The Wake Up Call

TAD

Chapter 1.29: Incoming

Beneath the lavishly designed basement of the Milton Citadel two figures ducked out of a stationary freight barge and made their way behind some white stone pillars. This grid of stylish delivery bays and rows of grand archways echoed the status of those individuals far above it. The elite of the city demanded the best, even in the unseen service access basement levels. Nothing was deemed too small for their overly active attentions. Power granted the wealth needed to construct gold plated elevators, crystal decorated sidewalks and state of the art technology. Of course all of this needed to be constructed and maintained by someone.

Splice knew exploits into most security systems including parts of the Milton Citadel, after all, he helped to design it. That was the real kicker. Even in this unbalanced world of the enhanced elite with everything at their disposal and the unfortunate underclass forced to survive in pollutant soaked slums, the elite still needed the underclass for small, repetitive tasks. Those two, security guard slackers with the droid in the Eldora Tower proved this.

Hetch greeted this clinically clean building with a great deal of paranoia. He wondered what high tech. horror waited for them beyond the delivery levels. On the few rare occasions where he had come into close contact with a serious 'mizer' he instantly recognised their physical strengths. A fortune of credits traded for bone and muscle components. The elite were driven to extremes in body modification. Implant technology still in its prototype stages was often cloned and offered on the black market to the highest bidder. Their sheer bloody mindedness combined with almost superhuman strength demanded respect or fear.

Splice motioned with his arm towards a control panel perched high on a elliptical pillar. It's shiny cover, like the rest of the building, was incredibly clean, almost too clean to be real.

Between the long, high unloading bays hovered groups of droids and power-lifters manned by some highly dextrous operators in their protective cages. These mechanical exoskeletons provided the means to move hundreds of tonnes of cargo each and every day. The tenants of the Milton Citadel had a great thirst for expensive food, clothing and have the state of the art technology. All this needed to be moved around. The neighbouring shuttle terminal granted another route in, but the real bulk of cargo was from slower moving freight.

Hetch took in the oxygen rich air. The high quality air filtration system provided a much-needed boost. This place was expensive. In a lifetime's of sweat and toil he doubted that he could ever earn enough credits to live in a place like this, and to be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to. It had luxury, clean water, and fresh air and was pollution free. No toxic waste or radioactive materials would ever be dumped near it. But it had a soul-less feel to it. There was something unnatural in its overly clean appearance, as if someone had blasted every surface in order to banish the blood, sweat and lost lives of those people forced to construct it.

"Over there." commanded Splice, using the metal case to guide Hetch in the right direction.

Hetch scouted ahead, approached the open elevator doors and peered inside its open-top walls. The chrome handrails outlined the transparent basket-like construction. Beyond it's circular boundary lay an incredible view of the inside of the Milton Citadel.

"Okay, its clear."

They watched the silent elevator doors come together and display navigation maps and touch-sensitive inquiry menus across the large screens on the inside of them. Hetch looked up. It was like being inside a technology rich church. Coloured light beams from holographic sculptures filtered downwards from ceiling panels. Gigantic columns supported the dizzying heights of one of the main shafts of the building. Acres of soundproofed glass and metal made up each of the hundreds of levels. Curved archways, suspended walkways and spirals of curious artwork all attempted to fill this incredibly large space, but none came close.

"Not bad, eh Kido?"

"How much does it cost to live here?"

"You don't want to know. A lifetime of credits might pay for a month."

Hetch shook his head.

"Crazy."

"* Beep *"
The sound of a small, personal message gadget caught Splice's attention. He dug into his deep pockets and revealed a tiny pen-like device and held it up to his eye. It's blue light beam filled his retina with a metre height image of transparent text and rotating images.

"Good job, I'm transferring the credits now."

Hetch watched his partner place his thumb on the end of the device and take a sample of DNA, fingerprint snapshot and give a sequence of vocal commands to it.

Splice returned the gadget into an inside pocket then looked up at Hetch.

"They've found her."

"And?"

"It's bad kido."

"How bad?"

"* PING! *"
the elevator stopped and it's doors opened. The high definition map images and text disappeared behind the clean walls.

"Critical."

"She is..."

"Still alive, but only just."

Hetch's eyes slammed shut, he let out a sigh of relief and took a deep, oxygen rich breath.

"Where is she?"

"She’s Safe."

"Where?" repeated Hetch, grabbing the coat of Splice.

"You're not going to like it."

"Tell me!"

"On her way to the Aurora Complex."

Hetch's grip loosened and his hand fell back down to his side.

"Why?"

"They've got some state of the art medical equipment and control most of the doctors and surgeons."

"What’s her condition? Is she going to live?"

Splice's expression gave away the answer before he had opened his mouth.

"There is a slim chance, a very slim chance. She’s in a coma. The force of the impact broke her back, legs and some of her ribs."

"Fuck!" cursed Hetch, punching a wall as they continued walking down a series of long, spiral corridors. He pulled back the hair from his face and gave a mixed expression of relief and frustration.

"Look kid, she's still alive that’s the main thing."

"But what state is she going to be in? Stuck in a bed for the rest of her life hooked up to a life support machine or be a vegetable, unable to move or talk?"

Splice went to pat Hetch on the back, but his arm was blocked. Hetch held both hands up telling Splice to back off.

"Leave me alone."

"Its just another part of life. Every so often it throws you a punch."

Hetch slid the pistol from under his coat and looked down at its shiny, black, metal barrel.

"Its not how many punches it throws you, but how you take them. Like a man, or like a chump. So you think what happened to her is cruel and unfair, right?"

No reply came from Hetch.

"Listen kido. Life is cruel and unfair. Take a look around. See all these 'mizers'? See their perfect lives and overflowing bank accounts? Even with all this, this perfect life, they still collect an unexpected punch every so often."

Hetch rubbed his eyes.

"You feel that thing deep inside you? That cry of despair, that anger, those screams of 'why did it have to happen?'"

Hetch nodded.

"You hold on to those feelings. Grip those invisible bastards like your life depending on it and never let go! No matter what shit happens around you, do what you have to do."

"And now?"

"We stick to the plan."

"And her?"

"Its up to you."

Splice kicked the case across the floor hitting Hetch's leg and coming to an abrupt halt.

"I guess she is worth more than the case."

Hetch returned the pistol inside his coat and gripped the handle of the case.

"What’s in this?"

Splice laughed and continued towards the row of personal elevators on the outside of the huge building.

"Finally someone actually asks the million credit question."

Hetch scanned the approaching two occupants of the Milton Citadel as they walked by the open elevator. Their huge, overly developed muscles and expensive designer suits gave him a glimpse of what he could expect to see when they met Josh Weller.

"You want to stand there like a dick, or see what your fate has in store?"

The busy scene through the elevator's windows of the shuttle terminal outside gave Hetch a few seconds of peace. It reminded him of what that terminal had been like when the stewardess showed him the way to the lost property department. Millions of travellers all pre-occupied with their own, selfish desire to be at the front of the queue, to reach their destinations in the shortest possible time. He wondered what the McKaffs would want in exchange for her. It was bound to be far more than the case itself. The only thing he had to offer was his skills and he wasn't sure they were really worth anything in his current situation. He could count on Splice and maybe some of Mewco's old mercenary contacts.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" came a threatening sounding voice through the elevator's vid-channel. Its small screen showed a dimly lit room and a black silhouette of a man standing in front of a window blind. Through the blind's horizontal fins moved ripples of light from the shuttle terminal's many navigation beacons and landing lights.

"We've got something you might be interested in."

"I'm not interesting in burnt-out wares or low grade enhancements. Now scram before I hit the alarm."

"I think you're going to like what we've got on offer."

"Who the hell are you? How did you get past the security?"

Hetch held the case at arm's length towards the screen.

"You interested in a deal?"

"Not interested. I've already got some luggage cases."

"Hey, you're not listening! Someone left this on the Rhyson shuttle and of course we want to return it to its rightful owner."

"I might be interested. How much?"

"Gee, a reward? How kind."

"Lets talk numbers. How much? You can leave the case in the elevator and I'll transfer 1,000 into any account of your choice."

"No!" said Hetch, stepping closer to the camera and vid-screen.

"We need to deliver this in person. You could be a fake, generated hologram on the other end of this vid-link. Besides its worth far more to me than 1,000 credits."

The shadowy figure grew anxious and operated some gadget out of sight of the vid-link.

Hetch looked at Splice. It was a gamble. Two suspicious characters like themselves were out of place here in these surroundings. Any other resident would have tripped the alarm and engaged the protection systems built into the elevator. But Josh Weller wasn't a normal resident and Hetch correctly guessed this. Those small fragments of video on the stewardess' data recorder convinced him of this fact. Those two thugs in the Eldora Tower who beat up Hetch must have been hired by Josh and used to make sure the stewardess delivered the case safely to him. The pieces of the jigsaw started to snap into place.

"Okay. Lets do the deal."

The elevator doors began to close. Their bulletproof panels operated by remote from the dark figure in Josh Weller's apartment.

Hetch's eyes were transfixed as the two, bio-sealed metal edges slammed together like a pair of guillotine blades. The elevator began to move upwards, propelled by an enormous motor several hundred feet above them. Rows of red scanning laser beams descended from the ceiling and searched for concealed weapons beneath the garments of its two passengers. A small container from the sidewall opened like a hungry garbage disposal chute.

"Please remove all weapons and place them into the storage pod." came a computerised voice.

"Do as it says." said Splice.

The scanning beams restarted their investigation of the passengers and completed its slow progress before the storage bins were automatically locked shut and the elevator resumed its upward ascent.

Minutes passed in what seemed like hours. Only the beams of light from passing shuttles and security droids checking the Milton Citadel's exterior offered any relief at the tedious journey. Finally the elevator stopped and the doors began to open. Beyond the short, lavishly decorated corridor was the entrance to Josh Weller's apartment.

Splice tapped Hetch on the back and stepped out of the elevator. "Let's go."

Hetch took another deep breath from the oxygen rich environment and sensed the scent of leather, marble polish and the smell of approaching death. It was the same feeling he had in the NewPort Colosseum. Would the words of the dead preacher come true?

Before him stood his fate, behind him the jaded memories of the previous day. Their tarnished recollections would either help or hinder him. A fragment of data here, a seemingly unimportant looking event could help solve the jigsaw. He just hoped the final picture would be one he could deal with.

To be continued...

TAD "