Benjamin Wray - Acid Reign - Genesis

Inside, a masked Nucrean Elite leaned casually against a cement wall, while another Elite stood facing outward, gun ready, and guarded the only door in the room. Two small work lights, hanging from the ceiling, cast shadows and illuminated the dust that saturated the air.

A Runner stared at the symbols littering the bone pendant that hung from Kurth’s neck. He wasn’t tied down, but the young scavenger was motionless in his chair. Kurth had that effect on people, especially when they were being questioned. The man was dirty and carried a stench of poor hygiene and treason.

“Where does the information for each contract come from?” Kurth asked, staring closely at the man.

“The bosses put the contract information out and decide who runs it, or they just issue an open contract.”

Kurth closed his eyes and suppressed growing irritation, knowing his questions needed to be more specific.

“I am aware of how your process works. Where do the Market Bosses get their information?”

“Don’t know that.”

“So you have no idea? You simply just go out there and bring back whatever it is the ‘bosses’ ask for.”

“Well, sometimes what’s in the contract ain’t there, but if you bring back something useful you get paid. Look. I ain’t supposed to be talking to you at all about what we do. I just heard you were paying for information about runners.”

“Forgive me for straying,” Kurth said, barely holding back his disgust. Kurth set a holodisk on the table, activated an area grid, and zoomed in. “Does this area look like a recent contract location?”

The runner leaned forward, squinting as he looked over the map, then sat back.

“Yeah we have our own maps though,” he said realizing he should have left that information out.

“Who took the contract?”

With that question, the runner became uneasy. He knew the area on the map was too far out for most runners and that there were only a few that would have taken that contract. Five thousand credits was enough to forget about being a traitor in general, but talking about Ripp or Tooth was different. In any normal situation, this would be where the line was drawn and you would shut your mouth regardless of any consequences.

“When do I get paid?”

“Well, I am paying for information. So whenever you actually give me information.” Kurth’s irritation was becoming more obvious.

“Alright.”

The Runner, sweating now, slowly pulled out his own holodisk and activated it. The maps were similar, but there was much more information on the Runner’s map. His display included temperatures, wind readings, elevation, and radiation levels. The display also labeled areas as blocked or green. These colors and areas all showed contracts and which ones were open, who was assigned to each, who was in the area and who wasn’t yet. It also showed Runners who were traveling to or from the markers. Kurth was rarely impressed, but he wanted that holodisk.

The Runner scrolled past blacked-out areas, and, comparing the map that Kurth had with his own, located the same area. He entered a command and Ripp’s name came up with information about the area.

“That’s who you’re looking for,” he said as if he had just confessed to killing his own mother.

Kurth zoomed in on the contract and Ripp’s profile came up. “Who is Ripp?”

“You don’t know much, do you?”

The Runner foolishly snickered at Kurth’s ignorance, and then caught himself as he saw the malice growing in Kurth’s expression.

“What I mean is, you don’t know much about Nun and his pet and the world out there, that’s what I meant. No disrespect.” He knew that he might have crossed a line he couldn’t uncross with Kurth.

Kurth stared at the man. “Pretty arrogant for someone surrounded by guns. I respect that. You’re right though, my world is different and I don’t know much about yours. Here in this room is my world though, and this is the only one that matters right now.”

“Ripp,” the Runner blurted out attempting to change the feeling of the room.

“Nun gave the contract to Ripp. He was there alone. He is the only one that will go out that far. He’s Nun’s pet. That’s who you are looking for. That’s who Ripp is, and judging by your interest he must have done something pretty bad.”

“Show me where his next contract is.”

“Can’t see it until it’s been issued. Never takes long though. Usually has a new one every couple of days. I gave you what you needed, Sir.” The Runner looked around the room. “That’s all I can tell you, can I be paid now?”

Kurth walked over to him and put his arm around his nervous shoulders. “I think so. You’ve been very helpful.”

Kurth stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

“Sim?”

“Sir?” Sim acknowledged with a smile.

“Please pay the man.”

“Th…thank you sir. Thank you,” the runner said with a huge sigh of relief.

The Runner turned back to the table remembering to grab his holodisk.

The gunshot shook the small room. Blood and brain matter painted the table and the wall as the Runner’s body hit the ground.

Kurth holstered his pistol and wiggled a finger in his ear as he squinted, trying to stop the ringing. As he reached for the Runner’s holodisk the display started to short and the device self-destructed.

He looked at the body and then at the fried holodisk and laughed as he realized that the self-destruction was triggered with the end of the Runner’s vitals.

“Well, shit, that was clever.”

Kurth blew out a sigh.

“This Ripp is our guy. I want the right team on him now. Have them follow him out on his next job. Make it look like he was overtaken by Fringers or something believable, and if it’s far enough outside the city, I don’t care how it happens.”

“Sir!”

Kurth and his team walked out of the abandoned building and into a broken street that lead towards Nucrea. The West Market was darker than ever.

Tooth’s shanty was a landfill in its own right. Weapons, working and not, piles of junk and items he had brought back from the Fringe were piled in every corner. The floor was covered with pieces of electronics and machinery leaving a maze of narrow walkways around the rooms.

Tear’s ran down Puck’s face, reflecting light from the red Freetown sign that blinked just outside the window. He looked at the white glow of Nucrea, wishing he were there, but that was there. The crack of a belt, followed by excruciating pain along his back, was Puck’s world right now.

The silhouette of a livid, frothing Tooth pulled the belt back and brought it down again on his son.

“You thure it wath Ripp’th Lilly?”

Puck reluctantly nodded that it was Lilly. He braced, expecting the next lash, but nothing came. He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed just as the belt flew through the air.

Just after the Fissure, the original wall, built by the first survivors from scrap metal and anything close by, barely enclosed a single block. Now a thirty-foot wall of metal and cement secured twenty square miles of Nucrea. Although miniature in comparison, securing that original five hundred by three hundred foot area was the costliest construction project in the history of man.