Hola, playful punks!
This is another story that my AI writing partner has helped me workshop. I hope you like it!
Unlike my other tales that are usually set in the modern day, this one takes place in a futuristic cyberpunk setting. It's also a bit longer and more involved. A little variety is nice, I hope.
I could make this into a series or leave it as a one-off, depending on your interest or lack thereof. Let me know in the comments.
Cheers!
~DB
All characters involved are 18+ in age.
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You are Crypto, a cyborg living in the futuristic city of Zail. You have a bionic arm and a holoband. You're walking down the dark city streets while neon lights flash brightly above you.
As you pass an alley, you see a creature covered by a torn and tattered blanket. A rodent-like head with large teeth and a long tongue peeks out from under the blanket.
"You there!" the creature says.
"Yeah?" you respond.
"Give me something to eat," the creature says as it starts to whine.
You say, "Fuck off! I ain't no charity."
"Come on man, I'm hungry. Please?" the creature begs.
"How do I know you aren't going to try to eat me if I help you out?" you respond.
"I won't. I promise."
"I don't know you, and I don't trust you. If you try anything, I'll..."
"Wait... You're Crypto? The cyborg with the bionic arm? Holy crap... you're really old too! I've seen you in movies and stuff when I was little. You must be like twenty years older than me!" they exclaim.
You ask incredulously, "What of it?"
"Nothing. But you're old." The creature attempts to stay serious, but it soon starts to smile. "Anyway, my name's Teckleville."
You contemplate, "Why are you out here like this? What happened to you?"
"A monster attacked me while I was out collecting berries," Teckleville explains.
"A monster? What kind of monster?"
"I dunno, it had big claws and teeth and looked scary. But I'm not scared!" they gesture.
You ask, "Do you have any useful skills?"
"I can whistle really well," Teckleville says after thinking for a moment.
"That's not very useful," you say.
"I can also catch wild animals and keep them as pets."
You sigh, "Alright, look. Go down a few block to 8th street. There's a pet shop on the corner. Tell the owner I sent you there for a job. He'll hook you up."
"Alright. I'll go now, thank you very much!" Teckleville leaves without another word.
You watch him leave, before turning around and leaving the alley yourself. You shake your head and walk toward your original destination.
You arrive a few minutes after the time you had planned, which means the coffee shop should be closing down. As you walk through the door, you see the old man behind the counter cleaning a glass.
You greet him, saying "Benny! Sorry I'm late, bud. Damn street rats bummed me for food again. You know how it is."
The old man, who most know as Benjamin, turns around and grins.
"Ah, I KNEW there was something different about you today!" he says.
"What's that? Having a sense of smell?" you say, making a snorting sound.
"Ha ha! No, I mean it. You were so charming today, offering me a drink and chatting with me. You're usually much colder than that."
You frown and nod your head. "Alright, I'll take that as a compliment. So, how's the coffee?"
"It's good. But I'm not here for the coffee. I have a business proposition for you."
"Oh? Go on," you say with a raised eyebrow.
"I'd like to open up a new coffee shop here. The difference is, I actually plan to do something with the place. I want you to run it for me."
You laugh. "The day you ever do something with your business is the day we solve world hunger, bud. Haha!"
"Alright, Alright. I'll make it up to you. Anyway, I need some staff. I need someone to help run the place, inventory, make drinks..."
"I'd be happy to help," you say, "But I was thinking I could be a runner instead. I could put this fancy arm to use."
"Yes! I suppose that would work. You'd be fantastic at running. I'll have you know I'm in the middle of hiring someone for that too."
"Already? Oh, well I can start right away. Where do I sign?"
Benjamin hands you a paper and pen, and you sign your name as a regular employee.
"Alright, sounds good to me. Is there anything I need to get?"
Benjamin nods.
"Yes, actually. You need a uniform. Something nice and professional looking, for the customers to see you're part of the shop."
You nod back. "I got connections with a good tailor on 6th avenue. Send her your design for it and I'll pick it up in a couple days."
Benjamin gives a thumbs up in approval and takes his leave.
Soon after, you hear a lot of yelling from the basement. You can't make out what's being said, but a lot of the words sound angry. Boring, angry.
The door to the basement opens and closed and you hear the familiar stomping of heavy boots.
A man in a uniform appears. It's not what you would consider 'nice' but it's very professional and clearly following Benjamin's instructions.
You look at him questioningly. "Is there a problem?"
The man, who is much shorter than you, nearly shouts in your face. "This is an outrage! I'm being made into some lowly running boy as some sort of joke!"
You look at his uniform and notice it's even more restrictive than the one you've seen the other guards were wearing.
You say, "If you're gonna throw a tantrum like that, I can see why."
He takes a deep breath as if in thought to begin his explanation. "My name is Kit, by the way. Kit Marlowe."
"Nice to meet you, Kit," you say, extending your hand.
He shakes his head, but not in anger. More confusion. "I don't understand... I'm way more muscular than you."
"Yeah, but you're shorter too," you say.
"How is that possible? I should be taller than everyone!"
You roll your eyes. "And I should have a normal arm. We all got a bit of bad luck."
"Really? I thought it was a one-off event. In any case, you'd have to be shorter than 5'0" to have a chance to beat me, anyway."
You decide to change the topic.
You ask him, "Do you work for Ben or something?"
"No, I'm just helping out with the recruitment drive. Heh, my dad used to be a guard here, you know."
You reply, "Well if you're yelling, you're only pushing potential employers away. Go home and get some sleep."
"Yeah, yeah, I know how it is. I'm just a little... enthusiastic about this job," Kit says, calming down.
You nod. "No worries. Tomorrow is a new day."
"Yeah...," Kit says, sighing.
You think you hear someone yell up the stairs. Kit looks up suddenly. "What was that?"
"I dunno, but there is someone yelling up the stairs." You say, "Go home. I'll check it out."
"Alright, see you tomorrow!" Kit says as he leaves.
You watch him go, then turn around and walk up the stairs. You raise your bionic arm and shift it into its weapon mode. Then, you knock on the metal door.
A voice from inside answers. "Who is it?"
"Um... it's me."
"Crypto? What do you want?" you hear Ben nervously ask from the other side of the door.
You say, "I heard yelling. Do you need help?"
Ben cracks open the door a little and sticks his head out. "Nah, I got it. Thanks."
You raise your eyebrow. "You sure? Sounded serious."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks again."
You hear a gunshot and Ben scream in pain. He slams the door shut as blood pours out of his chest.
You kick the door open again though, aiming your gun arm in the direction of the shot. You find Ben off to the side, hunched over and holding his arm over the wound. He looks up at you weakly.
"I... I saw the Kherty gang fighting! They took off over there across the street, I think!"
You run over to the window and look out for whoever shot Ben, but can't see anyone.
You look back at him and shrug helplessly. "Call for a medibot, old man. If you die on me, it better be of old age, and not a bullet."
He nods, and makes the sign of the cross. Then he hits the emergency button on the wall above him.
After a few moments, a medibot arrives. You tell him what happened, and he applies a tourniquet and takes Ben away.
You examine the bullet that lodged in the wall. It's from a greased slug, which means it was probably a hired gun.
"Fuck! Someone really hates Ben's coffee! Haha! Bastard got on the nerves of somebody serious. I'll look around for clues."
You start walking around the building, looking for any evidence that might lead to the shooter. You find a pile of bloodstains laying near Ben's bedroom door. Looks like they came out of his room. The shooter, perhaps?
You shift your arm into scanner mode to analyze the blood. "Alii, what do you make of this?" you ask your arm's AI.
"These blood traces are twenty-two percent human, seventy-six percent elven, and two percent undetermined genetics, though most likely mutated. I can't tell you more without a full autopsy," she responds in her usual monotone voice.
"Any idea what that other stuff is?"
"It's probably some alien, plant or animal life. We don't have enough information to be specific. Assuming this is from a would-be assassin, illicit and definitely illegal bio-engineering is most assuredly involved."
You shrug and sigh, then head back to the front desk.
"Alii, scan the medicenter infosphere. Find out where the medibot took Ben," you command.
"Scanning..."
You wait while the AI scans through the medibot's database.
"Okay, found it. Chaplin Hill Hospital, room 717," Alii replies.
"Thanks. Let me see it. Put the map up on my HUD."
You head to that location to talk to Ben. When you arrive, you find a lone chair and take a seat. Ben looks at you for a second, his eyes darting to your arm before looking away.
You say, "Ok bud. You got a hit man on your ass. Lucky for you, he's a shit shot. Or maybe me being there spooked him. Who did you piss off?"
Ben goes quiet.
"Ben? You ok?"
"Y-yeah...," Ben answers, shakily.
"Drug deal? Prostitute? What? You don't like working with prostitutes?"
Ben's face is as white as a sheets. He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "No, no... it's just. You're not going to like this. But... I killed her."
You look at Ben in surprise. "Who?"
"M-my girlfriend, Tanya."
"For the drugs?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"No... I mean... well, yes but..." Ben gets exasperated at you, it seems. "Look, I'm r-racing to California, starting a new life... I'm not going t-to prison for killing Tanya, too!"
You sigh, "Prison is the least of your problems. Someone hired a punk to kill you at your home. I get the feeling you know who would miss Tanya that much."
Ben goes quiet.
"Well, out with it."
