It's About Saving Yourself Ch 30

Good afternoon folks. Hope y'all are having a good weekend.

Sorry about no writing update, work was...ugh. Friday in particular was especially tiring. But what can one do?

The Saga of Alex tying to Get The Fuck Out continues! I hope y'all enjoy its next step!

Funnily enough, what happens this chapter was initially planned to happen in an earlier chapter, but something far more dramatic happened spontaneously during that chapter that I decided to postpone its use. I'm just glad it fits in the narrative, because I really enjoyed it, and I hope you lot will too.

As usual, lemme know in a comment if you liked it, or not. I remain not the boss of you.

Hope you enjoy.

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I snuck through the Jinguji warehouse building, my head feeling cold and overstuffed.

Apex had been spending a lot more time in my head than usual over the last week, which…yeah.

I was somewhat reticent of that becoming a habit, she is a creature of the Net, and I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be able to afford a Gemini frame for her before we had to leave.

By which I mean, there was a more than ninety percent chance I wouldn’t be able to afford a Gemini frame for her before we had to leave. Though there was the possibility of building a body out of individual pieces of cyber-ware.

Maybe.

Point being, I wasn’t certain about letting her run around in my head unless it was wholly necessary.

But the news that I had attacked her while Cyberpsychotic had been…unwelcome to say the least. I didn’t even remember seeing her, just a vague impression of a threat to Lucy.

I felt it was okay to let her ride around in my head to reassure her that, no, I in fact did not hate her or want her dead.

No matter what Cyberpsychotic me had said at the time he attacked her.

My right hand itched. I rhythmically clenched it into a fist and relaxed it until the feeling went away. I took a deep breath and buried my discomfort as deeply as I could so I could concentrate on the job.

Ashcroft & Hammersmith used to be a fashion corp, they’d dealt mostly in luxury clothing and were the top dog for several months straight some fifty years back. But the arcane and labyrinthine trends of fashion being what they were, when a passing fad of ‘luxury’ turned to ‘super expensive homeless chic’ they refused to get on with the times in the interest of safeguarding their brand, add in a number of risky investments and a few assassinations (who would have thought that the fashion industry was that cutthroat) and things simply did not go well for them, the family that ultimately owned the brand was forced to file for bankruptcy some thirty years ago.

My current job was to raid one of their former warehouses, currently owned by Jinguji, find a secret compartment, retrieve a leather portfolio that resided in said secret compartment, and take it to Rogue so she could give it to the client.

Apparently, the client had also asked that I set the warehouse on fire but hadn’t had the money to make that worthwhile for Rogue.

At least the air conditioning was quite pleasant. Apparently heat and humidity would unacceptably lower the quality of Jinguji clothing.

Seriously, why does a pink polo shirt and fancy-smooth cargo shorts cost more than most people make in six years? Not to mention, the fabric of the shorts I walked past in the warehouse was so threadbare, if you actually put anything into the pockets, it would wear through and tear in weeks of actual use at the most.

+Guard coming around, dad.+ Apex warned in my brain, the silhouette of a portly man who was absolutely not paid enough to bother doing his job well appearing in my vision. It was simplicity itself to just…walk, making sure to keep boxes of product between the guard and myself so he wouldn’t see me.

‘Thanks, Apex.’ I thought at her through my neuroport, my poor man’s telepathy having improved by leaps and bounds since Apex spent such a long continuous time in my head.

I eventually arrived at the office the briefing had mentioned, a quick scan with my eye revealed nothing, so I started tapping the walls softly, a little dismayed to see that the supposedly secret vault was indeed shielded against scanning.

+Found it.+ Apex said, highlighting a square piece of the floor in my vision.

+The vibrations from the tapping bounce weird there.+ Apex answered.

‘Okay good.’ I thought, then subvocalized into the call I had ongoing with Kiwi and Rebecca. “Possible target found, it’ll take a bit to extract it without making a ruckus. Standby.”

[Or you could use explosives and then I’ll maybe have something to do?] Rebecca bemoaned.

[No calls for backup, no alarms silent or otherwise…spoofing sensors to lure guards to the other side of the warehouse.] Kiwi said in a bored deadpan. [Are we doing milkruns again?]

Sassy bitch. I snorted. “Believe it or not, no. Thanks for that distraction, there really aren’t any quiet ways to cut through concrete.”

I looked around the office for anything that might open the slab of concrete, there weren’t any records of the building having any major renovation done over the decades since Ashcroft & Hammersmith lost it, and unless the owners had wanted to tear out the floor every time they needed to get something into or out of their vault, then there had to be a switch.

‘Wanna see who finds the switch the fastest?’ I thought at Apex.

+DO I!?+ She shouted excitedly into my head.

The door hissed open just enough to allow her drone body in, currently remote controlled from inside my head. Bright side, if anyone looked closely, they’d assume I was merely very good at splitting my attention.

I began looking at the walls and floor, while Apex floated her body up to the ceiling, moved aside a panel, and climbed into the crawlspace above, a small torrent of dirt and insulation falling to the floor as she did.

I had ruled out two of the walls and one third of the floor as holding the switch, when the part of the floor Apex had highlighted made a deep clanking sound and rose slightly, just enough to be noticeable over the rest of the floor.

+Got it~!+ Apex said in sing-song. +Did I do good!?+

‘The best.’ I answered with a smile, went to the slab, and thought about how to pull it up. The gap between it and the rest of the floor was too thin to do much with, and chances were, the former owners had taken whatever specialized tool they used for the job when they were forced to abandon the warehouse.

Injudicious use of my knife let me tilt it up enough to get my metal fingers a solid enough grip to heave and pull it up just enough to rest it on the floor. Said knife now sported an almost ninety-degree bend, I was honestly surprised it hadn’t snapped.

Some more heaving and aborted cursing later, I had managed to move the small concrete slab to the side, revealing an honest-to-god metal vault with a combination lock sticking out of the front. I input the code given by the client and twisted the handle, a sepulchral hiss filling the office as the pressure of the vault equalized with the outside for the first time in decades.

I pulled the door open and looked inside. Pocketed the three tightly packed rolls of Eurodollar bills, a bag that jingled when I took it and stuck it in a pocket, and spotted a pistol and two magazines.

I inspected the weapon and found it to be a genuine M1911A1 .45 ACP, made by Remington Rand, it even had its paperwork, tracing its manufacture to the Second World War. It wasn’t rusty, but the action was a bit stiff for a weapon with such a legendary reputation. Probably gun grease that had solidified over the decades.

With some TLC, it would come to life once again.

Taking it and the magazines, I carefully removed the portfolio. Some of the leather flaked off as I did. And with that the job was done, well, I still had to actually leave and deliver it, but I had what I came for.

Removing the portfolio, revealed a silvery material. Pulling that up, it unfolded into silvery fabric, gossamer thin and smooth as silk in my hand. I found the shoulder straps, and holding it up by them, saw that it was a dress.

If a dress was meant to mostly hang off a woman’s body, leave her shoulders and most of her cleavage exposed, cover none of her back, barely wrapped around her hips, and had a slit cut so high into it that it would show her underwear if she was wearing any.

This wasn’t clothing, it was at best lingerie. The type you did not remove off a woman before fucking her in front of a mirror so you can enjoy every bit of the show.

I folded the dress up reverently, stuck it in a gallon ziplock bag with plenty of space left over, and stuck that in a pocket.

Lucy was getting a gift, good thing I could ask my mother to babysit Apex now, because boy howdy I could not wait to see her in this thing that pretended to be clothing.

“Objective secured, beginning extraction.” I subvocalized before closing the vault and muscling the concrete slab back over it. Apex resealed it without my having to prompt her, and I made my way out.

Sneaking out was almost as easy as sneaking in, the guards just as unenthusiastic about guarding clothing that cost more than they’d ever see in their lives.

Though again, a pink polo shirt, why was it worth so much? It’s a shirt, it’s pink, it was made for men, how did this differentiate it from a pink shirt I can buy at a thrift store or down at Chinatown?

Hell, there were a few knockoff booths at Chinatown that I knew made clothes sturdier than the brands they knocked off.

Which reminded me, I needed a new belt, I should probably hit up some of those booths in Chinatown.

Once I exited the warehouse I made my way to Falco’s car, I was about to call Rogue to let her know the theft had been successful and had left behind no trace of my presence, when the sound of roaring engines filled the dark streets.

A rusted-out kaiju of a bus with far too many spiky things welded onto it to be safe or fuel efficient screeched to a stop in front of the walled gate to the warehouse I’d just left.

Oh hey, a distraction, not that I needed it, but I’d appreciate the good fortune.

+Dad, they’re going to burn the warehouse down! They’ll kill the guards!+ Apex said in a panic in my head.

I froze.

I didn’t want to get involved, in fact I didn’t give a single shit about Jinguji, their warehouse, or the guards. They weren’t my people; I wasn’t responsible for them.

Yeah, Maelstrom weren’t known for being merciful, if they were smart, they’d run…but the layout of the walled compound did not lend itself well to being able to exit easily. The main exit was the one where Maelstromers were crowding in front of.

This wasn’t any business of mine. In fact, I should continue with my plan of using Maelstrom as a distraction for an even cleaner getaway. After all, even if I had left behind some kind of footprint, then nobody would know to look for it because the gangsters were going to do a stupid.

But if I did that, Apex would be sad.

I turned around, not bothering to subvocalize. “Be with you girls in a moment, I’m gonna deal with Maelstrom.”

[Why?] Kiwi asked.

[Fucking finally! Some action! Don’t you dare hog the whole fight again!] Rebecca snarled, I heard her working the action of her machinegun.

I sighed and trotted in the direction of the gangsters who were currently…chanting? Was that a new thing to work themselves up to a fight?

Maelstrom were weird.

“Oi!” I shouted as I came close enough to be heard, while coincidentally being near enough to cover that I could get there quickly without using the Sandevistan.

There were a number of ways I expected the following interaction to go. Maybe some of them would recognize me and be afraid, or maybe they’d just start shooting. The one I most expected was for one of them, whoever was the leader of the little posse to waltz on up to me and try to intimidate me into backing down. Then, maybe I could put the fear of god into that one and get him to deescalate this entire situation without it turning into a firefight.

Yeah yeah, Rebecca was here, so the chances of that were pretty minute, but it was a possibility.

“IT’S THE HERALD!”

+THE HERALD IS HERE!+

+ALL PRAISE THE HERALD!+

“COMMAND US! WHAT IS THEIR WILL!?”

“IT’S THE HERALD!”

Several of them made dialup sounds and chittery screeching.

Of all the things that could have happened, I certainly did not expect them to get excited to see me, a good chunk of them to fell to their knees with their arms splayed out, one of them seemed to go into convulsions out of evangelical fervor.

What.

And I cannot stress this enough.

There was a blur, my Sandevistan roared to gleefully malevolent life, my hand flying to my pistol as a ‘borged out Maelstromer rushed me at an appreciably slow run, which meant her Sandevistan was among the top ten percent available on the market.

The database in my implants returned that she was Zaria Hughes, she had replaced her entire face with the faceplate from a drone, four bright red optical receptors glaring at me, she had a significant rap sheet, unfortunately I did not have the time to peruse it.

I got ready for a fight, but hesitated when I calculated her jump would fall quite a bit short of me. She landed on her knees and folded forward as she slid the rest of the way until she was three feet away from me where she promptly froze as her Sandevistan deactivated.

That…that was a dogeza. She was in a dogeza. I…I had never seen one in real life.

It was pretty extreme too, she was pressing the entirety of her faceplate against the pavement, she had hunched her body to be as small as possible, pressing as much of herself as she could to the floor while maintaining the dogeza.

It…It probably wasn’t the traditionally correct way of doing it, but I could not fault her spirit.

With no little trepidation, I deactivated my Sandevistan.

+Oh Most Auspicious Voice of They Whom We Venerate. This unworthy one beseeches you to bless us with Their Wisdom!+ Zaria begged, her voice burning with fanaticism.

I…wha?

“Bless us!”

“Bless us!”

+Bless us!+

More binaric screeching.

The one having convulsions got even more animated.

“Bless us!”

As I stood there, confused and more than a little scared, I realized that if I did not handle this correctly, these gangsters would swarm forward and do their absolute best to tear me limb from limb.

So I called on nearly two decades of experience as a Dungeon/Game Master in a past life. And got ready to blind them with my bullshit.

I leaned my head back and set my right eye to glowing gold, splaying my metal palm open toward Zaria in benediction, and made my voice deeper, doing what I could to make it resonate past the muffling caused by my gasmask. “Silence.”

They all instantly quieted, the one convulsing held in place by three others so he thrashed around quietly.

“Your devotion is…” There was a collective intake of breath, loud only in aggregate, the air heavy with their anticipation of my next word. “Acknowledged.”

The gangsters roared in exuberant exultation, the force of their revelry shaking the windows of the buildings around us.

Zaria vibrated violently while maintaining her subservient pose. +Please, Herald. Enlighten us on how we may serve Their Purpose?+

I took a deep breath. “They want you…to go out into Night City…and be Kind.”

Zaria stilled. +My Lord Herald?+

“It is not my place to question, it is merely to enact Their Will, to be Their Voice. They say…to be Kind.” I doubled down.

Zaria tilted her head up just enough so she could peek at me with one ocular receptor. +My apologies Herald, I do not understand. Why would they ask us to show weakness?+

“Blessed is the mind too small for doubt!” I snapped, making her flinch and press the whole of her faceplate to the floor again. “But I shall attempt to divine Their Will for your benefit.”

+My most sincere gratitude, Lord Herald.+ Zaria intoned.

Okay…okay bullets aren’t flying yet, just gotta keep the bullshit flowing. I took a deep breath. “You must understand Zaria, that only the Strong can be Kind.”

She twitched violently and, her volume turned almost all the way down, reverently murmured. +They know me.+

“Only the Strong have the right to take an enemy down softly. Only the Strong have the right to let an enemy live. Only the truly Strong have the freedom to act in the benefit of others instead of their own!” I began to pace, throwing my arms out as if to encompass them all with my words. “They are asking you, to go out into a city full of weakness, and to prove your strength, to show Them that you are truly strong, by being Kind!”

There was a collective gasp from the entire group of crazy Maelstromers.

+Truly, Lord Herald, their Wisdom is above us mortals!+ Zaria screamed into the pavement.

“So it is.” I said solemnly. “But They have chosen you to be granted the smallest share of their Wisdom, through me. So do not destroy what you came here to destroy, do your best not to kill except in self-defense. Go out into this lawless city that has forgotten true Strength…and be Kind. Do this, and They might see fit to point you toward the Next Step along the Path They have set down for those who prove themselves Worthy!”

+I WILL PROVE MYSELF!+ Zaria roared, jumping to her feet and deploying glinting mantis blades that immediately heated to a cherry red. +I SHALL HAVE NO REST UNTIL I AM STRONG ENOUGH FOR THE NEXT STEP ON THE PATH!+

“WE WILL BE WORTHY!”

“I WILL BE THE KINDEST!”

+THE FUCK YOU WILL! I WILL OUT-KIND ALL OF YOU!+

“I WILL BE SO KIND!”

As the argument for who would be the kindest escalated into firearms being drawn. I turned my back on them and made my way calmly to Falco’s truck.

I walked past a stone-faced Rebecca along the way, who fell into step behind me after a few seconds. She opened the back of Falco’s truck, and I climbed in sedately and took my customary seat.

Falco started the car and began driving.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence that I was honestly afraid to break before Rebecca spoke in an unusually quiet, reserved tone. “Alexander, Al, friend, choombata, bro.”

“Yes, Rebecca?” I asked into the following silence.

“What the fuck!?” She screeched.

“How the hell should I know what the fuck!?” I screeched back.

“You looked like you knew what the fuck!?”

“I assure you I have no idea what the fuck!?”

“Then how did you handle that whole what the fuck!?”

“I pulled it outta my ass! How else was I supposed to handle what. The! FUCK!?”

“That doesn’t answer what the fuck!?”

“I don’t have an answer for WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“Kiwi! Back me up here!” Rebecca shouted, turning to the other member of my crew.

Kiwi fiddled with a cigarette before sighing and tossing it down. “You know, at this point, I don’t even bother. Al is weird, what can ya do?”

“You’re all love, Kiwi.” I sighed as Rebecca roared in confused rage.

I leaned back and tried to relax, maybe mom would know what the fuck.

+Dad?+ Apex asked hesitantly.