He was assimilating the shield device itself in its entirety. Finally becoming one with the purest form of himself proved extremely advantageous. Doing things such as object assimilation became a concept his body and mind found much easier to understand. In a matter of ten seconds, the bright turquoise light flashed as his palm quickly absorbed the shield device. He took a deep breath; and through his will alone he opened his palm and activated the shield.
“Xandra, fire again,” he said.
“Very well. Test commencing in three, two, one.”
The AI fired two shots. The force field reacted the exact same way, but Rez noticed a significant difference. Somehow, the shield was able to show Rez it’s damage report in real time without the AI’s assistance. 'Ninety-Nine-point eight percent' the reading showed on the inside of the shield on a translucent energy hexagon.
Rez retracted the shield once more. Upon complete retraction back into his palm, his left hand went numb almost immediately.
“Ah, drawbacks. Guess I can’t use this as often as I’d like,” Rez said as he shook his hand to get the feeling back into it. This’ll take some getting used to, he thought. A few minutes later, feeling came back to his hand. He received another encrypted email. This time it was from Asuka.
My brother insisted on me giving you this information for he could not, considering his important position. I don’t know what you plan to do with this, but I pray you are safe in your endeavors. My brother appears to have found his spark to do what is right because of you. If he believes in you, so shall I. I also believe it to be my duty to help, to make up for violating hacker’s tradition from my prior exploits as Queenalona. I am so sorry. I hope this makes up for such a blunder and helps you in your journey.
Good Luck,
Asuka
Asuka, via Shino, sent Rez a series of energy grids. It looks like a good amount of power was recently redirected to Zonos Tower. Could those generators need that much juice? Taking thirty-five percent of the city’s excess and redirecting it to there? Rez thought to himself. He assembled his equipment, gathered his things, and made his way upstairs.
***
Rez secured everything at Home-base, got on his bike, and made his way out into Darkside. It was daytime, so not much was happening in the neighborhood. Rez headed toward a Gunners stable in the neighborhood run by a powerful Controlman named Marx. As he pulled up, he was surrounded by Young AK gang members that were associated with the Controlman.
“The fuck’re you doin’ here on our turf, man?” one of the gangsters asked.
“I mean you no harm. I only came to see Marx. Got a business proposition for him,” Rez replied with his hands up.
“Marx don’t have no fucking meeting scheduled, dude. Get outta here before we fill you with metal,” the gangster replied.
“Can one of you with some sense run inside and tell Marx I got a lot of money for him? I didn’t come to fight,” Rez said.
“Alright, alright, what’s all the commotion?” a man asked, strolling out of the rundown bungalow, accompanied by two other people.
“I heard someone talking about money. You legit?” the man asked.
“You Marx?” Rez countered.
“Look buddy are you legit or not? Depending on what you say I may or may not be him,” he said.
“I don’t have anything to do with the feds, CSSA, or Psi-Corp. Just a guy with an idea,” Rez replied.
The man signaled his men to lower their weapons. “Let’s talk inside.”
Rez fully dismounted his bike and secured it before he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his back, nudging to move him forward. One of the members frisked Rez to make sure he wasn’t armed.
“All clear,” the member said.
These guys take no chances. Sheesh, Rez thought to himself. Inside the bungalow were close to twenty more Alley Kid gang members hanging out, smoking, playing video games. There were also a few women around. On the table in the living room was an entire rack filled with BL-48 Pulse Laser assault rifles, a bunch of pistols, reams of ammo, and stacks of cash and drugs. They led Rez downstairs to the basement. There, a sole overhead light and a large poker table stood as there were even more gang members gambling amongst each other.
“Emergency meeting. Five of you guys head upstairs and take watch. And for god’s sake, keep your dicks in your pants, those women ain’t here to be raped now! You pay!” the man said. The gang members complied and went upstairs. Rez was directed to sit at the table. He walked over, small briefcase in hand, and opted to stand instead.
“Now what’s this supposed deal you have for me?” the man said. Rez quietly opened the briefcase. Inside was twenty-five thousand Creds cash. “Well, well. The name’s Marx. And you are?” Marx asked, leaning back in his chair as he lit a cigar.
Marx was above average height, was relatively thin with fair skin, and dirty blond hair in a bun. He sported a medium sized beard, wore dark brown cargo pants with boots, a flight jacket with a fur collar, and no shirt on underneath. He sported strange tattoos and sported an industrial chain that hung low around his neck.
“Doesn’t matter what my name is right now. What does matter is whether this money has convinced you to work with me or not,” Rez flatly replied. Marx motioned his hands as if to open the floor for conversation. “Very well. I’m about to embark on a little anti-Zonos campaign,” Rez said.
“Anti-Zonos?” Marx asked.
“Yeah, you can call it a nice little prank.”
“Marx! Marx! I heard there was some guy with golden eyes here to meet with you!” a gang member yelled as he stumbled down the basement steps in a frenzy.
He looked beat up and flustered. His shoulder was in a sling and had a swollen black eye.
