Memory Leak
A wasteland thriller
in the Era of Silence
R. Val
Dedicated to June, beloved friend and fierce ally.
And to Willabee, the backbone of Shrike Tabletop, and constant companion.
Thank you for helping with editing and feedback, and every other magnificent thing you each bring to my life.
*****
“The old days were long gone. That wonderful world didn't exist anymore. There was no use spending your life whining about it. You had to spit on its grave and never look back.”
— Dimitriv Glukhovsky, Metro 2033
*****
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1. Mercenary
The “sky” above East Bekton Park was a bright baby blue, painted by white cottony blobs that lazily drifted across it. A faint breeze ran through the trees and shrubbery, brushing a few strands of auburn hair into my face. I scowled, this was all so fucking fake!
I never got what people saw in a simulation of an ancient park, no one alive had ever seen this world! Everything was just a little wrong. The sky was too blue, the clouds lacked depth, the plants and animals uncannily flawless, and the breeze too consistently gentle. It was nostalgia for those who didn’t care to remember things as they really were. So, just normal nostalgia, I supposed.
A ticket there cost me nearly a whole month's rent, but I wasn’t paying for my entry that day. I looked around, no sign of my contact yet. I stood at the edge of a gazebo, leaning over a railing, surrounded by a circular hedge. Within the overly manicured landscape were a flower garden and a small pond filled with fish that seemed to change colors. My agent had said the meeting would take place at 7:00 p.m., but I couldn’t tell the time there. No clocks. Nothing to indicate a change in the time of day.
I wasn’t the only one waiting - I knew there would be others on the job, but this was my first glimpse of most of them, though one of them I knew. She stood by the pond of fish, watching their shifting hues closely. Arina, an elek with the common shimmering golden irisless eyes, long rounded ears, and a small frame. She wore a cute yellow shawl, a white sweater, and slim grey leggings. We’d never worked together. She was new, but I’d only heard good things.
Meanwhile, lounging in a lawn chair was a yasre with grey skin and a lush plumage of red feathers. They wore robes with the Divine Star emblazoned on the front. A priest? Their long avian legs dangled over the chair’s edge. They lifted their head to look at me, staring intently. I turned away with my cheeks flushed and walked toward the round table in the gazebo’s center.
Someone else was sitting there. Long raven black hair and piercing blue eyes. They wore a white button-up and pants that matched their hair. Something about their posture, expression, and aura declared that ‘woman’ was the wrong label to give them. Human, but unusually flawless to the point that I figured they must have had some work done. They paid me no mind, so I didn’t pay them any either.
I took a seat and my prosthetic leg creaked against the wooden chair. Was this natural? Damn, this place was looking more and more expensive. The seat next to me was occupied by a bag left by someone more trusting than I was- mine was slung over my shoulder.
I set my bag on the table and started rummaging around. I took out a notepad and pen, flipping to the current page. Columns of numbers were assigned to labels. Expenses. Gear, permits, medication, weaponry, armor -everything I would need to get back to work. I had been pulled away from my true calling by the accident. I almost subconsciously rubbed my metal forearm as I did the math in my head. I totaled it up, wincing. I made some adjustments and calculated again. Still too high.
My broker, Oren, had told me that this job would be a good chance to cover the bulk of it. I thumbed a saint’s pendant around my neck and prayed to the gods he was right. I prayed for other things too, usual things, like good health for friends and my family back east. I prayed for myself, too. I beseeched the gods to get me out into the open air again - real air, away from the city and all the bullshit. I begged for the wastelands, focusing my prayers on The Wanderer, and to be able to go back to my old life out there.
I heard footsteps moving into the gazebo’s interior. A human woman in fine corporate attire with hair in box braids, flanked by a huge robotic figure with a smooth, featureless head unit. Pinkish fungus sprouted out of each of the figure’s exposed joints. The woman looked at my folded hands, “Oh please, don’t let me interrupt!”
“I was just about done.” I mouthed an amen and sat up.
The other two filed in, Arina nodded and said hello, while the yasre glanced but didn’t say anything. We sat in a tight circle around the table, about at capacity. The robot, who I presumed to be a bodyguard, stood over us.
The woman in the nice suit gave a small “hmm” and set her hands on the table. She had this serious demeanor. “Thanks for meeting me this evening. Oren Maklivi says you’re the best he has currently available.”
I tilted my head and looked at the others. Oren must have been expanding. I replied, “What’s the job Ms…?”
“Just call me Z, and this is my friend Hale.” she gestured to the fungal robot, a sporeborn. Hale waved their metal hand on a slight delay. Z spread her arms in a welcoming gesture, “I believe introductions are in order.”
She started pointing to her right and went around the table counterclockwise.
“You’re Dorian, yes?” The brooding and beautiful human figure nodded his head to the side in an affirmative.
“Arina.” The lass perked up and waved to everyone.
“Reverend Temperance, it’s an honor!” The yasre grinned and made a sitting-bowing gesture.
Then me, “Alice! Oren spoke so highly of you.”
“Vulture works fine.” I corrected. The table looked at me. I shrugged. “It’s what they call me.”
“OK, Vulture.” Z continued, “Well you all, down to business. I need something stolen, though the problem is, the owner sees this coming.”
“Who’s the mark?” Temperance spoke with a thick accent. The closed vowels and emphasized r’s indicated Psreidish origin.
“A corporate executive. An elek by the name of Kanra’Las.”
Arina raised her hand but spoke openly anyway. “What corp?” She tried to lower her voice to sound professional, though no one was convinced.
“Does it matter?” Z raised an eyebrow.
Dorian interjected. “Yes, actually. There are different legal systems at play- one hands us off to the feds, another ships us to the lunar colony.”
“I would suggest you not get caught then… but in the fairness of disclosure, STARCAST.” Dorian’s spine straightened and he took a deep breath. The rest of us were a little relieved. Not the worst of the options, but also not the best.
“Is this job STARCAST related?” Dorian replied.
“Most certainly! Kanra’Las is a traitor. At risk of devastating the company. He’s attempting to sell the next year’s worth of broadcasting schedules to our competitor!”
I answered this time. “Which competitor?”
“SBN.” A big conglomerate out east in Saliana, where my parents still lived.
“So why not just have internal security handle it?” Temperance pried, fidgeting with the silver cap on one of their tusks.
“Good question Reverend. The ‘mark’ knows I’m onto him. I work a few rungs below him at STARCAST. When I caught onto him, he destroyed every bit of evidence pertaining to his dealings with SBN. He’s hiding away in his private estate now. If I wasn’t already sure, he’d have gotten away with it.”
“Sounds like he still has.” Temperance’s bluntness got a laugh out of me.
Z pursed her lips, “Not just yet. He may have burned the records, but there’s something I am confident he still has.” She signaled Hale, who produced something from a storage cavity in their chest and handed it to her.
Z held it on display, it looked like a cylindrical memory cartridge, with distinct prongs at the end. Perfectly normal tech.
“So… he has it on a memory cart?”
“Not yet, but you’ll extract it. He has an induction port. This is keyed to take information, not give it.”
I folded my arms, “So we’re stealing a guy’s memories?”
“You’re stealing a guy’s *incriminating* memories.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s beyond my technical capacity.”
“Me too.” Temperance agreed.
“I could probably figure it out… But same.” Dorian was staring at his nails.
“I could do it.” Arina chimed in. We all looked at her. “I’d need some specs, but I figure you have those, right?”
“You would be right.” Z gave a perfect white-toothed smile.
“So that figures Arina, but what’s my part in this?” I was deeply curious now.
“His villa is out in corp-territory, beyond the shield, and sealed off in the wastelands. I’m led to believe you’re an expert on that kind of travel.”
I had to stop myself from beaming, “Yeah. What about the priest?”
Temperance answered for Z, “I do other things you know. A person needs work… consider me something of a demolitionist. Though, I know a few spells too.”
“And Dorian?”
Z extended an open hand to the glowering man, “A fine infiltrator.”
Dorian nodded reluctantly, “And I practice enchantment.”
“Okay, so that settles that. What’s the window?”
The corporate woman held out an upturned palm, “I need this done within a week.”
“Then we need to start today. It’ll take us a day there and a day back travel time. What’s the pay?”
“10,000 Standard Astaelian scerns down for your whole team. 50,000 additional for each of you upon completion of the job. Plus anything you grab while in the villa”
All four of us made eye contact. It was good money.
Temperance rubbed their upper lip against their tusks. “What do we know about the estate?”
“I’m afraid that will be on you to figure out. Kanra’Las kept most aspects secret, even the coordinates took some backchannels to find.”
The priest scowled. “So we’re just supposed to hit a rich asshole’s fortified house with no recon?”
I sighed, “I think I know someone.”
*****
The meeting concluded. We got the drop box in which we’d leave the evidence acquired. No further contact with Z beyond that -the usual protocol. Dorian basically disappeared, but Temperance and Arina kept talking. I joined them for a bit, agreeing where to meet later, but I slipped out early. At that moment, I was desperate to get out of that surreal fever dream of a place.
The sky of East Bekton Park bent into the edge of a hemispheric dome. Sets of double doors lined the exit. I rushed to the least crowded exit line, and passed the security check to make sure I wasn’t taking any of the “wild” life with me. Then, I was out.
The interior dome gave way to the gargantuan dome of shimmering amethyst hexagons that surrounded all of New Bekton. This field of energy shielding the city from the rolling clouds of ash above, turned black by the night. The idyllic sounds of “nature” were replaced with the buzz of traffic and life across the megacity. Ahead, the sprawling ring of lowtown. Behind, the ritz and glamor of the midtown and uptown rings. In the center of it all, the grand spire that shot all the way into orbit. The smell of chemical exhaust hit my nose. It wasn’t my favorite, but at least it felt more honest.
I caught an aircab and considered where to go to find my contact. It was Thursday, so I had a pretty good guess. “Lowtown, Ria’s Sanctuary!” I shouted over the driver’s music.
*****
Ria’s was a large rectangular building. A former mineral refinery, which showed in the pipework and venting all across its structure. It had been around for a few decades, definitely longer than I have.
The line wrapped around the side of the building, and I took my place. People of all shapes and sizes -some with no apparent modifications, others transformed into entirely new creatures. One that looked a lot like an old-world giraffe, another with three sets of wings. With Ria’s Sanctuary, the only rule was ‘no men allowed.’ Everything else was fine.
It took me an hour to get through the queue. It was almost 11 now, and I hoped the person I was looking for would still be there. Some girls with matching glowing hair offered me a bump of Frost. I declined respectfully, though they didn’t know what to make of me saying it would make me sick. They started talking to me about dosage and safety, which I sat through patiently until it was our turn at the bouncer.
Haelga was at the door tonight. Good, Haelga knew me. They were big, even for a primas-ika. I always wondered if they had gotten muscular-skeletal work done, but it never really felt like my business to ask. Their blueish scales and orange horns were illuminated fuschia from the light of the club’s airlock. A sharp-toothed grin, “Vulture! How ya doin’ girl?”
The girls behind me looked a little envious that I was recognized. I relished it, “Haelga! It’s been a while. I’m alright, just working!”
“Are you only working tonight? Kal’s gonna get mad if I keep letting you in without you buying any drinks.”
“Have you told Kal to start stocking things my system can process?”
“Actually, yeah! I told her to get some Korvuni Blue. It’s a wine but don’t let that fool you, it’s intense. Nothing alchemical or anything that’d be an issue for you org-” They stopped themself.
“It’s fine, organic isn’t a slur. Not a bad one at least.” I really felt no shame in my condition, though I appreciated their care.
“Right.” They looked at the line of increasingly irate women and nonbinary people behind me. They handed me a headset. “You’re good to go in. Catch me on my break!”
“You know I will!” I probably wouldn’t, but no need to spoil the moment.
The airlock closed behind me, with enough people to cycle. Under the environmental shield, it was more of a formality, available for emergencies. Some people made use of the complimentary lockers inside to stow some belongings and change into their clubwear. We could all feel the thrumming bass of the music within. Someone pressed the cycle button. It ran its process, and upon completion, the interior door popped open.
I stepped out and was hit with a wall of sounds that moved everything around me. A heavy, pulsing bassline that drowned out the melodies above them. I worked on my headset, meant to help talk over the noise. To my left, the bar, to my right, a sea of people on the dance floor. I stopped by Kal at the bar and played nice. Ordered the Korvuni Blue, which tasted like fermented citrus, and hit like a truck. Haelga made a good call.
I paid for the whole bottle, took it, and traversed the floor from the outskirts, along the tables on the far side. A sea of bodies writhed to the music, currently being spun by a DJ with skin made of gold. Resobeat, this style was called. Not really my thing.
I stepped to the side of two yasre passionately making out. One’s feathers had been shaped like a mohawk and the other was seemingly normal, aside from an extra set of yellow and red eyes. I tried to get up somewhere high and look around, but before I could, my headset came alive, “Alice!” The voice I was looking for, but I didn’t see the source. I did a 180-degree turn, and there she was.
She was sitting at a table, beckoning me to come over. Small for a human, though for all I know, she had done that on purpose. Yellow hair that formed into trills, matched with bright red spots on her cheeks that gave her the aesthetic of a long extinct cockatiel. She wore a sweatshirt that hid her frame, which was contrasted with black shorts. Her boots were up on the seat. Birdie.
I approached the table as she shooed two others away. She sat up straight and looked very happy to see me. Good, I was worried things might be weird. “Alice! I haven’t seen you in so long. Or, I think they call you Vulture around here?”
“You checking up on me, Birdie?” I smiled through the awkward feeling in the bottom of my stomach.
Birdie frowned, “We had such a good time a few weeks ago. I guess I just wanted to know you were real… That I didn’t make you up.”
I fought a blush. She was sweet. Too sweet, that was the problem. “I don’t come around here often.”
“Right, haha. Probably not a lot to do for you. Or maybe you’re just busy.”
“I didn’t know you’d want to see me again.” That was a lie, but it seemed like a better thing to say.
“Of course I did, silly!” Birdie motioned toward the crowd that was completely unaware of our presence, “They’re all nice but it’s so rare to meet someone with your… mystique.” Her pupils were dilated.
“I had a question to ask you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m trying to get into a villa in corplands. I had a feeling you might have some info on it.”
Her look of adoration dropped like a stone, replaced by something raw and hurt. I tried to convince myself I didn’t see tears. “Oh… so this is about work.”
“It’s a good take, I’m sure we could get you cut in.”
Anger now, “It’s not about money you fucking-” She took a breath. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do.” That much wasn’t a lie, I thought she was delightful.
“Then why did you disappear like that? I gave you my number.”
Because I suck. “I got sucked into work. I haven’t been talking to anyone really.”
“I don’t know if I want to help you, Vulture. Maybe you should leave.” She folded her arms and looked away.
I looked away too. Then I reached into my jacket, a refurbished violetcoat from my army days. I pulled out a napkin and unfolded it. It was her contact info, with a beige-pink lip stain mark from where she had kissed it.
When she saw it, that smile came back. Some part of me was glad. “You kept it.”
I nodded.
She swirled the edge of her neon-colored drink with her finger. “Okay, fine. Let’s go back to my place. You can tell me the details.”
*****
I woke up in Birdie’s bed with her tangled around me. My head was fucking killing me. The digital clock on her nightstand said 6:54 a.m., but the lack of windows made it hard to verify. I lifted my head as best I could without disturbing her. My eyes adjusted to the faint power lights of electronics scattered across her spacious bedroom. The brightest of them was the dim yellow glow of the powered-off liquid immersion tank in the corner. My eyes rested on my bag and prosthetics, placed on a chair in the corner.
I looked down at her, nestled into my shoulder. Still fast asleep. She was clutching my good hand, or I would have run it through her hair. She really was beautiful. I stared at her body for a moment, physically gifted too. The night before was fun. Lovely, even. Some part of me still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to let this woman down.
The clock struck 7:00 and a shrill alarm sounded. She stirred, crawled over me, and turned it off before returning to my side. “Morning, Alice.” she eventually muttered into my skin.
“Morning, Birdie.” Her hair trilled when I used her name.
She was quiet for a bit. Her hair flattened, “Are you going to ghost me again?”
There was this pit in my throat. The awareness that comes to one when they realize that they had almost made some terrible mistake, only to be pulled back from the brink by chance. Perhaps by fate. “No, I think we’re past that point.”
“So, we’ll do this again?” the trills were back.
I glanced at the cluttered room and tried to trace a walkable path with my eyes. “Maybe at my place next time, but yeah.” I disentangled myself and retrieved my clothes from the edge of her bed. She tried to help me get dressed, and I gently warned her off. I made my way over to my bag and my limbs. I had daily maintenance to do, but that could wait until I was back at my place.
“So where did we leave off on the Kanra’Las villa?” I said while fitting on my arm.
She was wearing a bra and her shorts from last night. She retrieved an infoslate from a library near the tank and was pressing the scroll button to look through it. She danced over to me triumphantly and delivered in a singsong tone, “This should be allll you need.”
We stepped out of the door from her bedroom/office, and into the living space. A long metal table was covered in papers and the empty bottle of Korvuni Blue we had brought back with us. The room was lined with other furniture. At the far end was a well-stocked kitchen and pantry. Birdie explained last night how this was once an interrogation chamber. She made sure it had fallen off official records.
I looked through the tablet. This definitely was everything I was looking for. “This is so thorough.”
“It’s my job, I know things.” she pointed to the shelves lined with round sports ball-sized fungus drones. The original, less intelligent counterparts of their sporeborn cousins. “They learn things for me.”
I was impressed. I glanced at the doorhatch and she saw me looking at it. “Heading out?” she seemed sad, but a different kind.
“I’ve got to get to my apartment and shave and shower. Do my daily things. Where are we by the way?”
“The Stacks, off towards the edge of a pier, underground.”
My expression was slightly suspicious, “I also live in the Stacks.”
“I figured, I’ve seen you around but I didn’t want to overstep my bounds… I was glad you sought me out.”
I looked at the door again, then looked at her. “We’re meeting at the Hungry Reihn’s near the Lieni Market around 11 a.m. to talk about the plan.” I felt the unfamiliar pounding in my head, “Get some food to work off this hangover maybe. You wanna come with? I’m sure they’d appreciate your insight.”
She smiled like she’d just won the best prize at a festival booth.
