TokyoPewPew
Deadline
MaeB
Mole
Antlers
Aksiram
Captain Uni
JFK
AuthorialTheoryThe drive was chaotic, dizzying and headache inducing, a maze of abandoned infrastructure projects and syncrete rivers. Urban planning was the absolute last priority into the Twin City Sprawl as structures melded into each other haphazardly and a criss cross of empty overpasses jutted out like the branches of an overgrown bonsai.
Keah wouldn’t have it any other way. The serenity of disorder, of imperfection. However, he had to restrain himself from shifting the gear stick or pressing down on the accelerator further this time. He looked up at his rear view mirror. The Pirate Queen herself longued in the backseat of his vehicle along with a few guards wielding bulky gats in shoulder and hip holsters. The route to her destination could have been shortened by at least ten minutes had they given him a chance to use some shortcuts. Unfortunately, he couldn’t argue with campaign
He cut left into a market district, the conga line of roadside vendors and hawkers haggling with the few Zoners that weren’t paying to the election. The sudden jerk in momentum sent a jolt of pain through his lower abdomen, knocking him off his game for a moment before he returned back to his senses.
Still hurting. Just a little bit less than before, though.
“ You know that your contract does not come with a life insurance package, Islander.“
A map of purple blotches covered his torso. The few cuts he sustained during the bar brawl just needed a simple kera-patch. The others needed the hands of an experienced ripper-doc. Or a former Biotechnica genetic analyst. His chest was rising and falling oddly like a punctured balloon. The bitter taste of iron flooded his tongue, Keah half-gagging half-coughing as the Iron Itamae reached into one of his cuts and twisted.
“ Cut my pay. Then - “ Keah hissed as his skin was sewn back together like a patchwork doll “ Then, we can talk more about my contract.”
He’d remembered when he’d first arrived on the outskirts of the Reclaim Zone, entering through the ruins of the Greater Corporate Zone. Driving through the husks and decaying wrecks of defunct and bankrupt corporations into the lair where the newest heirs roamed like lions, feasting upon the remnants of the old. How long was it going to be until they were usurped?
Like the OverDriver.
The rest of the journey from there on was smooth. There were only a few stops every now and then, just to let an auto-track skirt by or give berth to a roving band of Tinmen in their heavily armored APC. When they had finally arrived, Keah took a second glance at the coordinates and then, at the garbage dump in front of him. Was this it? Keah stopped and parked his car in front of the squat grey complex, just beside the teetering wreckage of an abandoned shipping container. He simply adjusts the rear view mirror and gives a simple nod to the Pirate Queen’s reflection.
“ We’re here.”
As he watches her saunter out of the Jury Rigg and walk into the entrance of the meeting area, Keah makes a final check on whether or not his parking is secure. Just as he crouches downwards to perform a bug inspection, he exerts too much pressure on his abdomen and the pain returns, an head-splitting agony that tears his mind in two. A needle of bubbling liquid drops out from his pocket and his hand scrambles towards it.
The pain subsides to a dull throbbing. The Iron Itamae sealed a loop around the last stitch, leaving Keah struggling to lean up on the gurney. The squeaky sound of taps turning and water gushing could be heard past the pounding in his head. The man responsible for saving Keah's life from a drawn out fate of internal bleeding and broken ribs resumes business as normal, dipping his hands into a bucket of water and taking out writhing scaled quicksilver.
"Thanks," Keah grunted out, reaching for his bomber jacket that hung on top of a stool. The Iron Itamae doesn't reply. He zips up the jacket and begins to walk towards the exit, wincing with every moment. Just as his hand reaches towards the door, the imperial voice of the Iron Itamae rings out in a calm monotone.
“ The Zone is not like the other parts of the States, Demon. Your tantrum at the Duat has more consequences than you realise. “The Iron Itamae tutted like a father patronising an unruly child. “If a Scrapteam were to arrive on my establishment because of your actions…..” “ Should I be expecting any more emergencies in the future?”
“ I’ll be more cautious.”
“ Caution? When are you going to stop deluding yourself, Islander?” The Iron Itamae set down the bloodied scalpel next to the sink. “ You don’t fear danger. You crave its embrace. Its warmth. You are addicted to it. You claim to be above your baser instincts but the only comfort you find yourself nowadays is when your hand grips the wheel." The chef leans his head upwards, plucking out the razor thin bones from the fish and looks at Keah, dissapointed. “ I have considered what you have told me.”
“ And?” Keah said, annoyed.
“ Corporate espionage is a time honored tradition in this era. Amalgamation having its hands dirty with the polynesians isn’t that surprising. Your personal enmity with this so called….What was his name again?”
“ The OverDriver.”
“ Ah, you street racers and your ridiculous pseudonyms.” The Itamae began slicing the bream from its nape, working around its gills. “ Your past with him is part of something greater, I assure you, but he is nothing in the face of the election. “
“ He knows where my people are.” Keah begged out. " I can't just....I have to find him."
“ So, what do you plan to do about it?” His knife came down and the Itamae began seperating the pectoral fin from the body “ You’re not a paramilitary assassin. You’re not some Matrix hacker. You are just a simple racer. No one." In a single stroke, the Iron Itamae split the fish down into two fillets, tossing the carcass into a bin. " Instead of trying to hunt him down, I suggest that you do not distance yourself from the few allies you have left. Remember it was I who gave you the contact of the fixer in the first place. It was I who contacted the Ark about the potential opportunities in the Reclaim Zone. I am one of your only allies, and in this world, allies are necessary. ”
The Pirate Queen wasn’t eccentric. No, eccentric was an understatement. Insane was a term used by those who were small-minded and strange was too benign a word. Chaotic was the more appropriate term. Keah trailed behind closely in her shadow, a part of her Party but distancing himself from the dogmatic who held the Pirate's doctrine as divine truth. Petrukov was situated in the center of the room, surveying the meeting place and biding her time for the other party to arrive in the negotiations. Whoever they were. Mercs? Political rivals? Slicers? Fixers? Anything was possible.
Keah slowly walked up to her side and gave a small cough to attract her attention. He briefly wondered whether to tip his hand on Amalgmation's dealings but decided against it. He would decide that after this deal had concluded.
“ Is there anything I should be worried about during this deal, maám?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Just curious. I'm being hired to know when I need to drive you away and when I don't.”
