Turks was one of the few places that still sold real beef, you could tell it was because of the smell of the fat that dripped from the pita bread whenever you took a bite. The huge frozen carcass they cut their product also helped. But it also was a bit expensive, unlike the rest of the giant rat and algae fed crab meat that most of the masses paid only a few creds to eat. Beef was up in the hundreds even for a small bite, not that Sol and Leyl couldn’t afford it anyway. Despite the Base Level’s status as a low income district, people still came to Turk’s regularly. Cheap rent helped them save more perhaps. The restaurant was also situated at the second deck, atop an elevated platform some Ten stories from the mirings just below them.<
Sol and Leyland park the Impala at an empty spot at a convenience store just behind the Tea shop. There was a good amount of Priv Sec drones and the car’s security systems could get them out of a tight spot anytime, that was mostly hopeful thinking. A desperate junkie or some bored hacker could breach most security systems.By this time, the rain had cleared up, what was left was just the eerie reddish glow of the base level’s lighting and the faint rays of the dome’s artificial sun. The two went through an alley that cut to the other side, the Triads gave the two a nervous look as they walked towards the Tea shop. Given that they were wearing bulletproof jacke
Bystanders scattered, the Tea Shop customers hurriedly sipped up and left. A burly man who seemed to be a 14K Red Pole, a lieutenant, walked passed Sol and Leyland who had grabbed some cover behind one of the building posts. He was heavily built and wore a reddish jacket that bristled with a low emitter energy field. He walks up to one of the Cohens, his arms outstretched, asking his guests to put down their weapons. The Red Pole's tone was calm, no intimidation was laced in his words. The Cohen leader seemed to be calming down as well, his gun lowered as he spoke with the Red Pole. It was hard to hear exactl
“Arbiter H-6, there is an airship two clicks from your grid on an unauthorized flight path. Be advised, it is not responding to our hails.” “Copy that control, on my way to assess the aircraft.” H-6 was hovering above one of the Spire decks of his Grid, just above the sector where The Culinary sat. Not a sign of the past few day’s crime was present, students
Their visors could check the faint traces of more bodies at the next room, stacking up they begin their breach. Frank goes in first, his shield primed while H-6 and his right shoulder gun peaked just out of cover. The area they entered was a balcony that overlooked what appeared to be a processing floor. A myriad of cylinders and distillation equipment dotted a long line of tables, and an unknown substance seemed to be the product evident by what appeared to be a packing machine that was continually releasing sealed bottles filled with a strange purple liquid.
That was all the Engineer had disclosed, that was all he could remember. The rest of his days were marked by unending labor sequences and frequent beatings. It was a damned miracle he could even stay sober at this point. “What’s going to happen to us now?” The man asked, his face barely containing enough muscles to strain any concern on his face. H-6 wasn’t listening, he was deep in thought. Pondering what all of this meant, a spiredeck torn down by gang violence and the departure of an employer. This had records. He had to get to the bottom of it.
“Room 19 Euro-African fusion” the signboard stood out against the rest, a mixture of colors meant perhaps to represent the goal of the classroom. The smells that came out was a mix of spices that seemed fit for the respective class that was soon ending. The door swung open and out marched the city’s culinary future. With their aprons folded and their equipment in tow. H-6 spotted the Tiago-Villalobos amidst the sea of white and black. “Ronaldo Tiago-Villalobos” he called, the students halted and turned at the armored man behind them. Sheepishly, one raised his. “Ye-s Arbiter?” Ronaldo stammered as he approached H-6. “Citizen, do you need to be somewhere?”
“Iha, you ok?” Leyland’s words didn’t register into Sol’s brain till some five seconds had passed, Her processes had effectively turned into mush and her vision was reading the overbearing weight of reality. It was as if she couldn’t comprehend the world outside of a dream, or for a more accurate description. She felt like she was still in a dream. “I don’t think so” She mumbled, before wolfing down the plate of meat and rice in front of her. The dish was called tapsilog, like most things in the Pacific Capital. It was a remnant of the long dead Philippine nation. The term was a combina
“We’re close” Leyland said, looking at the car’s map on the HUD. “You just memorized it? The guide isn’t talking.” Sol asked, “Yeah, that’s how dark net meet ups go. You know the Court keeps a track of these things don’t you?”Sol’s memory shifts a decade back, to her University days. One of her friends was a Court Orphan. Based on how smart he was, the guy was on track to become an Arbiter. Given the dread silence she received from him. It was safe to say he probably was. “