2.30 Spoils of War

30 – Spoils of War “Why here?” Addie asked as Tony pulled the van into the alley where the basement entrance to Doc Fox’s chop shop was tucked away. “Because this guy’s not affiliated with any corpos. In fact, he doesn’t get along with them, especially Boxer.” “Doc Peters isn’t affiliated—” Tony sighed, chuckling. He’d known she’d argue for giving Peters their business. “Yeah, but he’s got his limitations. He’d have to order anything we wanted, and I’ve never seen him do any mods. Have you?” “No, I s’pose not.” She was quiet for a minute while Tony maneuvered the van behind Fox’s dumpster—most certainly not a legitimate parking space. As soon as he moved to open his door, she said, “He’s okay, I guess, but Fox kind of gives me the creeps.” “You’ll be fine. Even if we get something installed today, I won’t leave you alone with him.” He could understand the sentiment. The doc had seemed legit, but he’d definitely had a weird vibe. “Okay?” Addie nodded. “If you promise.” “Promise.” Tony slid out of the van, and by the time he walked around back, Addie was there, waiting for him to lead the way down to the chop-shop. At the bottom of the steps, Tony pressed the buzzer on the beat-up metal door. After a few seconds, it clicked unlocked, and he pulled it open. Just like before, he hesitated in the aperture, staring down the barrels of the ugly, efficient-looking auto-turret hanging from the low ceiling of the entryway. “Proceed. You’re cleared,” Doc Fox’s voice said from a speaker somewhere. Tony held out his hand, almost automatically, and Addie took it, following him down the short hallway to the next door. Tony felt chills on the nape of his neck while under the watchful red eye of the turret’s sensor array. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “It’s a little unnerving,” Addie agreed. The far door clicked open before they arrived, and they stepped through it into Fox’s clinic. It seemed cleaner than the last time Tony was there. He saw a vending machine and comfortable-looking waiting chairs lining one wall of the room that he was certain hadn’t been there before. Nevertheless, it was still a one-room operation; the autosurgeon chairs, stainless carts, recovery beds, waste-disposal bins, and everything else were right there for anyone to see. Fox stood beside one of the beds, his eyes obscured by heavy-lensed goggles as his prosthetic, spider-like appendages dexterously clicked and hummed, stitching sutures into a thin, dark-skinned woman’s scalp. “Take a seat, please, you two. I’ll be done with Nevaeh in a couple of minutes.” Tony nudged Addie and led the way over to the row of chairs. As she sat down, he looked at the vending machine. “Thirsty?” Addie was distracted, looking around the clinic, but she glanced at him, offering a quick smile and a nod. Tony looked at the machine, scanning the drinks on offer. He scowled when he realized they were all “Viper” brand beverages, loaded with synthetic sugar and neurostimulants. “It’s all Viper stuff. You still want one?” “Any fruit flavors?” Tony groaned and selected a “Grape Rattlesnake” for her. When the pouch flopped into the dispenser, he picked it up and sat down beside her. “Can I just have a sip? I don’t want a whole pouch of this damn stuff.” Addie smiled, squinting happily as she looked at him. “Please do.” Suddenly, he felt like he was on exhibition as she watched him twist the tab off the little straw top and pull a swig of the super-fizzy, super-sweet concoction into his mouth. As he swallowed, he handed her the pouch, and she took an immediate gulp. “Ah! It’s good!” Tony folded his arms and leaned back. “You say that about anything sweet.” Addie didn’t argue, but she took another drink and whispered, “I don’t remember this place being so scary.” The doc was all the way across the room, some fifteen meters away, but Tony nodded, whispering back. “It’s really not that bad. Look how clean everything is.” “I guess so. Maybe it’s just that it’s in a basement.” Addie looked up at the white-painted concrete ceiling, dotted with bright LED strips. “At least it’s not dark.” Tony chuckled. “I mean, we’ve both seen plenty of scary chop-shops in vids, right? This is nothing like the one Vex Samurai goes to.” Addie laughed. “I haven’t seen that show since I was a kid!” Tony arched an eyebrow. “So you did watch it, though, yeah?” She nodded, leaning into his shoulder while she sipped her drink. “Something we have in common, I guess. We both like bad net serials.” Tony pressed his cheek to the top of her head, sniffing her strawberry-scented shampoo. “I never said I liked it—” Addie immediately slapped his thigh. “Don’t start!” Before they could goof around any further, Fox helped his patient to stand and walked her toward the exit. The woman—Nevaeh—looked blearily at Tony, but he couldn’t get a read on what she might be thinking. The doc winked and nodded in their direction as he said, “Now, go home and put a little ice on your head, hon. And stay away from the goon who clobbered you, all right?” “I will, doc. Thank you so much for seeing me. I’m sorry about the fee. I promise, I’ll—” “Forget it, forget it. A few stitches? It’s nothing. See you Thursday in class.” He pulled the door open, and then his voice faded as he walked the woman out of the clinic. “See?” Tony said, nudging Addie. “He’s a nice guy.” She whispered, “I wonder what class he’s talking about.” Tony grinned, rubbing his chin. “Maybe pottery?” Addie giggled. “I think it’s a cooking class.” She stifled her snickering and sat up straight like she’d been caught goofing around by a teacher as the door opened and Fox came back into the room. “Ah! Sorry to keep you waiting. Still, there’s never a guarantee that I’ll be available when you drop in like this. Just for your peace of mind, I’d normally ask people to return at a later time when I have a client in here, you know, for confidentiality purposes, but Nevaeh said she didn’t mind.” “Well, that was nice of her,” Addie said, crossing one leg over the other, folding her hands in her lap. Tony just nodded. “What can I do for you two today?” Tony had learned a long time ago that people, generally, didn’t like silence during a conversation. They got nervous and tended to fill the void with statements or questions they hadn’t really thought through. It was a good technique for taking the upper hand in the intimidation game, and unfortunately, he’d gotten so used to it that it had become a habit, something he did without thinking, even in a conversation where he had no intention to intimidate anyone. So, he didn’t speak right away, subconsciously pausing to contemplate his words and listen for vulnerabilities. As usual, Addie filled in the silence. “Well, um, I need a new Dust reactor and matrix, and I want to give my current one to my partner, here. He’s...” She paused, licking her lips to look at him. Then quickly added, “He’s looking to mod something onto his cybernetic arm. Do you mod existing hardware?” “Oh? Well, sure I do! It’s my specialty; I just don’t get the chance to put it into practice too often around here, I mean, not with anything better than the typical rust-tech some of these bangers bring in begging me to keep it working or make it just a little more flashy or deadly.” He chuckled. “Sometimes I have to refuse, considering the absurd voltages and tissue strain... I digress, though. What were you looking for, sir? By the way, did I thank you for coming back in? I do appreciate a repeat customer.” “Well, I—” Tony started to say, but Addie spoke at the same time. “I’m actually a repeat customer, too. I came in a few years back with a bad tech phage in my data port. Do you remember?” This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. “Hmm. A few years, you say?” Fox tapped his chin, and his weird, wrist-mounted mechanical spider limb reached up to scratch his hairline at the same time. “I have a vague memory of it, sure! It’s the hair. Wasn’t it more of a ginger back then?” Addie blushed, but she nodded. “Yes. It’s gotten a little darker as I’ve aged.” Half of Tony’s mouth quirked up into a smile as he watched her squirm. She was so damn sweet; it made him want to go back in time and pound the snot out of whatever rotten kids teased her for having red hair. He was assuming, of course, but he had to imagine that was where her lack of confidence had come from. Fox nodded, tugging on his wispy chin hairs. “Well, it’s a lovely shade.” When he turned to Tony, lifting an eyebrow, Tony took the opportunity to move the conversation along. “I want something I can use in a pinch—some kind of weapon that won’t alter the arm’s functionality or stand out too much.” “Hmm, right, right. You use Dust tech, right? I mean, I have a vague memory of you having some kind of story about—” Tony nodded, speaking over him. “I bought a PAI that could interface with Dust from you.” “Perfect! And, the reactor you’ll be getting from the young lady—what’s the capacity?” “Two hundred,” Addie said immediately. “Oh? Not too bad... I have a couple of options that you might find attractive. Let’s see, it’s T-something, right? I’m sure your name starts with a T, I just—” “You’re on the right track, but we’ll be doing business under our SOA handles. I’m Shepherd, and this is Ember.” “Oh! SOA? Perfect! I love doing business with operators. Well, bangers and operators; they’re my bread and butter around here.” He shifted his chrome eyes to Addie, nodding slowly. “Well, we ought to sort out the Dust reactors first, right? What kind of upgrade are you looking for, my dear lady?” “Well, I guess for something quite a lot better. Something like...” She trailed off, and Tony could see she was grappling with the right words. She wasn’t used to the idea of buying things that seemed insanely extravagant to her. He almost chuckled; a tier-five reactor wouldn’t get a second glance from operators in New ’Hattan, but in the Blast? He doubted half a percent of the populace had a piece of tech that expensive. “She needs something closer to tier-five. A couple thousand unit capacity.” His words got quite a reaction out of Fox. He took a step back, whistling low as he shook his head back and forth. “What kind of tech are you running that needs that kind of Dust?” He waved a hand at imagined objections. “I’m not trying to be nosy, but if I’m going to be working on you, I ought to have an idea what all I might be dealing with.” Addie shook her head. “Nothing, really. I run Dust-tech drones.” “Oh!” He clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly. “Of course! Some of those bigger drones can positively burn through the Dust, can’t they? Still, you must have some serious hardware.” Addie shrugged. “Or I just want to run multiple drones for a long-term operation. I don’t—” “That’s probably enough with the interrogation, Doc,” Tony interrupted. “You got something for her or not?” Doc Fox nodded, grinning wide enough to expose chromed canines. “Oh, I happen to have something that will blow your mind. It’s not brand new, but it’s in perfect condition. The, um, gentleman I purchased it from didn’t exactly harvest it with the utmost care. I had to do a little refurbishing when I took it in, but I’m good at what I do.” “Harvested?” Addie asked, her voice rising with alarm. She looked at Tony, and he nodded, glaring at the doctor. “We aren’t looking to support ghouls, man. I didn’t know you were buying from harvesters.” Fox held up both hands, waving them frantically, making his extra appendages click and clack. “No, no! It isn’t like that. I purchased this from a scav who swore the device came from a Boxer agent who’d been, um, killed in a fight. I confirmed the Boxer asset tag etched into the housing!” Again, he hastily waved a hand. “Rest assured that I’ve since thoroughly scrubbed the device of any identifying markings like that.” A funny feeling began to worm itself from Tony’s gut and into his mind at the doctor’s story. He had a sneaking suspicion, but he was reluctant to voice it. He slowly nodded his head and said, “Tell us about it.” “Well, it’s a Royce and Ceville, Solar Spark, Mark Nine. It’s probably the nicest reactor in the district, honestly. I wouldn’t have purchased it from the scav who brought it in if I hadn’t gotten such a good deal. I know I’m not doing myself any favors by saying this, but it's not a part that’s easy to move around here. I’ve been contemplating a trip up to District One to unload it.” “I’ve heard of the brand, but can you give us the specs?” Tony tilted his head toward Addie as he spoke, and the doctor nodded. “Oh, of course. I was getting to that. The reactor has a five-thousand-unit capacity and, paired with the right matrix, it’ll draw twenty-five Dust a minute from the environment; that’s pretty much the maximum for the Blast.” As Addie’s eyes opened wide, he chuckled, nodding. “You asked about a tier-five reactor, but how’s tier-four sound?” “How much?” Tony asked, knowing a reactor like that would cost something close to a hundred thousand bits brand new. “Seventy-five—” “Forget it.” Tony waved his hand dismissively. Addie shot him a look, eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything. “Let’s talk tier-five—” “Now, just a minute!” Doc Fox chuckled, clicking his tongue. “I didn’t say that was my best price. Why don’t you make an offer?” Tony scratched his jaw, pretending to contemplate things, then, after a few seconds, said, “Thirty-five K, and you throw in the matrix.” “You’re trying to get a rise out of me, aren’t you?” Fox turned, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced in a slow circle. “I’m sure I could get seventy-five in New ’Hattan.” “This isn’t New ’Hattan, though, is it? If I’m not wrong, you’ve had that thing for a while. Why haven’t you taken a day trip to sell it yet? Why not try to unload it on the net? Something about moving it makes you nervous. Come on, Fox, get straight with us, or we’ll just skip this little offer.” Tony already knew the answer: it was too hot and too good to sell in the Blast, and if he tried to sell it over the net, there was a good chance it would be picked up in a checkpoint scan, and then Fox would be open to an investigation. “Tony...” Addie said, likely made nervous by his confrontational tone. Fox sighed and shrugged. “Okay, you got me. Boxer and I aren’t exactly friendly, and I don’t want to risk it coming back to me somehow. I mean, sure, I scrubbed the asset tags from the damn thing, but how many reactors like that are in the Blast? The average IQ of a Boxer employee may be comparable to that of a well-trained simian, but there are a few clever ones, especially in their asset recovery unit. It’s just not worth it. So I’ll make you a counter, and if you don’t like it, then I’ll just hold onto the piece for a year or two.” Tony grinned, nudging Addie with his elbow. “Fair enough. Let’s hear it.” “Forty-seven K, and I’ll include the matrix and also change out your reactor free of charge.” Tony looked at Addie, arching an eyebrow. She pressed her lips together, almost frowning. She locked eyes with the doctor and asked, “There’s no, uh, remnant of the former user on it? You’ve completely sterilized it?” Fox chuckled, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely. I gave it a full immersion in gravecleaner gel—specialized nanites that dissolve anything organic down to the protein strands. Not a trace of the last owner left, I promise.” Addie slowly nodded. “Can we see it?” Fox grinned again, his canines winking silver. “Of course. I’ll go gather what I need to complete the job.” He turned to Tony. “I’ll take a look at my options for your arm, too. I’m rather enthusiastic about some ideas I have.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and hurried over to the far door, where, Tony assumed, he kept his inventory. As soon as he was gone, Tony turned to Addie, and she stared at him with wide eyes. “Do you think—” she started to ask, but Tony spoke at the same time. “Zane.” “Oh my gosh...” She shook her head, clearly upset, and Tony could see why; he was, too. “We had that damn thing in our hands. Now we’re paying for hardware that we basically left to rot!” “Tony!” Addie cried. “I don’t think I can put something that used to be in Zane into my...my body.” Tony sighed and put his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “Don’t think of it like that, Ads. That piece of shit tried to take everything from you. You earned this damn reactor; think of it as the spoils of war. Yeah, it stings pretty damn hard that we didn’t have time to pull it out of him ourselves, and now we gotta pay for it, but you should take it and be proud. You beat that asshole.” “Won’t I think of him every time I...” Words failing her, she reached up and gently ran her fingers over the center of her chest where her reactor sat. “If you do, think about how you beat him. Think about how you didn’t go quietly when they tried to take you out of your life and steal your freedom. Anyway, there’s nothing left of him in that reactor, Ads; you heard the doc.” She nodded, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. She was quiet for a while, and Tony was starting to worry she was still upset, but then she said, “Can you believe it? Tier-four tech. Five thousand Dust!” Tony kissed the top of her head, squeezing her close again. “Hell yes, Ads. That’s some serious gear.” As he spoke, the back door swung open, and Fox emerged, pushing a small cart. He came over, and Tony saw a shrink-wrapped, black and silver disc-shaped device he knew was the reactor. Beside it was a box labeled "Tsunami Dust Flow" that he assumed was the matrix. Finally, there was an unlabeled, purple, plastic case the size of a shoebox. Fox handed the plastic-wrapped reactor to Addie. “Here, Ember, check this out. I promise it’s as clean as if it just came out of the factory. You’ll see a rabbit laser-etched into the back of the casing. That’s my work; I covered the Boxer asset tag with it.” “Shepherd, have a look inside this case. When I was back there, the thought struck me that this would be perfect for you, and I’m sure I can fit it into your arm’s housing without too many modifications.” He pushed the purple box toward him, and Tony took it, setting it on his lap. He unlatched the clasp and opened the top, revealing black foam, molded to encompass the device at the center—a shiny, stainless device about the size and shape of a small flashlight. He picked it up, holding it in his hand, and noted the dense weight of the round base. The top half housed a complicated gear assembly, and the tip ended in a sharp-looking crescent-shaped blade. As soon as Tony moved his flesh-and-blood hand toward it, Doc Fox inhaled sharply and blurted, “Don’t touch it! It’s monomolecular—the edge.” Tony arched an eyebrow. “What the hell is this thing?” “It’s called a Widowhook, and no, I didn’t name it. Once it’s set up, it’ll sit inside the housing of your forearm, safely tucked behind a plasteel flap. Fires at two hundred meters per second—don’t blink or you’ll miss the impact. It’s attached to an incredibly strong nano-fiber cable. Oh, and it’s conductive; the blade is charged with electricity from the battery. So, yeah, anybody you shoot that into is going to have a very bad day. The gears are rated for two hundred kilos, so it’ll retract pretty forcefully when you want it to.” Tony held the device against his mechanical forearm, trying to gauge how well it would fit. It seemed doable, but the doc would have to mod the housing, for sure. He grinned, picturing it in action. When he glanced at Addie, she was smiling, watching his expression. Before he could say anything, she threw Doc Fox a thumbs-up. “We’ll take it.”