The Neo-Metropol Heist

13: Artem

After they had ditched the totalled car in the alleyway they had crashed in, Artem, Cad and Aphelion had made their way back across the city to his apartment in Sharpe Tower, carefully but quickly.
The chase had been played down according to the newsfeed buzz, which led Artem to think that either MetSec or the NMPF didn't want to advertise the fact that they'd caused havoc and risked the lives of citizens chasing one little hacker.
With no upload ping to track and no identifiers, Artem was relatively sure they'd slipped the net, but he still had Cad plot them a route that avoided checkpoints and any area with increased patrols.
Artem scanned his terminal at the apartment door and prepared to invite Aphelion inside, but she'd already crossed the threshold and thrown her bag down before he could speak.
In the light of day and the calm, Artem realised that Aphelion, which was most likely not her real name, was much younger than he'd first thought - at least ten years younger than him, she could barely have been out of her teens.
She looked around and exhaled.
"Not to your liking?" Artem asked, as Cad scooped up her bag and started heading towards the spare bedroom.
Aphelion's head suddenly snapped towards him and she bolted across from where she was stood and yanked the satchel bag from his grip.
"Don't touch that," she scowled.
Cad glanced between her and Artem, unsure of how to handle the situation.
"He's just taking your bag to your room, relax," Artem said calmly. Aphelion suddenly relaxed and nodded apologetically.
"Sorry," she said, handing the bag back to him.
"Go on, Cad," Artem said. Cad bowed slightly and resumed the task, disappearing to the spare room.
"Cad?" Aphelion asked, her eyebrow raised.
Artem nodded.
"Citizen Assistance Droid 401," he said in an explanatory tone, "he's my... friend."
He realised how ridiculous that sounded the second he said it. Aphelion made a sound that was less judgemental and more curious and he forgot he'd even said it.
"He's a mark sixteen, right?" She asked, Artem nodding, "could be a misfiring feedback loop in the priority control systems. You can fix that."
Artem bobbed his head in the way that people did when they were pretending to listen.
"Well, yeah, but then I'd have to give him back," he said.
"Isn't that theft of city property?" Aphelion grinned.
"I prefer to think of it as liberation of city property," Artem said, his tone half-serious, "you know about robots?"
Aphelion laughed, walking around the apartment, her eyes scanning back and forth as she took in every small detail.
"I know about most things," she said, "but I guess you could say robots especially."
"Good to know," Artem said, pulling his terminal from his pocket and gesturing for the TV to turn on, then scrolled through the channels, leaving it without thought on a newsfeed, "well, I guess you can stay here for as long as you like. Make yourself at home."
There was a shuddering buzzing sound and the door to the workshop slid open, the small blue and grey metal sphere that was Pete jerkily hovering out into the apartment, the electro-shocker set into his centre sparking an angry blue.
Aphelion watched as he shuddered towards her.
"Don't worry about him, that's just Pete," Artem said as Pete fired a badly directed spray of electricity in Aphelion's general direction, "Pete, sit."
Immediately, Pete's metal casing snapped shut and he dropped to the floor with a muted growl.
"What kind of place is this?" Aphelion asked, scooping Pete up from the ground and inspecting his charred casing, "do you mind?" she asked, gesturing towards the workshop.
"Go right ahead," Artem said, and she vanished behind the smoky-glass partition.
He could hear the clatter of tools as Cad reappeared from the spare room.
"I have left," Cad began, suddenly struggling for a descriptor for Aphelion, "Miss Aphelion's belongings in the spare room and prepared it for her, is there anything else?"
Artem grinned, "to be honest Cad, you've already done more than necessary, I didn't even know we had a spare room."
Cad bowed and there came a buzz from the front door, Harry's face appearing on the screen next to it.
"Artem, buzz me in," he rumbled.
Artem went across to the screen and placed his finger over the button to unlock the front door.
"Who is it?" Artem asked with mock-innocence.
"Don't be facetious, you little prick," Harry growled, rubbing his forehead, his features compacted with a fisheye effect on the tiny screen.
"Big words only work if you don't punctuate them with profanity, Uncle Harry," Artem sang.
This time Harry just stared with eyes like they were made of stone, so Artem jammed the door buzzer and let him in.
A few moments later, enough time for Artem to pretend he was tidying round, Harry appeared at the front door and strode into the apartment.
He wore a thick winter coat and heavy black work-boots, his salt and pepper hair windswept and his expression chiselled by the outside gust.
Cad greeted him and took his coat, and he peered into the workshop.
"You made contact with our first associate, then?" he said, "did you have any trouble?"
"Nothing I can't handle with a little creative driving and quick wit," Artem grinned.
Harry just looked at him, so Artem took to what he did naturally and filled the air with words until somebody else spoke - his own personal defence mechanism.
"You were right about her being a sewer rat," he explained, "me and Cad found her in the Lair, turns out she was letting us find her," Harry made an impressed face like he'd suspected as much, "that also meant that other people could find her too."
"Patrol?" Harry said, his voice short. Artem shrugged.
"Or MetSec, I can't say for sure," he said, "their unis and cars were unmarked. They had drones too, but that doesn't tell us much. They'd been tracking the same upload ping that we were, once she shut that off, we lost them."
"Shit, the last people we want on our tail are private mercenaries," Harry grumbled, walking to the living area and sat on the comfortable light-grey sofa, "at least the NMPF have to pretend they're civilised."
Artem nodded as Aphelion re-entered the room, Pete hovering more smoothly on her tail, his indicator light now a bright green and the beeps he sounded cheerful and regular.
"You fixed him!" Artem chuckled, leaning down and going to pat the security drone on its top, only to receive an angry static shock and a red warning light, "ouch," he said, rubbing his hand.
"Yeah, I did, until you use him for target practice again or whatever you were doing," Aphelion said with indignation, "that's cruel."
Artem shrugged. Cad appeared from the coat-cupboard and eyed Pete up before taking his place carefully at the fringe of the conversation, beginning to quietly observe.
"Aphelion," Artem said, still stroking his sore hand, "this is Harry Cain, he's the... erm. That's a good question, Harry, what are you?"
Harry sighed and stood up to shake Aphelion's hand, she took it but didn't say anything.
"Driver and mechanic," he said, "and the one who keeps this idiot in check."
Aphelion finally smiled and sat next to him.
"So, I'm guessing Aphelion isn't your real name?" Harry asked her.
Aphelion eyed him carefully for a moment, then something switched in her eyes and the tough exterior that had remained from the moment Artem had found her in the Lair suddenly lowered. It was hard not to trust Harry, Artem thought, which had brought down more people than he could count.
"Good a name as any," Aphelion told him, glancing down at Pete, who hovered obediently at her feet. Her voice had a distinct street drawl to it - her 'As' a little too long, her 'Ys' a touch too short.
Harry nodded. Artem watched the conversation carefully but didn't interfere.
"What does it mean?" Harry asked, casually checking the gunmetal grey watch at his wrist that probably cost more than the car that Artem had wrecked.
Before Aphelion could answer, Cad suddenly spoke.
"Aphelion," he said, "noun, the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun."
Artem grinned.
"Well, there we go," Harry said, "and how did that come to be your name?"
Aphelion shrugged.
"It sounds cool," she said, shortly, "you don't make it in my line of work without a cool name."
Harry and Artem laughed at the succinctness of her answer and the deadpan tone of her voice.
"I trust Artem has told you why we were looking for you?" Harry asked her.
Aphelion half nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose, "sort of, we've been a bit busy, something big and something illegal, though, right?"
"You catch on quick," Artem said, "you'll fit in. If you want to, that is."
Aphelion looked quizzical for a moment.
"I'm in charge of tech support and hacking?" She asked.
"You and only you," Artem said.
"I will also be providing support and secondary analysis," Cad advised her.
"You and Cad, a bit," Artem corrected.
Aphelion looked Cad over, but not with any kind of suspicion or disdain.
"I don't have anywhere better to be, I suppose," she said, finally.
"All right then," Harry said, "looks like we have our hacker."
Pete beeped happily and Cad looked at him again, somehow conveying several different emotions with a simple expression made of pixels.
"Shall I send Mr Helten a message and inform him?" Cad asked.
Artem nodded and the message was gone before his head had settled again.
"Okay, next item on the agenda," Harry said, "I found the girl that kicked your ass."
Artem sighed like he was about to deflate, Aphelion looked at him and grinned. Harry took out his terminal and the picture of Theocea Tamar appeared on the glass-thin TV screen, a random stray image from a security camera somewhere in the city pulled from millions of others.
"She's where you'd expect her to be, Playa Perdido," Harry explained, "but unlike with our tech expert here, we don't have an upload ping to track."
Artem rubbed the day old stubble on his chin, looking at the map of Playa Perdido that Harry had put up, overlaid over Theocaea's face, muting the colours of her dark skin. The ramshackle island itself was huge, at least half the main island again, growing out into the bay like an awful tumour.
"Right, so, plan?" he asked.
"We have to lure her out, then, right?" Aphelion asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose again, it appeared to be a habit she had, even when her glasses were already pushed as far as they could go.
"Sounds about right," Harry agreed, "she'll still be trying to move the stuff from the Astoria job. I can put the word out that any movement from her comes straight to me."
"What, are you like, king of the criminals?" Aphelion chuckled, her face a mixture of surprise and admiration when Harry didn't deny it.
"When she takes the bait, we'll be there waiting for her," Harry finished, "or, you will."
"Okay," Artem said, "not like we have a better plan."
"It should work, as long as you can stay upright for long enough," Harry said, laughing at his own joke, Aphelion joining him.
"Ha-ha," Artem seethed, "and when exactly does that stop being funny?"
Harry wiped a tear from his eye.
"Not even close to now, kid," he said.
Artem shook his head, then glanced up at the TV screen, which had flicked back to a news feed, a bright scrolling ribbon of news below quickly changing images.
"You said Playa Perdido, right?" He asked.
Harry grunted in confirmation.
"We might have a problem, then," Artem said, waiting for Harry to look up and then pointing at the screen.
All three of them looked up - on the screen, a flashing banner indicated 'breaking' news over a report that showed a surging crowd throwing anything they could get their hands on at a column of heavily armed patrol officers.
The news ribbon said: 'OUTBREAK OF VIOLENCE AND UNREST IN PLAYA PERDIDO'.
Beneath that, there was a line about an incident between patrol officers and a local teenager, but Artem couldn't take his eyes off the video.
"Yeah," Harry said, "that definitely could be a problem."