Welcome to Immersion. You have reached Strata 23: Convergence.
As fate, with it's determined force and poker face, runs amok in life long plans, chance watches on, giggling in the dark. It flutters like a butterfly in human hopes and dreams, in futures yet to live and pasts filled with regret. Such chaotic splendour has cursed and captivated man since the start of time.
The criminal mind knows how to use such chaos to its full advantage.
Some things are destined. Some are designed.
But most, truth be told, are just on a collision course and badly timed.
Kairo crouched beside the *dincart, tightening the magnetic wheels. *POS, or Mother as the younger ones now exclusively called her, was bundled under salvaged chrome blankets and old satellite foil. She emitted a dull, rhythmic hum, a glow that seemed stronger now, though no diagnostics could verify it.
Suzy adjusted her nail-thrower and glared into the shadows. “She’s stirring. I can feel it.”
Daniel, perched on the cart like a backwards-fitted jockey, nodded solemnly. “She blinked at me. I swear she blinked.”
“She doesn’t have eyes, Daniel,” Kairo replied, pulling him down.
“Metaphorically, Kairo. Emotionally.”
“Emotionally she’s a motherboard in a food trolley,” Suzy muttered, “but she’s all we’ve got.”
Suzy had been the dinfant of college professors who had had no time for affection. She had devoured the knowledge of the family library to compensate and become 'seemingly' cleverer that her parents. She was thus rejected. Her patten was discontinued by Metacoms due to complaints from angry clients.
Inside *biggyhall, an old pre-war megastore gutted and reborn as tactical HQ, Kairo, having outlined the plan, prepared everyone and tried to calm any concerns.
“It's so dangerous,” piped up Baby Zaa, as his group approached the place of the the upcoming robbery.
Kairo looked her in the eye. “Everything’s dangerous now. You want to bring Mother back or not?”
Suzy raised her nail-gun like a ceremonial sword. “Dinfants move out, take your positions.”
Meanwhile, in a loading alley on the far side of the zone, Shabra picked a rusted lock with a repurposed dental probe.
Renyke stood awkwardly behind her, gun too obviously visible beneath his leather coat.
“I look like a malfunctioning guard droid,” he muttered.
“You look like an android on the brink of a moral awakening,” Shabra replied.
“I think I’m still depressed.”
“You’re allowed to be. But try not to cry during the robbery.”
The door gave way with a satisfying creak.
Inside was a forgotten warehouse, rows of crates, half-collapsed shelves, signs marked “Do Not Inventory.”
Shabra cracked her knuckles. “Daddy’s rich friends always leave the best trash.”
Unbeknownst to them, in the same building, but entering via a roof duct and lateral drainage, Team Suzy had arrived.
The Dinfants crawled through the rusted infrastructure like tech termites, scanning for energy readings and weak electromagnetic signatures. They were quieter than children should be. Quieter than code.
In Row 7D, Daniel spotted an old wooden crate marked 'Experimental Drone Components: Obsolete'.
“That’s our pile,” he whispered.
Two aisles away, Renyke stumbled over the same crate. “That symbol—Shabra, this is old fusion tech. We could mod this for navigation.”
“Nice catch, Sherlock. Keep scanning. Vault’s got to be at the rear.”
And then it happened.
A soft clunk. A footstep. A tinny exhale.
Shabra raised her pistol. Suzy raised her nail-gun.
Baby Zaa raised both hands.
The two groups faced each other over the top of a power conduit barrel.
“You again?” Shabra blinked.
“You know them?” Renyke asked, confused.
“We’ve met. Not in a warehouse.” She lowered the pistol slightly. “I take it you’re not with Shrewen?”
Suzy stepped forward, eyeing Shabra’s boots with admiration. “We’re hunting parts. For her.” She nodded toward the cart behind them. “For our Mother.”
“Your... what?”
“Our Mother,” Daniel repeated reverently. “She was found. In a waste crater. She’s waking up.”
Shabra squinted. Her brow creased just slightly.
“What’s she like?” Renyke asked.
“She’s kind,” said Suzy.
“She tells stories,” said Baby Zaa.
“She buzzes when we cry,” said Daniel. “She has data. Deep data. We don’t know her name yet.”
Renyke stared into the dark. His neural net pulsed.
Shabra tilted her head but said nothing.
“Fine,” she muttered. “You take the drive banks. We’re here for the safe.”
They worked quickly. The Dinfants cleared racks of cooling coils, deep storage chips, and shielding cloth. Shabra cracked the vault using a trick she learned from a rogue nun in Sector 9. Inside was more than loot.
Renyke pulled out something unexpected: an early-model prototype for an emotional mimicry suite.
“This... this was discontinued,” he said, rotating the chrome orb in his hand.
“Illegal now,” Shabra added. “Too sensitive. It over-bonds.”
“We’ll keep it,” Renyke said, as if he knew he shouldn’t.
Suddenly, a motion sensor pinged.
The warehouse lights stuttered.
A security droid dropped from the ceiling with a hiss.
It was armed. And it was one of Shrewen’s.
Chaos followed.
Shabra fired first, her bolt grazing the droid’s arm. It rotated 90 degrees and fired back—a plasma beam skimming over Suzy’s head.
“Scatter!” Kairo shouted.
Renyke launched an unexpected and impressive sonic burst from gun Shabra had given him, knocking the bot into a shelving unit. Sparks flew. The building trembled.
“We’re out!” Shabra yelled, grabbing the mimicry orb and vault sack.
Kairo pulled the dincart behind a crate. “Daniel, Baby Zaa—go go go!”
They met again in the alley, breathless, bruised, but alive.
“I like your style,” Shabra said to Suzy.
“I like your gun,” Suzy replied, eyeing the pistol. “Wanna trade?”
Shabra smiled. “Maybe next time.”
Renyke looked at the glowing pile in the dincart. POS pulsed, stronger now. Brighter. Hungrier.
“What’s her name again?” he asked quietly.
“We don’t know,” Kairo replied.
But Renyke did not answer. He just looked down at the motherboard... and there he felt loss.
To be continued…
Inside *biggyhall, an old pre-war megastore gutted and reborn as tactical HQ, Kairo, having outlined the plan, prepared everyone and tried to calm any concerns.
“It's so dangerous,” piped up Baby Zaa, as his group approached the place of the the upcoming robbery.
Kairo looked her in the eye. “Everything’s dangerous now. You want to bring Mother back or not?”
Suzy raised her nail-gun like a ceremonial sword. “Dinfants move out, take your positions.”
Meanwhile, in a loading alley on the far side of the zone, Shabra picked a rusted lock with a repurposed dental probe.
Renyke stood awkwardly behind her, gun too obviously visible beneath his leather coat.
“I look like a malfunctioning guard droid,” he muttered.
“You look like an android on the brink of a moral awakening,” Shabra replied.
“I think I’m still depressed.”
“You’re allowed to be. But try not to cry during the robbery.”
The door gave way with a satisfying creak.
Inside was a forgotten warehouse, rows of crates, half-collapsed shelves, signs marked “Do Not Inventory.”
Shabra cracked her knuckles. “Daddy’s rich friends always leave the best trash.”
Unbeknownst to them, in the same building, but entering via a roof duct and lateral drainage, Team Suzy had arrived.
The Dinfants crawled through the rusted infrastructure like tech termites, scanning for energy readings and weak electromagnetic signatures. They were quieter than children should be. Quieter than code.
In Row 7D, Daniel spotted an old wooden crate marked 'Experimental Drone Components: Obsolete'.
“That’s our pile,” he whispered.
Two aisles away, Renyke stumbled over the same crate. “That symbol—Shabra, this is old fusion tech. We could mod this for navigation.”
“Nice catch, Sherlock. Keep scanning. Vault’s got to be at the rear.”
And then it happened.
A soft clunk. A footstep. A tinny exhale.
Shabra raised her pistol. Suzy raised her nail-gun.
Baby Zaa raised both hands.
The two groups faced each other over the top of a power conduit barrel.
“You again?” Shabra blinked.
“You know them?” Renyke asked, confused.
“We’ve met. Not in a warehouse.” She lowered the pistol slightly. “I take it you’re not with Shrewen?”
Suzy stepped forward, eyeing Shabra’s boots with admiration. “We’re hunting parts. For her.” She nodded toward the cart behind them. “For our Mother.”
“Your... what?”
“Our Mother,” Daniel repeated reverently. “She was found. In a waste crater. She’s waking up.”
Shabra squinted. Her brow creased just slightly.
“What’s she like?” Renyke asked.
“She’s kind,” said Suzy.
“She tells stories,” said Baby Zaa.
“She buzzes when we cry,” said Daniel. “She has data. Deep data. We don’t know her name yet.”
Renyke stared into the dark. His neural net pulsed.
Shabra tilted her head but said nothing.
“Fine,” she muttered. “You take the drive banks. We’re here for the safe.”
They worked quickly. The Dinfants cleared racks of cooling coils, deep storage chips, and shielding cloth. Shabra cracked the vault using a trick she learned from a rogue nun in Sector 9. Inside was more than loot.
Renyke pulled out something unexpected: an early-model prototype for an emotional mimicry suite.
“This... this was discontinued,” he said, rotating the chrome orb in his hand.
“Illegal now,” Shabra added. “Too sensitive. It over-bonds.”
“We’ll keep it,” Renyke said, as if he knew he shouldn’t.
Suddenly, a motion sensor pinged.
The warehouse lights stuttered.
A security droid dropped from the ceiling with a hiss.
It was armed. And it was one of Shrewen’s.
Chaos followed.
Shabra fired first, her bolt grazing the droid’s arm. It rotated 90 degrees and fired back—a plasma beam skimming over Suzy’s head.
“Scatter!” Kairo shouted.
Renyke launched an unexpected and impressive sonic burst from gun Shabra had given him, knocking the bot into a shelving unit. Sparks flew. The building trembled.
“We’re out!” Shabra yelled, grabbing the mimicry orb and vault sack.
Kairo pulled the dincart behind a crate. “Daniel, Baby Zaa—go go go!”
They met again in the alley, breathless, bruised, but alive.
“I like your style,” Shabra said to Suzy.
“I like your gun,” Suzy replied, eyeing the pistol. “Wanna trade?”
Shabra smiled. “Maybe next time.”
Renyke looked at the glowing pile in the dincart. POS pulsed, stronger now. Brighter. Hungrier.
“What’s her name again?” he asked quietly.
“We don’t know,” Kairo replied.
But Renyke did not answer. He just looked down at the motherboard... and there he felt loss.
To be continued…
Next: Mother speaks. And not all her memories are kind.
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