Kor Part 11

Driver shifted as Kor let the words hang between them, the oath pungent as the spices smoking off a nearby wok. 

"Well?" Kor asked, pulling off the gas mask still hanging from his neck. "Was that good enough for you?"

Driver nodded. Their shoulders had straightened, pulled back and slowed from their quivering terror to a low tremor. They reached up, pulled their mask from off their head, handed it over. A new face, this time, different from before. Older, maybe, androgynous, with thin lips and sharp features.

Dark eyes peered out from beneath heavy lids as Kor adjusted the straps on the mask, fit it over his face. When the soldier slid the mask into place, it was suddenly as if the world had somehow stepped away, left for a different room so he could only hear it through thin walls and see it on the other side of smoky glass. It was there, he knew, but it was once removed.

Together, they pushed back into the crowd, merged into the stream. "Keep a look out, Driver. You can see what I can't."

"Zerks, uncle," Driver said. "I'll say if I see 'em."

As he let the crowd pull him along, Kor felt like a mansu migrating to the northern pole on helium and hydrogen slipstreams, flushed and ready for the next cycle's fight. Rather than gusts of noble gas wind to assist his metaphorical wings, there was shuffling and pushing and chatter from the crowd around as they drifted to the exit.

Driver stayed near as they could, their head above the crowd like an old fashioned periscope as they eyed the exits. Desperately, Kor wanted just this once to have Driver's extra head of height in order to see what was happening around him and maintain situational awareness. He realized though that it wouldn't matter. He didn't know what the zerks looked like, couldn't have picked them out in a crowd of civilians.

"Left and right, uncle," Driver said as they drew closer, their voice warbling like a dying song bird's in Kor's ear. They'd had to lean down to speak that way, were so close their breath tickled the soldier's inner ear. "Half dozen."

"Think they made you?" Kor asked, his voice a low growl.

"They's looking round, confused, yeah? Sky bridge's this way, then the checkpoint, then we out and away."

"Stop staring at them, just keep your eyes ahead." 

As they passed beneath the top jamb of the door, a moment of claustrophobia pressed down on Kor, one that was greater even than the crowd crushing in from all sides. They were through seconds later, being funneled down through a wide hall, where the ceiling was still close and oppressive.

"Here," Driver said, pulling Kor's shoulder, guiding him like he was a child lost in the crowd. Kor tried to trust the kid, let himself be led. "Skybridge's this way, uncle. See?"

Suddenly, they were beyond the edge of the mass of humanity and Kor saw it. Wider than a normal hall, he figured he could park two Minotaur class personal mechs side-by-side in it. Five meters, maybe, but no more. On the far side of the bridge, what appeared to be a checkpoint straddled the exit. Between, though, aged, flickering fixtures lined the ceiling to about the halfway mark, shining intermittent pools of light here and there on the floor before suddenly giving way to a bright and well lit interior the rest of the way. 

The duo walked fast, the crowd now at their back, continuing to flow to points unknown. Apparently, not many left the block.

Forty-five meters. That's all the bridge was. Kor knew, could reliably sight down a Hector class rifle at nearly twice the range. Scanners on the other side, bored uniformed guard manning it, almost as if it was a border between two nation states. The security even pepped up, snapped to attention as they approached. Clearly, they didn't get a lot of visitors.

Kor kept his eyes ahead. This was normal, no nonsense. Driver at his side, just a young friend or paramour, maybe heading home. Neither of them were fleeing the Blues.

"Kor, I have a place on this block," Driver said as they walked, the cadence and accent of their voice changed from before. "If you need a place to stay, I can give it to you. If you're good on your word, of course." A pause. "Like I think you will be."

"Couldn't have thrown that golden apple after we got over?"

"Sorry," Driver said. "Just trying to put you at ease . . . Uncle."

Kor snorted. "Thanks."

Ahead, the guards snapped into an alert stance. Hands went to the guns at their hips as their eyes fixed to some point behind the pair.

Even as the guards pepped up and auxiliary security came into view, the back of Kor's neck began to itch. Their striding legs ate up the skybridge with every step, but then another group of feet sounded behind them on the hardened floor.

"Faster, kid."

"Kor, who is it?" Driver went to turn, to check behind them, but Kor grabbed their upper arm and held them in place.

"No, just keep going." He had to hope the Blues weren't very cooperative with their neighbors. Not many religious zealots were, in his experience. "Eyes ahead, keep moving."

At the checkpoint, the auxiliary security were shouldering their rifles, sighting downrange at the approaching pair and whomever was hot on their heels. Solid black uniforms, with reflective masked helmets that showed Kor and the taller Driver approaching, and exo skeletons with modified ceramic ablative armor whining as servo motors kicked in.

But they didn't approach Kor and Driver, nor did they shout orders to hold where they were. They stayed firmly on their end of the bridge. And Kor and Driver kept walking.

A man's voice booming at their back. "Hold it! Kor Menelaunicus, we need you to come-"

The rifles stayed raised. Four of the auxiliary security guards, moving in unison as they stepped into firing positions. Too smooth, too synchronized. More robots? No, maybe linked together through a combat-AI managed mesh, their exoskeletons controlling them with perfect precision.

Driver slowed, their steps faltered for a second. Kor kept going, dragged the kid with him. "Don't quit now, almost there."

"Kor!" came another shout to their back. The sound of rounds being racked into their receivers. Large caliber. At least three rifles. "We will open fire if you do not comply."

"They won't," Kor said, even as Driver tensed. Ten meters, that was all. "Too much crossfire. Keep going. Don't stop, no matter what happens, no matter what they say."

"Kor," Driver said, their voice trembling, "are they going to-?"

"No. They'll hit security, too. Almost there, kid, almost."

They pressed on. Behind them, boots picked up speed. They were closing.

Five meters. "Kor, we will-"

"They won't, Driver. Go!" Four meters.

Three meters. A hand clapping down on Kor's shoulder from behind, surprisingly strong. "Kor, you need to come-"

Kor shoved Driver forward, towards the line of gleaming security. He grabbed the hands on his shoulder, leveraged the enemies thumb and twisted as he pulled up and away.

"My name is Laren Qivan!" Driver called as the unseen enemy yelped in pain from their wrenched wrist. "I have a residence."

Kor triggered his shock glove, sent current running up the assailant's hand and arm even as he kept moving. 

Two meters, a heavy thud as the assailant collapsed, startled calls of confusion from the other Blues behind them.

One meter. 

"Sir, Ms. Qivan-"

"-Mister, today, please."

"Of course. Welcome to Forex Estates, Mr. Menelaunicus. We trust you'll enjoy your stay."

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Continue with Part Twelve

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Previous entries:

Kor Part One

Kor Part Two

Kor Part Three

Kor Part Four

Kor Part Five

Kor Part Six

Kor Part Seven

Kor Part Eight

Kor Part Nine

Kor Part Ten

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And Chapter three is FINISHED. Next, we're moving into the bowls of Forex Estates, getting to see a different side of the world just on the other side of the tracks. We'll also be getting to see a little more about Driver aka Laren Qivan, and get to learn what their story entails, while also moving along the plot for the big heist.