Nevermore

  Tales was pissed. Bucket knows how pumped she can get when action is near but convincing her to abort the fourth target was like pulling teeth. He didn't think she would abort in the end. Glitch wasn't much better; he demanded to know why a danger like Nadine was allowed to exist.

  They got the three wetwear hosts punched out of their echo-suits, the charges Tales placed in the Hive took out the three Net Lords. Tales was pretty annoyed she had to figure out what to do with the three wetwear hosts that were free on her own but Bucket has other fish to fry.

  He's waiting for his ride at the Central Park zoo. In the Hype he hears the various animals squawk, roar, growl. He has no idea what exotic animals actually sound like but some of them sound like what he would hear on the farm only tweaked. And the animals smell, they definitely synth the animals smell based off pig shit. Once you've lived with a neighbor that raised pigs you never forget the smell of pig shit.

  Apparently the contact will recognize him. He sees a short, scrawny man approach, looking right at him. Something seems off about him, he exits the Hype and has another look at the man. He isn't what Bucket expects; the man looks the exact same as he does in the Hype, only he has a metal prosthetic left arm. He stops in front of him looking him over, a flip lens goes over his left eye.

  “Blake?” The man says with a cracking voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “I'm Lenny. I would offer to shake, but, yeah. Damn man, and I though I was fucked up.” He holds up his left hand, it spins in circles on his wrist as he lets out an odd chuckle.

  “Damn, is that what I'm going to get on my hand?” Bucket says. The pounding in his head feels worse at the thought.

  Lenny lets out a crazy giggle, “Nah, I have a thing about biotech, like a personal thing, yeah? Everything always on the outside. We got some bleed'n edge lined up for you, if you want. Jodi wants you taken care of, probably her guilt.”

  “What guilt?” He asks. She can't seriously feel bad over leaving.

  “Eh, I'll let her talk to you when we get back to the Barber Shop. Let's go.” He leads him along the path up to a vehicle, Lenny opens the back to the sedan. The driver turns,; a large giant of a man with the biggest handlebar mustache Buckets ever seen.

  “I'm Frankie. Damn, you're fucked up.” He says in a gruff tone, the car cabin filled with cigar smoke.

  “Yeah, not as bad as Jordan though and she's OK.” Lenny adds.

  “Why did you have to go and say that?” Frankie says to Lenny, “I swear, you just randomly run your mouth, we barely meet people and you have to go blabbing.” He puts the car in gear and they speed off.

  “Why do you have to be such a baby? Just because you haven't seen her for a few days don't take it out on me.”

  “Can you guys stop bickering? My head already feels like it's going to explode. Where are we going anyways?”

  “HQ.” Frankie turns to Lenny, “Did you blab to him about, you know.”

  “Nope.”

  “Wait, what is 'you know'?”

  He sighs. “You know Lenny , Jodi really does have a habit of fucking these things up.”

  The vehicle pulls up to a dilapidated Barber Shop, a few blocks east into the no-go zone. The no go zone is reported to have auto turrets and mines, so none of the Specters ever venture there. He gets out, walking into the shop Jodi is standing there, her eyes red.

  Bucket looks at her and blinks, “Jodi? Why are you here?”

  “I'll leave you two.” Frankie and Lenny leave.

  “I'm sorry,” she rushes over to him and starts sobbing. She goes to take his right hand then pauses, looking at it she becomes more upset. “I'm so, so sorry Blake. I am the shittiest persona alive. I...”

  “What is it?”

  She takes a deep breath, "Jen's father, Oscar's father is here now. We've been talking, we think it's time for him to meet Jennifer again.”

  “Well that's great.” he says.

  “We've also, rekindled old feelings.” She says, looking off to the side.

  He just looks at her, wondering if he misheard. “In the last 14 hours?” He says in a strained whispered tone.

  “He's been here for the last three weeks.”

  Well, not surprised. Ryan adds.

  “Shut it!” Bucket says.

  “Blake, I'm sorry. I just, it's an impossible thing to decide, I like you both.” She looks back to him. “I thought you weren't going to survive last night.”

  “Yeah, nice to know you had a backup plan for that. Fuck me, just get out of here.”

  “I...”

  “I?” He says with a mocking tone. “You what? Shit, I think you're just about the only person I've ever apologized to, I actually felt bad about Nadine, something we both know I was not in control of. You didn't make it easy either, laying on the guilt, 'oh, don't do this I don't like the way it makes me feel.' Through all that you were in contact with him?”

  “I'm sorry, he's the first man I've ever loved. I don't know if I can ever truly let that go.”

  He wants to be mad, but since Ryan's awakened all he can think of is Angela, and that seems to be seeping into how he has growing feelings for Emmy. But is it Ryan? Is it really him?

  He takes a deep breath. “Well, it's fair. I took advantage to steal your codes, you got back at me, got me to admit I was Nightfall and gathered intel. You're better at the game and I don't deserve any sympathy, well played Colonel.” He salutes her.

  She stands there in tears, “Blake, it's not like that.”

  “Yes. It clearly was, you can drop the act.” His look hardens with his new found acceptance of things—her looks crumbles. “My only question is what we all talked about, you told me everything, or was that another game?”

  “Dammit, it wasn't a game! Why can't you see it's not that simple?”

  “Because I have one eye. Wait, was what happened in my room last night all planned by you?”

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  She has a look of disgust, shock, then anger, “Oh fuck off. How could you even think I would do that to you?”

  “Just, I don't want to be around you right now.” He says.

  “I'm sorry. Lenny will take care of you. At some point we'll have to discuss the other stuff we talked about, I'm sure you understand we can't let others find out about that. I had to let them know I told you, it turns out you were already on the Collectives short list. They'll be watching you before you're contacted. Knowing what I know of you, you'll likely see them.”

  He just nods, it's all he has the energy to do right now.

  She opens the door, the little brass bell over it rings as she walks away.

  He's watching them across the cafeteria, Ryan looks so happy, she appears to be happy—until her eyes meet his and she looks away with a micro look of angst.

  He talks with Ryan in the dressing room, but it's not the same. How can he talk to him about this? Did he dream, dream he had hope, dream he could escape this hell, dream that life was other than working the farm between beatings for the next few decades?

  He has nothing, he has sold all his merger possessions, his best friend is drifting, he's lost Angela, lost hope.

  Days kind of mash together. Father hasn't been on his case so much, he's throwing himself into the farm work. Even father is surprised at how much he gets done.

  On his porch he looks down the valley, far off he can see Ryan and his father working on their tractor. What must it feel like? To have a father that's, a father? Looking around the valley it's an unseasonably mild, sunny November day. A loud pop echo's through the valley, not an unusual thing, sounds like a blown tractor tire.

  He glances back at Ryan and his father, just catching his father running into the house he can't see Ryan. He has a good look for him, his father and mother run out of the house, in the distance he hears a siren. A moment later Bucket is running with all his might towards the tractor.

  “You got a smoke or one of those cigars Frankie?” Bucket asks. He takes a cigar out of his pocket and offers him a light. Buckets already done his field purge out of the echo-suit, he also popped a few painkillers so he's feeling pretty numb.

  “Yeah, sorry kid. You've had a really rough day. If it means anything Jodi will probably fuck things up with him as well. I've known her a long time, she's great, but when it comes to men she makes all the wrong choices.” Frankie says.

  “That really doesn't help.”

  “Arrak shit happens then you die.” He looks around, the talking appears to have come from a raven sitting on a small perch, he didn't notice it before. He walks up to it, there are cybernetics in it.

  “What is the deal with the bird?”

  “Arrack, I'm a raven asshole.”

  “Well he seems fun. I'm really not in the mood for, well, living. So, why was I brought here?” Bucket says with a more gravely tone then usual.

  “Oh, you have a choice. We can get you the standard retinal rebuild and hand. Or, something more.” Frankie says.

  “Something more? Fuck, why not.”

  “Look kid, we know everything, you've been through a lot. I... well I helped Jordan, so I get it. But you need to consider everything before you decide.”

  He sighs, “Fine, let's hear it.”

  Lenny speaks, “Well the eye will function as the most advanced pair of ghostshades you'll ever seen, also it'll be wired into your nervous system, increasing the reaction time immensely. It won't increase your strength, so you'll have to be careful at first, but your reflexes will be off the charts.”

  “What's the downside?”

  “It'll be wired into your brain and nervous system. It kind of can't just be removed without the threat of serious issues.”

  “Ok, I'll go with the eye. So how about the hand?”

  “Well, basically, Edgar here will be your new hand.”

  “Arrack, nice hand asshole.” Edgar screams.

  Bucket just blankly stares at the raven.

  “I think I would rather a hook.”

  The bird lets out a chuckle.

  “You know, he's a smart raven. He agreed to let us clone him, it's actually his clone that will be your hand.” Lenny pulls out an ancient wooden box, placing it on the counter in front of Bucket. He lifts the lid. “Oh, that's Frankie's cigars.”

  “Arrack, Lenny's a moron.”

  “I should have just let you die, damn bird brain.” Lenny rummages around more, he puts a case on the counter and with a click opens the lid. Inside is a black almost shimmering arm, with flecks of metal. “You know Jordan will be pissed Frankie, you really should have let her use it a couple of years ago.”

  “She's fine.” He says with a huff.

  “It seems a bit long.”

  “Oh, yeah, we'll need to chop off the rest of your arm.” Lenny says. After a moment he smiles, him and Frankie burst into laughter.

  “No, we're pulling your leg kid. It'll shrink to size.”

  “I can see where the bird gets its attitude from. So, is it alive?”

  “Yes. It's actually Edgar's clone, he agreed to help out this way. He'll be with you. Want to try it out? It's not like the eye, you can take it on and off with no repercussions. He'll actually help the end of your arm heal. It's not new tech, they actually tried it with a human based host. That experiment ended very poorly, there is a ban on using human DNA now.” Lenny says.

  Bucket removes the bandage on his right arm, a wave of nausea floods over him as he looks at his arm, the weight feels off, it's just gone.

  “Hey bud,” Lenny says holding up his left arm, “I get it, but staring at it does ya no good.” He tentatively lowers his arm to the black arm, it reaches out to him, grasping his arm. The lingering ache is gone, it feels warm, cozy.

  Arrck, hi asshole. Edgar can be heard in his head.

  Who the fuck is this? Ryan says.

  Who's that? Edgar says.

  “Fuck me. You didn't tell me he talks as well.”

  “Well you didn't ask, kid.” Frankie says.

  Bucket just laughs, he keeps laughing to the point of tearing up. “This has to be the weirdest past 24 hours of my life. This... oh man. Ok, so will the eye go just as smooth?”

  “There is zero recovery time. But we'll need to put you under for a couple of hours.”

  The walk back from the tractor is much longer than his run there was. It's been years, maybe, maybe he's never in his life wept like he did that day, all he sees is a blur. Father is waiting for him on the porch, he wipes the tears from his face as he steps up on the porch, father is blocking the door.

  “That's what happens when you don't pay attention on the farm Blake, it's his own damn...”

  All he remembers is he started punching him, he throws his father off the porch and jumps down, beating his face. He doesn't recognize him anymore, fathers face misshapen bloody mess, but he doesn't stop.

  “Blake, stop.” His mother says, standing in the doorway with a shotgun. He slows, but then looks at her, in shock. She's pointing the gun at him. “You need to leave Blake.”

  He lets out a maniacal laugh, “I'm the problem here? You're kicking me out?” He sneers at her, he's never felt he is a part of things, but she clearly has made her choice. “You're choosing him over me? At least he has an excuse, he's not my real father, but you, you're blood. Fuck you!” He turns and marches off.

  He heads down the road with only one place to go. Eventually he makes it to Angela's place, he pounds on the door. Her father answers.

  “Blake, I really don't think... your hands.” His hands are bloodied, cut up. “Did you kill him?”

  He's oddly not shocked at the question. “No, he can no longer physically beat me.” Shaking he takes the card out of his pocket, he holds it out. “I need you to take me there, please. I have nothing here, mother kicked me out.”

  “It's late, we can go in the morning.”

  “Is that Blake?” Angela calls out. She comes running out, tears streaming down her face she puts her arms around him, “Blake hes...”

  “I know, I know.”

  Her father at first tries to keep things under control, but he can see he's comforting her. He doesn't remember even how they got there but the two of them are sitting on a couch, she's holding onto him.

  Hey Blake, things'll be OK Buddy. I'll always be here for you. He hears Ryan's voice in his head for the first time as Angela and him sit on the couch all night in each other's arms.

  He's laying there in a gown, in an operating theatre. There is one way glass up high to the right, all he sees is reflections of the room as he looks into it. The room is a sterile white, but faded, it looks tired, like an operating room from a different time.

  Things are a bit blurry but he looks down at his right arm. Trying not to stare, it's just his arm, no hand. He knows this yet his mind keeps going in circles. The bandage is off the socket of his missing eye, he can feel some mist there as they prep for the surgery. He wants to touch what isn't there. It all feels surreal to him.

  When he wakes will things be different?