Mardock Scramble

Balot nodded, wrapped Oeufcoque around her fingers.

–All set.

She imagined a dress, an impregnable iron fortress that would wrap her up completely.

Working with this vague image, she snarced Oeufcoque, running through his various programs and adapting them one by one.

–Hug my body. Tight.

Oeufcoque turned with a squish.

Into the dress chosen—singled out—by his one and only.

The night melted like chocolate and seeped into the town.

The Bandersnatch Gang moved as one. Rapidly, silently, they closed in on the former morgue from three different directions.

Welldone led the way, and Medium followed swiftly behind.

Welldone checked the surroundings while Medium stuck his Lockbuster Card into the rear door.

“It’s open. It was a triple lock—we only just made it.” Medium spoke and quickly slipped inside. Welldone followed immediately after, almost back-to-back with Medium, and closed the door carefully behind them.

The corridors were dark and narrow. Medium proceeded down them with caution, and Welldone indicated to him to speak through their transplanted communication devices.

–We’ll leave the Lockbuster in and use it to carry our hack of the circuits. How long till we can take over the building’s security systems, Fleshie?

–Two minutes should be plenty, Well.

–Rare, you enter from the south the moment we’ve overridden their security. Medium, you enter from the main entrance, carrying the Boston bag full of firearms. No transmissions from more than three meters away until we’re sure their security system is completely down.

–There are your orders, guys. I’ve pinned down the location of everything in the building. Heat sources detected in the kitchen on the first floor and the north-facing bathroom.

–Go and investigate, Medi. See that the target doesn’t escape through a window. I’m heading to the basement.

Without looking back Medium raised his right hand to acknowledge, then glided down the corridor, footfall silent, disappearing around the right turn.

He removed his gun from its holster on his hip, and his eyes flashed red behind his sunglasses. His computer-enhanced eyes picked up all the obstacles in the dark, clearly and accurately.

–Building secured. Sending through floor plans of the whole building now.

Flesh’s voice echoed deep in his ear.

Medium’s eye flashed. A semi-transparent diagram appeared directly over his retina. There were little markers to show where he and the other members of his gang were, and the rooms where their target was likely to be were highlighted in red.

–Move in, Rare. Mincemeat, standby on alert five meters from the entrance hall. Flesh was giving the instructions now.

“Here we go!” Medium used his real voice, not the wireless. A smirk formed on his face.

He pushed on, cross-checking the data on the map in his retina with what he could see, and decided on his best route.

If he’d wanted to he could have brought up an image of the field of vision of the other gang members, but Medium stayed fixed on the floor plans as he advanced down the corridor. It was a long corridor. Some sort of special setup, thought Medium. This is massive. Why would you need a bathroom that’s more than twenty square meters in size? Must be to clean all those dead bodies. There was almost no light now, and he passed by a number of doors but barely paid them any notice. He’d already checked in his retina that the target wasn’t behind them.

And this was why he completely failed to notice the white shadow that emerged from one of the rooms and started to tail him, following in his footsteps almost casually.

Medium turned a corner in the corridor and before he knew it he appeared to be inside a small closet.

Medium froze to the spot. Darkness enveloped him and seemed to stretch out forever.

–Fleshie? What the hell is going on? Where am I?

–Calm down. Calm down. There’s a door right in front of you.

–Door? I don’t see any…

But then Medium realized that he was indeed staring at a single door right in front of him.

–Found it. A door. What’s on the other side?

–Someone’s waiting for you.

–Waiting?

–Someone’s holding a gun and waiting for you.

Medium smirked.

–Okay, Fleshie. Let’s work out if it’s our target or the PI. Give me their exact location and physical characteristics.

An image flashed up in Medium’s eyes—an orange silhouette of the figure beyond the door.

–Wow, a giant. At least two meters tall. Must be the PI, right?

–That’s right. And if you shoot, you’ll hit him for sure.

Medium aimed his gun carefully at his enemy beyond the door.

–Let’s see who’s the faster shot, tough guy.

He fired.

All fourteen shots in three seconds flat. He swapped magazines immediately, then kicked down the door that was now riddled with bullet holes.

Something came hurtling toward him, enveloping him.

–What the…

Cold water.

Medium scrambled to ready his gun, no idea what was going on.

Something slammed into his shoulders and body, forcing him over in a backward somersault.

He thought for a moment that he had been hit by some explosives that the enemy had planted.

But, as it transpired, he was wrong.

His eyesight returned to him and cut through the haze, and he saw it was something entirely different that floated to the surface. A large white mass.

Medium’s gun shot up, a reflex action.

It was a bundle of wet toilet paper.

Soaked through now, Medium took his sunglasses off and opened his eyes wide.

He was in a toilet stall.

This was the place that he had kicked the door down to and rushed in.

The toilet was in smithereens, obliterated by the electric charges fired at it, and it was vigorously spewing out water.

“What…what the hell is all this?” He spoke out loud again, unthinking.

He left the cubicle. On the wall to the right of him he saw four urinals. On the opposite wall, mirrors and sinks.

The giant expanse of space he’d been in had disappeared without a trace.

Medium turned back to look at the stall again.

It was the only stall in the bathroom, and his eyes went to something on the wall above the destroyed toilet.

Written on the tiles, in a bright poppy-red color:

I’M GONNA TO SNARC YOU UP!

–Fleshie, what the hell am I looking at…

–I’m coming…

–What?