t stop them all.”

  “Damn,” Moss said. “What about the Church?”

  “You’ve used those servers before, and they will have traced it by now. You probably couldn’t walk within a thousand meters of that place without being picked up,” Patchwork explained. “Now, I mean, if you are dead set on doing this,” he let the moment hang.

  “I am,” Moss said. He had been testing the water at first, but now he wanted to know what Carcer had on him.

  “There are places,” Patchwork said. “Breaker’s dens where we could get you a clean line. But they are dangerous and expensive.”

  “Money, we’ve got,” Ynna said, and it was true. Since they had exposed ThutoCo, many parties had been funneling money to the crews, helping to fund the cause of freedom from the large companies. Many were family members of people who were employees under unbreakable contracts or friends of people jailed in Carcer City.

  Seti, the eye in the sky for all the groups working to fight the companies, somehow rinsed the electronic currency clean and got it out. They were flush. They had bought new weapons and clothes, set up more safe houses and, at Gibbs request, cleaned the one they were currently living in.

  “It’s not money they want,” Patchwork said with a hangdog expression. Moss looked down, patted the satchel and glanced up to see him nodding.

  “At least it won’t go to waste,” Moss offered.

  “It might if it’s nothing more than a trap,” Gibbs noted.

  “Not helping,” Moss snapped as the door from the stairwell opened and Judy and Stan entered. The massive man looked so different now to Moss. He had lost his arm in the ThutoCo attack and was unwilling to have a replacement put on.

  So many people augmented their bodies for vanity reasons or to compete with drudges for jobs, but Stan wanted to remain all human and would not allow it. He was determined not to let it hinder him despite Judy, his lover’s, protestations.

  Unlike Stan, Judy had gone through many surgeries and augmentations in their life to become genderless. They worked as the group’s fixer and made no secret of their desire to see Stan patched. Though Judy loved the man, they had no qualm in telling him how they felt about his choice.

  “What’s doing here?” Stan asked in his slight drawl.

  “Moss wants to get a message from Carcer,” Ynna informed them.

  “It’s a trap,” Judy and Stan said in unison, and Gibbs chuckled to himself.

  “He knows, but you know how he gets,” Ynna said, and the two nodded.

  “Let it go, man,” Stan warned him. “Nothing good will come of engaging with them.”

  “But—” Moss began.

  “But nothing. Seriously, let it drop,” he said, his voice growing low and severe. He turned to Ynna. “How did the mission go?”

  “Good, we got the new toy,” she said.

  “It’s not a toy, and Moss wants to trade it,” Patchwork said like a disappointed child.

  “Just give me the day to think about it,” Moss offered.

  “Fine,” Patchwork said and turned back to his bank of monitors to sulk, feeling even more foolish for suggesting it could be traded away.

  “Where are Grimy and CT?” Ynna asked.

  “Grimy said he’d be right back and CT is at a club, undoubtedly getting shot down by women out of his league,” Stan said with a grin.

  “Oh, and he didn’t bring Gibbs?” Ynna laughed and turned to him. “Getting shot down by girls is kind of a specialty of yours, isn’t it?”

  “My charms aren’t lost on everyone,” Gibbs defended, but Moss could tell he was hurt.

  “It’s true,” Moss put in. “He ever tell you guys about the Butler twins?”

  “Twins?” Ynna guffawed, but Gibbs lit up.

  “Yes!” Gibbs said and regaled them with a tale, leaving out the part that it was robotic counterparts rather than the real thing.

  They all looked relieved as Grimy strode in, a hat box under one arm. The former veterinarian turned street medic loved his finery and could talk ad nauseam about suits and hats the way Gibbs could about girls.

  “You hit my old stomping grounds?” Ynna asked.

  Grimy smiled as he set his box down and began pulling one of his white gloves off one finger at a time. “I did. Redwood Point may be the slum of slums, but Maurice still makes the best hats in the city.”

  Ynna rolled her
eyes. “Man, Grimy, I still can’t believe it was you who brought me into this life,” she said. Ynna had told Moss the story of how she was lying beaten and bloody on the streets when Grimy scared off the thugs and brought her into the crew.

  “Don’t you forget it,” he said with a wink and made his way to the bathroom.

  As he did, the door opened, and Chicken Thumbs walked in.

  Gibbs hooted. “It’s like TV timing in here.”

  Ynna gave him a sideways glance as everyone in the room pretended to ignore Stan and Judy making out and groping each other on a cot.

  “Yeah,” Gibbs said, pointing to CT. “One character exits just as the other enters.”

  “I’m not a character,” CT whined but everyone ignored him.

  “That’s actually pretty clever,” Ynna told Gibbs, giving a little wink. Moss watched as the corner of his friend’s lip turned up slightly.

  Ynna turned to Chicken Thumbs and gave him a playful shove. “Stan said you were off getting laid.”

  CT flushed. “Laying the groundwork.”

  “Aww,” Ynna mocked sympathy. “And what you really wanted to do was lay some pipe.”

  “Fuck off, Ynna,” CT snorted and made his way to the fridge for a beer.

  “Love you, too,” Ynna said and threw the hatbox at him, striking him on the back before falling to the floor.

  From inside the bathroom, Grimy called out, “I heard that.”

  Moss smiled, happy to see his friends happy after a successful mission.

  In the dead of night, he was awakened by a tap on the shoulder and a sweaty palm over his mouth. His eyes went wide with terror until he saw his friend’s face. Gibbs was illuminated by the blue light of the power indicators of all the electronics around the room.

  “Let’s do it,” he whispered softly, holding up the satchel.

  Chapter 2

  Moss slid out of bed. He slept in his clothes so he simply needed to grab his gun and trench coat so they could leave. He pulled his black coat over the black shirt with black jeans which made up his look and smiled. He was happy Gibbs had done this. His night had been fitful, spent tossing and turning, his mind unable to let go. He got geared up as quietly as he could, the sound covered by Stan snoring. They easily navigated the space in the low light and exited into the stairwell, closing the door behind them. They were startled as they turned, Judy looking up at them with high, glassy eyes.