Ditto?

  The warm mid spring sun is being drawn back over the horizon. Long growing shadows merge with the expanding darkness at the heart of the massive skyscrapers, not much unlike all the other approximately 130 times the sun has set in the Hypes yearly cycle of May 27, 1986. Bucket is standing outside Radio City Music Hall, the multicolor neon lights on the sign announcing Simple Minds is playing tonight. The gathered crowd of women dressed in band t-shirts with denim pants or colorful skirts and men, mostly in band t-shirts and blue jeans mingle about.

  The air filled with colognes with an overwhelming woody musky smell, perfumes of jasmine and spices. Most all those mingling about are smoking, mostly, but not exclusively, tobacco. There is constant chatter of the news of the day, in quieter tones some of the Net Lords are talking about things no one in 1986 ever talked about on the streets in public. Some of the younger couples off to the side take a snort of coke off the back of their thumbs, no seems bothered by this.

  Bucket views this all in the Hype through his ghostshades, only being able to see through the one eye he sees all this plus all the technical data from the ghostshade HUD crammed on one lens. It's like trying to look at the world through a computer board, only with the green solder mask removed leaving a bunch of cluttered wires, circuits, transistors and chips that are illuminated in a glowing electric blue. He can see through it all—but can he see it all?

  DM Team DL – Bucket – I don't like how busy it is Tales, so many of these assholes packed in really tight and I don't have an AR's. Fuck, how did I let you talk me into this? So we're going to knock them out with a sedative, field purge them out of their echo-suits and kill the Net Lord's body deep in the Hive. Yeah, that doesn't sound jank at all. You do realize I can't shoot for shit right now?

  DM Team DL – Tales – Frick Bucket, relax, we got this. Your aim wasn't that bad, you shot the Nightfall agent in the family jewels.

  He's not ready to be out in the field. Always so sure he has his doubts, shoving aside all the events of the last 24 hours is like sweeping a brick under the rug; sure you don't see the red brink, but you damn well know that rectangle lump ain't no dust bunny.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – I was aiming for his chest.

  DM Team DL – Glitch – The story tells better if you don't mention that you were aiming for his chest. Man, this portable deck is amazing, cost me half the judges pension but was worth it. With the tri-output for the neural input I can smoothly switch between up to four inputs.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – I hope the bottom of that thing is resistant to liquid, the way you're going on about with it on your lap you don't want to shock yourself when you bust a leak through your pants.

  DM Team DL – Glitch – Aw come on, why do you have to be like that? Why can’t you just let me be happy?

  DM Team DL – Tales – I'm just glad his sense of humour is back and that I'm not the target.

  DM Team DL – Glitch – You Ok in the Hive there Tales?

  DM Team DL – Tales – Everything is fricken great. The charges are set, I set up the controller relays for the four stasis tanks. You have good signals on them all?

  DM Team DL – Glitch – I do, one is bouncing between 50% and 90%, should be fine though. How are you doing Bucket? I had to turn the alarms off and manually over ride the nano-bots trying to triage your eye and hand.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – I feel like shit. I thought my head was going to crack open when I put the suit on. I really don't feel like coming back and doing this again if it doesn't work. They'll be alerted if we have to abort, and have their guard up for the next attempt.

  DM Team DL – Tales – Bucket, think of it this way; we're doing four skinjacks at the same time, that's freeing four people.

  The concert goers are streaming in now, Bucket has three of them marked with a pin on his ghostshades, the fourth in an apartment a block south.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – Ok, the three are going into the show. Transmit a countdown sync on my ghostshades.

  A countdown clock on his ghostshades reads 45:00 in electric blue text and starts counting down.

  The sky looks like rough chunks of ripped apart tempra foam of all shades of grey, thrown into the heavens, just hanging there. The wind howls, the odd drop of water slaps his face as if mother nature herself is insulted by his presence outdoors as he marches into the oppressive wind towards the tea house.

  Stepping into the tea house he takes a seat by the round, glassed in fireplace in the middle of the room. There are large picture windows at the front, the smell of the roaring fire, spices, cinnamon and vanilla waft through the air, the furnishing is heavily lacquered solid wood.

  A server approaches, wearing black slacks, a white button shirt under a green vest, he orders a tea. “Hi, I'm Liz, will anyone be joining you today?”

  “Yes. I mean, hopefully.” He says with an awkward smile.

  She looks down at him with a knowing grin, “You're a smart young man, I'm sure she'll show. Would you like to start with a drink?” She says in an overly pleasant tone.

  “One tea please.” He says.

  “Which would you like? We have spiced black tea, a variety of herbal teas and a blue berry infusion.”

  “Um, er, just a tea.”

  She smiles politely, “Of course.” She says with a smile and walks off, chatting with another server while waiting for his order. They both look at him and smile, talking amongst themselves. She returns with a tea a few minutes later. Checking his watch, he's on time.

  He waits for Angela.

  And waits.

  The two serves now glance at him with a sad, pitiful look. Liz walks over with a muffin and places it on the table.

  “I guess I better pay now.” He says.

  “Oh, no dear, I insist, my treat.” She says with a sympathetic look, “The weather is bad, perhaps she's just running late.”

  Picking at the muffin, all he can think is this has to be some sort of karma. She's 15 minutes late, he's calculated he only has enough money for 6 teas she might want a muffin or sandwich. He can't count on Liz giving them free food, it was nice of her though. He convinced father he needed new work boots, he bought some secondhand to get a hold of the change to pay for tea. And now it looks like he'll have crap boots for a year and she won't even show.

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  Gazing out the large windows he sees the blustery fall day threatening rain. He sees Angela marching towards the shop, her steps carrying some of the weather's bluster. She pushes the door open and speaks to him from across the room.

  “Blake, forget the tea, come with me.” He stands, Liz and the other server smile as he jumps to his feet, shoving the half eaten muffin in his pocket he follows her outside. She walks at a steady pace down the road, he has to really move to catch up.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Away for this bull shit.” She turns to him, “Your dad beats you, doesn't he?”

  He freezes looking at her, what will she think of him if he tells the truth? Will she think he's weak? “I, well what does that have to do with anything?” He says.

  “I've been told I can't see you by my parents. They think he'll hurt me.” She says looking into his eyes, her shoulder length blond hair wind swept across her face.

  “I would never let that happen.”

  “I believe you. I don't want it to happen to you anymore either. We should move away.” She turns and keeps walking.

  “Wait, what do you mean?” He says. No, she couldn't have said what he thinks she said. The rain starts, pounding against them sideways, the winds shoving them around the sidewalk.

  She laughs, “Even the sky is working against us. Down here.” She heads down a side alley. They are drenched to the core by the cold, late autumn rain. “We can't be in public, my dad will find out. Blake, I've wanted to be with you from the moment I saw you. I'm risking getting in a lot of trouble, I need to know if you even feel a fraction of what I feel.”

  “I feel the same, the only reason I didn't say anything is Ryan said he likes you, he was working up to asking you out.”

  She places her cold wet hands on his face, her drenched hair plastered to the side of her face, “I like Ryan, but not like I like you Blake. You're a good friend to look out for Ryan, but I want you. I asked you out. I need you to kiss me instead of me kiss you. That is if you want too...”

  There is so much to process in such a short time. He's always dreamed of moving away, but since he's met Angela his dreams have changed into her moving away with him. And now here she is, in front of him, playing out his dreams. “Don't give me hope that I can get away from all this if you don't mean it. I dream of getting away from father, he talks of me working the farm until he passes away. Is this a dream?”

  “No, this is real. I've lived in 7 places in the last 9 years. I'm weary of this, of making friends then moving. I need to get away from all this. And I've seen how you are, you'll be there for me, you can protect me.”

  With the rain beating down on them he nervously puts his arms around her and they kiss.

  The timer says 05:12, it's almost go time.

  As much as we like thinking of her, you need to focus Buddy.

  I know Ryan.

  DM Team DL – Tales – Get ready to walk them out. Glitch, do you have control of the first three echo-suits?

  DM Team DL – Glitch – 10-4. Get in place Bucket.

  It's been two weeks since their date—or what turned into them scheming to run away together. They have been talking, strengthening their resolve in their rash plan. He's waiting in the darkness of the barn, waiting for her, peaking out to look for father, nervously bouncing his leg. This is crazy, but it feels so right. He's sold what little possessions he has to the pawn shop, she has some money as well. If they can just make it to the city, find any work, he knows he's a hard worker.

  “Blake?” He hears her whisper. He turns on the small lamp.

  “Yeah.” he can see her walk in, she throws her arms around him and they kiss. They've been planning this for the last two weeks, they're actually doing it. “Blake, I'm nervous.”

  “Do you want to call it off?” He says. He's had his doubts, mostly about her resolve. She has more to lose—he has everything to gain.

  “No. They will look for us, we need to get far fast. Let's go.” He takes her hand, throwing a large bag over his shoulder they walk to the door. There is a lone figure in the doorway.

  “Who do you have here son?” His flashlight illuminating father.

  “A friend. I'm leaving.” He says, grasping her hand firmer, he glares at father.

  He laughs. “Not with my bag you're not.”

  “You've done enough, we're leaving.” Angela goes to push past, his father grabs her by the wrist and yanks her back into the barn, she stumbles, banging her head on a support beam, a small trickle of blood runs down her face. Bucket kneels down, looking at her. “I'm fine Blake.” At those words he pushes the bag off his shoulder and spins, tackling his father he slams him into the wall of the barn. Grappling his father, he spins him over, slamming him onto the barn floor. He gets on top of him, punching him relentlessly.

  “No!” Angela screams, a moment later he feels something solid connect on the side of his head, he has to fight to stay conscious, father pushes him off and stands over him with a branding iron.

  “You ungrateful bastard! You really are a bastard, you know that? You're not my son.” Blake raises his forearms to protect himself from the swing of the branding iron.

  “Please! Stop!” Angela cries.

  “Get the hell out of here or you'll be next.”

  She goes to the door entrance. “I'll get help.” She runs off into the darkness.

  Father starts rooting through his bag. “You really were going to run away, weren't you? Who do you think was going to look after the farm? Alice is too good to work the fields, Kenny is too weak. You need to learn your place.”

  He loses track of time, all he remembers is he had to scramble to protect his head from the strikes from the branding iron. A vehicle pulls up to the barn. A tall, well built man gets out.

  “We need to talk.” The man says in a booming, commanding voice.

  “This is my business, you need to get off my land.”

  “Not before we chat.”

  Father walks over to the man, “Leave.”

  “No. My daughter came running in the front door just now with blood running down her face, said it was you. I just wanted to confirm this with you before things proceed.” He speaks in a calm, measured tone. But there is an edge to his speech that is counter to the way he's presenting himself.

  “She was trying to steal this bag over there.” He points to the bag beside Bucket.

  “Ah yes. The bag beside your boy who you've beaten half dead. You know I've seen your sort a few times in my travels, I've always tried to help. But every time they take men like you back in. I feel for the boy. But, there is the issue of you laying your hands on my daughter.”

  “Get off my land.”

  “Make me.”

  Father swings the branding iron at him, he moves faster, with a sureness of experience blocking the strike by grasping his fathers forearm. He strips him of the branding iron, then strikes him in the face, his knees buckle as he falls. He kneels down, grasping father by the hair and punching him in the face repeatedly.

  There is a click of a gun being cocked, mother is standing in the barn entrance with a shotgun.

  “That's enough Mister.”

  “He laid hands on my daughter.”

  “And you laid hands on him, I think things are more than even. Not excusing what he did, but the family needs him to work the farm, he can't be spending time in no hospital.”

  He stands, father falls to the ground unconscious. Mother tends to father, the man walks over to Blake, digs in his pocket and pulls out a card. “My daughter will not be seeing you anymore, I can't risk her being around him. Take this,“ He hands him a card. ”16 is the minimum age to join the service. I reckon you're a year or two shy of that, tell them you don't have a registered ID and they won't question it if you hand them my card. This is all I can do for you, son. They feed you and you get rewarded for hard work. If my daughter likes you there must be good in you. You're on your own now, but if you join the service you are never alone. I wish you the best.” He stands and walks out of the barn.

  He can feel the pain run up the back of his neck to the base of his skull. Why the hell did he put an echo-suit on when he had a fractured skull again? He sees the first of them march to the lobby, their walking looks robotic, Glitch is controlling their echo-suit, he administered a local so the wetware host is unconscious, their link to the Net Lord severed. The other two appear in the lobby, being walked unconsciously in the echo-suits.

  Bucket leads them out, the pin of the fourth starts to move towards his location.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – You seeing that Glitch? The fourth target is moving towards me. I need you to stop it.

  DM Team DL – Glitch – Yeah, I'm trying. The unit is unresponsive. Tales?

  DM Team DL – Tales – Frick, I can't get anywhere near it, two Net Lords are by the stasis tank. If they set the alarms I'm 5 floors down with one way out.

  DM Team DL – Bucket – I'm heading in the opposite direction, find me a safe location to push them in a field purge.

  Bucket and his three companions march down the street, the fourth target in a slow pursuit. She's not running towards them, she's moving at a steady pace. Bucket crosses the street, moving a block south her amber blinking marker can be seen on his ghostshades HUD, following. It's disorienting processing it all, seeing through his only eye the info is overlapping with the Hype images in front of him.

  DM Jodi-->Bucket – Blake, what the hell are you doing in the field? With the injuries you have, how are you even on your feet? You CANNOT engage that fourth target heading to you. They are backing off shortly, I'm sending a message to Tales letting her know she can't engage with that target's stasis tank. It has to do with, you know.

  He does. Their talk from last night, he knows for her to contact him on open coms it must be important.

  DM Bucket-->Jodi – Wait, your signal is local, where are you?

  DM Jodi-->Bucket – There is a lot to explain. I can't say over coms, but I have a fix to what you're missing. I'm sending a car to pick you up.

  DM Bucket-->Jodi – Wait, I need to finish this mission.

  DM Jodi-->Bucket – Ok.

  DM Bucket-->Jodi – I miss you.

  With a slight crackle, the radio goes silent.