ZEROGROUNDS

[Tice]

Milus would agree with a nod, turning into his deck. Opening the ZEROGROUNDS stream of corporate info, he'd single out Sunshine. Now, some corporations have 24/7 crews of deckers to be a security force, but this was crippled. Plus, Milus has run jobs like this before. Without actually delivering a hard drive, of course.


He isolated the script that allows a camera to send feedback and record any events in it sight, and placed a twenty second loop of the night before, editing the date and time with an automatic algorithm. He'd do the same with each, and allow the cameras to run normally, as anyone in the day can see that it's not night on the cameras.


"Ah, damnit. Their lights are rustic.'


Course, a decrepit company can't hire staff and equipment to manage efficient lights, which dim and brighten depending on the time of day. This, consequently, makes it impossible to disable the lights over the GROUNDS. Milus would pull in his lower lip a bit as he concentrates on the data-tables, bringing up a bird-eye layout of the interior.


" Could do better, Tanya. Unless you want to turn off the power in that district and piss some coal-mining mogul off, the lights will need to stay on."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

“Looks like “Sunshine” is more than some feel-good name for the customers and shareholders,” Tanya notes, referring to the lights.


“Still, that detail isn’t exactly reassuring. Chances are we can work around not having our cover of darkness, but what does that say if the lights aren’t even networked? Somehow I doubt we’ll find ourselves walking through one of those maximum security corridors with digital, mechanical, and forensic locks, not to mention actual flesh and blood guards every 10 yards, but this could mean that the information from the client could be an approximation at best, and just slightly north of useless at worst. Tampering with the cameras should suffice for nipping our long-term evidence trail in the bud, but we might come across something once we’re inside. Not sure what, just…something.”


Tanya's expression is stone cold, masked behind those wide golden plates.

 

[Tice]

"Yeah, that is true. Do you want to do a little stakeout? Or should we head in the evening?"


He'd get out of the chair, putting his last-night's coffee in the kitchen sink for him to wash later. It was near noon, and he decided to break out some semi-adequate meat he had plundered from Bruce last time he got his deck fixed. He made patties out of them, placing them in a pan on the stove, and stood by, waiting for it to heat the metal.


The sun cascaded down upon a roof-terrace, a round table and propane grill set perpendicular to each other. Milus was at the grill, cooking REAL beef, and no worry in mind that in the next few years, he will experience both the birth and loss of his child. Milus turned his head to his wife, who was already seated at the table. She was never tall, barely passing the five foot median. Her slim frame was betrayed by the slight bulge at her stomach.


"You should eat, Hon. You're feeding two, now."


"I don't think hamburgers are up my alley today, M."


He'd nod, then say-"How about the new sushi place? Word has it that they have some chef from Hagans there."


"I might just skip lunch. I need a shower. And a nap."


Milus, always so quickmouthed, would say-


"Is that shower roomy fo-'


" You keep that thought to yourself, mister." She'd cut him off, stifling a laugh.


"Go on in; I'll just eat your lunch."


"What if I'm hungry later?"


Milus held a sigh. It had been like this on and off since Matilda got pregnant. Sure, he was preparing for it, but it doesn't lessen the blow. He'd let out a chuckle to himself. Fatherhood sure will be something.


"Whats so funny, Milus?"


"Nothing. I'll tell you in the shower."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya shakes her head somewhat dismissively.


"I'm thinking we should pass on the stakeout. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if there are more peering eyes on the outside than the inside. The last thing we'd want to do is attract the attention of some wandering cop who happens to remember us if...or maybe when news of the break-in gets out."


For a moment, Tanya looks a bit dubious.


"And on top of that, the only vehicle at my exclusive disposal right now is that old Hase bike. It could probably get us in and out of there without a hitch if we're smart about it, but with no cover like we would get from a car, and the wide block structure in some of the commercial districts, the advantages of casing up the joint might not be worth the trade-off of more exposure."

 

[Tice]

Milus would speak from the kitchen, the knock-off hamburgers grilling upon the stove. The smell was not quite meat-like, almost like burning wood.


"We'll skip it, then, and do it tonight. Hell, we could do most of our casing from the cameras. How do you think security there will be? Inside the complex, I mean."


He had his doubts; he was no fighter. He kept a small caliber pistol in his dresser, but he didn't know how to professionally use it. He was out of his depth on this one. For now.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya makes her way over to an improvised worktable, some rusted metal office desk standing on top of rounded square plastic risers. She reaches into a grey polymer tub and removes a cheap-looking electric flechette pistol housed in an impact-resistant body. Formally known as the Aspekt T26e, the handgun’s stock settings legally qualified it as a “Schedule A1 firearm: Suitable for sporting or hobby use,” in all but the highest security sectors of the city. But to Tanya, the gun was just called a “pump,” both for the stiletto shape of the computer module at the base of the handle, and the sound of its pneumatic firing mechanism. These guns were touted for their easy modifiability, and all it took was a new battery and the removal of an internal restrictor plate to crank up the firepower on Tanya’s to over twice the stock setting. The company pleads ignorance on this specific aspect of the design, but it’s obvious that Aspekt knew what they were doing.


The electric dart launcher had a few advantages over a traditional hot steel gun, but just as many disadvantages, if not more. The handgun could hold far more darts than a standard pistol could bullets, and the pneumatic firing mechanism was both quieter and did not trigger gunshot alarms that detected the presence of sulfur. It also helped that the on-board computer at the base was compatible with Tanya’s optics system, tracing a hot pink reticle along the inside of her mirrorshades wherever she pointed it, but the module could also make for cumbersome reloading as it would have to be flipped open to access the magazine. Furthermore, even the heaviest darts had poor penetration against a protected target, and their effectiveness against a bare human body could be questionable as well. The narrow darts provided such little resistance that fletchers were known for puncturing a body clear through, making small, painful wounds that were difficult to treat, but nonetheless failed to transfer their full energy in an impact.


"I wouldn't anticipate much in terms of feet on the ground. Good security personnel are a recurring expense that I imagine Sunshine is not able or willing to front right now. And I don't get the sense that they'd be willing to lease out this particular aspect of their operation to some of the "independent contractors" that take jobs like these on the cheap. Still, it would be wise to go in prepared"


Tanya then removes a ragged cardboard box from underneath the desk and raises it to the surface. As she opens its folds, the interior of the box contains three sections of long black rods connected by a shiny mechanism composed of a ball and sockets joint connected with a rotating U-swivel joints lay inside the box, her Viper, as she sometimes called it.


Tanya’s experience with the three-section staff started after she had her reflex accelerator enhancement installed. Her practitioner, a Dr. Haotian Luo, was something of a advocate for “alternative” therapies. Rather than the normal slew of exercises and calibration tests, the good doctor instead gave her a cheap, foam-padded three section staff most and a diskette containing most of an instructional video series called Sanjiegun with Sanji. Memories of the old recordings come racing back to her...


A camera comes to life, showing the scene of a medium-sized storage unit decorated with a variety of martial arts paraphernalia. The hammock and scuffed blue cooler overflowing with cheap pre-packaged meals in the shape of bento boxes suggest that the makeshift dojo is Sanji’s “home office.” A moment later, a small, short-haired man wearing a wrinkled polyester Mandarin shirt along with a pair of black track pants and a pair of worn-down white trainers that look like ragged slippers on his feet enters the shot. His only vanity is a pair of small teashades, smoke-colored lenses obscuring his eyes. He gives a short, awkward introduction before picking up a bundle of three white plastic rods held together by artificially bright gold chains fixed to heavy endcaps of the same color. With the middle section held in one hand, he releases the other sections of the bundle and lets them hang limply to the side for a moment.


Sanji’s demonstration is rudimentary at first. He starts with a simple helicopter spin in front of him that gradually increases in tempo. Then he nimbly passes the rotating instrument behind his back a few times before catching the last section under his right thigh and throwing it back again in the other direction. Sanji throws out a series of quick thrusts and swings with one section of the staff held in his right hand while spinning the other two sections defensively. He jumps back for a moment and takes one section in each hand like a pair of escrima sticks and throws out another sequence of quick strikes before flipping it around with the middle section facing outwards, using it to block, parry, and trap the attacks of some invisible enemy. With a somersault, he begins whirling the staff around him, using the rotation of his body and arms to increase the intensity of the swing with each cycle. Finally, Sanji punctuates the demonstration by dashing forward, running along the side of a concrete wall, and vaulting himself over a ladder while still whirling the staff around him. The outermost section of the staff connects with a jug full of water sitting precariously at the top of the ladder. The force of the impact is so great that it explodes into rain of liquid and flexible plastic fragments. As he sticks the landing and takes a few moments to catch his breath, he walks over towards the center of the shot once more and gives a curt bow.


While Tanya would likely never meet Sanji’s level of finesse in this lifetime, the videos were more than adequate for giving her a sound grasp on the fundamentals of fighting with this exotic weapon. While an inexperienced fighter using a solid weapon could go for years without correcting the problems in their form, the immediate feedback that a flexible weapon provided meant that it had to be handled as if it were an extension of one’s own body. Her new cybernetics and the foam-padded practice staff did wonders for her hand-eye coordination and sense of balance, but when it finally broke, Tanya was soon at work trying to build a new one using spare parts from the shop. And when she came across the opportunity to buy a set of motorized actuators and tube-shaped batteries that fit the dimensions of her new staff, she knew exactly what she was going to do.


"I should probably head downstairs and give the bike a once-over before we head out, take the chance to install the new brake lever, at the very least. Just say the word if there's anything you need before we leave," Tanya adds as she picks up her orange riding jacket from the door handle and puts it on once more.

 

[Tice]

Milus would gesture for her to leave, a bit dismissive of her much more impressive armory. Stepping into his cluttered room, he'd pull the firearm from the drawer. It was a basic design, before newer models, made to fire physical lead bullets and not electricity or some other war mogul's toy. He held the grip in his hand, and leveled the sights to his left eye. He'd see the line marking the expected trajectory, while unimportant info such as room humidity, temperature, and others. He'd close his eyes, running a finger along a memorized board atop his eyelid. It'd remove the unnecessary info, bringing a dark-blue outline of the room into view. It'd pull out patterns, linings, and other bits of info of the clutter. This organized whatever was in his sights and gave feedback on what he was seeing in a separate box in his left eye vision.


He got the piece from a friend, after the Gulf War. Over in the Eastern side of the world, Milus's eye was pierced by shrapnel, rendering it useless. When he got back, it was replaced by a grown-vat eye. However, after he was blacklisted, a doctor offered to tune it in gratitude of his service. Being naïve to blacklist communities, he accepted, and went under a lengthy operation. When he was brought to, the "doctor" explained how the optic was powered by a rechargeable Alithin battery behind the socket. He didn't get into much more detail other than the controls, and sent Milus on his way. Apparently, as he learned later, Irinas City detectives used the tech in microscopes to scan crime scene data, as it formed likely outcomes using mathematical algorithms.


In any sense, Milus applied it to his wrist-tablet. Although it was originally standard design, he had broke the internal bits to place a cyberdeck inside. It didn't have the features conventional decks had, but Milus only used it on other computer devices, so it wasn't risky. He thought of putting the tablet and connecting it to his eye, but would hate for a Blackbook media update to cover his sight on a casual Friday.


He'd turn, placing the gun in a shoulder rig designed backwards, since he was left-handed. It was police-style, under the shoulder and the straps being over the blades. As an afterthought, he'd put a screwdriver in his belt, and tied up his utility pants, lining the pockets with miscellaneous electronic parts and wiring. Tying the duster in front, he'd close the door behind him, turning on a homemade electronic lock that far surpassed the conventional Zedat security measures. He'd grimace then as he'd remember, I hate riding that motorcycle.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

In one of the labyrinthine parking garages of the Zedat building, Tanya sits on the concrete floor with a brown polymer toolbox, installing the brake lever she picked up earlier. Tanya’s motorcycle is all hard grey angles and chipped paint. A tear in the black synthetic leather seat is held closed with some shiny black strips of duct tape. Some forty years ago, it would have been a totally desirable mid-range sport bike. But today, it’s too slow to be a competent racing bike and too small to make a good touring bike. Yet when Tanya saw it at the local co-op, she knew it would still made an acceptable bike for getting around the city if she lowered the gear ratio to take advantage of the short wheelbase. It also helped that the tri-hybrid engine was modern enough to take the cost-reduced synthpetrol solution that was common in the blacklist district. Sure, motors had definitely improved over the past forty years, but the real leaps and bounds were made with the cyberware-integrated components, giving rise to the so-called “borg bikes” favored by gangs, police, and corporate security alike. But it would be some time before Tanya would be able to afford anything on that level. Her cybernetics had limited connectivity with the bike, but she still yearned for something more.


The new brake lever fits on the bike nicely, and Tanya takes the opportunity to unceremoniously dispense of the old one, not even considering the possibility of trying to sell it again. While she probably won’t be speccing out her own borg bike anytime in the near future, she would hopefully have enough to enjoy some degree of financial security for a small time, maybe have enough to buy something nice. Hell, maybe she’d come across an old sidecar from the co-op. Milus would probably enjoy that more than sitting on the back seat of some old road bike that handles like a squirrel dosed up on snapjack. But for tonight, he’d have to deal.


After taking a few minutes to test the tightness of some crucial components by hand and run the on-board diagnostics on the bike, Tanya figures that the bike is running about as well as it should under the circumstances. But still, the results of the test only further drives home the idea that they’d be totally outpaced on the road should they find themselves chased by a better-equipped pursuer. Tanya could disappear into an alleyway when she needed to, but things probably wouldn't go as well with two people on the bike. The old lithium battery for the electric component of the hybrid engine had lost most of its charge, but thankfully it should still give them more than enough distance to make a silent approach.


After getting back to her feet, Tanya stands up and removes her phone from her pocket, a curved slab of yellow plastic with white accents. Sliding her finger across the large faded touchscreen, she writes out a text to Milus,


“Bike’s looking pretty good. Just let me know when you want to meet me down here.”

 

[Tice]

Milus felt the tablet vibrate as he read the message, and dismissed it; he'd surprise her. He'd ride the elevator to her level, opening to a widened hallway of concrete and flickering lights. It was poorly maintained, water damage and crevices apparent. He'd then push a steel door aside, entering the public garage. The bike was small and out of sight, but the lack of owned vehicles in the garage made it easy to locate it.


He'd approach the bike, saying-


"It's not gonna explode mid-ride, is it?"


He'd raise an eyebrow, noting that the bike to Tianna was like the computer to him; rubbish, but an integral part of themselves.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya smirks as she shakes her head a bit. "Nah, probably not today. That's to say, hopefully not."


Tanya mounts the bike and triggers the ignition, bringing the old Hase motorbike comes to life once more. She puts her scuffed orange helmet on and says, "Let's head out," her voice obscured by the helmet and the sound of the engine.


Milus gives Tanya a route towards the Sunshine building that should minimize their exposure to CCTV and surveillance drones. Milus then boards the narrow seat of the old motorcycle and they take off with a quick jolt of speed. They head in the direction of one of the main thoroughfares and after a few miles, they make a right turn and exit towards the L-6 underground tunnel.


The L-6 tunnel is a long hexagonal cavern of blue-tinged LED lights. The sound of the bike’s whining combustion engine reverberates heavily within the expanse of steel and concrete. Tanya twists the throttle a bit harder as she directs the bike around some slow-moving buses and box trucks, but her movements are precise and methodical, not hasty or reckless. She holds her line without much trouble.


Tanya maintains the lead in the horde of traffic for a few minutes until the vehicles behind her clear a path in the rightmost lane. And only a few seconds later, a purple recumbent delta trike overtakes her with blinding speed, its angular, geometric fairings giving it the appearance of a jet-powered sled. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. The consistent, pure tone of its engine lingers well after the trike disappears from sight.


The tunnel’s exit brings them to a run-down commercial district known as Pioneer Vista. The traffic in the street thins out as the two ride past increasingly ill-maintained buildings. Peering into the distance, Tanya can see the illuminated logo of the Sunshine corporation standing with a sense of hollow triumph atop an unimpressive beige office-warehouse. The bike’s engine suddenly goes silent as Tanya slips into one of the narrow alleyways and begins making a slow approach, aided by the electric component of the engine.


As Tanya inconspicuously parks the bike near a dumpster that obscures it from peering eyes while also keeping it ready for an escape, the two dismount and scope out the building for a few moments. A set of docking ports for trucks and transportation drones lines one side of the building, presumably leading towards the warehouse floor, while a few doors and windows suggest open paths towards the office section of the building.


Tanya looks towards Milus before saying in a hushed whisper, “So, how do you want to go about this?”

 

[Tice]

He'd think for a moment, opening the CCTV from yesterday. He'd begin the loop now, before they were in a camera's view.


"Well, if I had a computer hard drive with my credits and info on it..."


He'd end the sentence, gesturing to the door and windows made of a more aesthetic material.


"The office would be more likely. Warehouse logs are probably separate and not part of the plan. We shouldn't worry about the cameras, and I doubt the security room is manned anyway."


He'd look to the door, and a large keypad next to the frame was apparent.


"If I get to that pad, I should be able to open the door within the minute. The windows are probably internally locked."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya peers around at the building from the alleyway, using her cybernetic optics to cut through the darkness and distance. She spots a security camera, but dismisses it as a potential threat in light of Milus' script.


Tanya takes a few steps towards the building as she scopes out the last few blind spots between them and the keypad on the door. Determining that the path seems safe, Tanya gestures towards Milus and starts walking slowly towards the keypad. Her gait is casual and the worn-down boots on her feet do a reasonably good job muffling the sound of her steps. Tanya then slides her hands into the unzipped pockets on her riding jacket, not doing a very good job of concealing the fact that she might be up to no good.


Milus and Tanya are standing within range of the keypad.

 

[Tice]

Milus had a gait similar to a gazelle (that one's for you), moving tersely and with spring unlike his seemingly aged appearance. Hunching to the keypad's level, he'd open his wrist-deck and connect it first to the port alongside the keypad, then to the spot in his head.


He'd close his eyes, pulling the simple script apart at ease and tricking the pad into thinking that he typed in the proper code, disengaging both the lock and the alarm for forced entry.


"After you, M'lady."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

With a light push by Tanya, the door opens with a surprising degree of silence and grace. If the exterior were any indication, she would have expected the thing to have some groaning, rusted hinges on it. Looks like the maintenance budget is at least good enough for them to get this one mercy.


And true to Milus' earlier report, most of the lights are on. The office furniture also looks like it hasn't been changed in a few decades. Some of the desks are messy and overburdened while others are empty, looking as if they've been cleaned recently.


Tanya looks around the room a little nervously before turning back to Milus and asking, "So did they tell you exactly where we're supposed to find this thing, or are we supposed to go digging through this heap?"

 

[Tice]

"Either they forgot or they assumed it was in plain sight. See if you can find anything, I'll look for a manager's office or something."


He'd walk, mostly with his nose inches from the tablet. Pacing the scarce room, he'd note the lack of any ACTUAL work produced from the papers. Most were filler, full of logs that are no doubt already stored in a warehouse terminal. Some did seem to show drone transmission transfers, and he saved the codes for future reference.


"Hell, not every one of these desks have a computer. Look for an actual terminal that'd take a hard drive."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya slips her gloves on before she starts rifling through the papers and drawers in the office. Somehow she doesn't get the sense that they'd even consider it worth the time to do any sort of extensive forensic search should anything go missing from this place, but it still gives her a little bit of peace of mind.


Some of the desks simply contain power and data cables along with other cheap peripherals that are useless on their own. None of the papers she quickly glances through seem to reveal any pertinent information.


After making her way through several desks, she comes across a drawer that seems to be jammed. After giving it a few strong pulls, a dent forms at the top of the small metal door as it suddenly pulls out. It seems the drawer was actually held shut by some flimsy joke of a lock.


Tanya takes a moment to fish around in the drawer. It seems to be more papers nested in a cardboard box until something in the back corner catches her eye. She reaches in and removes a key. That is to say, some ancient-looking mechanical key attached to a round yellow rubber disc with a "W" stamped on it.


She holds it up towards Milus and says, "Well, there's this thing. Might be worth holding onto."

 

[Tice]

He'd look over, lowering the tablet as he does so.


"Looks important. Wonder why the key has a hugeass W on it and why it was in a normal desk. Thing looks like a fossil."


As an afterthought, he'd look to the ceiling with his hand on his chin, then turned to her, saying-


"It could just be the poor guy's house key."

 

[HeyGayzelle]

"Yeah, can't really say. Considering the joke of a firewall on that front door, I wouldn't be surprised if they're just banking on diversifying their security measures even if every single one of them is shit. Hell, even if you could deck through this place like a wet paper bag, I don't even know how accurate their inventory listing would be."


Tanya looks around the office area a bit more, and noticing a few doors they haven't seen before, says "Well, we could keep digging through this side of the building if we want. No solid clues yet, but we should probably try to avoid backtracking, if at all possible. If this ends up taking us some time, exiting from our point of entry might could prove riskier."

 

[Tice]

"I'll try some of these doors, see if I find something."


He'd turn, opening the first one closest to him. It was obvious that the worker was a higher rank, given that he had private quarters. It was sparsely furnished, with an L-shaped metal desk, a chair behind and across it. The room was dark, the lights turned off. He'd walk behind the desk, rooting through drawers before folders on top. It was mundane, most of the stuff office-work related.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

Tanya takes a moment to explore the other end of the corridor. This end of the hallway contains a heavy door secured by an electronic lock. The door presumably leads to the warehouse section of the building. As she peers further down the other end of the hallway, she notices a large stack of heavy-looking boxes which seem to have negligently been abandoned directly in front of another door. Figuring that she didn't break into the Sunshine building just to strain herself fixing their own lazy mistake, she makes her way back to Milus in the other room.


"Looks like a connection to the warehouse is at that end of the hallway," Tanya says quietly. "Also there's a huge stack of boxes in front of another door. What about you? Come across anything in here?"

 

[Tice]

With a debilitated sigh, he'd reply-


"Nothing. Junk that we don't need. Did you see any managerial looking offices on that end?"


The boxes could be a problem if they needed to get past them. After all, Milus was hardly what you'd call a bodybuilder.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

"Damn," Tanya says with a sense of resignation. "Is this what separates the pros from the amateurs? Their ability to find useless shit amidst other useless shit in some messy office?"


"But nah, I haven't been in there yet. Might as well check it out," Tanya whispers as she makes her way towards the door.


The door opens easily until it hits something vaguely soft in a blind spot on the other side. Tanya peers around with interest, but is disappointed to find that it's just some cardboard box with Mandarin script written on it, a small motor like the one you might find in a cheap labor automation robot resting inside. She sighs a bit at the seemingly useless discovery as she starts looking through the rest of the office.

 

[Tice]

Milus was in step behind her, saying as an afterthought.


"Maybe we're looking at it all wrong. This isn't JUST a warehouse. It's the main headquarters. So we're not looking for a manager, but a CEO. I wonder if this is counterintuitive and the drive is stashed outside the building. But looking at how shabby the place is, I doubt we're dealing with heavy thinkers."


He'd turn his head to the box, arriving at the same conclusion as Tianna. Damn Chinese tech stealing the market.

 

[HeyGayzelle]

"So what exactly do you have in mind?" Tanya asks in a slightly hushed voice. "And what kind of profile did they give you about this drive anyway? They know if it's currently networked? Say anything about who owns it?" She pauses for a moment, thinking of the best way to continue her thought " Err, at the very least did they say anything about what it looks like?"


Tanya goes back to giving the room a few brief scans, largely unassisted by her cybernetic optics. She supposes it's possible something may still be lurking around, but she realizes that Milus' estimation could well hold water in its own right.

 

[Tice]

"I suppose they assumed I'd know. It's a small, rectangular black box with wires sticking out of the sides."


His lenses revealed nothing special, other than that the papers were distributed without a pattern.


"I propose that we find the CEO office and take apart his computer. Networked or not, they'll notice when it's gone."


He'd look around a bit more, the room entirely indescript.


"I wonder what the hell this room is for..."