Chapter 4
Pairs well with Police Truck, by Dead Kennedys
Later that evening, Juan and Rafiq walked on their way to guided duty. Rafiq was slightly more sympathetic than Greta had been, “Damn man, that sucks. You shouldn’t have let your guard down though.”
“It’s not like I meant to, I thought she was out.”
“You gotta make sure. You should know better than that. Check your corners, scan the field, and all the rest of that muck.” The inference being that Rafiq would not have made the same mistake.
Juan didn’t respond. His feelings of jealousy, injustice, and disappointment in himself were heightened by the knowledge that his friend seemed to be enjoying it on some level. He shouldn’t be surprised, everything in their world was competition– at least with Rafiq it was the friendly version.
“Hey man, relax, at least you get to stay with me tonight. I’ll make sure you do well. Y’know I got you.”
Juan wasn’t sure why Rafiq should be so confident. They both had the same standard hardware upgrades in their arms and legs enhancing their abilities to run, jump, climb, and fight. They were physically different though, which meant they were recently given different specialities. Where Juan had the shoulder plate and anchor for heavy artillery, Rafiq- very athletic, quicker, but smaller– had stabilizers in his legs that allowed him to jump more than twenty feet and land safely from as high as forty feet. He also had non-issued blade mounts on his arms which Juan secretly envied– the benefit of rich parents.
They turned the corner, and the Ram came into view. The staunch, cubic building, in the heart of the Battery near the borders of Cogstown and Skid Row, was the staging area for the majority of Krelborn’s guards. The exterior was a deep dark gray, nearly black, reinforced cement which could withstand a direct missile barrage. The interior was opulent, with polished gold-rimmed desks, marble floors, and even crystal chandeliers. While some may have thought that this style was ill- befitting a security force, Juan knew that contrast was the point; it was a show of strength. The security force was the shield that protected Krelborn’s grandeur.
Juan turned his attention back to his friend who had continued talking without pause, “…I couldn’t imagine letting an opportunity like that slip away. What a tough lesson for you.”
They both stopped as they saw Rae leaving the Ram on her special assignment. My special assignment, thought Juan. However, it was not Rae that gave them pause, it was the company she kept. A NetGuard contingent, complete with a jiju.
An anglicized pronunciation of the Chinese word for “spider,” jiju specialized in trapping, acquiring, and eliminating any carp caught in their web. They were menacing to look at. This one’s black metallic body shimmered as it walked due to its integrated camouflage tech. Red “eyes” encircled its torso. Six legs tapped lightly on the steps as it walked past and two tentacles with pincers on the ends oscillated as if looking for prey. Silent, nearly indestructible, lightning quick, and run by advanced AI, jiju’s were the most feared part of any security force. If one was after you, then you were as good as caught.
Jealousy welled up in Juan’s chest anew. The NetGuard was easily the most elite security force in all of Nekonikon. Each megacorp had their own NetGuard division charged with protecting their networks. Anyone could access the PubWeb, but you had to be aligned to a corp to access its much more sophisticated web. Krelnet was Juan’s main source of news, entertainment, and data. It was highly organized and secure unlike the public web, which was generally just a mess of independent user, and dumb-AI, generated content.
Within each private web were security layers protecting increasingly sensitive and classified data. Of course, the friendly competition between the megacorps meant there was an ongoing demand for that secure data. It was well known that throughout Skid Row, there were fixers who could arrange for carp to obtain sensitive data for a price. It was all part of a bustling black market that security forces were tasked with disrupting.
That was where NetGuard came in. Part judicial, part intelligence, part enforcement, NetGuard would spend days, weeks, even months investigating, monitoring, and hunting a carp. These elusive hackers specialized in being unpredictable– fooling and avoiding the AI monitors, but eventually, inevitably, the patterns emerged, and they would have their prey right where they wanted. That was when a jiju was brought out.
“They must have a big carp tonight,” Rafiq inferred from the fact that a full contingent was supporting the jiju including special ops and enforcement grunts, of which Rae walked with the latter. Juan was furious with himself that he let this opportunity slip through his hands. As he watched them pass, Rae noticed him and gave a wink as her pace picked up ever so slightly. The gesture did not improve Juan’s mood.
He and Rafiq climbed the stairs to the main doors and waited at attention. It was 21:58 and their shift didn’t start for another couple of minutes. The sergeant would emerge any moment and expect them to be there.
While waiting, Juan wondered what Rae’s role could possibly be tonight. The jiju would be the one hunting the carp. Carp usually were mobile, in a van on ground level or flying in a drone. The rest of the NetGuard would be strategically stationed around the expected route monitoring for established patterns. It was unlikely Rae would have such a responsibility. She would more likely be part of the enforcement crew sent in to clean up after the jiju made a mess.
Interrupting his thoughts, Sergeant Lessing emerged from the Ram followed closely by two veteran guards. Lessing addressed the two of them. “Privates Fausto, Jones, at ease.” Juan and Rafiq relaxed their postures. “Follow me boys.” They fell in line behind Lessing and the two guards who would be their guides tonight. As they approached their drone, Lessing turned and addressed the four of them.
“Guards Lupton and Varley, meet privates Fausto and Jones. Tonight’s patrol is in the southwest corner of the Dregs. You know the drill, monitor for suspicious activity especially any gangers looking to break into Krelborn territory. Fausto, Jones, observe and absorb. There’ll be a quiz at the end of the shift. Dismissed.”
The drone landed in a busy market area of the Dregs– the southernmost part of Skid Row, poverty stricken and with a reputation for all manner of debauchery. A guard could reasonably assume that anyone living here was likely some manner of criminal.
If you lived in Skid Row, it meant you didn’t work for a corporation. That probably meant you didn’t have a job– or at least a legal one. There was an active black market that ran through the whole area. Like a polluted river carrying garbage to the sea, all manner of illicit material flowed into the greater city, the most common– and most valuable– was stolen data.
Of course, there were some legitimate businesses here. Some enterprising entrepreneurs did well enough to pay the exorbitant license fees. But even these were usually fronts for money laundering and other shady activities. Yes, guards could feel pretty confident in finding crime no matter where they looked in Skid Row. This was doubly true for the Dregs.
The four guards emerged from the drone with batons already in hand. The locals were used to security patrols from the three megacorps and knew to give them a wide berth. Still, Juan knew they had to be vigilant. Every now and then a ganger got the not-so-brilliant idea to try something with a guard– those nights made for good stories to impress their uptown friends. Greta always enjoyed his recountings of violent Skid Row gangers and the exaggerations of his role in quashing the threats they posed.
They spent the first part of their patrol surveying the area. They stopped and frisked a few gangers, handed out some fines for vagrancy, public drunkenness, and even one for indecent exposure when a deranged man in a thong kept his gaze lingering just a little too long for Varley’s liking.
The two veteran guards were good to Juan and Rafiq. Since they would be graduating soon, the regular guards had been treating them more like colleagues and less like burdens. There was a lot of hazing, but it was all in good spirit– at least that’s what Juan told himself.
A few hours into their patrol, they entered a supposedly reputable business. A small corner shop that sold a variety of packaged snacks and drinks, but mainly holos. These were fully immersive, interactive experiences that synced via a person’s neuro. Not unlike more primitive video games, from which holos evolved, these were wildly popular and formed a considerable proportion of the global entertainment market.
Everyone knew there was a black market for illegal holos that was even larger than the legal one. There was something to satisfy even the most depraved desires. Customers could inhabit any role they wished in interactive tortures, murders, and all kinds of illicit sexual acts. AI could create anything a customer desired, but the most expensive were real experiences recorded on a victim’s neuro and packaged for exclusive consumption. There was a good chance that a holo store in the Dregs would be stocking such contraband somewhere on the premises.
Entering the store, Varley signaled Rafiq and Juan to guard the door while he surveyed the back aisles. Lupton walked right up to the counter and addressed a balding old man dressed in a dirty– formerly white– short sleeve dress shirt with back suspenders.
“Jackie!” Lupton’s tone was overly friendly, which was somehow more menacing. “How’s business?”
“F-fine, I suppose. Could al-always be b-b-better.” He adjusted his glasses.
“Heyyy, don’t be nervous Jackie m’boy. We’re here on regular business. Getting a little peckish on patrol y’know. It’s hard work keeping these streets clean for legitimate businessmen like yourself.”
“Thank you. P-p-please help yourselves. No charge of course.”
SLAP! Lupton clapped his hands loudly in mock elation, “Nice! You’re the best.” Varley was already finishing a cold burrito. He gestured to Rafiq and Juan to grab something. Juan declined, but Rafiq grabbed a pack of grilly crisps and started munching. Juan focused on the door, making sure no customers came in while Lupton was interrogating a suspect. Varley shrugged his shoulders and turned away from them, grabbing a beer to wash down his snack.
“Business must be better than I thought, you giving away free food and all.” Lupton continued with his questioning.
“I-I am just always happy to support the law.”
Lupton let out a loud guffaw. “Didja hear that Varley? We got ourselves a patriot! Right here in the Dregs! I mean, of course he’s too good to work for Krelborn. We have a successful independent businessman here! Striking it out here on his own. Good for you Jackie!” Lupton let the silence hang, his smile faded, he locked eyes with his prey and waited for it to say something.
“I-i-is there anything else?”
SLAM! Lupton’s baton came down hard on a rack of candies by the front counter. Red, green, blue, and yellow packages scattered all over the floor as the rack collapsed. Now showing his wrath, Lupton moved to the next stage of the interrogation.
“You rushing us outta here Jackie? You suddenly don’t like guards? I thought we were friends.” The sounds of smashing wood and rustling packages came from the back aisles where Varley was investigating.
“No plea…” was all Jackie could say before Lupton grabbed him by the throat and pushed Jackie back against the wall, causing more packages and shelving to crash.
“You think we’re stupid Jack? There is no way this dive affords to stay open selling this crap!” Lupton held up a standard holo on playing chess to illustrate his point. Squeezing tighter on the shop owner’s neck, “Where’s the good stuff my man?”
Jackie tried to answer but couldn’t speak. Laughing at the elderly man writhing, Lupton opened his hand and let him slump to the floor. Through tears, the shop owner again tried to appeal to the guards. “Please, I paid my license..I treat you good…I did nothing else.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. Varley let’s bag this one and take him in for further questioning on suspicion of trafficking black market holos. There’s plenty here to warrant a temporary closure and thorough search of the shop”
“No wait! OK, I-I-I th-think I know w-what the problem is ss-s-sir.” Jackie rose slowly to his knees with his hands up.
“Oh? And what is that?” Lupton clenched both fists.
“I th-think I forgot to pay my license fee this m-m-month. M-m-maybe I can give it to you, y’know s-since you are here. Y-you can help me clear up this m-mis-misunderstanding.”
Lupton’s posture relaxed, “I think we can work something out m’boy.”