Niklas clutched his chest. His heart implant worked overtime as he ran down the alleyway. Water pooled on the uneven pavement, reflecting the illuminated skyline of Freeport City at night. The image shattered as his feet splashed through the puddle. Behind him, the footsteps of private security pounded the pavement. A loud crack rang out, echoing off the alley walls as a weapon fired. The air sizzled around Nikla’s head, a slug hit the wall beside him. Fear ignited his senses, sending another dose of adrenaline through his veins.
“Turn right down the next alley,” instructed the calm voice over the comms device that fed audio signals into his brain.
A homeless man staggered around the corner, careening from side to side, lost in the drug-filled illusions of his mind.
Niklas slammed into him, smashing the man against the discolored concrete wall that lined the alley. With a quick push off the surprised man, he sprinted down the passage, his legs pumping like pistons. Niklas cursed, not because of the vagabond in his way, but because he was out of time. His body, augmented to work long hours on his factory job, was dying. Poisoned by the trade he used to support his daughter.
“You’re almost there,” encouraged the voice. “There will be two doors on your left. Take the second one. I’ve uploaded your biosignature to the lock.”
Niklas quickly came upon the two doors. A dull black plastic panel, worn by time, jutted out from the wall on the right side of the second door. He placed his hand on the sensor, lungs heaving as he fought to catch his breath. A tiny embedded light above the pad turned blue, the lock disengaged. He pulled on the handle and slid inside, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, he could hear the lock activate and the muffled sounds of his pursuers wondering where he had gone.
“I can’t see anything,” whispered Niklas. He held his arms out trying to feel his way through the void.
Overhead, the lights popped as energy surged, bringing them to life. He squinted, shielding his eyes until they adjusted. How does he control everything, he thought.
The voice spoke to him, “Move through the hallway and take the hyper-lift to the fiftieth floor.”
“Shit man, you got access to this place too?” asked Niklas.
“Stay on task,” answered the voice. “Our contract is nearly complete.”
“You’re going to uphold your end of the bargain? Right, Mr. Jackal?” There was a hint of concern in Niklas’ voice. The Jackal was one of the most ruthless personas in the underground, but he paid well, money that Niklas desperately needed. He took the job, breaking into a protected facility to steal data. What it was, Niklas didn’t know.
“Deliver the data and our agreement will be fulfilled,” said the Jackal.
Niklas swallowed hard and made his way into the hallway where a ceiling light blinked above the hyper lift door. The place was abandoned, left to be tore down to make way for progress. As he approached the lift it opened automatically and he stepped inside. Instinctively, he reached to select the floor, but the instrument panel clicked on, highlighting the destination. The doors closed and the hum of the lift engines vibrated the metal frame as it ascended.
In the space between bouts of panic and terror that had been the last few hours, Niklas’ mind turned to his family. He closed his eyes, letting the brain implant render the loving eyes of his little girl. The tech induced flashback was stronger than a normal person’s memory. As he thought, his senses came alive, letting him relive the past. For Niklas, it was a memory of his daughter. He could feel her soft hands holding on to his thick calloused fingers. She had her mother’s eyes and his curiosity. His heart broke knowing she would have to grow up in the squalor of Old Town. He wanted her to have a chance; live a life with meaning.
The polite chime of the elevator woke him out of his stupor, the doors opened to the remnants of a corporate office. Chairs and desks were strewn about like remains of a dead animal. Unknown people had toiled their lives away in this room—a room left to collect dust some fifty floors above the city.
“Where am I going?” asked Niklas.
“Follow the aisle,” replied the voice. “You should see an active console display.”
“Kind of an odd place to do a data transfer.”
“Please, hurry,” urged the Jackal. “There isn’t much time.”
Niklas jogged down the row of cubicles until he spotted a faint glow. Inside the cubicle sat an older computer, trash compared to the consumer quantum computers everyone used. An old cord still connected the machine to the data-net. He knelt down and wiped away the dust that had settled over time. The screen flickered, displaying the operating system’s welcome menu. A small drive bay ejected from the side of the system.
“Place the data cube inside…” the Jackal was interrupted by the elevator doors opening.
“They’re here!” panicked Niklas.
“It will be fine. Load the data cube.”
Niklas fumbled through his pockets as the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed off the temporary walls that divided the office space. A searchlight cut through the darkness, scanning the tops of the cubicles. He retrieved the data cube from his jacket and placed it in the tray, pushing the drive closed. A transfer window popped up on the display. The voices of his pursers grew louder as they searched the premises. Niklas crouched low, sweat beading on his forehead as he waited nervously for system to send the data. Moments later the upload was complete.
“I have the data. You did well Niklas,” came the Jackal’s voice in his head.
“And your part of the deal?” whispered Niklas.
“As agreed.”
“Let me see.”
The console display flashed to a new screen: the Central Bank’s page, showing his daughter’s name and citizen number. Niklas scanned through the information, reading the sizable amount of credits moved into the account.
"It’s done,” said the Jackal. “Tomorrow morning, I will contact your child’s mother and let her know she is the benefactor of our agreement.”
Tears burned in Niklas’ eyes. He knew his time was running out. “Thank you Mr. Jackal,” he whispered.
Niklas stood up and darted out of the cubby, away from the elevators. The searchlight trained on him, illuminating his path toward the wall of windows. The world became a blur. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to think of his daughter. The action engaged his brain implant, bringing his most recent memory of her into focus.
Guns barked as he ran. His pursuers shots missed, shattering the window in front of him. Another burst hit him in the back, blowing out a chunk of his shoulder, spraying blood along his path. His body jerked, but his heart implant continued to pump, forcing him to move.
In his dream, Niklas could feel his daughter’s touch. It gave him hope for a better world. His tears cooled his face. A third barrage hit his body, tearing through him, still his heart beat, pushing him to run. Niklas leaped through the window, the humid night’s air swirling around him as he fell, his mind absorbed by the vivid dream of his daughter’s smile.
