Eggs in a Basket #cyberpunk

Welcome to the 17th installment to The Nothing’s Child. The world is nothing like we know anymore. Or something…

If you are new to how the links work, each section shows all the links for the specific section. Otherwise there is a link for the start of each section. It is easy to catch up to where we are now.

Section 1
The Nothing’s Child
Section 2
Life is a Dumpster Dive
Section 3
Bleuthor Encryption
Section 4
Behind the Bookcase
Section 5
Interrogation with no Egg to Stand On
Section 6
Mental Warfare
Eggs in a Basket
Coded Eggs
Section 7
Cracked Eggs

Eggs in a Basket

So, this was probably not the best position I have ever found myself in. Cuffed, locked in the trunk of a moving car, and my datapad is somewhere other than with me. Needless to say, this didn’t look good for me. Hell, with how they pulled me out of there, no one will even know I’m gone.

I don’t know about you but the irony of the situation didn’t escape me at this point. I’m a runner. I work with teams to break into corps and steal secrets and items of value. Somewhere along the line I became an item of value. Somehow this doesn’t make me feel better.

The thing that really tears it up for me right now, I still haven’t figured out what it is I’m carrying in my brain right now. Clearly whatever bonded to me is something a few corps are looking for. This is one of those times when I wish I was a magician so I could make all of this magically go away.

Eggs in a Basket

Flickr Creative Commons via Wicker Paradise

Overtime, cars have been built for comfort. The passenger space is designed to block out road noise and give the occupants a comfy-cozy driving experience. Trunks on the other hand, were not designed with passengers in mind. I whipped around the trunk with every bump and turn. And the noise, the trunk of the car amplifies the road noise to a point where you are sure it is going to crack your skull. As far as travel is concerned, I wouldn’t suggest the trunk as your first choice of driving experiences.

I knew we were at the last stop when I heard the doors open. I prepared for this moment mentally. My hands were cuffed but I managed to wiggle them to the front instead of behind me. My feet were free. I would have a few options open to me if I leveraged it right when they popped the trunk.

Of course, where they pointed the gun might be a factor in this too. They did want me alive, at least it seemed that way. So they wouldn’t shoot at me when push came to shove. I planned to do some pushing and shoving.

I balled up ready to spring when I heard the voices gathered around. Now or never, why is that always the defining moment in situations like this?

The trunk popped open and I came out swinging. Hard to believe but I connected with a thug. A hammer-fist right to the jaw dropped him like a stone. A kick to the throat dropped his partner.

I dropped to a crouch beside the left rear tire. I readied myself for retaliation but nothing came. With a chanced look over the rear of the car I saw that we were in a parking garage. Several spaces were full but the garage was mostly empty. Aside from the two goons I laid out when I extricated myself from the trunk, I was alone in the garage.

Alone in the garage with no idea which way was out, my day was getting interesting. I dug through the goons’ pockets looking for keys to the cuffs. I then cuffed them together so they would have a great surprise when they woke up.

I grabbed the gun and one of the goon’s datapads, shoved some extra magazines in my pocket and ran toward the light. With any luck I could find my way out at street level and be free before they noticed I was missing.

After the problems at their lab, I am not sure why I did it. I sent a message out to Jen on the goon’s datapad. The way things were going lately I wished for the temple communicator that has been so popular. At the least it would allow me to get a hold of others without having to deal with the lack of datapad. But, wishful thinking right?

I found a set of stairs and raced down two at a time. They beat running through the driving levels in the garage. The sooner I could get out of here the sooner I would feel safer. I swear it is like they design these garages to make it harder for a person on foot to get away from attackers.

At street level I found that I was in a public garage. I called up the satellite location app on the datapad. Handy items to have at the touch of a button. But even now they are about as accurate as they were when they first came out.

The map wasn’t much for reassuring me but it at least gave me an idea of where I was. And even then it did little to explain where I was. I expected to be at least near the Universal Controls compound. But that was where the problem lay.

Not only was I not near the UC compound. I wasn’t even near a tech lab. They drove me out into the middle of nowhere and were just going to drop me.

Made no sense to me, why they would do this. Ghost wanted the egg for UC. The tech lab was ready to kill me for the egg. I still didn’t even know what this thing was.

Jen didn’t respond to my text. It was time to figure this thing out. Hell, it was in my head, how hard could it be to pull it out and see what the fuck it is? What I needed was a Net jack, a way into the digital world where I could root around inside my own home point.

It occurred to me that I switched my thinking around on this. Until now I thought of it as a physical item shoved into my brain. But the egg was digital. It was information. Sure it was tied up in a pretty package but that did not change the face that it was information that I should be able to retrieve from the super computer that is my own brain.


If you enjoy these stories, consider leaving some coffee money in the jar or you could buy a book or two. Either way helps keep the stories flowing.

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