She wasn’t going to stay in the slums. She had to prove who she was and get her old life back.
Then I’ll make some changes from within, she thought. If I was in charge, no one would have to live like this.
A new sense of determination filled her.
That’s what I’ll do. I’ll start a revolution of sorts. Build a new Shell City.
She reached over and grabbed a bit of ragged tarp that was bundled up by the dumpster and draped it over herself. Convinced she was hidden well enough to avoid some street punk messing with her, she entered a low power state.
It was rough going since day one. It was now a week into Tera’s new life as a slum dweller, and she didn’t know how much more she could take. Every day was a constant struggle to move, find a decent place to loiter, and fend off the other slum dwellers.
She grew accustomed to harassment in her short time as a Slumside resident. The men would make rude comments about her and try to intimidate her with their size. She thought of them like posturing apes, beating on their chests. She tried to ignore them, but that only angered them more. The best approach, she found, was just to avoid them altogether. Don’t allow them to get close enough for an altercation.
The children would try to mess with her too, prodding at the panels on her bodyshell when she wasn’t looking. It was like they were playing some weird game where the goal was to cause as many mechanical malfunctions on her person as possible. Fending them off was even harder than the men because they were small, tricky, and persistent. The more she tried to shoo them away, the more interested they became. She hadn’t found a good approach for them just yet.
There was some solace in the other I.I.s who called Slumside their home. They weren’t exactly welcoming, but they were acceptable company when she needed it. They didn’t try to mess with her or intimidate her because they knew what it was like.
As she got to know a few of them, she started to realize the I.l.s trapped in the ghetto might be worse off than the humans. Despite being oppressed, the fleshies had strength in numbers. They fought, of course, but more often than not, humans got along with each other. And together, they hated progs like her.
Tera became friends with one I.I. who offered her things to read in order to kill the ever-present boredom of the ghettos. She found the things he gave her enlightening. They motivated her even more to take action, to change the city around her.
Then, one day, her friend pulled her aside while the other I.I.s played a game of dominoes.
“I know who you are,” he said.
She cocked her painted-on — not synthetic — eyebrow. “What?” she asked.
“You’re that former cop, Tera Alvarez,” he replied. “I know you.”
The female bodyshell stepped back a little, a suspicious expression on her face.
“You’ve seen me on patrol before?” she said.
He nodded.
“And who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Gauge,” he replied. “I want to offer you a chance to redeem yourself. To clear your name and to make sure no one else has to endure the injustice you’ve been subject to. That’s what you want more than anything, isn’t it?”
Tera was shocked. “How do you know these things?”
“I have some connections. In fact, my friends would like to meet you, if you would be interested,” he said. “You’d have to keep it really low key, though.”
She thought for a moment.
“When do they want to meet?” she asked.
Briefing
“Ethan,” Gauge said. “I’d like you to meet our newest recruit.”
The young man turned away from the computer console he was working on and faced the two bodyshells that approached him. He didn’t recognize the mechanical woman Gauge was leading, but that was to be expected. He barely recognized Gauge, and he had seen him every day for the last month or so. To him, a lot of the bodyshells looked alike, so it wasn’t until he actually spoke to them that he could be sure who they were.
“This is Tera Alvarez,” Gauge said, waving towards the feminine bodyshell. “She used to be a police officer for the Council.”
“A cop, eh?” Ethan asked. “How do we know we can trust her?”
Gauge laughed a little. “I assure you, we vet our people, Ethan,” he said. “But thanks for the concern.”
“You don’t look so trustworthy yourself,” Tera said, eying the teenage boy up and down. He was only a year or so younger than her, yet seemed like a child in comparison.
“Ethan here has been helping us understand a whole hell of a lot about the Council’s security systems,” Gauge said. “You see, he’s one of the victims of their meat puppet farm. They kept him in a simulation since he was a baby. He has just as much reason to hate the Council as you do.”
“Must have been nice,” Tera said, “getting to spend all that time in the simulation. That blissful ignorance.”
“Yeah, it was a real treat being lied to my whole life so they could harvest my body like some sort of livestock,” Ethan replied. “I bet being a Council lapdog was more fun, though.”
Tera narrowed her eyes at the teenager. He returned the death glare.
“Well, I knew you two would get along,” Gauge said sarcastically.
Despite his indignation, Ethan couldn’t help but feel like something about Tera was familiar. Not her face or name, of course, but her voice. Like he’d spoken to her once before, briefly, and had since forgotten it.
“Ah, there you are!” a male voice called to them. The three of them turned to the makeshift entrance
