by Nathan Lunn
“Kye, you look like shit. What the hell happened to you?” Clara spoke quickly with undertones of concern as she walked toward the office, Eddie and Douglass in tow. He waved them off. They did their best to move fast, taking their seats as Douglass activated the windows and Kye walked in behind them. They sat down with a collective sigh, as everyone settled into their morning routines (though the whole group was undoubtedly partaking in these activities with a much more dejected approach). Kye ignored the questions, and decided not to talk, instead busying himself with various cleaning tasks and picking at his lips with his teeth – a bad habit he picked up whenever he was nervous. The rest of the group, going about their own jobs, kept a guarded distance from him, eyes peeking from the fringes of their vision at his cuts and bruises in a way that they thought was subtle. Kye could tell, however, and was growing increasingly irritated with the failed-sly looks he was getting, passive aggressively huffing in their direction and slamming the items he placed on the table. Clara, finished early, decided to talk, checking on the health of the group in general, then moving to speak to Kye.
“How is everyone feeling? Kye, are you okay? We all loved the kid, but you were particularly close…” Kye kept his head down, as Clara waited for a response, a stillness in the air between the two of them; silence lay as dead in the office as the body had done, and the occupants could feel it. The uncomfortableness was broken soon enough – and Kye’s attention was finally drawn to someone’s eyeline – Julie walked into the office. The sharp pain reached its crescendo as he made eye contact with her, breaking it instantly as he winced and slammed his head to the table. He gripped the edge, knuckles turning white as the final piece fell into place, the events of the previous evening coming laid out in their bare truth. His vision again began to blur, commlink flickering as he saw his whole night come into focus, the PR, the insult, the drinking, the poison and finally the drugs. With a final scream droning in his ears, the drugs flooded from his system – an apex of colours and sound weighing down his head and bringing it back to the table as the office whited out around him. He lay still, waiting a moment while normal hearing and sight returned, the concerned voices of his colleagues and familiar sights of the office walls coming back to comfort him.
“He’s just hungover. Looks like the e-Drine is leaving his system finally – must have taken longer due to it being his first time.” Danny stood in the doorway behind Julie, confidence oozing from his stature and slickness oozing from his voice.
Julie bit back, venom leeching into her retort (her tolerance for Danny had always been as minute as Kye’s), “What the fuck are you on about, Danny? Kye doesn’t do that shit.” Danny laughed, as Kye looked up to Julie’s eyes, pain carved into them. “Kye? You don’t...”
“Sorry, Sweetheart. Your boy is hooked! Tell ‘em what happened.” Danny smirked, as a look of horror flashed across Kye’s face, stuttered protestations escaping from his shredded lips.
“What? Me? I didn’t, I mean. It was you really, you drugged me! You got me drunk, you…”
“Now slow down there, Killer, I did not get you drunk. You did that yourself, courtesy of this lovely lady here–” he pointed to Julie, shattering her defensive stance, turning aggressive. “We were both equally enamoured with the idea as far as I can remember,” Danny replied, clearly enjoying the agitated state he was pulling Kye into.
Julie interrupted, fire in her eyes to match her flushed cheeks as she lost all pretences of politeness.
“What the FUCK is he talking about? Kye? Danny?” Danny just sneered. The rest of the office began to protest, as Kye remained silent, biting at his lips with a fervour to match the ferocity of the comments he was being thrown. Danny yelled, waving his hands over everyone’s heads and stomping his foot to draw their attention back to him. Kye snarled – he was clearly enjoying this.
“Over here, please! I have all the answers you are looking for. Let me just say this.” Taking a moment when everyone was quiet, Danny smiled, spread his hands in imitation, and said, “Please calm down. There’s really no need to worry.” Everyone’s mood dropped, reminded of the mystery man from just a day before, turned even more sour, including Eddie – who, for once, was fully against his brother’s black humour.
“That’s twisted, Danny,” Julie spoke, resigned to muted talking again by the memory of the previous day’s events.
“Speaking of,” he spoke, still enthused about his control over Kye individually, and the whole office as a presenter. “I have a twisted story to tell you all. Following the tragic demise of our dear friend, Charlie, I partook in some therapy of the liquid kind, eventually finding my way to a floor of the Gallant, where I happened upon our poor fellow, Kye. Now, Kye here – Kye, look at me. You’re the star, act like it.” Kye looked up, breathing heavily through his nose as the office turned to him. Danny continued where he left off, “Now, Kye here – he was in a bit of a state. Drunk, angry, completely hostile towards me; I mean, I’ve never seen him like that, especially directed at me.” Danny’s smile widened as Kye, eyes trained, unblinking, gripped the table harder, cracking it on the side with his prosthetic arm. Everyone jumped, but Danny just clapped. “Kind of like that, yeah,” he mused. “So, he’s looking for somewhere to vent his rage, really looking to blow off some steam, you know? And, I, being the graciously good friend I am, offered a way for him to cure his anger. You gonna talk now, Kye? You wanna explain what we did?” Danny paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he waited, before proceeding regardless. “We had some food, some more drinks, then headed back to mine to pick up… this.” In a fluid motion, he pulled his hand out of his pocket, and flicked the chip in the air. It spun, catching the light on the distinctive red circles, as Kye stood, grabbing it out of the air with his prosthetic. He landed back in his seat, as everyone turned to him, eyes on his clenched fist.
Clara guardedly asked, tailing off near the end, and almost a whisper, “Is that…?”
“NeuroVirus,” Douglass finished for her, as Kye unfurled his hand and placed it on the table carefully. Danny gleefully whined, as Eddie groaned, and the rest of the office bristled once more. “Danny, where did you get this?”
Danny’s whine immediately teetered out as he let out an exasperated breath, “Ugh. Why is that everyone’s first question?” He paused. “It doesn’t matter! I have it, and I used it.” Kye looked up, and Danny quickly corrected himself, “Sorry – we used it. And you won’t believe who on!” He surveyed the cautious room, before picking up the NeuroVirus and shaking it next to his head. “Oh! For goodness sakes, guys! It’s safe. That’s the point of this box.” He tapped it twice with his finger, as the office relaxed a little – though still fairly guarded. Danny frowned, visibly upset that this was not going as he had hoped.
Kye took this open opportunity to speak, outwardly calm, inwardly traumatised. “We killed Isaiah Croft. We poisoned his e-Drine batch with the NeuroVirus, and left.”
The office collectively gasped, seemingly in disbelief, as Danny took over.
“Actually, he’s probably fine at the moment. Takes a few days, as you know. But he’s right otherwise, he will be dead, and that is exactly what we did. Never even in the same room as him. Though we came close.” He stood, proud, as his peers looked on in shock – Kye tried to meet Julie’s eye but couldn’t seem to grab her line of vision. A perfect foil to Danny’s confidence: he waited, both nervous and embarrassed, for someone to reprimand him – but nobody did. In fact, it was incredibly hard for Kye to actually read the mood of the room. A nervous energy radiated around the cramped space, leaving no room for the occupants to breathe, or feel anything else. Douglass sat at the end of the table, stroking the back of his head, deep in thought for only a moment – drawn out to what felt like hours to Kye – before finally, he spoke.
“Good.”
Danny let out a laugh, and Kye, the breath he had been holding – Clara, highly unerved, decided to inquire his perplexing statement. “What do you mean good?
They’ll just come and kill us.”
Douglass dismissed her. “Not if they took the proper precautions. I assume you did?"
Kye nodded curtly, overshadowed by a louder, and certainly more brash, response from Danny.
“Fuck yeah! Those poshos don’t know shit!”
Douglass sighed, crinkling his forehead, speaking softly. "How did you get around the CommLock?”
Kye answered this one. "We didn't even go to his floor, so it wouldn't have been an issue."
Douglass nodded.
"Yes, well. I trust our resident privacy expert to know whether or not we are safe – no matter how many drugs he is hopped up on.” Danny bared his teeth in another grin, as Julie stood, pointing a distressed finger at a dishevelled Kye.
“What about those drugs, Danny? What do you mean, he’s coming down from e-Drine?”
Kye opened his mouth, when again Danny spoke for him.
“We had some complications with the poison transaction, and Kye here ended up taking some mini-thins. Needless to say he didn’t handle it well. If you note his various bruises?” He pointed. “That’s ‘cause he got himself into a fight with this big prick in the Gallant, took a couple of hits and went down like a sack of yams.”
Kye looked up, angrily correcting him. “Shut up, you ass. I know it was you who did this!” He gestured violently at his face, highlighting the purple and blue blotches that were covering it. He then leaned in, fixating on his temple. “And yeah, this is from e-Drine. He said I wouldn’t need to, but something went wrong with his dealer. Whatever–” he looked at Julie now– “I won’t be doing it again.”
She nodded lightly, looking back to the table. Danny pulled a mock frown, curled smile at the edge of his mouth.
“Aw cute. I thought you’d forget! You get replay from your commlink?” Danny asked. Kye just spat on the floor in response.
“Enough!” Clara shouted. “Why is it good, Douglass?”
He was slow to reply again, clearly choosing his words with great care. “Mainly because Isaiah Croft was not a good person. And now that bad person is gone. That’s usually a good thing. Also, because Kye and Danny were successful without being noticed, and did so in a way that required minimal damages.”
He was interrupted by Danny, who was ecstatically shouting, “Too right. And that’s not just it! We’re gonna kill the rest of them poshos and all! Make ‘em pay for what they did to Charlie, and get a bit of cash in the process. Perfect plan.”
“Are you serious? Be thankful you got away with this one, Danny. I mean, it’s great he’s gone, but... just don’t push it,” Julie replied, echoing feelings felt strongly by Kye.
Danny, poised to launch into a speech reminiscent of the previous night’s, began to speak. “I am serious. We have a duty to the people of this state to do better, to make better, and I believe this is the way to do it. The Croft Family, and by extension, the CAAF, have been treating us and the people we know like shit, and it’s time for a change. We deserve better than grain rations and crappy foods, and step one of that process is getting rid of the Crofts.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Danny. What’s your plan? You’re just saying a load of pseudo-motivational bullshit to try and rouse us into some sense of pride,” Julie returned.
He stopped, ready to cut back, and Douglass spoke. “It loathes me to say it, but he has a point, somewhere under all the extra obscenities. They are vile scum, who prey on the poorest and lift up the lowest of people. It is entirely possible that there are better people out there who can run these companies, to do something better than they have. We would be doing the right thing. I can see you are all still angry – I am too. This is, as stupid as it may sound, a way to get rid of that anger.” The office listened to him, nodding their heads in agreement and ignoring the sounds of incredulous protest coming from Danny. “As far as getting the money goes–” he gave Danny a sly glance to keep him quiet– “I do believe that the capital will be generated following the downfall of the family. A gap in the market will be left, mainly in items of leisure and warfare, and we will be there to fill it – thus, securing a fortune of our own, in time.”
The office was clapping now, whooping about how right he was, asking after his plan. They trusted Douglass’ judgement far more than Danny’s, from the past decisions which had all paid off, and knew that if he was really considering this as a legitimate option, then it must be something they needed to think about doing. Danny was apoplectic, but at least glad that his original idea was finally being fleshed out, instead of shot down like so many times it had previously – this alone was enough to keep him complacent. Kye, a rush going to his head (not dissimilar to the rush he got from PR the evening before), was getting equally excited – the office’s occupants were prone to bursts of adrenaline and this time was no different. That’s the spark that made them into criminals in the first place, they were looking for excitement and Douglass had just offered some of the best; Kye now knew, that even if he was drunk last night, the only real regret he had was how much he had drunk in the first place. The actions he took, though reckless and dangerous, and initially, embarrassing, were of a good outcome. Most of his anxieties had stemmed from the reaction he expected to receive from Julie, and from the rest of the office. With those expectations subverted, he was able to feel his own thoughts about his actions. This consensus was clear: everyone in this office had been wronged at some point in their lives, and they all needed some sort of retribution. That is to say, everyone but Clara.
Clara had sat through the whole affair, quiet and pensive. Her muted reactions indicated a different opinion to Douglass, which was almost instantly confirmed when he heard her speak up at the end of his speech. She was hesitant, pitching in, “I… I can’t do this, guys. I don’t like these people, sure, maybe even hate them, but… It’s just, I signed onto these jobs for the money, and, I need that money soon.” Everyone turned to look at her, energy dropping. “My mother is sick, behind on rent, and if the cash flow doesn’t come until later I won’t be able to keep her well. This sounds like a long gig, and a particularly dangerous one. I mean, you saw what happened to Owens! What if something like that were to happen to my mother?” She shook her head, muttering to herself, more than the rest of her colleagues. “It’s too much of a risk. I’m not a ShadowWalker like you two–” she pointed to Kye and Julie, then moved onto Eddie and Danny– “and you guys only have each other. It’s different for me. I’m gonna have to step down from this.” The office groaned, uttering complaints that she had to raise her voice over. “I’m sorry! You’ll do fine without me!” She now looked towards Douglass. “Thank you, Douglass. It’s been an honour.” He nodded, meeting her watery gaze. With that, ignoring the occupants complaints, she got up from the desk and left the room.
**
“Is that it? She seriously gone that fast?” Kye spoke, craning his neck out through the doorway.
Douglass replied, as he got himself up, pulling out a pad from his pocket and connecting his Commlink to it. “I imagine so. Better to leave quicker than to not leave at all. For her, anyways. You can sit down now, Julie.” He tapped his temple and a display came up in front of them, once again washing the small office in blue light. This pulled their attention back to him (mainly for Julie) and took Clara off their mind quickly. Rotating on the table in front of them was an image of the Croft Family, the same one Kye had seen during his time in the PseudoReality machine. The office were quick to react, though differently this time. Now, when they growled under their breath, it was a growl of determined positivity, rather than wounded anger. It was clear to all of them, that Douglass’ speech had focused their minds towards a more streamlined goal. Systematic revenge. Danny – having had his first taste of revenge the night before – was eager to get on with the fight, and so he wasted no time in replying when Douglass said, “So I ask you all now: Who is in?”
Instantly, Danny was up from the desk, expressly proclaiming his absolute admiratio
n for the plan, as well as laying out his own ideas for how he would like to go about executing it. “I am! Fucking cracking idea! Let’s kill these cunts!” Kye, slowly stuck his hand halfway into the air at the same time as Eddie, accepting only with a short, “Aye.”
Finally, it was Julie, accepting with a short message, and a quick look to each person around the table, “Okay. But we have to do this properly, everyone. Clara’s right, they’re a dangerous group of people, and we need to keep our guards up the whole time. I think we should take care of this CommLock issue first though.” Everyone nodded, Eddie, Kye and Douglass stoic – Danny, excited and impatient. They all moved to look at the rotating image, thoughts rolling in their heads, as the Crofts stared down at them from above – smug and condescending smiles plastered over their perfect faces. Taunting.
***
After tidying up the room and preparing Charlie's body for the funeral, they had to decide what to do with the silver LockBox. It took them a while, and a few ill-placed attempts, but once they realised it would be nearly impossible to open, they decided to destroy it, leaving it in the lower portions of an incinerator they had for evidence and various criminal items. Kye watched on in horror and anger as the lion in front of them melted, a symbol of his plans being destroyed already. Now they had to deal with the security problem.