“So, who was it?” I raised my finger to ask Joseph to be quiet for a second as I chugged down a Virgin Sacrifice, one of the few non-alcoholic drinks at Maria’s place. The only words we had exchanged since the phone call were me asking him to get in my car. I began slamming the glass down on the counter, but stopped at the last second and put it down calmly.
“Some douchebag making himself look like a shitty skeleton and prying into personal matters he should not be prying into. Maria! Another Sacrifice for the Daemon Fucker, please! And a grilled cheese with it, thank you!”
“Daemon Fucker, when did you hear that one?” Maria asked while mixing the drink.
“Some asshole yelled it at me a month ago.”
“Okay, M, but what do you mean by shitty skeleton?” Joseph asked, his eyes full of curiosity.
“The Bulletin was one Jacob Grimm.” I didn’t chug the second drink, only took a sip. “Bastard doesn’t even make fairytales more misogynistic for a living.”
“What? Jacob Grimm? The Harvester? We have a job from him?” I raised my glass in a toast to answer Joseph, taking another drink. “We’re going to be so rich, M, who knows if we will have to work again!”
“Don’t get too excited yet Joseph, it’s a heist. We’re robbing Rabbithole.” That was the moment for a record to scratch and for everything to fall so silent you could hear a penny drop. But the music kept going over the speakers, digital and without issues being read that could make it skip or scratch.
“Okay I know Corkscrew gets their bread doing it but they do it from the comfort of their own home, nobody walks into any Rabbithole facility to rob it! What are we even stealing?” Joseph was as quiet as the speakers would allow him to be, leaning towards me in the process.
“No clue, I find out tomorrow at six at Guts, the client requested it.” Maria finally slid the sandwich in front of me and I dug in, calming my nerves with the overwhelming explosion of glutamates on my tongue.
“Mom, can I get a Disbelief Cure?” Maria rolled her eyes at his request and got out a row of tequila shots. “Who’s the client?”
“Some girl named Kim. He was showing some more info about her on the dosier but it was medical records and stuff he could dig up, nothing really personal and yet extremely personal. Really creepy shit.”
“Yeah, I can imagine that was spooky, makes you think what he has on us.” Joseph threw a shot down, taking his time with the next.
“Definitely more on you than on me. Not a person, remember?” I pointed above my head, to where I would have had a halo today if I was legally a person.
“I was wondering why you didn’t have one. I just thought Century was using some Daemon magic to keep it off of you.” Maria admitted while washing a glass.
“Don’t think she could if she wanted to, it’s all legal marking nonsense. Right,” I got the address out “any one of you know where this is?” Sarah took the card from me and looked it over.
“Yeah, that’s near Strike, eastern part of town, close to the factories.” She handed me the card back.
“It’s called Strike? Seriously? Sheesh, and I thought we had cheesy names.” I finished the sandwich and got up, slapping some cash on the table. “It was great as always, Maria.”
Century was mapping out the city, so it didn’t take her long to navigate me to the address once she had a vague idea of its location. It was an old, rundown supermarket. Just a concrete slab with no windows and a set of barred up doors up front, melted down shopping carts providing a barricade. I went around the side, towards the employees-only entrance, and knocked. There was no response. “So I guess you expect people to say the password without asking for it outright?” I took out the card. “Fucking... how do you even read the squigly lined shit? And why couldn’t you have just made it the English version of it, you know, Workers of the World Unite?” Century had provided me with the translation, but she couldn’t speak it so she didn’t give me the phonetic version. “Proletari vsech zemi, spojte se? Ugh, I screwed that up big time I’m sure.”
The door opened with a sudden force, and I was pulled in. Century barely managed to jump in before the door closed. The individual holding me up had industrial grade cyberware, they were basically a one person bulldozer. “I see what Grimm meant with being built for strength instead of precision.”
“What outfit are you with? You a scab?” They were grimacing at me, their teeth looking godawful. Century was hissing at them, her tail blade exposed.
“Freelancer, can’t really scab. They don’t even give you dental, huh?” The walking jackhammer growled at me.
“Francis, put her down. If the Summoner intended us harm, she wouldn’t have knocked.” The voice came from a fair distance away, and from an angle I couldn’t turn my head to. Francis put me down, leaning against the wall, keeping their eye on the door. The lights turned on, letting me take a look at the gathering. Every single one of them sported specialised industrial cyberware, stuff that puts so much strain on your body you end up needing an exoskeleton to move your fleshy parts in the future, nevermind the chronic pain associated with them. One of them was leaning on a desk, their red hair tied back with a bandanna, both their arms replaced with pneumatic-enhanced ones built for carrying ten ton steel bars. “I’m River, the Chair of this branch of The Union. She/her, please. You mentioned Grimm, Summoner. How is the Harvester involved?” I casually approached River, grabbing a crate on the way I put down in front of the table and sat on.
“Grimm’s being a Bulletin for a heist. I see the client tomorrow, but he suggested I go visit all of you before then, get some help.” I leaned on the table, trying to fake confidence. If I screwed up I could at least outrun everyone, or slide under them and elbow their backs if they attacked. I really hoped it wouldn’t have to come to it. These people were comrades.
“A heist. How would we help with a heist? Pulling off the doors of a safe?” River chuckled before she sighed.
“The client wants to steal something from Rabbithole. I need an escape route.” River looked at me with the intensity of a bargain hunter. She then turned to another Union member.
“Watson, your team is currently working on that new attraction in the Kingdom, aren’t they?” Watson nodded to reply. “How complete is it?”
“We’ve finished the service tunnel foundations last week, about a month and a half left of putting it together and testing it all out.” Watson sounded about twenty years younger than they looked, with salt and pepper hair and a trimmed beard. They didn’t have the kind of industrial cyberware like the others, but their arms were still not their original ones. Being the foreman must have freed them of requiring back breakers, but they must have had them on long enough where the harness they had on was mandatory for them.
“I’m not sure if the heist target is in Rabbit Kingdom, y’all.” Putting all your assets in one easy to access area sounded stupid.
“Rabbithole has no other offices or building in Dusklight. It’s all part of their Kingdom amusement park. Hotels, attractions, office buildings, studios, they are, in practice, their own city state. They are only tangentially connected to Dusklight.” River explained while crossing her arms and sitting down.
“Oh, well then. That’ll make getting an in either really easy or really hard. I guess it depends on what the client tells me.” Somebody rushed into the room, panting, dragging their arms on the ground.
“River,” they began, “it’s the Pinkertons. They’re on their way here, ETA ten minutes.”
River hissed at the news. “And I liked this meeting place too. Okay everyone, clean up and get out, scatter and rendezvous at the abandoned mall north of here in three days!” She got to dismantling everything, taking all the plans that were visible and all the posters.
“Pinkertons? Seriously? Couldn’t you regroup at Oddington or something?” I stood up, shaking my head. “I’m not even dressed for the occasion.” The undersuit was left at home since I had driven here straight from the bar.
“You already have trouble with cops, no need to add a PMC into the mix.” River had opened up a grate and was making her way down it. “Oh, right, password in case you want to talk again, the new one is: Od každého podle jeho schopností, pro každého podle jeho potřeb.” The translation flashed in my mind as subtitles.
“Seriously, we’re in the NS, couldn’t you just have it be in English?” River smiled at my comment.
“And neglect my heritage? No way. I wish our meeting had a nicer end to it, Summoner. Goodbye.” With those words, she closed the grate and slid down the ladder, and I, to avoid trouble, turned off the lights and ran out. As I drove away, I could see armored vehicles drive past me, a stylised eye decorating each one.
“Yeah, don’t think I’d be able to deal with those, Cent. Not on my own.” I checked the clock. “We’ve had a long day, let’s go home and pass out.”
Of course the pinkertons would still be around in the future