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Edge City Chronicles 05
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 23:54:15 +0000 UTCI made my way back down onto the street, heading back to the subway station that I had used to access this part of the neighborhood. It was only slightly closer than the next closest station, another point in this city's public transit's favor, though I would still like my own vehicle. Not least of which because I could both armor a vehicle, which I had a feeling would be a good choice, and because it could carry a lot more in a car or some kind of truck. Not just goods for deliver, but I could stash plenty of weapons, and likely tech and other bits and pieces I would need or want as I grew more familiar with this world.
The rid back to Mercer was quick, though I had gone a decent way, so it was still thirty minutes before I was back in the warehouse district. I moved from the same station to where Mercer normally worked, though I used a slightly different route this time, going around two of the warehouses and coming in from the east. Voronov was the first to spot me, even before the guards on that side, once again showing that he was several cuts above the other guys Mercer was using, giving me a nod, likely acknowledging me having used a different route. I walked over and stood by Mercer, who waved me to sit down before I could start my report.
"Sit if there's nobody else already sitting," the old man grouched. "I hate strainin' my neck to look up at you damn tall kiddos."
"Right, sorry," I said, though my voice was entirely neutral.
"Delivery done? Of course it's done, you wouldn't be back otherwise," Mercer said. His tone was very mild, but it was clear there was a hidden threat in the statement.
"Proof positive," I said, sending Mercer a little document I had managed to make on the train ride. It included a brief report, a single paragraph, of the job, the picture I took, and the recent.
"Don't need all the hullaballoo for a simple deliver, but good that you're in the habit of reports," Mercer muttered. "Next job. Package for another fixer; take that big, red box on the end of the table and deliver it to Empress. I sent the coordinates, just in case you don't know where she is."
"One of you goes by the name Empress?" I asked, quirking a brow as reached over and lifted the box, grunting at the effort. Whatever was in here, it was way heavier than the part I had delivered Iron Knuckle, though the box was only about twenty percent larger.
"Lot of crazy people in this business," Mercer replied non-committally, turning his attention from me as if that was everything, clearly focused on something on his agent.
"Right. Be back later," I grunted, putting the heavy thing in my backpack, not quite straining the bag, but still taking up most of the large central section.
It was back to the train and back across the city, this time into the city center, so not quite as far. This was definitely a very corporate, or 'corpo', area, with a lot of rather tall buildings that were all on their own sections of land without anything around them. Unlike other sections of the city, there was no close-crowding or mishmash of buildings jammed together here. Not to say the place was that open, mind, but the feel and look of the place was different than other sections of the city. The area had plenty of buildings apart from the massive corpo headquarters and ancillary buildings that the major companies used, and it was one of those buildings that the address led me to.
I entered the building from the ground floor, but the directions told me to make my way into the elevator and hold the ground floor button and the top floor button at the same time. After two seconds, the elevator dinged and starting moving downwards, and it went a bit more than one floor, if my guess were correct, though the indicator just showed the ground floor, so it was rather hard to tell. After a moment, the elevator dinged again and opened into a hallway with a couple standing around making calls, their eyes with that golden glow that most people got on a call, and two people who were clearly security at the far end by a large, locked door. I moved around the people just loitering, making calls, or otherwise clogging the hallway, the tiles clicking under my shoes until I was stopped by one of the two guards, a beefy man that clearly had a lot of chrome, even if his clothes covered much of it.
"You ain't on the list, kid," he said, looking me over.
"Got a delivery from Mercer," I replied, indicating my backpack.
"One sec," he said, holding up a finger and making a call while the other guard continued watching the hallway.
"Alright, kid, make it quick," the guard said then. "You know the rules; no funny business in The Den."
I did not, in fact, 'know the rules,' but I figured it would be a bad time to point that out. As I walked through the door, I did a quick search of the net to try to get some more information on what I was walking into and what those aforementioned rules were. The first thing I found was the place was really called The Dragon's Den, apparently because the Fixer that owned and ran it was actually called The Dragon Empress, though most people called her Empress. I found a basic description of her online as well, which would be helpful in making sure I didn't hand the damn box to the wrong person, but there were all kinds of fanciful rumors I scrolled across that I dismissed. Such things included speculation that Empress was an estranged daughter from one of the three families that were said to rule over the mysterious Dao Heavy Machinery, but I dismissed such things. While Edge City wasn't the worst out there it was…kind of a dump? Not to be too mean to my new adoptive city, but there were a decent number of cities scattered across the world that were much nicer to live in, including ones with lower crime rates, higher standards of living, more entertainment, and even electrostatic fields around the city in the air that helped scrub the atmosphere and keep the air fresh. Edge City could only dream of something like that.
Then again, I thought as I surveyed the large room full of mercs and solos and a few hangers-on, there were a lot worse places to be. Especially because there were an awful lot of large corporations and merc outfits in Edge City; it was a place to get rich quick, and to die even quicker. I dismissed the thoughts, scanning the room for where I should go; the place was big, with an oval bar set in the middle of the room surrounded by a cluster of tables and large booths wrapped around the walls, including to my left along the wall the outer door was set in. There were two people working the bar currently, a short, lithe woman that moved with that easily recognizable grace of a trained killer, at least to my eye, and a man that could easily be mistaken for a bear; tall, thickly muscled, fat around the middle, and hair sticking out of every opening of his clothes really sold the impression. Without anything better to go on, I approached the bartenders first.
"Get a drink for ya?" the bear of a man asked as I got close. A quick scan showed that people were not particularly picky about alcohol and drugs, and the one law about serving minors was about certain drugs, so it didn't look like drinking would be a problem.
Shaking my head, I said, "I've got a package for Empress. Don't know where her office is?"
I made it a question at the end and the massive bear just laughed. "She don't have no office, kiddo. Sits in the closed off booth in the corner opposite the door."
He nodded his head at a booth in the back corner, right next to another door, but assumed the man meant the front door when he had said the door. I walked over to the booth, taking note of the very large man standing outside the booth blocking the entrance. The booths had partitions that could be drawn across them, fairly light and thin-looking things that still helped block out the pulsing music that was playing throughout the club; some combination of synth and grunge style that wasn't particularly to my liking. I was more a fan of hard rock and heavy metal, but it wasn't my place, and the volume wasn't obscene, so I ignored it. The big held his hand up as I got close and nodded at the bar.
"Wait," was all he said. I shrugged and walked over to the barn, sitting on one of the stools to burn time until Empress was ready to see me.
"What can I get ya?" the big bear of a man asked.
"Sorry, but I'm broke as hell right now, big guy," I replied with a shrug. "I'm literally trying to make enough to pay rent; can't afford a drink."
"Ha! I remember those days," the man said, starting to mix a drink as he talked. "Used to live in a little box they had the nerve to call an apartment down in the south side. Cost me a hundred and twenty credits a month and I was barely making a hundred and fifty from my job. Don't miss those days."
"Tell me about it," I said, watching the man place a drink in front of me.
"Easy Sipper. Low alcohol content. On the house," he said to me, giving me a nod, which I returned, before he walked off to see to some cyberpunk holding up a finger to catch a bartender's attention.
I took a sip of the drink and found it smooth with just a hint of spice on the palate, not anything amazing, but I could definitely sip a few of these with no issues. I glanced at a hovering menu above the center shelf in the middle of the bar area that had dozens of bottles of booze on it, the floating object overlaid in my vision through my chrome eyes. The Easy Sipper was priced at five creds, not that much for an alcoholic beverage, but having to actually pay for a couple of these would leave my bank account at all zeroes. I managed to finish the entire drink, watching as the time passed and observing the bar around me, before it was time for my audience, which would just be delivering a box.
The bar itself was an eclectic mix of all the fringes of society; punks, netrunners, mercs, solos, and all the random riffraff that was strong or edgy or crazy enough to earn a permanent invite. People walked around dressed in full battle rattle, or in practically nothing, and everything in between. There were netrunners wearing leotards and stretchy suits of all kinds, punks in long trench coats and baggy clothes, rockers in flashy and ripped up tees and jeans with all manner of jackets over them, and even stranger people besides. A woman wearing what I could only describe as a bikini if I were being very generous was clearly doing it to show off all the impressive chrome she had, far more machine than mortal flesh at this point. In another corner was a man about the size of an old main battle tank and made up of twice as much metal, a motley assembly of men and women sharing the booth with him dressed in all kinds of clothes and armor, with all manner of eye, hair, skin, and even teeth colors, from the standard to the bizarre. I wasn't in Kansas anymore, that's for sure.
I left the menagerie to keep swirling away, walking over to the heavy guarding the booth where Empress sat. The man wasn't as big or chromed out, at least not in an obvious way, as the walking tank and maybe one other in the bar, but I also had no reference for quality and type. For all I knew, the guy that was a walking tank was all in Tech 5 gear, and this bruiser in front of the booth was all in Tech 7, which would be a staggering difference in power. He held up a finger for just a second, and I could peer past him through the half-open partition into the booth, seeing three people inside. One of them was a man standing in a small free area to the right where there wasn't seating, though I wasn't sure if he was a guard. On the bench around the table was a woman seated next to the man, the left side of her head shaved and some kind of neon or LED lights woven into her hair pulsing between blue and green. At the back of the booth, in the corner directly behind the bodyguard, was the lady herself, a tall and thin woman with long black hair and slightly Asian features.
The bodyguard moved his finger aside right then and gave me a nod, though he still had to look up a bit to do so. I returned the gesture and stepped into the booth, catching the eye of the man leaning against the wall with his left foot flat against the wall next to his right knee and the Empress. The woman with the pulsing hair ignored me entirely, which was fine by me; my height was already making me stand out enough. For now, I just wanted to be a simple delivery boy and get a few credits in my pocket. The Empress gave me a gesture as soon as I entered.
"Package," she commanded, and I slung my backpack around, slowly, and pulled the red box out, setting it on the table. "You're rather big, but no chrome? Biomodded?"
"Nothing but my neural link and eyes," I said calmly, slinging my backpack back around to my back.
"Interesting. Bigger body doesn't always mean better, but you should get some biomods and some nanotech. You could be something," she said before casually waving her hand, a flick of the wrist dismissing me.
I nodded and turned, walking out of the booth past the bodyguard, who gave me a slight nod, and then back out through the bar. Nobody said anything, but I understood this was the sort of club where only members were welcome, and I was no longer on the list. I exited the place through the same door I had entered and down the same hall. Getting out was even easier, as I just had to ping the elevator, get in when it arrived, and press the ground floor button, no fancy tricks. Soon enough, I was back out on the street and heading for the train station to return to the warehouse district yet again.
Comments
outlaw
Nifty, thanks for the chapter!
