The sun had long since set over the horizon.  The dark streets of the Wastes were illuminated only by the single headlight on the front of my bike and the occasional streetlight. The hum of my motorcycle’s engine droned on as we rode from Lyra’s house to a safe house.  Cipher had messaged me on the phone that he had made it to another safe house, this one deep into the north sector of the Wastes.  I told him that I was going to bring Lyra and that she was going to help us with our next move, and he agreed that we needed all the help we could get.  He also told me that he had gone to a Gridlink Hub and downloaded all of his necessary info onto his own personal rig in his head and encrypted it. He was going to relay the rest of the information that he hadn’t had the time to at The Hollow, and we were going to decide what to do from there.  

The tires of my motorcycle kicked up dust from the cracked, dry ground.  We passed trailer parks and scrap yards as we took the long, one lane dirt road around the wastes.  It was a much longer route to the safe house than going through the city center, but it was better to go under the cover of darkness. We had a long ride ahead of us, something close to 15 miles, so I struck up a conversation about something that had been on my mind recently.

“Hey Lyra,” I began, my voice reaching into her helmet through a comms system I had set up, “You told me that you had been saved by a bounty hunter one time.  What happened with that?”

Her voice came through the comms well and into the link in my head, similar to a phone call.

“It was a long time ago.  I was like seven or eight at the time.  One of the smaller gangs out here in the wastes, the Bonepickers, had kidnapped me while I was playing outside with my mom.  They’re a scavenger gang, so they mostly stick to stealing peoples shit in the scrapyards, but sometimes they kidnap kids or young women and sell them or their organs on the black markets on the west side.  That's how I got this scar actually too, one of them pistol whipped me in the face so hard it broke skin and cut my face open. They held me captive for a few days, but a bounty hunter came through and killed a bunch of them, rescuing me. He shot something like fourteen of them before we escaped. Ever since then, I try to help bounty hunters when they come through the wastes.”

I listened as I drove, taking in every word she spoke. It now made sense as to why she was so willing to fix me up after the Rodriguez job. There was kindness to it, sure, but she felt she had a debt to repay hunters.  

“Wow, well I’m glad someone made it to you in time.  I’ve had some run-ins with street gangs around here and some of them are just downright evil.”

Her story had brought me back to one of the old jobs I had taken on.

“I had a job once where I had to work with another hunter to take down an organ trade gang, which might genuinely be one of the most disgusting jobs I’ve ever taken. Some of those people don’t even deserve the air they waste.”

“Agreed, I hate them just as much as the ivories. It’s not impossible to survive without using others for your own gain.”

The comment stung a bit, as it reminded me that I, too, was living off the backs of others.  Granted, many of them deserved the bullet they received, but it was still not much different.  I sighed, trying to push the thought from my head.  We were getting closer to Cipher’s safehouse, so I had to be in the right headspace.

We flew down the open dirt road, taking a few turns that all looked the same.  The Wastes stretched onward for miles, all of the land being dead, dry open road.  The next closest city was 50 miles away, and most of the space in between was deserted.  There were a couple corporation military bases out in the desert, but they were dangerous to even go near, so most people avoided them like the plague. Many of the mercs that worked for the Ivories were trained and lived out there, leaving only to go on missions.

We approached a small building in the middle of the dusty road.  My gps said that it was the safe house, so I pulled up to it and we got off the bike.  I sent a message to Cipher letting him know that we were outside, and lit a cigarette while waiting.  I heard the clicking of locks and a digital beep, then the metal door clanked open, and Cipher stood in the doorway. 

“Couldn’t kick the habit, huh,” he said, approaching me and raising his hand up.

My right arm met his in the air, a crisp clap emanating from the handshake.

“Nope, my mother would kill me if she knew.”

I extracted another cigarette from the pouch and handed it to Cipher, which he took and put between his lips.  I lit it for him and he took a deep inhale, exhaling a cloud of smoke upwards into the night sky.  He walked over to Lyra and outstretched his hand. She took it and shook it firmly.

“You must be Lyra,” Cipher began, “Nice to meet you.  I’m Cipher, Badger’s informant and current outlaw.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” she replied, “I’m Lyra, street rat and mechanic.”

“Alright,” I clasped my hands together, “Let’s get inside and figure out what to do from here.”

… … …

Three mugs of coffee sat on a metal table, each of them letting out a stream of steam.  Lyra and I sat on one side of the table, and Cipher sat on the other, projecting a hologram onto the table from his left eye. The hologram was a diagram of a piece of BodyTech.

“I didn’t get to explain this due to our unwanted guests,” Cipher said, a mild irritation in his voice, “but I found some insight as to what kind of tech Rodriguez is equipped with.  It’s a full camo rig that essentially makes him invisible.  It’s a skin implant.  I don’t even know how they managed to make something like this, it defies all logic.”

“Good lord,” I said, shocked, “If they start to sell this type of thing as well as the killswitch to any military they could change the way war is fought.  They could create invisible soldiers with no hesitation on killing anyone in their path.  It wouldn’t even be a thing of following orders anymore, it’d make you a zombie!”

“Exactly,” Cipher replied, just as concerned.

Lyra looked at the empty back wall of the room, lost in thought.  I tapped her on the shoulder and she jolted, snapping to attention.

“Thoughts?” I asked.

“We need to find a way to destroy this tech.  If they start to sell this, we could have another World War on our hands.”

Cipher sighed. “Even IF we figure out where these rigs are and how to destroy them, we’d be the most wanted people in all of Santa Luz. They’d send every bounty hunter with a gun and a dream after us.”

“Agreed,” I chimed in, “but if we do nothing and they decide to sell this tech, or even worse make their own army with it, then what? What does it matter if we’re wanted?  If the worst comes to pass then there’d be an unbeatable army out there with the resources to level cities, including Santa Luz!”

Cipher sat in silence for a moment, weighing out options.  He knew I was right, but I also knew he was.  We’re only three people trying to go up against someone with an army and enough money and resources to level half of the city. The odds weren’t looking to be in our favor.

“I have some contacts who’d be willing to help,” Lyra added, “The Ivories aren't very popular out here in The Wastes.  Plenty of people I know are itching to get back at them.”

“That could come in handy,” I said, “we could use more people on our side, considering we’re planning to go up against an army.”

“Then it’s settled,” Cipher spoke with finality, “Lyra, use tomorrow to contact your people and try getting us some allies.  I’ll do the same.  Badger, I have a way for us to get some weapons, but it’ll require a lot out of you.”

“You put your ass on the line for me, I’m willing to return the favor,” I confirmed.

“Alright, let’s get to it then,” Cipher said.