No Rest 4 Wicked Botniks Chapter 13
Isaac Shinseki #6: Marching Orders
CHAPTER 13
Isaac Shinseki #6:
Marching Orders
“Ike, Bobby claims to owe 45,000 Stars to a Mr. Harry Hoyle. But the Russians are about to move!” Cassie was practically squealing.
Isaac knew it now. Cassie wasn’t going rogue. She was his faithful AI copilot, pointing out his stupid blind-spots, e.g. the head of the Russian mob in NV City, and now another of the Big Six was involved.
“Cassie!” Isaac shouted back. He was running on impulse, and the fight-or-flight instinct switched over firmly to Fight, probably just to screw with him, like the rest of the night. “Ok, I need two things!” he said. “Slice directly into that botnik outside the bar through our backdoor, that Stryker unit I modded. Send it in to deal with the Russians. Kill whoever you see fit, but try to maim and disarm rather than murder. The second thing is this: I need Lola on screen two, audio and video. Patch me over to her comms.”
“On it!” Cassie was on fire tonight. She was doing everything he asked and more. What he saw as off behavior was just savvy predictive analysis and lightning-quick execution. She might have been quirky, but it was all the quirks he had built into her. She was smarter than him and faster, but only because he had created her that way. He loved her and he wanted her to stay exactly how she was, no edits needed.
As promised by his copilot, Lola Harper appeared on screen two. She must have been up all night like him, because she still had her makeup on. He put aside his feelings for her, along with his observations about her raven-black hair, her gold hoop earrings, her plump, pursed lips, her bright blue eyes, and the deep eyeshadow beneath. He needed a colleague tonight, not a potential girlfriend. He needed another slicer, one who lived in Hoyleside, and Lola was the best.
“Howdy, Mr. Shinseki,” Lola Harper purred. She had stolen his real full name from one of the nets, just like he had stolen hers. It was a level of intimacy not shared among most slicers.
“There’s no time for pleasantries, Lola,” Isaac returned. “I need you to slice your way into a conversation with Mr. Hoyle, and then patch me over.”
“Well if there’s no time for pleasantries, Isaac,” Lola paused, “there’s no time for anything. Especially not a double death sentence.”
Isaac scratched at his cheek and under his eyes.
Lola continued, “We may know each other a bit, but I don’t know you enough to want to get into a conversation with a frontman of the Big Six, let alone the one who runs my side of town. I bet you feel nice and comfy asking it in your quarter, off in the Downtown district. What are you going to do in return?”
“Anything, Lola,” said Isaac. “Anything. Whatever you want. It’s a matter of life and death already, for me and for someone else. Vitsin the Butcher’s involved, and I need the Professor to calm him down. Only the Professor can swing it.”
“This is asking a lot,” she said.
“I know,” admitted Isaac.
“More than anyone has ever asked me, ever.”
“I know.”
“Just logistically, it’s a nightmare.”
“I know,” he repeated. “Please. Please...”
“Well… if it’s saving your hide… And I get a free favor later… OK, I’m in. Me and BlueBoy will get cracking on it, and I’ll let you know when it’s done.” BlueBoy was Lola’s custom AI navigator, her Cassie.
Ike broke out a rare grin. “Thanks, Lola! Thank you so much, Harper! You truly are a console cowgirl.”
“Don’t I know it.” And her Vidmeet window switched off.
Isaac looked back at monitor one and blanched. The sight was disgusting.
Isaac’s head was pounding, his eyes paining him now from lack of sleep.
“I’m sick of the carnage,” he told Cassie. “Show me the limo on screen one.” Vitsin’s vehicle had moved down the street a bit as soon as the firefight started, but the back of it was still visible.
He was still there. Good. Isaac needed that call with Harry Hoyle to sweep up the rest of this mess, but the worst of it looked over now. Unless Vitsin orders the Russians waiting at the back to move in through the front…
Lola’s Vidmeet window appeared again on his second monitor.
“Howdy, Isaac,” she said, grinning mischievously.
“Did you do it already?”
“Oh, we did it alright. You owe me a few drinks, at least.”
“When this is all over, the sake is on me.”
“Gross,” she said. “Scotch or bust.”
“Roger that. Put me through to the Professor.”
“Will do,” she said, with another luscious grin.
And in Lola’s place appeared a new window, with a slightly rumpled older gentleman sitting in an expensive-looking leather chair in what looked like a library. Harry Bernard Hoyle was still in his silk pajamas. The Professor must have been woken up by Lola’s call.
Here goes nothing, thought Isaac. Actually, here goes everything.
END OF CHAPTER 13
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