Strong Enough 3.5

Refugee 3.5

Lucyna Kushinaga hates Arasaka.

“I told you to bring a third,” she says. “Not to bring a baby corpo.” The little boy at Scarlet’s side glares, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Scarlet turns to Lucy, eyes flashing red, and it’s all the netrunner can do not to flinch. She sits, back straight, perfect relaxed, like the teashop they’re in should be pleased it was constructed around her.

“We can do the job,” Scarlet says. “Can you?”

The hate flares a little bit brighter, like an ember lodged in Lucy’s breast.

Seeing the Storm tear through Arasaka’s manicured garden in a hurricane of steel and gore was the closest thing to a birthday present that Lucy has ever received. She’d gladly leave the three baby corpos in front of her dead and bleeding on the floor as well. Unfortunately, the Storm also trashed Lucy apartment block and sent Kiwi fleeing the city. Lucy could survive that, if her old mentor didn’t also steal her eddies.

‘Never trust anyone,’ is the last lesson that Kiwi cared to reteach, because clearly Lucy didn’t learn it well enough the first time.

Now she’s just one more netrunner picking through the ruins of a life as Arasaka clamps down on security. She has no funds, no contacts, and no rep because Kiwi was their face. All Lucy has to her own name is one hand-off gig for Wakako with a crew that got chopped in half during the Storm.

Good news, that crew is willing to work with her.

Bad news, the surviving members are all Arasaka.

The ember of Lucy’s hatred can keep her warm when the building shuts off the heat to gouge a few more ennies, but it can’t feed her. It can’t pull a crew out of thin air, much less one with high spec speedware. And that’s why Lucy hates Arasaka, because there are no other options.

Lucy crosses her arms. “Who uploads the scripts? Cause it’s not you three.”

“Wakako has other runners,” Scarlet replied. “She wants this done.”

The ‘with or without you’ hangs in the air. Lucy takes a drag of her cig and fights the urge to spit. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

“So kind of you to ask!” says the third ‘Saka snake. The redhead.

She’s not named Scarlet, because why would things make sense, and Lucy’s already written her off: soft hands, pretty chrome. If she pulled a piece it would probably chip her manicured nails. This job is Lucy and Scarlet, carrying two kiddies for no reason. She hates it.

“We have to infiltrate the Milagro Terrace Shrine.” Redhead says. “They’ve been pulling away from Wakako’s sphere of influence, and ever since the Storm, well…” She shrugs.

Lucy can fill in the rest. Slights and power plays are the normal for Night City. But these aren’t normal times. “So, we’re here to make an example.”

“Exactly.” The redhead nods. “We’ll be planting a paper tiger in the shrine’s honden, as well as uploading a few obvious listening bugs. You are going to compromise the rest of the shrine’s systems in a way they won’t detect.”

“I have the scripts loaded.” Lucy pulls her contact out of her wrist. “That’s the easy part, you still haven’t explained how we’re getting in.”

The redhead smiles and pulls a folded pantsuit out of her bag. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going on a field trip.”

“What?”

“Three students.” Redhead points to the three of them. Then her finger lands on Lucy. “And a chaperone.”

“That’s stupid. They’re closed.”

Scarlet snorts, and Lucy’s shoulders tense. The taller woman runs a hand through her dark hair as if she’s annoyed by the entire job. “They’re closed to the public. For people with money, it’s business as usual.”

That, Lucy believes. Arasaka dips their wick in every bowl of scop in Night City.

“They’ll know it was us,” she says

“There are multiple tours today,” Scarlet replies.

Lucy stares, eyes narrow.

The redhead twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “It’s amazing what people will tell you when you’re booking a venue.”

“And the cost of the tour?” Lucy asks.

“Expensed,” says Redhead.

Lucy hates Arasaka.

“Fine,” she says.

They walk through the rest of the plan. Three points to compromise. One is easy, external. Poor camera coverage. The data terminal for the ancillary systems looks a bit tricky, but Lucy knows she can manage as long as the ‘Saka cunts don’t fuck her.

According to the boy, the main computers can be accessed through the vending machines.

“You’re sure?” Lucy has seen her share of stupid flaws, but…

“Known vuln.” He shrugs. “I’ve sliced these exact machines before.”

“And they’re connected to the mainframe?”

“Datasharing.” Redhead says. “And all of the icky-squicky contract law that comes with it.”

Lucy shakes her head “Then why do we even need to go in?”

“Honey.” Redhead covers her mouth with a flare of dainty fingers. “If you think a subsidiary of Coke will be easier to roll than the Tyger Claws…”

Lucy’s brows pull into a sharp frown.

“We also have to plant the obvious threat.” Scarlet holds up an origami tiger between the two of them. “For the job.”

Lucy huffs. “Right.”

Redhead stops covering her smirk. “Glad we—”

“Behave,” says Scarlet.

Redhead behaves. Lucy quirks an eyebrow at the interplay, but she doesn’t even know how to start pulling that thread. Unraveling clients was always Kiwi’s job. Maybe that’s why she fleeced Lucy so easily.

“After you infiltrate the networks, we’ll swing by the Honden,” Scarlet says. “They don’t let people inside. But that won’t be a problem. Just disable this camera—” She points to the hologram they’re using. “And trigger the automatic door for one second. I’ll plant the calling card and the data jack without being seen. Then we walk out like nothing ever happened.”

“Exit?” Lucy asks.

“We have wheels,” Redhead replies. “Enough seats for all of us.”

Lucy pulls back from the table. “I’ll make my own way home.”

Redhead shrugs. “Fine.”

She’s mimicking Lucy’s exact tone of voice from earlier. She must be. For a moment, Lucy feels the uniquely feminine urge to rip the girl’s eyes out and drink the blood that spills after.

Scarlet’s eyes narrow on her, thin slices of red.

Lucy shivers and stares at the wall.

“Questions?” Scarlet asks.

Lucy shakes her head. She starts to stand, anything to get out of this room. Then the boy makes a noise. Lucy ignores him, so does Redhead.

Scarlet pauses half out of her chair. “What?”

“It’s…” He glances at them. Lucy makes sure he can read how unimpressed she is. He shakes his head. “Not important.”

“I’ll decide what’s important,” Scarlet says.

“…You know about the floors, right?”

Lucy blinks in surprise. “Floors?”

The kid looks at the three of them, lips slightly parted. Then he claps his hands against his cheeks. “Right. Okay. Right. Nightengale floors.” He nods once, forcing his way through whatever nervousness that was tripping him up. “Pressure sensors, real popular in this style of building because—”

Scarlet groans. “Homage to historical tradition.”

“Yeah, only souped-up circuits instead of rusty nails.” The kid laughs once. “Not sure about this shrine, but my primo tried to boost the scroll from Arroyo River Temple, thought he was cold as ice, but…”

Redhead and Scarlet share glances.

“Well?” Lucy asks.

“We don’t have a plan for the floors.” Scarlet’s lips quirk down, not quite a frown, but edging in that direction. “Can you disable them?”

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “If they’re attached to the rest of the Temple’s network.” She doesn’t need to brag. If it’s ‘Saka, she can crack it, sure as that company cracked her skull to install her dive port.

“But the honden is on a separate network…” Scarlet mutters a quiet curse. “Or it should be.”

“Or there aren’t any pressure sensors at all,” Redhead says.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Don’t think about it? What a great plan.” Redhead glares.

This time she keeps her mouth shut.

Scarlet turns to the boy. “Any ideas kid?”

He runs a hand through his gelled-up hair. Looks like he put a lot of work into it this morning, idiot. He says, “Normally, we could just skip it, like. Place is open, they’re not gonna lock it down just cause a pressured floor ticks over. People gotta clean. But with private tours, they’re gonna be more on top of cybersec.”

Scarlet says nothing, for a few seconds, then, “I can handle it.”

Redhead looks at her, worried. “Are you sure?”

“I can handle it,” she says again. “Just knowing I have to avoid the floor is enough. The plan is still a go.”

Lucy grabs the ugly Arasaka suit. She’s burning it after.  “Then get out of here so I can change.”

“Last thing!” Redhead smiles. “What are we calling you for the op?”

“Lucy,” Lucy says.

Redhead laughs. “Sure. I’m Emma!” Redhead waves a hand. “And this is David and Taylor.”

“Cool.” Lucy doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. As soon as she’s done with this gig, she’ll never have to meet with these people again.

~ * ~

The girls don’t like David much. Well, Lucy hates his guts, he’s been ‘round enough to notice. It’s fine, after this gig he’ll never see her again. What actually sucks is that Emma looks at him like she scraped him off her real pleather shoes, and not because he’s gutter trash.

The teahouse door slides open and Lucy walks out in the suit dress. David swallows. She’s fucking preem in ‘Saka formal.

He’ll never see her again, but—

David bites his cheek and keeps his eyes forward. “Focus up, choom,” he whispers. That’s why Emma hates him. She thinks he’s some dick pumping XBD addict like…like Doc. Worst part, he can’t call her out on it.

Seeing Doc’s head snap back, seeing him laid out his gutter shit ripper clinic, pants down to his ankles, made David realize that he could end up the same way. If he was lucky, he’d crash out in a low-level manager’s office, but just the thought of being laid out in some chair, neural wreath strapped over his eyes—

It made him wake the fuck up.

Scarlet—Taylor—puts a hand on David’s shoulder. “Ready?” she asks.

Scarlet is ice cold. She’d zero him faster than a blink. He’s been ‘round enough to see that too. Funny, David thinks she’s the only one who likes him even a little.

David nods. “Yeah. Job’s easy: stand there, look pretty, make distractions on cue.”

She squeezes his shoulder, and David wonders if it’s supposed to be a reassurance or a threat. Her eyes are brown. It makes her look almost human.

“Let’s go,” she says.

First part’s easy as pie. They walk up to the Shrine on the road. David screws on a smile he doesn’t feel, ‘shows off’ by racing up the hill to the walls of the shrine. Taylor sighs, Emma giggles and bats her eyes at him.

David knows better, now.

“Get back down here!” Lucy shouts.

David flips her one. “Whatever, stuff-shirt!”

He plays it up until Lucy ‘catches’ him. Overhead, he hears the cameras whirr once as they glitch. Nova. He didn’t even catch Lucy looking. “What do you think you’re doing!” She waves a hand, pulling out her network port. “Move to your fucking left.”

David moves, dresses it up. Lucy shoves him against the wall with her other hand. He freezes as she leans close, sun catching off her white hair. Her tricolor hair tip tickles his nose. His thoughts short-circ.

She stands. “Got it.” Her connector snaps back into her wrist. Then she shifts her grip. “Back on the path, or I’m writing you up.” She half pulls half shoves him back down the hill. David stumbles, not faked, almost falls by the time he gets back to the rest of his crew.

Emma leans over, batting her lashes up at him again. “Too bad you got caught, David.”

He grunts, looking away. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Taylor nod. He coughs, straightening the shoulders of his Arasaka academy blazer as Lucy falls in step behind them. The stairs stretch out above them, a winding back that leads up to the peak of Milagro Terrace. It looks nova, all bright green and clean white. Hell, he can look over his shoulder, and Night City looks almost as nice.

Everything looks better from up in the clouds.

“Heyyy!” Emma breaks out in front of them, waving to the chromed-up samurai-looking goon standing by the Torii gate in front of the Shrine’s entrance. “We’re here for our tour.”

The guy takes one glance at Emma. David knows what he sees. Girl’s got manicured nails—actual nails, not chrome. The slit in her skirt goes all the way up where her prosthetic turns back into skin, and red hair all goes in waves all the way down her back. She looks like she just stepped out of a vanilla ass BD. But David knows she’s got a gun in her purse and she pulled it one some junkie on the way to the gig.

She’s terrifying.

The guard grunts, doesn’t ‘em a second glance before his eyes land on Lucy. “Pass.”

She steps up, pulling out a small data pad that David klepped last semester. It’s got the Arasaka logo on the back and everything. The gangoon checks it, probably doesn’t even read it. “You’ve got an hour time slot. Don’t make me come find you.”

Lucy folds her arms. “Don’t waste the time we paid for, then.”

He grunts again.

They’re inside, smooth as ‘Saka.

“David, take my picture!”

He almost falls flat on his face as Emma yanks him from the path. She poses him, as Taylor pretends to check the lighting. Lucy swishes past them, obviously annoyed, and leans against the nearest building.

Emma pushes him again, moves his head. “There!” She narrows her eyes. “That’s the perfect angle!”

It’s a shitty ass angle unless she wants him to take a picture from the corner of his eye, but apparently it’s blocking the camera’s from seeing Lucy’s wrist as she jacks into a network terminal. David doesn’t move his head. He stays perfectly still as Emma and Taylor run through half a dozen poses. They look natty at it. Taylor lets Emma basically move her like a doll, only to get frustrated at the last second and do something else. Emma pouts, Taylor complains, and the process starts over.

He lets his eyes flash noticeably every time they stand still for more than a second, he’s mostly getting sky. The photos are ass in a basket, but David sees three security personal walk past them all without a second glance, and the fourth only stops them because the girls look like they’re about to move a ceremonial bonsai.

Fifteen, twenty minutes of trying to take a selfie and they’re not even breaking a sweat. David doesn’t think he could play pretend that long if someone put a gun to its head. It’s almost impressive, but he doesn’t hide the sigh of relief he feels when Lucy comes over. “Alright, enough. We’re here for a tour, not so you two can pad out your ‘SakaGram.”

“God don’t be such a stick in the mud.” Emma flounces past. She and Lucy glare at each other. David catches Taylor’s eyes.

She raises an eyebrow. He jerks his head at the other two. Her lips pull into a line, totally flat. Yeah, she ain’t pleased either.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taylor says.

“I ain’t if you ain’t,” David replies.

She looks back to him. David straightens, but she’s still taller than him by half a head. Sucks. He waits, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What?” David asks.

She walks past him. “We need to catch up.”

She leaves David blinking on the path, head twisted over his shoulder like ‘what the fuck was that’. He groans. “Thought this was gonna be more…” he doesn’t finish the thought. Cause yeah, what did he think edgerunning was gonna be like? More dead bodies in chairs. He’s not sure how okay he is with that.

Least Ma’ was pleased he got to go on some swanky ass field trip with the upper years. “Oye! Wait for me!”

They don’t wait, but they’re not walking fast either.

“Keep up,” Emma hisses through smiling teeth.

“Behave,” Taylor says again. Emma blinks, looking at her in surprise. Taylor looks over, and at this moment, she’s not just some Arasaka Academy girl. Her eyes don’t gotta change color to be red as blood. “He’s playing it preem.”

David puffs his chest out a little. Emma rolls her eyes. “And I’m not?”

“Get a drink,” Taylor tells her. “After we do the next exhibit.”

“I didn’t forget,” Emma replies. She looks away.

“You’re still thinking of your next photo op.”

Emma huffs, bumping the taller girl playfully. “Have to make up for lost time.”

Taylor loses half a step. Emma catches her without pausing, only to snap back like she’s been burned. “I—”

“Turn.” Lucy says.

Taylor walks ahead, letting her larger steps build some distance. Emma turns and glares at David like that whole thing was somehow his fault. But hey, he’s been ‘round. Mama told him what to do when a woman looks at him like that. “Ain’t my biz,” he says.

“Good.”

And if Emma stands a bit further away from Taylor at the next exhibit, that ain’t his biz neither. They all pretend to watch a short hologram about the importance of this dinky ass pre-crash building. Then Emma complains about how hot it is.

It’s always fucking hot.

In the shade of the concession kiosk, David catches Lucy’s eye as he walks up to the far left vending machine. He gets a drink, then with a flick of his wrist, pops the panel on the keypad to expose the network jack, before walking back over to the girls and offering a can of NiCola to Taylor.

She stares at it like it’s about to explode in her face. Then she takes it, cracks the can. Both of ‘em are sitting on a bench as David stands over them, pretending to stretch his neck while Lucy works the mainframe.

“I could pour this on your hair,” Taylor says. David jolts, but she’s looking at Emma. “That would get some attention.”

Emma lowers her head. “…If you want to.”

“Fucking—” Taylor shakes her head and shotguns the entire soda like its tequila.

This time, David and Emma look at each other. It’s the weirdest moment he’s had all gig. Like, hella fucking weird. Taylor just finishes the soda. She turns¸ spinning the empty can across her fingers. Then her arm flicks—two speeds too fast—and it sails through the air through the bottle wide hole in the recycling bin.

“Score.”

“Taylor—!” Emma hisses.

“Relax. We’re not on camera.” Taylor turns to David. “You’re keeping cool.”

David blinks in surprise. “I’m not even doing anything.”

Taylor hums.

“You cannot be fucking serious,” Emma says. Taylor shrugs. Emma sighs, putting her face in her hands and groaning.

“…Serious about what?” David asks.

“How’d you remember about the floors?” Taylor asks him.

David tilts his head. “It was on the history part. The entrance exam.”

“And you remembered it…?” she asks.

“Yeah?” David tilts his head. “It was in that big ask source dump they gave us.”

“I think the point of those text files was to be too much for anyone to get through in time,” Taylor says.

“Yeah, and I said fuck ‘em. Skimmed most of it.” David shrugs. “History wasn’t so bad.” That’s a lie, he ate up the history section. Even the lies they made up about Johnny Silverhand. Guy was bad to the chrome.

Taylor hums again and looks away.

With the known vulnerability, bugging the mainframe doesn’t take as long as the previous hack. Lucy still takes a kinda cringe amount of time to pick something before coming back over with a bottle of brosef.

“We’ve got bad news and worse news,” she says.

David straightens, and his foot starts tapping against the ground.

“Bad news, there are pressure sensors in the honden.” Lucy pretends to sip her bear. “Worse news, they’re air gapped. No access.”

David frowns. “But they’re an alarm?”

“Transmitters only. No receivers.”

David looks down at the ground. Frowning. Transmit only? That’s like—

“I can do it,” Scarlet says.

He ignores her, foot tapping.

“Oh, and even worse news. I can’t trigger the door remotely. It’s air gapped too.”

“Wow. They really don’t cheap out.”

“Still think we should’ve come here instead of hitting a subsidiary?”

“Well, fuck you, bitch. What good’s a runner if they can’t even run the net?”

“Stop. What other access points do we have?”

“None. It’s a honden. The windows don’t open. You can cut a hole in the roof.”

“Oh right, the roof.”

“You shut up, bitch. I’ll—”

“What brand are the transmitters?” David asks. Then he blinks, looking up to see three complete hotties who hate his guts staring at him.

“What?” Scarlet asks.

David swallows. “The—the transmitters, for the alarm, what brand are they?”

Emma turns to Lucy. “Did you manage that at least, runner?”

Lucy glares.

“That’s a no, then.” Emma crosses her arms.

Taylor sighs. David shrugs. “Easy fix.” He stands and bumps the drink from Lucy’s hand. It splatters against the stone.

She grabs his collar. “You brat!”

He looks up at her, trying desperately not to blush. “Better get another drink.”

Her eyes flutter in surprise. Then she shoves him back to the bench, right between Taylor and Emma. “Whatever.”

“Good thought,” Taylor says.

Lucy stomp back over to the same vending machine. This time she takes less time, before coming back over, new beer in hand.

“Militech,” she says. “Uz1.5”

“Huh.” David, blinks. “MiliTech…usually has receivers in all of its hardware. Because it’s military, you know. Multipurpose parts, lowest bidder. Dunno for sure about Uz1 sensors off the top, but ‘less they ripped the receivers out themselves...”

“They might still be there,” Taylor says. “Just switched off.”

The four of them share looks.

“Try sending them a signal?” Taylor asks.

“Need me to break another beer?” David asks.

“Touch me and die,” Lucy says. Her eyes track up and to the right, flashing gold and red. “I kept network access this time.” Her hands tremble psychosomatically against the fabric of her pants. “Frequency…got it. Trying to—” She pauses lips pursing. “The receivers are still there. They’re—” She pressed a hand against her face. “They’re just not listed on the network chart. Didn’t even turn them off, just set to ignore.”

“I’ve seen that more than once.” Emma laughs. “What, so that just leaves the door?”

Lucy’s not listening. “Why, though? It’s so stupid to do it that way. I didn’t even—” Lucy pauses.

Taylor looks up at her. “What?”

“Guard coming.”

They pause. Emma switches back over to chattering about the last exhibit. David takes deep breaths as she and Taylor fill the air. He tries to look bored. Lucy stands with her arms crossed, glaring down at her charges. Her bangs fall forward to shadow her eyes.

Security walks without looking at them. “No littering.”

“Don’t worry.” Lucy grabs David’s collar again. He looks up at her, face haloed by glowing right hair, iris spinning with fractal network ghosts that make her eyes seem impossibly bright. He can’t breathe. “I’ll make him clean it up.

The guy just laughs, and then he’s gone.

Lucy releases him. “So,” she says. “They didn’t switch the receivers off, because they didn’t wire them into the floor sensors.”

Taylor frowns. “Are we down again?”

Lucy shakes her head. “They wired them into the door.”

“Fucking why?” Emma asks.

“Cable management.”

David laughs. “And Wakako was worried?”

After a second, Taylor stands up, brushing off her skirt. “Guess I’m up then.”

“Sure you can handle the floors?” Lucy asks. After Taylor nods Lucy’s eyes flash. “Opening on your mark. You’ll only have a second so—”

“Just open the door,” Taylor replies.

David looks over, eyebrow cocked. Doesn’t seem like her to—

Taylor’s hair jerks to the side before settling back down against her back. She straightens it idly as Lucy and David blink at her.

“Close the door,” Taylor says. Lucy gapes. “And your mouth.”

Less than 24 hours later David receives cool eight hundred Eurodollars, wired direct.