[Original Novel] Metal Fever, Part 2

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Part 1}

When the vintage Model N drew close enough, my bike’s rear camera confirmed what I already knew. Blondie again. Nice wheels for a farmer. Knows something about Panopticon too, by the way he waited until we entered a tunnel to make his move. The highspeed tunnel network is kept dark as it’s assumed you’re in an autocab or something else that can drive itself.

Because I wasn’t, a notification appeared on my hud that I’d been fined, followed immediately by another informing me that the autopay account I’d set up to handle fines had taken care of it. Smart, not hard. Still winced though. Can’t accumulate too many violations, however minor, without sticking out. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

Unbelievably, he started shooting. I’d really picked a winner this time. Aubrey shrieked as a bullet came within a foot or so of her shoulder, arrested mid-flight by the bike’s deflection array, then suddenly gone in an acrid puff of metallic atoms. The charge meter plunges to 56%.

Same technology used for reactive tank armor. Incoming projectiles are detected, the array aligns to intercept, then sends out an incredibly brief but potent electrical arc. Equal and opposite reaction, projectile obliterated. Really sucks down the battery, though.

Aubrey began pounding on my shoulder, screaming something I couldn’t hear over the combination of wind, gunfire, and motor whine. I set my bone conduction implant to search for nearby devices, found the subvoc in her throat and paired to it. I regretted it the instant I began receiving.

Incurable pottymouth. Really heinous shit, baby L. Ron would weep in his manger to hear some of it. She still tries to audit me now and again, as if I’m the one with mental problems. Gave up trying to talk her out of it years ago, soon after separating our bank accounts.

“He’s fucking shooting at us! If I’d known you were gonna drag me into a shootout I woulda taken that cab!” I pointed out I’d not yet returned fire. As such it wasn’t a shootout. Went over like a lead balloon. I never know the right thing to say. Would bother me, if saying the wrong thing weren’t so consistently entertaining.

A loud hum sounded and the bike’s body dropped noticeably closer to the road the moment I switched the mags on. These drain the battery even worse than the deflector, a popup warning me that I could sustain my present rate of speed for another two minutes forty five seconds at the current rate of draw.

I work best with a deadline. Suddenly veering to the right, I sailed up the side of the tunnel. To my consternation, farmboy’s Model N turned out to have its own mags. So it was that we spiraled about the tunnel as we both careened down it, narrowly dodging autocabs and various private cars. Aubrey cut back in, demanding to be let off.

I identified the nearest motorcycle, shut my lights off, and drifted as close as I could without its proximity alarms alerting the driver. “You can’t be serious”, Aubrey’s subvoc came back. “You wanted off, didn’t you? I’ll be back for you when I’m done.” She climbed onto the startled fellow’s rear seat. I turned my lights back on, drifted away and shot a quick IM to his bike’s hud: “She’s single! Farts in her sleep, though.”

The reduced weight added another fifty seconds to the timer. It’s not so much energy density that’s the problem, it’s power density. How much you can pull, how quickly, without the pack’s inbuilt safety systems kicking in to prevent you from wrecking the cells. Another gunshot rang out, whizzing perilously close to my ear. The abrupt crack of the artificial lightning vaporising it briefly deafened me.

The loud ringing in my ear which followed proved distracting enough that I eventually bothered setting my bone conduction implant to counter it. While I was in that menu, also weaving around the cars of poor terrified folks, good decent folks who simply had the misfortune of sharing the tunnel with me right then, I transmitted an exploit that disabled the Model N’s own warning system. Then, activated selective noise cancellation.

After sampling my surrounding soundscape for a few seconds it identified and separated various sources. The road noise, the howl of the air as I cut through it, motor whine and so forth until all I could hear were faint traces of blondie shouting obscenities through his windshield at me.

“He’s trying to make us hit someone!” One of his buddies in the back seat answered nervously. “We’re going pretty fast, and it’s dark. Shouldn’t you switch it to auto?” He snapped. “He’ll fucking lose us if I do that! Maybe that’s what he’s counting on. Shoulda just shot him outside the bar.”

I played to his expectations. Luring him near semis and autocabs one after the next, only for him to wisely keep his distance. Must’ve really thought he had me figured out until the tunnel ended. I had the distinct pleasure of listening to their terrified screams as the soon to be flaming Model N, still magged to the ceiling of the tunnel, abruptly ran out of ceiling.

I switched my mags off and heaved a sigh of relief as the range estimate jumped. Then I remembered Aubrey. Having already paired with the guy’s bike to send him the IM, I had the ID necessary to locate it and was soon alongside his bike. Aubrey precariously stood up on the back of his bike and made the crossing to mine while I kept it as stable as I could.

An IM from his bike appeared on my hud. “No problem. I’m way into that.” I puzzled at it for a moment, then returned to the business of getting Aubrey home. The range estimate fell to 15 miles from 20 as soon as she got on. Woof. I’d get on her for weight if I didn’t know it was mostly implants. I’m pushing 220 myself, and I’m built like a scarecrow.

With the range warning blinking, I pulled up to the bike vendor. Not a lot of apartment towers have one, it was a big factor in choosing to live here. After detaching the sidecar, I inspected the rear deflector for signs of damage, then eased it into the alcove.

Some immense, unseen subterranean mechanism then swallowed it. Like a vending machine, hence the name. When I wanted it again I’d just request the bike with my ID from their app and it’d spit it out in under a minute.

Makes me nervous. If I ever need to leave in a hurry, most likely the cops would put a hold on my bike. It simply wouldn’t dispense it. But if that ever happened, running would be no use anyway. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Smart, not hard.

Once in the door, I docked my slab at my desk. No need for the physical connection except there’s a coolant loop it connects to. The system is built into the desk, piping coolant through the slab lets it run more intensive programs without waste heat melting it.

The wireless power also never works in my room, so a lot of my shit has to be plugged in. This tower’s already low rent, and I’d picked the filthiest, most roach infested apartment. Gotta keep up appearances. I bought one of those flexible charging mats recently that you put under your mattress to charge all your implants while you sleep.

Medical implant says it’s destroying my sperm count, an added benefit the manufacturer oddly doesn’t advertise. Aubrey confronted me about the events in the tunnel. Why here? The overhead lighting harsh shades of green and purple. Really brought out every wrinkle and blemish. “Fucking amphead, did I tell you to dump me on some rando?” I shrugged. “You wanted off.”

“He could’ve been a psycho!” Compared to me? I asked if she was alright. “I’m not hurt if that’s what you mean. He left me his profile ID and….links to some weird websites. I didn’t look too closely.” My cheeks inflated, but I did not let the laugh escape.

“Everything’s where you remember it, though? All your blood on the inside?” She nodded. “Don’t I always deliver you safe and sound? I would never let anything happen to you, Aubs. Part of me still cares, and always will until I have it cut out and replaced with more metal.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “Ah! I saw that! A smile. That’s halfway to a laugh. And if you laugh, I got away with it.” I monkeyed around a little longer until satisfied she wasn’t gonna cut me out of the lease. “I didn’t laugh though. You’re still in deep shit.”

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^{Stay Tuned for Part 3!}