Chapter II: Noctis-Qianjiao

Major Settlement: Noctis-QianjiaoDome: Noctis CityNeighborhood: Pembroke GardensTimestamp: 2140 Hours; 2 March AF8Hypersigil: Marcus Dela, Remade

Logging out from virtual using only the AR interface was a lot like having the wallpaper fade to black. Kept only by darkness, Marcus craned his neck back, breathed in and breathed out slow and full. His lungs were new, in fact his entire body was fresh out of the farm, so he could appreciate the clean air circulating from the ventilation shafts. The soft vibrations of the ceiling fans were a comfort.Welcome back, sir, how was your day at school? asked his muse, a polite, soft-spoken daemon named Simon.It felt like a good start to the third of the term. I wasnt as prepared as I wanted to be but at least I didnt get put on the spot, Marcus answered, tired and feeling empty.Anything for the to-do list, sir?I have a reading on Stocks and Stockholders to trudge through Wednesday. My term paper partners are asking me to start work on research, collect bibliography and arguments. The rest Ill leave for my class diary later.And dont forget, sir. You still have a midterm left for Friday. I know you hate taxation, but you just cant put this off any longer I believe.I know, I know, he sighed and licked his lips, wanting nothing but silence for a couple of minutes, Whats for dinner, Simon?Not much, sir. The makers nearly out of matblocks but we could still prepare a light meal if desired.It is not desired. Get me a cigarette: pack of Lucky Strikes please.But, sir! I thought you were quitting. Its been two weeks since your last dose and your new morph is yet unattached to any dependencies.I thought I was quitting too, Simon, but turns out Im not. Have the maker whiff up a pack. The license on those Lucky Strikes havent expired yet, right?Three days left till your next lease, sir. The cigarettes will be with you shortly.Thank you. And turn on the lights please, Im going out for dinner tonight.Will do.The lights eased on at a comfortable pace, careful not to hurt the eyes or startle. They slowly unveiled from the darkness a pristine white studio apartment with no windows or any other kind of upholstery. This was what moderate accommodations meant in Noctis: bare essentials. One coffee table, one lamp, one chair, and one bed. All of it white. And it wasnt that Marcus was obsessed with whitewash, he had no thoughts on the matter. White was simply the easiest color to superimpose on. Color, hue, and texture, when needed, had only the AR to call upon and suddenly there was wallpaper and carpeting. Even his sheets took on the pattern of spiraling fractals. Without the AR, he would practically be living in a glorified pigeonhole and that was it.Would you like me to boot up Living Space 0.01.13, sir?No, rather not spend processing on that right now.Very well, sir.Are my cigarettes ready?ETA, 13 seconds and counting.Marcus rose from his seat and approached a wall from across the room. He brought the palm of his right hand to it, saying, Authentication Key: &%$&@##(! And the wall divided. Within its niche, a maker whirred patiently. All around it, various hardware nestled elegantly in stoic stillness. Low-frequency neon bathed the entire ingress, an impressive display of power waiting violence. A pleasant ding, and his cigarettes were done.Your Lucky Strikes are now ready for you, sir.Thank you, Simon.His nicotine fix ready and waiting, he pulled out the makers receptacle and reached in. There were his Lucky Strikes, freshly minted and appropriately branded by British American Tobacco, Inc. Twenty class A filters and each one tasted just as fresh and full as the last. Marcus drooled inside his mouth a little bit and licked his lips.Alright, Simon, I have the cigarettes. Were going out now. Lock up.Will do, sir.

A mirror made its home on the entire length of the corridor wall leading from the elevators threshold and to the apartment buildings sole entrance and exit. It was a sort of shared space with the other tenants in case they wanted a last good look at themselves on their way out. On it, Marcuss reflection followed him to the iron-cast security door in perfect mimicry of his slouching gait and sullenness. In smart clothing cut to an engineers jumpsuit, he looked human.On the other side, a blank expanse of whiteness made it possible for the AR ads to entice and seduce. Marcus wasnt interested in ordering out for pizza so he averted his eyes and instead regarded himself on the mirror as he walked.He had a face only a mother could love, literally. His two week old body was engineered by Ultimates, a Nietzsche memetic variant that emerged at the turn of the last century, zealously devoted to superhuman evolution. They favored a complete redesign og the human body and mind. Marcuss morph was taller than the average transhuman and much more compact and solid, as if every curve and line was carved intimately by its makers. It was completely devoid of hair from head to toe as well with no blemishes to account for. And though the phenotype was grafted from Austronesian stock, the divergence from type was unsettling. Wider eyes, smaller nose, smaller teeth, and lengthy digits adorned the eerie humanoid. Most especially, the pronounced cranium made its distinct feature on Remades everywhere. If nosferatu were less monstrous, Marcus would look the part.The ground floor had only the lonely corridor to greet guests and to bid farewell to residents with. Marcus lit a cigerette on the landing outside and joined the passerbys. It was late, but the city had only begun to come alive. Its lifeblood intercalated on shifts and everyone was always working on something at any given time.Pembroke Gardens was no exception; a blue collar neighborhood with historical ties to the syndicates of old, it was never short of activity.Anti-sprawl laws limited local architecture to trees, hills, and low-rise duplexes so if things ever had to get complicated, they usually burrowed underground and interconnected with the subways, sewers, and catacombs. Walking about, Marcus could find facsimiles and parallels of small town South Africa and Australia.[Sir, have you any place in mind for tonights meal?] his muse asked.[Not really, Simon. I just feel like walking around for a little bit, enjoy the air.] Hed been sitting still the past three or more hours ago; he needed both a smoke and a walk. All around him, however, eye disapproved. Clean air advocates, all of them, they didnt life smokers.But, [Fuck em.]He turned a corner and down an alley in New Pretoria St. and Bowlers Blvd. The grid plans were Dutch clean down this way. Up above, the atmosphere was clean enough to allow a clear line of sight past the geodesic hexagons and into the starlit night. Even light pollution was stifled at Noctis City, building codes mandated the exclusive use of LED fixtures. Here, the red bricked walls and soft emanations reminded him of stills taken from British Columbias own Fan Tan. The place didnt have a name, just a service lane for the shops out front. He knew a few of the Guanxi here doing work for his good old firm. The occasional darknet facility was always good for bootlegs or open source product.[Might I make a suggestion, sir?][Go ahead.][Your random access feed tells me an old favorite of yours is only fifteen minutes away on foot.][And which old favorite would that be?]Simon didnt even have a chance to answer.Excuse me, sir? a voice, young and determined called for his attention, Sir? Marcus didnt recognize it so he ignored it. As he took another drag on his cigarette, the voice persiste, Excuse me, sir? Apparently, taking the short cut wasnt as solitary a comfort as he thought. The nagging followed him, becoming more and more urgent until finally, his blood ran cold. Up ahead, an Exalt in NQPD black and blues reared a concerned head right around the blind corner, fast approaching. Excuse me, sir? again, the voice.[Shit.] Marcus swore inwardly as he immediately pivoted on his way far from the local LEO. He just did not have the energy for this right now. Hed already been warned and censured by small claims. What followed was a fine bordering on extortion.As he turned to try and slip away, things came together immediately. Two men in NQPD cuts were there waiting for him. At a gesture, he stopped dead in his tracks.Sir, Im sorry, the voice had caught up with him and it was a LEO, but you cant smoke our here anymore.[Holy shit, I thought he just wanted to peddle Jesus,] and Marcus was well aware smoking in public was prohibited.Sir, I am not detaining you in anyway. Ordinance No. AF8-348 simply asks that you cooperate and dispose of your cigarette. We are also obliged to scan you for past offenses, and if any, levy the commensurate fine. I will try to make this as painless and unintrusive as possible, and only one of them talked.[Shit, shit, shit.] Marcus panicked, [Simon, trace me an exit strategy. Im not heavily armed but a quick read of my morph will raise some red flags that I just cant afford on me right now. If things escalate, I may have to kill them.][Pathfinding now...]Sir? Ego and morph registration, please.-o0Aside0o-NPC File Prime: Security Trooper

Typical security troopers are low-rez recruits assigned to military, police, or security details. They might be a generic military draftee, an inner system cop, a hypercorp hired guard, a cheap Extropian security contractor, or an autonomist mutual-aid security volunteer.

COGC00INTREFSAVSOMWILLMOX

152515151015101

INITSPDLUCTTIRDURWTDR

812044035753

MORPHExaltREPC-rep 15

SkillsGear

Beam Weapons 50, Clubs 40, Fray 40, Intimidation 40, Investigation 30, Kinesics 35, Kinetic Weapons 50, Networking: Hypercorp 20, Perception 40. Professions: Security Ops 40, Protocol 40, Unarmed Combat 40Cuffband, Prisoner Mask, Specs, Tactical Network Software, X-Ray Emitter

ARMOR11/12 Armor Clothing with Armor Vest and Light Helmet

MELEEShock Baton 40 (DV 1d10+3+shock)

RANGEDMicrowave Agonizer 50 (AP 0/-5 DV pain/2d10 Mode SS Ammo 50)

RANGEDMedium Rail Pistol 50 (AP -5 DV 2d10+4 Mode SA/BF/FA Ammo 12 with Safety System and Smartlink)

-o0Battle Stats0o-SUBJECTSINIT

Marcus Dela8

Officer Takeda8

Officer Woo8

Officer Ludovicus8

Roll for InitiativeRollINITResultOrder of Resolution

88161st

88161st

88161st

1892nd

There was a distinct disadvantage of inferior numbers, firepower, and range afflicting Marcuss chances. As far as the universe was concerned, he was now at an impassable juncture of his life. The consequences treated everything now as if it were in combat. Every second of every moment was broken down and tracked, hanging at the balance of every decision.The two officers before him, their nameplates clear on their uniforms, would resolve their actions in unison with Marcuss own. These two were only five meters away from him and spread evenly to prevent escape. The third officer would resolve last and was much too far to slip past easily. At thirty-six meters and closing, the last LEO still had a window of nine seconds to respond to anything Marcus might attempt.The element of surprise just wasnt in his favor.The cigarette remained lit in Marcuss lips. He looked from Woo to Takeda and realized he may have already given himself away. A Remade sleeve was designed for poker faces and intimidation, but reading it wasnt impossible. Seeing their faces: 45, even if behind the cover of government issue specs, he found opportunity: 4. No, they hadnt yet noticed what he was planning. Gladly, he turned and ran: expending one quick action.He failed to take them by surprise: 27, and he heard their boots stomp the ground, giving chase, Hey, hold it! It took three seconds for the other guy to piece together what was going on. In that time, Marcus spent another quick action to activate his implant, [Simon, Smack my bitch up--Prodigy. Get my blood pumping.] It was an ancient track, but it got the job done. Basic neurachem flooded through Marcuss veins, increasing his SPD by 1 and solidifying his virility to erection. A wave of shivering satisfaction rushed through him. What originally was four action phases now split into five; two of which were his, further dividing movement rates down to four meters at every ebb and flow of the moment.[Simon, what were they packing?] another quick action spent on a detailed perception test to compensate for chaos, but it wouldnt fly: 58. Concentration wavered. In the soft glow of the LEDs, he couldnt determine exactly what the LEOs had: 97 for issue, recalling past brushes with the law. The NQPD was a varied and highly trained outfit. Trying to remember: 79 if non-lethal apprehension was a current operational policy gave him nothing.[Fuck.]