Into Neon

by Matthew A Goodwin

  “I will go into hiding, I have family,” he told them. “I knew this day would come.”

  “My father warned you?” Moss asked, his voice breaking.

  “Oh, yes. You understand we had to keep that from you?” He looked sympathetically into the camera.

  “I know,” Moss said, sick to his stomach at the apologetic nature of the man. He had done so much for Moss and now he was doing him one final kindness. Moss knew the only thing he could do to repay Vihaan. “We will bring her to you.”

  “Thank you,” the man said, his eyes glinting. “I will transmit the codes. They may not work for long when they discover I’ve left.”

  “We will move fast,” Moss assured him. “You can get out undetected?”

  “You do not do this so long as I have without learning a few tricks,” he said with a wink and wry smile.

  “I’ll see you on the other side,” Moss said.

  “On the other side,” he repeated, standing and looking around the room as if deciding what he would take with him when he left.

  “And if you ever need anything,” Moss began, but Vihaan held up a hand and looked back.

  “Just get her out and do what you are planning,” he said, and Patchwork nodded as the screen went black once more. Everyone in the room went back to planning as though they had not been listening in. Gibbs could not hide his sorrow.

  Even though it’s a corporate headquarters, it’s damn near impenetrable, Seti said.

  “What if we all dressed up like janitors,” Gibbs offered, excited by the idea of a clever ruse. “We could wear false beards!”

  “You’ve seen too many movies,” Ynna mocked. “Cleaning is all done by bots.”

  “Right, burbs are the same way,” Gibbs agreed.

  “Server room is deep underground,” Patchwork informed them, the display spinning and zooming to a massive room filled with row upon row of electronic towers.

  “Where is Issy being held?” Moss asked forcefully.

  “That may be our only stroke of luck,” Patch said. “She’s probably here at HQ, being held for questioning by management. They wouldn’t want to use any facility partially run by Carcer. If her dad doesn’t even have clearance, she’s likely here on the sixth floor: BurbSec main office. It’s a shock to no one, but they have a holding facility there as well for internal investigations.”

  “We go there first,” Moss said.

  “It has to be you in the server room, we can split up and a couple of us can get her out while you do your work,” Stan said.

  “No!” Moss bellowed, sounding like Burn. His controlled passion demanded the attention of the room. “I will be the first face she sees. We can split up and you all can clear a path but I’m getting Issy.” This earned nods of agreement from around the room.

  “We’ll obviously place charges here in the server room, but we will want to knock out the lab as well.” Judy continued to plan.

  “What charges?” Moss asked and Burn grabbed him by the arm gently and led him away from the group.

  “Your father’s work. It may be important to you, but we cannot leave it to persist. And those servers with the hacked minds of the employees, they must be destroyed,” Burn said.

  “No,” Moss said quickly, and Burn furrowed his brow, thinking how to respond. “I mean, no his work is not important to me. When I was inside with him, I wanted to do more. He said it was about saving lives, but I see now he was trying to protect a legacy, no matter how it was being used.”

  “Ah,” Burn said, appraising his words with a smile. “So, you’re with us then?”

  “With you, and more,” Moss said. Though it sat uncomfortably with him to betray his father’s trust or even the trust of a rendering of his father, he agreed with the plan. He had wanted to do more to ThutoCo and now they were. They moved back to the group.

  “Call it like you see it, Ynna,” Burn said.

  “Right.” Ynna grinned. “After breaking in twice and breaking CT out, they will be on high alert—on the lookout for anything. We will need to get the new kid into the control room first thing so he can open doors, turn off guns and cameras and guide us along.

  “Moss is dead set on finding his friend, so half of us will go with him and get her out. Gibbs, she’ll be in rough shape so we’ll want you to get her back here to Grimy quick as you can once she’s free. Burn, Stan and Judy, you all will move to the servers, get us in and find a spot for the charges. Once they’re set and I get Moss to you, Burn will watch his back while the three us find the lab and set up there too. I miss anything?”

  Burn simply smiled.

  “Yeah, you missed something!” Chicken Thumbs said, pacing around the room in a huff. “What about me?”

  “You’ll be Patchwork’s back. He’ll be busy and you’ll need to keep him safe,” Ynna said. She pointed at the slight kid sitting at the desk.

  “I promised his mother, so you better keep those guards off him, Blood Bath.” Burn smirked.

  CT groaned. “I vetoed that.”

  “Moss, Gibbs, what you guys know which we don’t?” Burn asked. Gibbs shrugged but Moss thought back to Issy before taking the BurbSec exam. Helping her study had familiarized him with policy and protocol.

  “After a security incident, many of the corporate offices will be locked down after hours and they will use thermal scans to ensure no one is in the building at any time,” Moss told them.

  “Well, that’s easy, we just wear thermaskyns. Pretty lame security measure,” Ynna scoffed.

  “Only lame if you know you need them,” Moss said and Ynna laughed.

  “Right,” she said. “The question becomes: how do we get Patchwork into the control room? Even if they don’t pick us up on thermal, they won’t let us just waltz in there.”

  Seti moved the 3D schematic and moved it so they could all see the control room located at the top of the building. It was a small space, banks of screens surrounding a single chair.

  “One person?” Judy asked, squinting at the rendering.

  “Corporate wouldn’t trust too many people with that much responsibility,” Moss pointed out.

  “We should just pay that guy off and save ourselves a whole lot of trouble,” Chicken Thumbs put in.

  “Never could, the person who sits at that desk would be a first-rate stoolie,” Burn said. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag before letting the smoke slowly drain from between his lips.

  “Cut the power?” Gibbs offered and shrugged.

  “They must have backup generators?” Patchwork said quickly. “And the servers will be on their own supply.”

  Moss thought about it. “Gibbs, during that big storm last year, how long between when we lost power and the backup came on?”

  Gibbs smiled. “One minute, twenty-three seconds.”

  “How do you remember that?” Ynna asked with pure surprise upon her face. Gibbs smirked and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head triumphantly.

  “I’m really rather something,” he boasted, holding his shoulders up.

  Moss narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Gibbs. “Something to do with the game.”

  “Fine. Destroy the illusion,” Gibbs said, plucking a plug converter from between the couch cushions and throwing it at Moss.

  “We were doing a timed endgame raid and our score was beaten by those jerks from Burb 2049 when the power went out. It was the longest minute and twenty-three seconds of my life,” Gibbs whined.

  “You’ve lived a pretty cushy life then,” Judy half-joked.

  “What game was it?” Ynna asked excitedly. It was the first time she sounded her age.

  “P—Pirate’s Scourge,” Gibbs stuttered, surprised by the question.

  “Nice! Cracken Uncorked Mod?” Ynna asked eagerly.

  “Obviously,” Gibbs said.

  “Ah, man, you ever—” Ynna began but Burn interrupted.

  “Children, can we please return to the potentially life-threatening endeavor at hand?�
�

  “How do we get in?” Stan asked, steering the conversation back to the mission.

  Slice a window? Seti suggested before amending, scratch that, they have sensors.

  “Micro EMP?” CT said.

  “That’ll set off the alarms,” Judy said.

  “Seti, trace a path from the windows to the control room and time it out,” Burn ordered.

  It’ll be tight, she said.

  “Burn, we’re all going to have assignments, how can we knock out the power and be by the window at the same time?” Ynna asked.

  “Reckon we’ll need help,” Burn said and Ynna snorted followed by a chorus of groans from around the room.

  “Zero two?” Ynna groused.

  “Most reliable crew,” Burn said. He stamped his cigarette out on the wall, sending sparks cascading to the ground.

  “Most arrogant crew,” Ynna corrected and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “They your Burb 2049?” Gibbs asked playfully.

  “Exactly,” Ynna agreed.

  “They are not so bad,” Grimy said to Moss’s great surprise.

  “You would think that,” Judy said.

  Patching you through, Seti announced.

  One of the screens displayed, CONNECTING, before revealing an image of a heavy man in full tuxedo, standing in an immaculate white room full of men and woman similarly adorned. His white hair was slicked back with precisely groomed mutton chops shaved into arrows pointing to his mouth. His skin was tight, an older man whose fountain of youth was found at the top of a needle. He smiled broadly, blue eyes glimmering as the skin stretched unnaturally.

  “Captain Bernstein, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure,” he said with no accent but in such a stilted manner as to nearly give him one. “Has the refuse before you piled to your nethers such that you wish us to attend your abode?”

  “That ain’t it,” Burn said, sounding tired.

  “Have I before mentioned that the boorish manner in which you speak is an affront to the world’s most elegant language?” the man asked, his words so crisp and clear as to sound robotic. Moss felt that the man was more performance piece than personality.

  “Every time we speak,” Burn said.

  “Condescension and patronization will get you nowhere as I imagine a favor is coming forthwith,” the man said.

  “Right. Listen, James, we need your help and we need it tonight,” Burn said.

  “Sir James,” he corrected. “A proper man demands a proper title.”

  “We’re making a run at ThutoCo, you think I give a hoot about titles?” Burn was beginning to fray. His hand moved toward the pocket from which he always produced his cigarettes but stopped, making a fist instead.

  “Titles are a cornerstone of a civilized age, wouldn’t you agree.” He stalled, obviously willing to wait until Burn used the proper name.

  “Sir James, we need your help,” Burn said.

  “And you shall have it, your disquiet dispirits me,” Sir James said, half of his mouth turning up.

  “We need you all to hit a power station tonight at an exact time we designate,” Burn said, his hand moving into his pocket.

  “Ah,” he said delightedly, clasping his hands before his chest, “a task worthy of this aggregation.”

  “Good, we’ll get you the info,” Burn said. “Thanks.”

  “You wish to continue this correspondence further?” Sir James asked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

  “Not even a little,” Burn said and Seti cut the feed. Burn produced the whole pack from his pocket and pulled another cigarette. Moss noticed for the first time that the old man’s hands were shaking as he held the lighter to the tip of the smoke.

  “Prick.” Ynna snorted. She reached out and snatched the pack from Burn, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and using the embers to light her own.

  “Man may be a thorn but he’s great in a pinch and that crew don’t mess around,” Burn said, taking his things back from Ynna.

  “Bernstein?” Moss couldn’t hide his amusement.

  “Think I got my name from burning my enemies?” Burn said, obviously disinterested in this line of questioning.

  “Plausible,” Gibbs said. He stroked his chin dramatically.

  “Right?” Moss added.

  “So, they’ll hit the power station and we’ll have a minute to get through the window and to the control room,” Judy said.

  “That’ll have to do,” Burn agreed. “They might have some turrets on battery for just this play so we’ll still want the thermaskyns to be safe.”

  “We’ll go see Chu,” Stan offered, standing in unison with Judy.

  “Don’t dally,” Burn commanded. “And bring back some food.”

  “Your wish,” Judy said, and they left.

  “What now?” Moss asked.

  “Rest,” Burn said.

  “That shower work?” Moss asked, pointing to the small bathroom.

  “Yeah, water use is unlocked but don’t use too much or it’ll raise suspicions with the landlords,” Burn told him.

  Moss nodded and shut himself into the small room, the smell of mildew filling his nose. Damp towels hung from hooks and lay crumpled on the floor. A light flickered above a broken mirror, serving as the only light in the room.

  He turned on the water, undressed and stepped in. The warm water robbed him of thought for a time until he found himself tracing lines with his fingertips along the fusion point of his real and artificial leg. He felt as if he no longer knew who he was, who he had been, but allowing himself a private moment of immodesty, he liked who he was becoming.

  Chapter 18

  Clean and wrapped in his trench coat, Moss awoke to the sound of Stan’s heavy footfalls on the floor and the smell of cooked meat and fried potatoes. He knew he had not slept enough, as if there was a thin layer of mold on his brain he couldn’t shake, but he roused himself.

  Judy handed out the thermaskyns. They already had theirs on, Stan wearing nothing but his usually tight pants over form-fitting fabric which glimmered slightly as he moved. Judy wore theirs under jeans and a button-up, patterned shirt, the skyn only peeking out at the wrists. Moss set his to the side as he slid from the cot and made straight for the bags of food. Stan smiled and handed him a paper bag, grease coating the bottom.

  “Had pizza, now you gotta try burgers,” Stan said with a smile. “In case it’s your last meal, better make it a good one, right?”

  “Right,” Moss said, hardly hearing the words as he and Gibbs plopped onto a couch and tore open the bag. He didn’t care that he burned the roof of his mouth as he jammed a handful of fries in, moaning with delight.

  “A royale with cheese,” Gibbs said, giddy as a child as he took his first bite, warm liquid from the meat sliding down his chin. Neither of them noticed as the rest of the group watched them in fascination.

  “They’re like children,” Judy noted as the rest changed and sat down to eat as well.

  As Moss sucked the tip of his fingers, taking in the remaining savory flavors, Gibbs nudged him with an elbow and nodded to Ynna across the room. She was eating a French fry and standing in just the thermaskyn, the material right against her body. Moss knew better than to stare.

  “She gives the Butlers a run for their money,” Gibbs whispered, far too loudly for Moss’s liking.

  “Keep staring and she’ll put you through a fucking wall,” Moss hissed before excusing himself to dress.

  When he returned, everyone stood about, grim-faced and determined. Judy was making the rounds, checking equipment. Burn walked over to him.

  “You ready for this?” he asked, putting the recharged Kingfisher in his hand.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, feeling as if he had never spoken truer words.

  “This may be the end of us,” Burn began.

  “Or the start of something big,” Moss said, tucking the gun into a holster and shaking the old man’s hand. Burn turned to the group.

  “Let’s s
et the world on fire,” he said, and they couldn’t keep themselves from cheering.

  The drones carried them over the city and Moss watched the people bustle about, blissfully unaware of what they would see on the morning news. He had been one of them. No one looked up and they avoided the airplanes to remain unnoticed. ThutoCo HQ came into view amidst a sea of skyscrapers in the heart of the city. One by one, they buzzed close to the top of the tall, dark structure. They paused, hovering next to a window near the top.

  Now, Burn ordered to Sir James. They heard no answer. They waited, a terrifying, heart-pounding time. Nothing happened. Moss imagined somewhere nearby, an immaculately dressed group infiltrating a power plant—some substation redistributing the energy from the panels which he and MOSS II used to repair. Moss turned his head to see Patchwork next to him, shifting awkwardly but he turned and smiled.

  “This is new,” he said with an uneasy chuckle. Both their heads cocked as a security drone rounded the corner of the building, scanners working. Moss kicked himself for not thinking of this and was sure others were feeling the same.

  “No rest for the weary,” Patchwork said through the thermaskyn mask as his eye undoubtedly went black beneath the goggles. The drone moved past, its scanners running over the crew gathered before the window, not changing course. Moss’s heart thudded as the grid passed over his body, the trench coat swaying in the mild wind. Moss felt no relief, only anger that they hadn’t predicted this. The plan had come together so hastily. Were there other things they had missed? Were they walking into a trap?

  “Good thing he’s here,” Gibbs said from Moss’s left side, his words disappearing into the air around him. Moss agreed, wondering if Rosetta would have been so quick to act and feeling guilty at the question. Hanging there, exposed and unprotected, the moment felt interminable. He began to worry that the other team had been caught, that all this would be for nothing.

  Then the few dim lights inside went out and without thinking, he thrust his bit forward. The spiderlike machine skittered on sticky legs, sending a laser through the glass which hissed as it was cut. The sound surrounded him on both sides and soon there was a square cut in the windowpane large enough to crawl through . He pushed and the heavy glass fell with a soft thud to the carpeted office. He pulled himself inside as the drone released from his back and flew off, the heat signatures would have been a dead giveaway had they worn them inside. Cold shimmered over his body as the thermaskyn worked.