Ikari Line: Ogikubo

35.69925798747249, 139.6218909063989

Razor thin and crimson violent, the scanner’s line slid up his sleeve looking for unguarded clues. A barcode. A service mark. An insignia sketched out in Koto prison ink. Anything the host intelligence might trace back to troop movements. Supply routes. Soft spots, dead drops, or blindheads with machinegun nests. Niko watched the scanner’s line burn the dirt from his synthskin sleeve, tried to forget how the VKA had ground years’ worth of identifiers off.

Not so long ago, his kit had been a collection of the choicest logos. Now, his warranties were void and his servos spun.

For the briefest of moments he told himself it felt nice to be clean. It’d been months since he’d had anything more than a dirty rag for a quick wipe down. He would’ve given anything for a proper tune-up and oil drip.

Something small caught his eye. Mustard-gray, it glinted off his upper arm. Before he could trace the source, he dove instinctively to his side and landed hard on his shoulder. There was a crunch, and his arm swung outward, meeting the barren ground at a crude angle. No way to hide the crash, all he could do was get up. Niko tucked his limb across his ribs and advanced against the nearest wall.

Behind him, the active scanner was still searching through the tamp’s projection, a sickly-bright collage of jagged katakana hovering a hand’s breadth above the incline. Niko eyed the corner of his overlay for the translation but only found the words service offline waiting for him.

He couldn’t recall which surgeon had done it to him.

They’d all done something to him that made him forget their faces. Forget their names. Every time one found him, they started cutting things away.

Humanity had become a ritualized excision.

One less thing to remember.

One less thing to carry.

A race without burdens, still weighed down by the sin of their birth and the same systems designed to prop it up.

Nothing happens here without my approval. He remembered the Colonel’s face. Nothing happens here without my say-so.

The fact you still feel, still remember, still breathe is because I give my permission. You are my child, and I am your father.

Do you understand?

Niko nodded.

He wasn’t, though.

Niko stood still and watched the scanner sweep the field of pink. Back and forth. Left and right. And then it turned off.

His father had died two decades earlier with an EDF knee on the back of his neck. He’d never known the man. By the time the navy had told him, the fleet was already defunct. There was no one to blame.

Father.

The only one he wanted to blame was dead.

He couldn’t be sure though. The surgeons had done so much to him.  If this man wanted to be his father—so be it.

He exhaled and watched the vapor curl through the air. Watched it disappear into the gloom of low light and structured shadows.

Alive by permission, Niko told himself he didn’t belong.

I’m no soldier.

I shouldn’t be here.

There must be a way…

He stared at the warped symbols of the projection and tried to figure out which direction he was supposed to read them. Which way to go. He studied them for a moment and cursed himself for being so dependent on his UI, so weak to be unable to take back what was taken.

Staring, he heard a soft click in his ear and knew Aetch was becoming impatient. A few minutes went by before the other man said anything. When he did, Niko feigned shock.

[Jumpy. Real jumpy. Keep pulsing like that, and they’re gonna hear you coming before you round the corner. Both of us. How about you bring it down a bit? Slower-like. Give us a chance to get a meal in us before you tell the neighborhood where we are, eh?]

Niko looked around but didn’t see anything unusual.

He flexed his arm. It seemed to be working all right as he bent it back and forth. The line that separated the clean from the dirty ended abruptly. The tissue around the implant graft seemed red, but he wasn’t sure whether it was from the roll or just a shadow cast by the sign.

It’s nothing. Probably nothing. You need to keep moving.

Two sets of eyes and ears. Better odds of staying alive. Staying alive was Niko’s only concern, but Aetch kept pushing him forward. Sometimes aggressively so.

[I heard the average lifespan at the front is only twenty-three minutes,] replied Niko. [Hard not to be jumpy.]

[Don’t listen to shit like that. We hit the line half a klick back. You’ve been on borrowed time for most of an hour by now. Ever since you went up that last shaft.]

Niko smirked. [I guess I’m just lucky then. Where are you?]

[Behind you. Why?]

Niko didn’t answer. He was still trying to get a read on the man. He knew almost nothing about him and had been sent into a warzone with him.

[Suppose I tell you. Are you going to wave at me? Tell the scavs where I am so you can go off-mission with your new friends?]

The idea had crossed his mind.

Off-mission. Why am I out here, Aetch?

Double-crossing Aetch might work, but there was no guarantee whoever they met wouldn’t just shoot him at the same time. All else equal, he knew his best move was to stay hidden, to get farther away from the city, away from Tsuyomei and its Gumi.

He looked back through the opening on the other side of the ramp. The door was missing from its hinges, but he was sure he would’ve seen Aetch step out from the opening’s shadow.

Every instinct told him to push forward, but he needed to keep the man with him. At least for a while longer.

This far down, every layer of the Mat was a tangle of ladders and tunnels. Lofts, lots, and closets filled every free space that wasn’t a factory.

Above them, most of it had been broken by the bombardments. This deep, there was still room to move around.

[Hey, Aetch. You aren’t like… stuck in a pipe somewhere, are you?]

He watched a red pip flash on his retinal overlay and thought it looked more orange than it had yesterday.

How was that even possible?

[Where are we, you think? Ogikubo at least. How deep? Twenty? Twenty-five levels?]

The other man didn’t answer.

[No way we’re deeper than twenty-five. I heard everything down there is flooded.]

Niko imagined Aetch hiding behind a half-wall waiting for a patrol to pass. Then he imagined Aetch staring through his scope, crosshairs on his back, and the other man ignoring him.

[You ever seen the stars?]

[Fuck me. These questions. Can’t you just walk?]

[I’m just trying to have a conversation. You have the map. Why am I out in front?]

They’d had the conversation before, and Niko had listened to Aetch dance around not having a good answer.

[I don’t know about stars. Only in vid feeds, I guess.] There was a pause. [If you ask me, it’s all a lie. Ain’t nobody but the directorate and the rich getting off this rock. Costs more than a skinbag full of kit to buy a ticket out of here. You and me, we’re just down here for sport. At least until we catch a bullet or one of those cruisers decides to use us for target practice.]

Now that they were over the line, Aetch was right. Best game in the ruins was chalking up headcounts. Niko wondered if they played the same game with suborbital strikes. A few still happened each week. Got everyone’s attention and kept the Gumi’s troop morale high.

[You’re not instilling a lot of confidence in our partnership right now, Aetch.]

The other man laughed.

[Oh, is that what they told you I’m here for? Confidence?] A second chuckle split his condescension. [You think we’re partners, too? The Colonel tell you that?]

[No.]

[He told me I just need to make sure you don’t run. I just need to make sure you do as you were told and keep you alive. One of the docs told me you’re some kind of poisoned pill.]

Niko looked down and shook his head.

Of course.

That tracks.

Nothing was ever as it seemed. Of course Aetch had been told to shoot him.

[You must be good with that rifle then.]

This time Aetch didn’t answer.

Not even a confirmation pip.

No one ever gave straight answers anymore. Simple questions rarely received simple answers, as if ambiguity itself were a sign of cleverness.

Cleverness had gotten Niko caught.

Right then, being alert was the best he could do.

Look and listen, touch and smell, he reminded himself as gunshots echoed in the distance.

Too far away to be trouble.

Niko imagined a close-range firefight. Magazines draining fast. Ricochets and flesh wounds. Casings dancing across hard cover. Reload.

As fast as it started, it was over.

A few meters gained, a few meters lost.

A body staining the coarse concrete black, maybe red.

The silence of the idle factories returned. Everything around him smelled of hot chemicals, thick smoke, and rotting garbage.

Up the ramp, he put his shoulder into the column at the first turn and pulled the scuffed-up Gutterline from its holster. It was impossible to avoid the click as it detached from the top of his thigh and the weight of its nose bent his wrist downward. Niko thumbed the safety to make sure it was still off and leaned around the corner.

There was something up ahead. He didn’t understand how he knew, but he could feel it—and not just because Aetch had told him they’d crossed beyond Tsuyomei’s perimeter.

He’d known he was going to get caught. He’d even told that toad of a bartender he’d met the night before the VKA kicked in his door.

Niko moved up to the next corner and thought he heard something around the bend.

Is that scratching? Maybe shuffling… or something being dragged.

He checked his wireless and found the signal dead on the other end. Whatever he’d heard wasn’t coming from Aetch.

He put his shoulder into the wall and moved forward slowly. The muzzle of the counterfeit SMG came up as the ligaments in his implants tensed.

His free hand reached in his front pocket and slid out a mirror.

Come on. Just be some plastic flapping over an open air duct or…  

He stared into the tiny reflection, studying it for whatever had made the sound.

No plastic.

Not even a fan.

Heart up into his throat, he kept watching.

Where are you, Aetch? If I step out from around this corner just to take a round to the dome, I’m going to be pissed.

He’d heard stories from others about situations like this. They always described them as contests of whoever can wait the longest.

First to break cover loses.

The soldiers had a phrase for it.

Niko reminded himself he was no soldier.

Then he heard the noise again.

His hand tensed around the edge of the small mirror as he tried to stop it from shaking. Every little movement was a chance he’d cause a reflection back toward a sniper, patrol, or drone turret.

He heard the scratching again and squinted at the tiny mirror.

Something was moving.

Rats.

More fucking rats.

Since they’d been dropped off, he’d spent hours staring into his mirror only to eventually find rats.

They were a problem, but not the same danger as other things he could run into. One or two. No big deal. In greater numbers, though, they became dangerous.

Niko stared into the mirror and found a pair of dark, matted shapes tugging on something behind the corner of a dumpster. He caught himself holding his breath and exhaled. It made him cough. He tried to catch it, but his cheeks couldn’t hold it in. Half choking, the sound broke the silence and the two rodents disappeared into the twitch of his mirror.

Only two.

Not his best moment. Niko gave himself a moment of grace.

It was just a matter of time…

Niko pulled the mirror in and put it away.

He looked back at the floating katakana at the base of the ramp. The light felt warm against his eyes, but he knew it was all in his head. He stepped out from the corner at a sprint, crossed the incline, and ducked behind the nearest dumpster.

The smell was foul and fermented. A bitter taste immediately coated the back of his tongue. Within a few seconds, he knew exactly what was in the dumpster—well before he looked down and saw the fingertips poking out from underneath.

He gagged.

Can’t stay here.

It was hard to breathe and harder to swallow. He was trying not to do either.

He looked back to the corner where he’d been. It was so bright there. He’d been exposed and didn’t even realize it.

[Long way to the top,] said Aetch over the wireless.

He wanted to sigh, but that meant he’d have to breathe in more of the rotten air.

[I’d like to tell you it’s definitely clear, but I’d be lying if I said I was sure.]

[You know… sometimes I wish you’d just lie to me.]

[How’s the smell over there? I can’t imagine anyone’s been around to collect since the sky came down.]

Niko clipped his gun, put it back on his leg, and looked up.

The fabrication mat was immense. Each zone blurred into the next. Cracks became landmarks. Niko envisioned the lower levels buried beneath hundreds of meters of broken factory bones.

He imagined being buried alive.

Up the ramp, there wasn’t much cover on either side. An old trash bag here and there. A pipe railing between the ramp and old walkway. He didn’t bother. He just needed to get out of the open as quickly as possible.

As he ran, he kept an eye on the upper levels flanking the ramp. Both sides were open and seemed to have plenty of space for spotters. He hated running like this. With every step, his boots crunched over the gritty ground. It would take no effort to track him.

As Niko reached what he thought was the top of the ramp, it turned tightly back onto itself. Happy to be rid of the stink of the dumpster, he took a deep breath and kept running. Near the top, he heard the burst of a rifle echo through the underground. It was close enough he could hear the snap of the muzzle.

At the top, he scanned his surroundings. All around him, burned out slipcars dotted a wide lot with a low, black ceiling. He stepped behind an old chassis, reached up, and ran a fingertip across a long soot-covered light.

[Finger of God, Aetch, this place used to look different but there’s power.]

Heat-blistered wrecks sat hunched at regular intervals with just enough space for a person to slide between them. Most of the canopies had collapsed, their liquid crystal displays having delaminated and drooped inward. Each AV had been scorched down to its ruptured battery pack.

Too bad.

[These would have made a great place to sleep.]

[The more things change, the more they stay the same. This place looks like a taxi park or maybe the end of a production line. As soon as one was lit, the fire probably spread rapidly. I’ll check if there’s a record of what this zone built. Maybe I can find you a couch in one of the line bosses’ grottos or something.]

Niko knew there was no such thing.

[Yeah, that’d be nice. If you have time, how about you scrounge up some hot food and a dropship out of here.]

[Sarcasm is beneath you, Nikolai.]

[Save it. My sarcasm is the only thing keeping me warm at night. Get up here.]

Niko dropped down on his knees next to the nearest wreck.

Another shot rang out. This time it was close.

[What do you have?] asked Niko, tight against an open door on his right.

[Voices. At least three of them. Other side of the ramp. You know you’re one lucky bastard, right?]

Niko waited patiently and listened. He couldn’t hear them.

[Looks like they’re going past us. Damn that was close. If you’d been just a minute or two slower coming up here, who knows what that would have looked like.]

Niko didn’t want to dwell on it. His dark red sleeve was lit from above, almost glowing against the scorched ground. He told himself they were long gone.

One or two scavengers.

Just passing through.

[All right. Come over here. Let’s get our bearing. I’m a few rows back from you.]

Niko agreed but took his time making his way over to find Aetch. By the time he did, his coat no longer looked red. Only the darkest seams and folds held their original color; everywhere else was soiled with dark soot.

He found the other man resting on his heels and fiddling with a protein tube. [The hell happened to you?] he asked, keeping to wireless.

Niko’s lower face was covered with a simple filter mask, but if Aetch could have seen him smiling, he would have thought his teeth looked artificially bright.

[Camouflage.]

He crouched down next to the sniper and took the tube out of his hand. A quick drop of the mask and a squeeze, his mouth filled with thick, black paste. Unflavored, it tasted exactly like the old rock it’d been processed from. Niko tried to swallow it quickly, but it stuck to his teeth as he slid his mask back up into place.

He watched Aetch take a pull of the black paste and screwed the cap back on. He was tall with dreadlocks down to the back of his shoulder blades. The heavy red overcoat suited Aetch’s frame better than Niko imagined his own suited him.

The protein tube disappeared back into the folds of Aetch’s coat. When his hand reappeared it was wrapped around a small compass, no larger than his thumbnail.

[That way’s north, which means we need to go.] He pointed southwest. [The VKA think the intelligence engine is too deep for orbital strikes to hit. We need to get you closer though. We’re still too close to the line.]

Niko had been listening to him say the same thing for days. Every time they stopped. Over there.

Back against one of the burnt aerodynes, Niko pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them.

[What do you think you’re doing?]

[I’m getting some sleep. We’ve been walking for hours, and I’m cold. Unless you’re going to start a fire, I’m done being your scout.]

He closed his wireless comms with a click.

His eyes were closed for only a brief second when the fist connected with the side of his head. His temple collided with the side of the slipcar, and black ash floated down onto his lap.

“What the hell?!” exclaimed Niko out loud.

“Shhh. Shut the fuck up, you idiot.” Aetch shoved Niko’s head back into the wreck. “You’ll get us both killed.”

Slapping his hand away, Niko pushed off with his shoulder and managed to shove Aetch back a step.

“Good.” He waved a hand in the air and then pointed at the man with the rifle. “He’s right here. Take your best shot. You can have him. I give up.”

Aetch swung the barrel of his gun up and pointed it at him.

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll—” He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence.

A burst of reports cut the threat short. Three bullets hit the slipcar next to them, two in the side. A third whizzed off the roof.

Niko ducked. His Gutterline was already in his hand as he crawled to the far end of the slipcar.

[Where the hell are they?]

Aetch had already disappeared.

[It’s that patrol. They must’ve looped back. There’s one on the left and another over there on the right, behind the halfwall overlooking the ramp.]

More bullets punched into the nearest vehicle.

[They’re flanking us, Aetch.]

Niko watched a green pip light up on his overlay.

[Where’s the third? We need to find the third?]

Niko launched himself across an opening and rolled behind another burned shell. As he did, he saw movement behind a pair of blackened barrels.

As soon as he found his feet, he leaned back and opened fire. The submachine gun kicked wildly. It took all of Niko’s strength to control it as a stream of small-caliber rounds tore through the thin old metal.

Something like the shape of a man crumpled.

[I got him. The third is down.]

[Stay with him. Make sure he doesn’t get up.]

He sent a green pip and looked back around the end of the slipcar.

There were still gunshots crisscrossing the lot. Niko wasn’t sure if the other two were shooting at Aetch or if they were trying to provide covering fire for their dead friend.

Niko checked the magazine on his SMG. Almost out, he changed it out and took a quick peek around the end of the slipcar.

He watched as a pair of legs started kicking about. One boot was shaking violently.

[He’s waking up, Aetch. What do I do?]

[You need to get up there and—] A series of nearby gunshots drowned out whatever his cochlear implant tried to pass him.

Ah hell.

Hands and knees, Niko stayed low and moved closer to the man he’d shot. He heard Aetch take several shots in quick succession, somewhere off to his left. It sounded like each shot was going to split Niko’s skull they were so loud.

Someone yelled, but he couldn’t tell which direction it came from.

Just across from the barrels, Niko watched the pair of legs disappear behind the barrels. The ground was glistening wet.

[Aetch, I can’t see him anymore. Where’d he go?] Niko felt his eyes go wide. [Aetch?]

Dammit.

Niko sprung to his feet and leaned so hard into the vehicle at his back, he felt it shift across the concrete. Off balance, his legs shifted and he looked down for a moment.

When he looked back up, the man he’d shot stood above him. Skin drained of its color. His eyes glowing digital blue. He no longer had his gun, but seemed intent on advancing on him nonetheless.

With the trigger depressed, the Gutterline emptied its magazine in less than three seconds. Niko never felt it, as his heart jumped up into his throat. The man standing over him, his body no longer thinking for itself, made no attempt to sidestep the hail of bullets. Instead, it walked directly into them.

The daphemi torso was lightly armored. At close range, nearly every bullet tore through the thin defense and corkscrewed wildly through its chest cavity.

A living man would have been dead.

The corpse unit kept moving.

It fell forward, hands reaching out, and immediately started ripping into Niko’s own clothing.

Tufts of red leather began littering the ground. Every handful, a new hole.

The corpse unit was heavier than he’d expected. The man it’d been must have worked several body contracts, years of indentured labor for upgrades.

Niko rammed his forearm across the eyes of the corpse unit, hoping to blind it.

For a second it seemed to work.

Niko swung the machine aside and raced to reload his gun.

Too late, it was already on him. He swung up with the empty gun and caught the figure in the back of its head.

The implant at the base of the brain stem buckled and the corpse unit went limp.

Niko exhaled and then kicked his heel into its shoulder.

There was fluid everywhere.

Blood.

Lubricants.

High pressure, low friction fluids meant to keep everything quiet and spinning.

Niko pushed himself back and realized someone was standing over his shoulder.

There was no way he was going to reload fast enough, so he just looked up and said the man’s name.

“Aetch.”

The butt of the rifle’s stock hit him square between the eyes.