Alex Reij, episode 2: Trains, Janes, and Aerodyne Vehicles Started by Deiru; Written by Cubic; Inspired by a Cyberpunk 2020 game, William Gibson novels, and a collection of MOD files; thank you "Yoshi, buddy, it's okay. Just sit tight." I walked over to the now quite dead addict who, moments ago, was the most immediate threat to my survival. The weapon he was holding was immense, too heavy for any normal (drug free, non cybernetic) human being to lift, let alone wield in combat. It was, essentially, a very large infantry rifle, using a 30mm shell. Thirty millimeters is a big shell for using against people. I'd seen this weapon, this exact weapon, somewhere before. But where? It was getting hard to think straight. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the Blast, or the high pitched whine and blast of hot air as the ambulance aerodyne landed. When the AV took off, though, things cleared up a bit. I pulled out my "black book" minicomp, and flipped it open. The switch in the cover clicked, and it powered up instantly. "Good evening, Alex." said the animated woman on the tiny screen. "What can I do for you today?" "Open Jane's." "There is a fifteen credit charge for accessing this service. How shall I continue?" "Transfer from personal account, copy receipt to expense report. Look up this." I pointed the minicomp at the giant rifle. "Militech model 303 thrity milimeter light anti-armor rifle. Designed for use by soldiers in light to medium combat powered armor. Muzzle velocity, classified. Range, classified. Cost per unit, negotiable. Introduced 2025. Distribution: United States, five thousand. Canada, two hundred fifty. Data for other nations was not released by Militech as of this printing." Where the hell does a junkie in Japan get an American power armor rifle? -------- The problem with being a cop in this world is that the government buys your equipment. Sure, this sounds great at first, but remember that on the taxpayer's behalf, the government tries to stretch its budget. We need particle accelerators, we get lasers. We need anti-tank rifles, we get a Gulf War vintage American machine gun. We need a platoon of military grade powered armors, and we get a handful of StrongSuits. So why do we need this kind of equipment? Hmm, seems to me that a few pages ago, I described to you a deadly struggle with some guy, probably a data entry clerk or customer service rep or something, BLASTed out of his mind. And you want to know why we need military grade hardware? I extend an invitation to any government accountant to join myself or any of my fellow officers as they face down a gang of cybed up BLAST addicts, while holding some of our "just strong/expensive enough" equipment. -------- Our first hint that a chemically enhanced person with a large rifle was rampaging the city had come only once one of the gentleman's shells had made a solid impact in our unmarked patrol aerodyne's right rear section, right up the thrust nozzle. And while I'm certainly not a bad pilot, there wasn't a hell of a lot I could do other than to make the crash survivable. The car was a wreck. Maybe some kids would play in it, pretending to chase the bad guys in the ground-based car whose trunk my aero's front end was currently occupying. My right hand was still bleeding, red streaks on light blue stained skin, all hidden from view in a jacket pocket. I guess I could have shown it to the medics, but I sure as hell wasn't going to flash my hand around when Yoshi could see it. I'd had BLAST once, and who's to know that even one small dose wouldn't have long term effects? Yoshi would be safer without knowing, able to concentrate on his job without worrying about how well I can cover his ass now that I've been high once. So I walked home. Well, I walked to the nearest train station, and rode to Ikebukuro, on Tokyo's outer loop. Home is a generic one bedroom appartment crammed into a standard shipping container and slotted in a giant rack five minutes from the train station. It's a larger, more liveable version of a capsule hotel. I definately wouldn't want to raise my family in one, assuming I was even interested in having a family. The shakes started on the train. I noticed it when I checked my watch, and couldn't hold my arm steady. Then my vision started to blur, no, it was more like a grey-out, like when a fighter pilot turns too fast for too long. And then it hit me, like the tiny hit of BLAST earlier that evening, only completely opposite. I couldn't move, my muscles burned, and breathing was getting harder each moment. This intense pain and helplessness lasted two minutes or so, then passed, mostly. It was still hard to breathe, and it felt like I'd just climbed Fuji-san solo. And my hands just wouldn't stop shaking. I staggered off the train, managed to get myself down to the street without killing myself falling. I just needed to make it home, I could sleep this off, get it out of my system... 'or not,' I thought, as I collapsed again, my body almost perfectly still, my mind immersed in agony. My eyes closed, and I felt nothing, my brain simply refusing to acknowledge that this much pain could exist. When I came to again, another train was pulling into the platform. I was lying in an alley beside the station, looking up at a woman in her mid-20's, caucasian, with long dirty blonde hair. Here was the person who had dragged me out from the street, where I would probably have been stepped on by the mass of people that couldn't care less. ======== Who is this woman? Why did she pull Alex into the alley? Hey, get your mind out of the gutter, this is serious cyberpunkish fiction! How does a straight cop get a hold of a hard drug when he really needs it? Will the kid playing in Alex's crashed AV get a cut, and will he get a tetanus shot? Jod, it's your turn!