Stan

The wake up buzzer was getting louder and louder. It’s no good when the buzzer rings inside your head like this, nothing will make it stop until you are fully awake. Perks of digital brain mods, they sense you.

Stan slid out of the sleeping pod, and as it curled itself and disappeared from sight, the faint humming of the zoned-out pod waiting to be called upon again. Stan’s head was still ringing from the buzzer, with a dry mouth he stepped into the shaper pod. The shaper pod was a standard design, Stan could not afford the new fancy ones yet. The shaper was taking care of Stan’s nutrition, hydration, hygiene and medical diagnosis, while assembling and fitting his clothing. Both the banging headache and the dry mouth quickly disappeared as the meds kicked in.

The mods beeped inside his head as they got charged by the shaper. Another day of heightened mindNet connectivity was looming. They knew about him alright, but they left him to do his business.

Stan stepped out of the shaper and picked up the interface from the floor. Last night was a messy one, from what he could make from the video feed log, he got lucky – again.

The bloody meds are making me reckless, Stan mused.

The eye implants were playing back last night’s events, at 22:30:57 exactly how the laser blast nipped at his arm shield bouncing straight into the head of a nearby trancer. The electric shock alone should have melted his face, but the trancer kept walking as if nothing had happened. The problem with trancers is that they never snap out of it, the deep trance flow of consciousness is too overwhelming to let physical pain interfere with their symbiotic communion with mindNet. An incident report must have been filed nevertheless by the trancer’s AI implant. Stan could get a summons…

The kid with the laser gun was aiming at Stan’s face now. But Stan was a quicker, sharper shooter. Stan’s blaster gun charge threw the kid backwards against the wall. He had no chance. Stan downloaded the kid’s interface into his own and let him die. An ambulance would pick up the mess moments later.

He shut the video playback down, stored the interface in his side patch and headed to the entrance of his living quarters. Stan knew he had full immunity in Opax, after all he was a certified class II rogue bounty hunter. But being reckless is not what he could afford to do, if he wanted to make it alive that is.

The door opened and Stan walked out. He negotiated the impossible labyrinth of corridors until he arrived to the building’s launcher. Stan got an incoming message. His new target had been selected. The launcher pad hummed as his interface send the coordinates of his next destination. Downtown it is. The launcher pod flashed as it sent Stan through the hyperlink. A few seconds later Stan was in Downtown’s launcher pod. He loved instant travel, but he needed to pace it a little, otherwise the radiation would eat his bones away, and no standard shaper can fix that after a while.

He stepped out of the pod and faced the crowd. His target was blinking further ahead. He had to move fast if he wanted to visit Shen later on. Shen was Stan’s little sister. She was almost a fully converted droid now, but inside all the metallic alloy implants it was still her little sister’s mind. He had a soft spot for her. After her accident at the Factory, he did everything he could to restore her into a fully operational cyber-body. Shen was broken but Stan could fix her.

Stan locked his interface to his target. A cyberpunk again, 18 years old, female. It could be worse. Stan loved the hunt. He was good at it, and everyone knew it. The prey had no chance against this predator. He picked up the pace, bumping into trancers and a few loggers as well. Not good when a target has been pitched to many potential suitors. He had to move faster now. He will deliver. As always.

Esta obra está bajo una Licencia Creative Commons Atribución-CompartirIgual 4.0 Internacional.