Speaking Out on Nate

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Together At Last

Talia didn’t let the car drive them to their location.  She roared out of Crescendo’s parking lot, forcefully merged with traffic and headed deeper into Stroud.  John sat in the passenger seat thinking about the night, he knew that several people were after the information that the illietheril girl was carrying, what was her name?

John turned in the seat facing the backseat, he could see Eth sitting against the door and the illietheril girl was looking out the window her wide eyes even wider as the city passed by at top speed.  He stuck his hand out, “I’m John.”

The illietheril girl turned from the window and looked at his hand like his hand could be a dangerous animal, “John,” she said like she was mulling over the quality of his name with what she saw in front of her, “my name is Una.”

“Where are you from?”

“The Q-zone.”

The change in the car was instantaneous.  John let his hand drop.  Eth sat a little farther back and Talia leaned forward.  Everyone knew that people from the Q-zone were infected with Markov’s Syndrome.  Catching Markov’s was a death sentence, even if the syndrome didn’t kill you after a long, drawn out illness, you were sentenced to live the rest of your life in the Q-zone.

“The Q-zone,” Talia asked quietly.

“I’m not infected,” Una said forcefully, “I was born there.  My parents were infected, but I was never infected.”

“Oh,” said or muttered everyone in the car.

“I’m not infected,” Una said again, as if repeating the words would be proof enough, “There hasn’t been a case of the infection in the Q-zone in years.”

“That’s not what I hear,” Eth said from his corner of the car.

John shook his head in agreement and Talia kept her eyes on the road, but she was thinking.

The bright lights of City Center were long gone, the mass that was the Tumbledown sat in the distance, when Talia turned the car in an alley.  The car shoved garbage aside.  Talia drove the car about half-way down the alley, turned off the lights and shut the car down.

“This is it,” she said as she got out of the car.

“What is this place,” Eth and Una asked?

“This is the home of the best data-thief in the city and one of the best holo-vid theatres,” Talia said as she pushed open the door.

“Looks like every other abandoned building in the city,” Eth said looking around the alley.

They followed Talia inside the building, with John making sure that everyone got inside.  The room they stepped into was small, undecorated, and every surface was painted black.  A single light illuminated the center of the room.  Talia was having a conversation with slot in a door on the opposite wall when John walked in.

“Just tell Trace, that Talia is here,” Talia said exasperated.

“What are we waiting for,” John asked?

“Trace is very security oriented,” Talia replied.

“John, can I talk to you when we get a moment,” Eth asked John?

“Sure,” John said without taking his eyes off the door slot.

Una was quiet.

“You’ve dealt with this guy before,” John asked?

“Plenty of times and its ways the same,” Talia replied, “He’s careful, which is why he hasn’t been caught or come to anyone’s attention.”

The door opened with a very loud squeal.  Standing on the other side of the door were two herg, wearing all black outfits, carrying very large shotguns.  The herg with the long tusks waved them into the corridor.

“Trace has some time,” he growled in a deep bass.

A short walk down a black hallway and the group arrived at another door, which opened silently.  The room on the other side of the door was well lit.  Computer equipment was piled everywhere.  At first, the impression was a dumping ground for computers, parts and wires, but a closer look revealed a pattern to the mess.  Merged into the middle of the room full of computers was a herg.  Wires connected the herg to the computers from every possible place on his body.  He looked like he was made out of the wires themselves.  As they entered the room, he turned to look at them, both of his eyes glowing red.

“How are you Talia,” came a modulated voice from speakers in the walls, his lips never moved?

“Got a problem,” Talia said, “thought you could help me out.”

“Problem,” the modulated voice asked?

“Give him the stick,” Talia said to Una.

“We need to know what is on this stick,” Talia said to Trace.

Una walked past Talia towards Trace.  She had never seen anything like this before, her steps were small.  She pulled the stick out of her pocket, unsure where to put the stick, she held out her hand.  A tendril of wires ending in a grasping claw slithered out of the mass of wires to gently grab the stick and retreat back into the mass.  Una quickly walked back to the group.

Eth tapped John on the shoulder and gestured to the back off the room.   When John joined him, “I need that data-stick.”

“After we find out what is on it,” John replied.

“I can have the stick after you find out what is on it,” Eth asked questioning tone obvious?

“Yes, why wouldn’t I give it to you,” John said, “Once we get the information you can take the stick and make good with your people.  Understand.”

“Thanks John,” Eth said.

“I cannot break the coding at this moment.  I have disabled the faulty tracking hardware,” Trace’s modulated voice informed them.

“Tracking hardware,” John and Una said at the same time.

“The data-stick had a tracking program, unfortunately the program was faulty sending out signals at random intervals,” Trace informed them.

“How long until you can break the code,” Talia asked?

“A day at most,” Trace replied quickly, “I must inform you that the data-stick was transmitting a tracking signal when you arrived.  Most likely other interested parties are on their way here.  Therefore I must ask you to leave.”

“What about the data-stick,” John, Talia and Eth asked at the same time.  Talia looked at Eth and Eth shrugged his shoulders.

“I have transferred a copy of the data, you can have the stick back if you like.”

“Wait.  I have an idea,” John said urgently, “Eth, you want to take the stick back to your people right?”

Eth looked around at everyone before responding, “Yes, it would make my life a lot easier.  Plus you owe me.”

“If we give you the stick will you go the opposite way that we go?  Go back to your people and keep quiet about us,” John asked, hand on gun?

“Sure, not a problem,” Eth responded.

“Trace, can you turn the tracking signal back on,” John asked?

“Yes.”

“Do that and give the stick to Eth.  Eth get the stick and leave,” John ordered.

Eth approached Trace and got the stick from a wire tendril.  Eth left quickly without a word.

“Now they have the information,” Talia almost shouted at John.

“If Trace is the best and it will take them a day, how long do you think it will take them,” John asked?

“What if they have the key,” Talia asked incredulous?

“I…well let’s hope they don’t,” John replied looking rather embarrassed, “At least they won’t be after us for a little while.”

“I will contact you when I get the information,” Trace announced to the room, “Please exit the building.”

“Where will we hide,” Una asked.

“Tumbledown,” John and Talia replied as they headed out of the building.

Note from management: There may be one last Stroud story, then there will be a break until I get I see how much work this college semester is going to require.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Guest of Honor

Una was instantly overwhelmed.  The taxi the man with the kind eyes had gotten for her stopped on the third floor of a giant building that looked like the entire thing was exploding with color and sound.  The door of the taxi opened automatically and there were people pulling her out of the taxi, helping her stand up and then ushering her past two rows of screaming people who suddenly realized who she was and were confused.   Una wasn’t even sure who she was as she was ushered inside the building where the noise, lights and entire environment threatened to overwhelm her and bring her to her knees.  She ducked down and covered her ears while trying to find a quiet place.  Was that even possible her?  There were people everywhere, even floating in the air, the noise was non-stop and the lights seemed to have a life of their own.

John crossed the club to the stairs in a few quick bounds.  Fade’s corner booth and his prior planning ensured that a path up the stair opened effortlessly.  John wove through the people on the stairs reaching the two Red Hand initiates before they realized that something was amiss.  Two chromed bouncers materialized out of the crowd at the top of the stairs, their metallic arms and enhanced eyes obvious when the lights of the club flashed off of them.  The two Red Hand’s pulled up short, John stepped up behind one and punched him in the kidney while propelling him up the stairs.  The other Red Hand turned towards John and never saw the fist from one of the bouncers that crushed his jaw.  In, seconds the two gang-member wannabes were absorbed into the club as the bouncers carried them off.  Nobody had reacted to the scene at all.  Talia, raced past John rounding the top of the stairs, headed to the third floor.  Eth, stopped next to John, his hands on his knees.

“I’ll wait here,” he said out of breath.

John raced after Talia.

Una found a dark corner just to the right of the door to hunker down.  She looked around and only saw people wearing clothing, and things that she didn’t even know exist.  Even with her hands over her ears, the music was overwhelming.  At least nobody was looking at her.  She couldn’t believe that she was supposed to meet anyone here, how would they talk?

Talia crested the stairs to the third floor knocking drinks out of several people’s hands.  Curses followed her, drowned out by the music, as she headed for the illietheril girl crouched in a corner.  John barreled into the same people that Talia had just encountered.  He stepped over one of them ignoring their shouts.  He reached around to his back as he ran after Talia, the grip of his backup pistol felt reassuring.  John was positive that he was going to need the gun tonight.

The three men in black club wear had reached the third floor before Talia or John, they were half-way across the floor wading through the crowd when one of them spotted Talia and then John.  With a nod, all three pulled out pistols.  The bouncers reacted instantly and were shot down for their dedication to their job.  Only the people standing next to the gunmen heard the shots.  They reacted by running away, unfortunately for some that way was in the same direction as the gunmen.  The panic moved quickly through Crescendo like ripples in a pond.  Within a half of a second the second and third floors were in a complete panic running for the exits.  The dance floor was pandemonium when the people from the other floors ran onto the dance floor in a panic.

The music stopped instantly, the lights went on, bouncers turned into traffic directors using their bulk and muscle to stand in place making sure everyone got out.

On the second floor, Talia was standing next to the illietheril girl trying to get her attention over the noise, but her hands were firmly clamped over her ears.  What was this girl doing, Talia thought.  The girl looked up at Talia right when the first wave of people went screaming by.  Talia was knocked against the wall.  Una, shrank closer to the wall, what had the world come too.  John barreled into the wave of panicked people, plowing through or over them making his way to Talia.

“Are you okay,” he shouted just as the music stopped.

“I’m fine,” Talia replied.

The music stopped, but Una could hear the people screaming and running, something must have gone wrong.  She looked around, she could see people fleeing past her and to her side was the woman who had been standing over here.  Una crawled over to the woman.

“What is going on,” Una asked looking around?

“We’re here to get you,” Talia said, “Are you okay?”

“Overwhelmed,” Una mumbled when the first bullet struck the wall just above her head, “What the fuck!”

“We don’t have time to explain, stick with us and we will get you out of here,” Talia shouted as she grabbed Una’s arm pulling her up as she moved past John.

At the first shot, John drew his gun and stepped past Talia and the illietheril girl.

“Get her out of here,” John shouted.

“Where,” Talia shouted.

“Fade will know.”

The three men were moving towards them firing as they were moving.  At least one of them was using the club wall as cover, while the other two were shooting and moving.  As soon as Talia and the girl ran past John he took cover near the door and started shooting back; hoping to hit them, but mostly hoping that his shooting back would slow them down.  No, so such luck, the one taking cover dropped to one knee, started shooting at John which forced him to stay in cover.  The other two ran across the floor.

John didn’t see who shot the two men or who took out the third gun man, but soon “all clear” was shouted throughout the club.   When John stepped away from the door, he saw four of the club’s bouncers standing over the men, giving the bodies a kick and kicking their weapons away.  John nodded a thanks to the bouncers and headed down to Fade’s booth.

Talia, the illietheril girl, Eth and Fade were standing next to his booth talking when John ran up.

“Did I miss anything,” John asked trying to catch his breath?

“I told you the street was listening,” Fade said to him, “I suggest that you take her to your best data-thief and find out what is on this stick,” he said to Talia and Una.

Fade handed the data-stick to Una.   He had already used his fingertip readers to make copies of all of the information on the stick.  Fade had all of the time to sort through the security later.

“Sounds like a plan,” John and Talia said simultaneously, “I know the best man in the city and we can get there in an hour,” Talia finished up.

“Una,” Fade said, “stay with these people they will get you and your information where it needs to go.”

“How…” Una started.

“Fade just knows shit,” John, Talia and Eth said at the same time.

“I have to go listen to the street and it looks like you have more interested parties to deal with,” Fade said nodding towards the front door, “I suggest you get going.”

At the door bouncers were preventing the message man from entering, but steadily losing ground.

“My car is out back,” Talia said, “lets go.”

Fade had already disappeared, but in his place was a large korogin bouncer with very chromed arms standing in his place.

“The boss says I am to escort you to your car follow me please,” he growled.

The bouncer turned without checking to see if they were following and started walking to the back of the club.  Talia watched his hands turn into large caliber firearms as he walked away.  They followed the bouncer to the back door where they found Talia’s car waiting for them.

“Have a good night,” the bouncer said as they got into the car and drove off.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Arrival

Crescendo had been open an hour before the first visitor arrived at the booth.  Talia and Fade had been carrying on a conversation for most of that hour, leaving John to people watch.  Unfortunately, club goers were not the people he wanted to watch.  John was pretty sure that he saw at least two Red Hand initiates in the bar, but that could be coincidence.  Everyone seemed to be having a good time.  John wasn’t, until the first visitor arrived at the table.

Well dressed in a black suit and tie complete with cliché sunglasses, this human was all business and obviously muscle for someone else.  John glanced at Fade and Talia to see what their reactions were.  Fade glanced up from his drink and Talia kept talking to Fade about whatever they had been carrying on about.  John had never seen Fade this talkative ever.

The man stood there for close to a minute without moving.  Fade didn’t look up at him the entire time.  John knew that Fade had given the man a chance to say something, he hadn’t, so as far as Fade was concerned the man wasn’t there.  John however, was wondering what the man wanted.

“Hey,” John shouted!

“Hey,” John shouted a second time, in case the man was deaf from the music!

The man’s head rotated around and down to view John.  Neat trick, John thought.

“What do you want?  Your blocking my view,” John said sarcastically.

“I’m here to deliver a message,” the man said barely moving his lips and in a tone that said he would be just as happy to stand there until the club closed as he would to deliver the message.

“Well,” John started, “go on.”

“Mr. Slade has a car waiting outside, along with a substantial reward for anyone that brings the courier or the information that she is carrying to the car.”

“That it,” John asked sarcastically?

“The big man is not making a move, just an offer,” Fade asked in a whisper?

The man’s head rotated from John to Fade.

“That is correct.  Mr. Slade is only offering a reward,” the man said flatly.

His message delivered the man turned and made his way through the crowd, which parted before him.  John watched him until he left the club.

“What was that all about,” Talia asked?

“That was a message from up high to the street,” Fade responded.

“And that message was,” Talia followed up?

“The powers that be are going to stay out of the way.  Only pick up the pieces,” Fade looked at John as he finished his sentence.

John held up his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, I didn’t have anything to do with this.  Remember I am just tracking down a missing bounty.”

Fade returned his gaze to the dance floor.  Eth slid into the booth next to John, grabbed his drink and slammed the drink down.

“Do you believe that they made me wait in the Line,” Eth asked?

“I can’t believe they let you in,” John retorted.

Talia was looking at Eth carefully, “You were in the alley?”

“Yes, that was me,” Eth said, “Have I missed anything?”

“Not yet,” Fade said as he was looking up at the third floor balcony where the VIPs arrived.

Stepping into the club through the VIP entrance was a young illietheril woman who instantly closed her eyes and brought her hands over her ears.  She was obviously not dressed for the club.  John saw the two Red Hand initiates move towards the stairs and a group of three men in dark club wear move towards the stairs on the second floor where they had been standing.

“I think that is our guest,” Fade said.

John shoved Eth out of the way and headed for the stairs.  Talia followed behind with Eth tailing her.

Previously: Crescendo

John and Talia arrived at Crescendo before the doors opened.  There was no line.  They knocked on the door.  The bouncer that answered the door let them inside without a word.  Talia gave John a “how” look and he gave her his “because it’s me look.”  Both were laughing as they entered the empty club.  John was wearing his usual outfit of black military-style pants, combat boots, black shirt and his City Police vest with all of the SCPD insignia removed.  Talia was wearing an overcoat with a holo-pattern of a forest that constantly grew, flowered and moved over the entire surface of the overcoat.  Under the overcoat were black pants with a wide holo-stripe running down the legs that displayed Aleu-Fashion logo over and over.  Her shirt was black with some reflective material.  John walked across the club with Talia in tow over to the booth where he knew Fade was going to be.  Even from across the club he could see Fade’s Lennons.

“We are going to meet with Fade,” John said, “He will know what we know and more.”

“The Fade,” Talia asked, “I thought he was a myth of the streets.”

“No, he’s real.  A real pain,” John replied.

“I’m looking forward to this,” Talia said.

Fade was sitting at the back of his booth in the darkness.  Three drinks were sitting on the table.  John instantly recognized his favorite drink, KoroKick as one of the drinks.  Fade gestured for them to sit.  John had barely gotten seated.

“I see you did not heed my warning,” Fade said to John without looking at John, “Miss Knox I watch your show every night.  I think you will find that Sur-unne Sunrise to your liking.”

“How did you know,” Talia asked?

“He just knows stuff,” John shot out before Fade could reply.  The interruption didn’t seem to bother Fade at all.

“Why are we here,” Talia asked John?

“Because I know stuff,” Fade responded with some irony in his voice.

“Yes, because Fade knows something about Red Twist, his gang, the gun running or whatever it is they are doing,” John said with some irritation in his voice.

“I do, but we have to wait for everyone else to arrive.  I told you the street was paying attention.  Tonight we shall see what the street has to say,” Fade said.

The lights in the club dimmed, the club lights came on, thumping bass music began playing.  From the back of the club the waiters, hostesses, bartenders and bouncers moved to their places in the club.  Dancers came out a few minutes later and found their places, most of them hovering above the dance floor with at least one light on them.  Within minutes Crescendo was alive.   The front doors opened and people began to enter one at a time.

“Enjoy yourself, we are waiting,” Fade said.

****

Eth pulled into the parking lot an hour late.  Damn that truck he couldn’t get around, Eth thought and cursed out loud as he headed towards the end of The Line.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Kind Eyes

Crescendo was alive tonight; lights flashing skyward, holo-dancers danced and strutted across the sides of the building, and the edges and corners of the building flashed in time with the beat of the music.  The music created a bubble that people had to step through on their way to stand in line.  The line that moved at regular pace and had rules that only the foolish violated, chromed-over muscled security walked up and down outside the line removing any problem-makers, usually with a grab, yank and toss out of the line.  The offender’s face was quick captured and broadcast on the holo-display for all within eyesight to see and to the doorman.  Once broadcast you never got into Crescendo ever again.  That was a black mark nobody wanted.

The line was a show in and of itself, the rich and powerful, the famous, the infamous and the everyday wageslave all had to stand in the line.  There was no list.  There was no, “getting in because you knew someone.”  You were nobody in the line.  Outside of the line, you were someone.  Scandal sheets formed their own line outside the line recording the rich and famous, when they got the opportunity they would do on-the-spot interviews.  Unlike the line, which had rules and rule enforcers, outside the line was a wild zone.  Brawls were an every night event, murder never ruled out and the police only arrived after the fact and when more than one crime was committed.  They relied on the chromed-enforcers to take care of outside the line.

No matter who you were Crescendo is where you went when you wanted a good time and to be seen having a good time.  Have too good of a time and that could be taken care of, for a price or if you caused problems that could be broadcast to anyone interested.  The music was loud, and cutting edge.  Only the best, popular and trendy was played at Crescendo and Crescendo often set the trends.  Bands seeking to make a name for themselves went to Crescendo.  Playing at the Crescendo was a sign that the band was on the rise, for all to keep an eye on them.

As much organization as there was around Crescendo there were exceptions, Fade was an exception.  Fade was easily recognizable for his long hair, real black leather jacket and Lennon’s that he word.  He was always the first non-employee inside.  He never waited in line, he had never been seen in line or for that matter leaving.  He just was inside.  Fade had his own corner.  Nobody ever violated his corner, there were stories about people who had violated his corner, they never ended well for the violator.

Fade was connected, a central matrix, where information flowed into and out of.  He knew everything that was going on at any time.  Tonight, Fade knew that he was going to be visited by several individuals, all seeking the same thing.  Fade was ready.  Crescendo was ready.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Contact

Una was on the floor when the taxi “landed.”  She didn’t know where the taxi had landed, but thankfully whoever was shooting at her had stopped for the moment.  She was just about to peek out the window when the interior of the taxi was flooded with a light that all Q-zoners know well an enforcement ‘luminator.  Una heard the announcement, City Police, they should be able to help her.  Una peeked over the back of the driver’s seat.  Standing in front of the ruined taxi cab was a human male wearing a black suit and carrying a rather large pistol.  He didn’t look authority; he looked like the people you needed to know to survive in the Q-zone.  Turning slightly to her right she could see a korogin male dressed in a black suit carrying a large rifle and he was not looking up at the source of the ‘luminators he was looking at her.

Una ducked and moved to the opposite of the passenger compartment.  Should she open the door and take her chances?  Should she hope that this city’s police actually did something?

“Drop your weapons, raise your hands and power down the vehicle or we will fire on you,” ordered at least two different voices from above.

****

Ralt looked over at Tarro.  Tarro shrugged.  Ralt nodded. Orts gunned the engine and lept off the roof driving straight at two of the cruisers.  Ralt dropped to one knee, putting his rifle to shoulder and firing on automatic at one of the cruisers.  The sound of the rifle was deafening.  Tarro ducked around the taxi, on the same side as Ralt, his pistol aiming high.

One of the ‘luminators went dark, the other two were moving about randomly as the cruisers moved to avoid the rifle fire and Ort’s truck.  Ralt and Tarro watched as Ort flew off as fast as the truck would go immediately followed by the cruiser with the blackened ‘luminator, its roof lights flashing. The other two cruisers pulled up higher, then began shooting using the vehicle mounted chain-guns.  Within seconds the roof and the roof of the taxi were covered in impact craters from the chain-guns.  If the sound of Ralts firing his rifle was deafening, the sound of chain-guns was a clarion call that the end was nigh.

****

Una waited by the door for the korogin to shoot her, but the shots never came, instead he started shooting at the police.  As soon as he started shooting she opened the door and dropped down on the side of the taxi.  When one of the ‘luminators went dark, una bolted from the taxi across the roof top.  The other ‘luminators were casting crazy shadows as the cruisers moved to avoid a truck rushing at them and more fire from the korogin.  By the time she had reached a roof access door the cruisers were tearing the rooftop and front of the taxi to shreds.  Una didn’t wait to see how the situation resolved; she opened the door and ran down the stairs.  Una stayed on the staircase, eventually they would end, hopefully on street level where she could get her bearings.

****

The rooftop was shredded, the taxi was holed in so many places that Tarro could see through it and Ralts had ran out of ammunition.  When the cruisers stopped firing, Tarro threw his pistol across the roof, followed by Ralt’s rifle, then he and Ralt stood up with their hands in the air.  At least Ort had gotten away and could continue chasing the girl.  A night in lock-up wouldn’t be so bad, Tarro thought as one of the cruisers landed.

****

Una was out of breath, her sides hurt and her legs were sending her brain a message that would go no further when she burst out of the stairwell onto a well-appointed lobby.  She staggered over to a couch next to a wall of elevators ignoring the stares of everyone in the lobby and on their way to or from the elevators.  Head in hands, elbows on knees she spent several minutes catching her breath and taking stock of her situation.  Carrying something that other people wanted, in a city where she knew nobody, chased by well-armed individuals and without a ride.  Well, at least the police in this city did their job; that was a good sign.

Una found a drinking fountain and some vending machines near the elevators; a quick drink and a bag of sort of cheese-flavored chip and she was feeling better.  Walking out of the front door of the building, Una realized, truly realized, that she was not in the Q-zone.  A highway; four lanes deep, of flying cars raced past the landing zone she found herself on.  The wind was constant and strong. Three men in fancy red outfits greeted each car that stopped at the zone and escorted the people inside the building.  Nobody paid her any mind.  Stepping up to the edge of the landing zone, Una looked up; neon, glass, holos, more lanes of flying traffic, walkways that stretched from one building to another in the distance, lights and more as far as she could see.  She couldn’t even see the top of the building she was in, where she hoped the police had captured those men.  Looking out, the city spread out before her to the horizon, in those few spots that weren’t blocked by a humongous towering building.  Gulping, she looked down and could see that she was far above the ground.

“Is there something I can assist you with ma’am,” an elderly human male in the red outfit asked?

Una stepped back from the edge.  He was wearing a red-coat that touched the ground, some sort of holo-logo was on the right breast of the coat and he was holding a black hat in his hands.  He had kind eyes; she wasn’t sure why that stood out to her.

“I’m lost.  I need to get to this place,” Una said reaching into her pocket and pulling out the chip, “Can you tell me how to get there?”

The man took the chip, flipped it over and handed the chip back to her.

“Wait here a second,” he said as he moved over to a kiosk that she hadn’t noticed.  He came back shortly, “I have arranged for a taxi to take you directly to Crescendo which is three blocks away.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, have a good evening.”

Previously: Stories From Stroud: One Call Closer

“There it is,” Ort said, while pointing at a taxi flying a half-a-block in front of them.

“Scanner agrees,” Ralt agreed, “What’s the plan?”

“We have orders that she can’t reach her contact.  Let’s follow the cab for a little while longer and see if we get a clear shot,” Tarro ordered from the back.

****

Twist was sitting on a stack of crates with the word “highly explosive” painted diagonally across every surface.  His new hand was drumming an impatient beat on the top of the nearest box, while his other hand was holding an Impact Hole-Punch pistol that wasn’t pointed at anyone in front of him direct, but also not pointed away either.

“Do not come back without the chip,” Twist said in his “I’m trying to be reasonable” voice, “I don’t care what you have to do to get the chip, but I want that chip in my hands.”

A chorus of grunts, groans and ascents let Twist know that they would do everything in their power to find the courier and the chip.  That they would stir up some trouble doing so was a good thing, let the city know that he was back in charge.   As a group they headed to their bikes, he could hear the rumble and roar of the bikes as his men took off in search of the girl in groups of three and four.

****

Eth got in his car, but not before eating slowly and watching everyone who came and went.  Only when everyone had left and nobody had come in for fifteen minutes did he get up from the table, pay the bill and leave the restaurant.  Exiting the restaurant he didn’t walk straight to his car, but away and around the block.  Best to be safer than sorry he thought the entire circuitous route around the restaurant, shops and to his car from the opposite side.

****

“Get us close to the taxi, we are running out of time,” Tarro said impatiently to Ort, “Get your weapons ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Ort and Ralt replied.

Ort accelerated, pulling close to the taxi.  He couldn’t see anyone in the back seat.

“Are you sure this is the right taxi,” he asked?

“Why,” Tarro sounded annoyed, was looking at the scanner, “We are getting a clear signal, what we are after is in that taxi.”

“Look, there is nobody in the back.”

“Pull us alongside.”

Ort merged into the next lane of sky traffic, pulling alongside the taxi.  He glanced over and almost smacked himself in the head with the flat of his hand.  No wonder he couldn’t see her from the rear, she was an illietheril, not much bigger than a human child.  She was looking around and even looked over at him.

“She’s an illietheiril.  Ort, get ahead of that taxi.  Ralt, knock her down,” Tarro ordered.

****

Una was amazed; everywhere she looked she saw something new.  Cars, trucks and bikes flew by the taxi each one a new color and design, there were no flying cars in the Q-Zone and the cars that did run were old, battered and rebuilt out of the remains of other cars.  The buildings were like works of art, none of them looked the same; different shapes, neon-holographic moving ads and signs gave the city a rainbow of color even at this height.  She wished that the car had a see-through roof so she could see what the city above her looked like; it must be amazing if what she could see was so wonderful.

Una was so absorbed in sight seeing that she didn’t notice that anything was wrong at first.  The taxi cab shuddered a few times, maybe that was normal for a flying car.  Then she heard and a saw the bullet impacts.  That was when she knew she was in trouble.

“Shit,” she shouted out loud!

She was looking for someway either to get out of the taxi, which she immediately realized would be suicide at this height.

“City Wide Taxi is in an emergency situation.  Please remain calm.  The authorities have been notified.  Passenger safety is our number one concern,” an out of place calm female voice announced.

“What the fuck,” she shouted in a panic, “Get me out of here.”

Bullets continued to impact the front of the taxi at an alarming rate.  The windshield was covered with impacts, the hood was holed and smoke was starting to come out of the holes and through the interior ventilation.   The taxi kept up the warning.   Una ducked down behind the front seat trying to come up with a plan, but she was trapped unless the taxi landed.  Was getting shot at common in the city, violence in the Q-Zone was an everyday occurrence, but she didn’t know anyone here.  Unless they were after the chip she was carrying.  She patted her thigh pocket to make sure the chip as there.  How did they know, she wondered as the taxi’s engine started making grinding noises and the smoke seemed to be getting thicker?

****

“The cab is descending,” Ort shouted over the constant chatter of Ralt’s assault rifle!

“Shit,” Ralt shouted, “They build those things to last.  Get me closer!”

The front of the taxi was shredded, smoke was pouring out from the holes in the hood, the windshield was pierced in several places and completely cracked.  However, the taxi was descending moving out of traffic towards a nearby roof, Ort noticed.  As soon as Ralt had started shooting traffic got a lot thinner, but there were still those drivers that thought they knew better or didn’t have a survival instinct and stayed in the combat zone.

Ort navigated around a hover-truck that just couldn’t seem to get out of the way.  The maneuver put their vehicle above the taxi as it landed on the roof of some building that he couldn’t identify.  Ralt leaned out the window, shooting the taxi from above; the taxi shuddered from the impacts.

“Land,” Tarro ordered.

Ort landed their truck sideways in front of the taxi.  Ralt jumped out, his rifle at the ready.  Tarro, exited in a less action-y way on the opposite side, drawing his pistol and leisurely walking around the back of the truck.  Ort, kept an eye on the taxi, but stayed in the driver’s seat.

Ralt rapidly moved across the rooftop to the taxi.

“No movement,” he shouted.

As Tarro reached the front of the taxi, three ‘luminators bathed the entire roof in extremely bright white light; nothing was in darkness or shadow.

“City Police! Drop your weapons and raise your hands,” ordered an officer from above.  Three cruisers were hovering above them.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Opening Moves.

“Listen Larry,” John said in a measured voice, “the trace is ongoing.  I came here to see if you had any other leads, not to listen to you give me a bunch of shit about how long I’m taking.”

“John,” Larry rumbled, while reaching for a mug, “I’m not…”

“Hold on sec, my phone,” John interrupted, “What time?  I’ll be there.”

John stood up, bumping Larry’s desk causing most of the debris on the desk to slide, “Got a new lead, great conversation as always.”

“Bring him in,” Larry rumbled as John exited the office.

John hated being around Larry, it reminded him of how low he was and how far he had to go.  Still a job was a job.  This job was becoming a pain.  Eth calling with a meet was good news though.  John stepped out of the building into the heat and humidity of Lower City. As always John looked up and around searching for any threats, but mostly hoping to see past The Cloud and something above him.  John got into his car and headed for downtown.

“I’m not available right now please leave a message,” Talia’s phone service said in a delightful voice.

“Talia, this John, call me when you get a moment, I have a new lead.”

John accelerated towards the mid-level on ramp, as he drove up the incline to the mid-level roads he watched flying cars whip by.  Soon, he thought, one day soon he would have enough money to get above The Cloud and see the top of the city.

****

Talia was wearing her favorite gromathi-cut leather jacket complete with shoulder spikes, blue cargo pants and a t-shirt with the DoomBrood latest album cover art on the front.  She looked herself over in the car mirror; yep nothing like what she looked like on the vid.

The neighborhood, if the DMZ part of the city could be called a neighborhood was a mishmash of building styles.  Her research taught her that most of this part of Lower City had been abandoned by city officials years ago. It showed, graffiti everywhere, garbage everywhere, and…yes that was a dead body lying against the wall of Quikie Mart.  Talia, sent a message to her pet to be ready to hit the panic button at her signal.

She took a deep breath, just another day on the job she thought as she headed towards NexttotheDump.  The herg techno-war-thump music was deafening even across the street, by the time she got to the front door; a battered piece of steel that had “Walk-in, Crawl-out” painted on it, the music as threatening to overload her audio enhancements.  There was nothing other than the sign and music to indicate that this wasn’t an abandoned building.

She pulled the door open, stepping into a darkened square of a room only illuminated by red lights from the ceiling and the jukebox.  The place, despite the music which was somehow muted inside, was empty other than a korogin bartender, he looked her way and then went back to work and the person she was here to meet.

“Tor,” Talia called out as she walked towards the table where a lone korogin in biker leathers sat.

Tor looked up from his drink, his graying mustache hanging down to his chest, his facial plates kept him from looking like he was glad, mad or indifferent at seeing her.  Korogin were notoriously hard for non-korogin to read because of their facial bone plates.  He gestured at the seat next to him.

“Ali, how are you today,” Tor asked with a raspy voice?

“Good.  You?”

“Having a liquid lunch before hitting the streets.  What can I do for you,” Tor asked staring at her?

Directness was never a problem with korogin.  They hated long banter and people who didn’t get to the point.

“I’m looking for work.  You know any,” Talia asked?

“What kind of work?”

“Something with an opportunity for advancement,” Talia smiled, “I need a quick and big score.  I heard the Red Hands were looking for some bodies.”

Tor finished his drink, never taking his eyes off of her.  She knew that he was a contact for the Red Hands, but hadn’t gone to him because he was more valuable contact for other information, but she needed to get moving on this story now that Twist was out of jail.  She thought she was going to be blown off as long as he was taking, but he seemed to make up his mind.

“I may have something for you.  Same number,” Tor asked?

“Yep.”

“I’ll call you with the details.  I gotta go,” Tor got up and headed for the door.

Talia ordered a drink and sandwich before heading out the door.  No need to look like she was in a hurry.  When she got into her car she checked her phone, there was a message from John.

“Tauras Investigations how can I help you,” John said as soon as the connection was made.

“John, it’s Talia, you said you had a lead,” Talia said as she started up the car, put it into auto-drive.

“What are you doing tonight,” John asked, from the background noise he was in his car?

“Working, why,” Talia asked guardedly.

“Meet me outside of Crescendo at 8,” John said.

“Crescendo,” Talia replied.

“I’ll give you all of the details there.”

“Okay.  I might have a lead of my own to share when we meet.  See you then,” Talia said.

“Eight o’clock,” John replied and then hung up.

****

Eth hung up the phone.  His noodle dish had arrived and his stomachs were rumbling.  He could repay John and get a jump on everyone else looking for this courier.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Let Loose The Hounds.

Eth parked his car in the darkest corner of the NihO’s Noodle Shop parking lot that he could find.  He looked around hoping not to spot anyone that might be interested in him or his car.  Despite the air conditioning he was perspiring.  What he was about to do violated many of the “codes” of the organizations that he belonged to, but he owed John many favors.  The latest for saving his life.  Eth turned off the car, opened the door and exited the car.  The stale air of Lower City managed to feel cool on his head.  He let his eyes adjust to the low-light conditions while scanning around the parking lot.

****

Una exited the bus, the smell of the city was better than expected.  Nothing like the stench of garbage and too many people forced to live together like in the Q-zone.  A fat cymean woman exiting the bus knocked Una out of the way with her girth and gave Una a nasty look.  This too was different, in the Q-zone physical contact outside was avoided, you never knew who had what.  She moved away from the bus where she could get a better view; nothing but buildings stretching up as far as she could see.  Where were the clouds and the sun?  That was when she noticed the vehicles flying overhead, including expensive looking flying buses stopping at platforms above her.  The noise hit her like a hammer.  There was no quiet.  Everything, everywhere made noise and none of it quiet either.  Una wasn’t sure how people lived here.  Stroud could be worse than the Q-zone.

****

Nobody was following him, at least nobody he could see.  Eth stepped into the neon and holo-nightmare that was any NihO’s.

“Tung sow HUN,” the holo-host announced as soon as Eth walked through the door.

The holo-host was designed to look a little like every species except herg, there was a little cymean in the head, a little illietheral around the ears, korogin neck spikes, gromathi nose and human general blandness.  The mishmash was supposed to make everyone feel at home, but it only made Eth want to punch the designer in the brain.   The host was wearing a combination of kimono and cymean formal wear, but instead of a subtle selection of colors and patterns designed to accentuate the wearer this holo-outfit was done in neons with motion sparkles.  When the holo-host turned, gesturing Eth to a seat that he got to see the silver crane in flight with neon yellow noodles, in motion, hanging from the crane’s beak.  Eth thought he was going to vomit as he walked past the holo-host.

****

It took Una an hour to hail her first cab.  Public transportation in the Q-z0ne meant traveling in a group for protection.  She watched that fat cymean woman hail a taxi from a terminal, then watched a few more people before she felt confident enough that she wouldn’t attract unnecessary attention.  Looking at the terminal, she saw how to input her destination, put in payment and summon the taxi.  The counter on the terminal steadily counted down while she waited looking around every so often to see if anyone had taken notice of her, but no one had.  They all seemed interested only in themselves.  Again, another contrast with life in the Q-zone where you watched everyone, just to make sure they were keeping a safe distance from you.

The black and white taxi cab landed in front of her, almost silently.  Una had never been in a flying vehicle before, this was a trip of many firsts.  The trunk and back door opened up beckoning her to put away any packages and to get into the taxi.   She didn’t have any packages or luggage.  Una climbed into the back of the taxi.  She was marveling at the seats, holo-display of the taxi’s route on the passenger compartment glass and various holo-ads on the underneath when the trunk and door shut silently.  The taxi lifted off and merged with other flying traffic effortlessly.

Previously: Stories From Stroud: Arrangements.

Matsua hoverbikes were silent, that was one of their primary selling points; “Ride fast, ride quiet and keep your neighbors off your back.”  Which is why when five Matsua hoverbikes came roaring past the intersection, the two SPD officers didn’t immediately start pursuit.  They looked at each and then down the Lower City street, before turning on their lights and siren.

Twist was enjoying the wind on his face when he noticed the signal from Razor at the rear of the pack.  He flashed his lights three times in succession.

“Fuck all,” Twist swore.

He held up his right hand in a fist and then signalled that everyone should turn at the next intersection.   What the fuck were the police doing in Lower City?  Nobody but the down, out, and criminally minded lived here where the sun never reached the streets and it was always hot and muggy. He swerved around a large hole in the street and made the turn.  Twist could see the rest of the gang make the turn and the SPD patrol car lights flashing, siren screaming make the turn as well.  He signalled for the gang to drive on as he slowed down.

Razor was the last to past him flashing him a grin as he flew by.  Twist put the bike into park, just as the SPD patrol car pulled up behind him.  The siren went silent, but in Lower City there was always noise from yells, screams, to ad boards screaming the wares of the nearest XXX shop, so even with the sirens off the streets were still noisy.  Twist turned on his seat, putting both legs on streetside of the bike, he adopted his best “What do you want” pose.  He could see the passenger door open and an SPD officer get out, but keep the armored door between him and Twist.  This one was smart.  Twist could see the other officer attempting to run his vehicle’s identification; he’d get nothing.

The bright light from the passenger door searchlight illuminated Twist and his bike.  He raised an arm to shield his eyes.  He couldn’t see what was happening with the officers, but until they did something he wasn’t going to risk any action.  The light went off just as quick as it had come on.  He could see the passenger side officer speaking to the driver.  This didn’t look good, Twist moved on the seat into a more ready position.   The passenger officer got back into the car, the car started up and they drove up to Twist.  Passenger side window down the officer glanced at Twist’s hands before looking Twist in the eyes.

“Sorry citizen, mistaken identity. Have a good day,” the officer said calmly.

Then they drove off.  Twist looked at his mechanical hands with their blood red color; sometimes it paid to advertise.  He started up his bike racing to the meeting.  His phone went off.

“What! I’m on my way,” Twist shouted over the roar of the wind.

“This is Frank,” Frank growled, “I need you to find an illietheril girl.  I’m sending you the necessary information.”

“Just a girl,” Twist shouted again?

“She has information that the bosses want,” Frank growled into the phone, “You find her and it’s double your usual rate.”

“When is she getting into town,” Twist asked?

“In a few days.”

“Done.” Twist ended the call.  He didn’t like Franks, respected his position, but didn’t like him.  He turned his mind back to enjoying the wind on his face.

* Artwork Gromothi (Twist’s species) head done by Chris “Big Man” Cortright.