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Despite the air filtration system keeping the lab supplied with plenty of germ free cool 10 degree Celsius air, Ian Vant considered it stuffy. His parents sought to protect him from the often violent nature that was the reality of Hive City by apprenticing him to the labs. Even better, guide and prepare him to take over the family business when it was time. The more Ian thought about what his future would unfold to be, the more oppressive the controlled atmosphere became. It was time to execute his plan to redirect his fate.
Even through the insulated walls he could hear the gongs signaling the shift change. He was going to miss those sounds. Not as abrasive or obnoxious as the whistles and bellows of the uncouth Orlocks or barbaric Goliaths – at least that what he’d been told. Checking his watch Ian knew it would be another seven hours before he would be missed by his parents – a luxury most juves in hive city did not share. As Ian hung up his lab coat in his locker he pulled out a small set of lenses from the pocket – the last components he needed to complete the las pistol he had been building with salvaged (stolen) parts from around the lab.
“Are you heading to the clubs Mr. Vant?” asked the security guard.
Ian glanced back over his shoulder before stopping to turn around. “No Garse, thought I’d hit the gambling dens tonight.” And with that he left his father’s workshops.
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The streets along the Van Saar gambling district were packed. It seemed that every pleasure girl and hustler knew when the factory workers received their allotments, and they were looking to get as much of it as possible. Ignoring the cat calls and sales pitches Ian ducked into his favorite hall, “The Bifrost”.
But instead of hitting his usual tables he just kept walking right out the back door. Before he stepped out into the alley he peered into the gloom, nothing. “This is it,” he thought to himself. As the door slipped shut behind him he was not sure of which direction to go when he was startled by a voice.
“Just where do you think you are going little man?”
Ian whirled around pulling his knife free of his sheath.
“If I was after your purse, or your hide, little man you’d be a pile of recyc where you are standing.” Stepping from the shadows was a man a full two meters tall, dressed in a trench coat that came within centimeters of the alley floor. It fully encompassed his stature, and Ian knew that it also concealed several weapons. “You’re late.”
“I had to finish my shift Carston,” Ian said as he slid his knife back into its sheath. “Have all the arrangements been made?”
“Well, that depends. Do you have the final installment of my money?”
“Two hundred credits, right where I said I would leave it for you.”
The man just nodded. “Right this way then Mr. Vant.”
Despite Ian going over and over the plans in his head he was still having a hard time keeping track of their progress. Alleys, tunnels, and walkways twisted and turned in never ending circles until they finally reached their destination. “Your new safe house Mr. Vant, “the bounty hunter said lifting his arm inviting Ian in. “You should be quite comfortable until you get on your own two feet.”
Looking around the two room hab it had all the luxuries that he had made great pains to outline for the man. A small kitchen and an air handler that would be the envy of the block. “Perfect. Thanks. Remember, when my father hires you to come looking for me, you’ve never heard of this place. Right?”
“Never heard of what place?” He said as he closed the door leaving Ian to his thoughts. “The money had best be where you left it little man," the bounty hunter said threough the door, "else my memory is going to go a whole lot clearer.”
“No worries about that,” Ian thought to himself. “It’s there,” he called back through the door. Why cheat the man. Besides, he needed all the head start he could get. He knew that once his father had hired the mercenary his measly five hundred credits would not be nearly enough to buy his freedom. But that would not be for at least three more shift cycles – when he would fail to report for his assigned work schedule. Only then would his father really take notice of his absence.
Completely happy with how his plans were unfolding Ian moved around the hab pulling out several small packages then proceeded to dump them on a small table. As he inventoried the pile his grin faded. The power cell was missing.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Hesitating before the Union house Ian took a deep breath. The missing power cell was a minor set back, but not enough to derail his plan. His father would not check the Union houses for at least a week. After all why would a man of privilege stoop to serve in the gangs? Even so the handful of credits paid to the pleasure house to teach him the skills to change his appearance were well spent. Altering his complexion and hair color just enough that the descriptions would not match.
As he entered into the Union house he spied his contact off to the side of throngs of gangs and potential recruits and headed straight for him. “Is everything set?”
The Union security guard looked over Ian’s shoulder as he answered. “We’re all set ‘Hauk’. The best I can do is get you into a ‘Juve trial run’ this afternoon. Do you have the rest of my money?”
Ian sifted through the leg pockets of his body suit and fished out a small money bag. “This is the last of it, fifty credits.”
“We talked about a hundred Hauk,” the guards voice began to rise.
“Look, it’s going to have to be enough. It’s all I’ve got left. And I’m gonna need your spare power cell for you las as well.”
The guard fidgeted as if he was going to back out of the deal. That would not be good because it really was the last of his money, he still needed the power cell, and he would not be able to return to his apartment. He was past the point of no return now.
Finally after a long uncomfortable pause the guard looked him in the eyes. “Alright, but if I see your face again I’m gonna run you in myself. Meet me at the back stairs in ten minutes.”
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Arriving at the stairwell the guard was there waiting for him. “The only reason I decided to proceed with this is that the only gang giving tryouts today are from “Force Delta” – and if you can make it with them, I might be able to call in a favor later.”
Now it was Ian’s turn to fidget. “Alright, do you have that power cell?”
"Force Delta" was known for their grueling juve tryouts that lasted for days. And it was not just the tryouts. Although they were never fully acknowledged by the house elders, it was commonly believed that they took on the more difficult missions below ‘The Wall’.
“Here you go. It has a full charge so it should last. Right this way my friend.” And with that the guard led Ian down the back stairwell to a door that had no lights near it. “Once this door closes you are committed. The tryouts have already begun, and once the door shuts I will not be around to let you back through. The guard hesitated a moment to see if Ian would back out and when he didn’t he pushed the door open. “Good luck to ya.”
Ian looked at the man in the eyes and stepped through the door, which immediately shut behind him. “No going back now,” he thought to himself.
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