An Introduction to Dominion City

"Sometimes, walking the road less-travelled means you get to beat your own path..."

Here are a few words, taken from my forthcoming novel, 'Fool's Sacrifice', a barnstorming tale in its own right and also the jumping-off point for a series of yarns set in the desperate confines of Dominion City; a place so tough that even the rats wear knuckle-dusters (no, really they don't, though they are quite mean):

This is an excerpt from the opening chapter. Enjoy...

Lee Lazarus had been a largely successful Jaybird with a collective known as Zoot’s Yard for the best part of a year. His tag was G-Boy, since he was given to spending downtime on E creating his murals all around the Yard and flophouses. G-Boy had been busted on a couple of occasions: one an actual bust while on the Skank, once on decoy duty and as a result is denied all access to public transportation within the tidal walls of Dominion. With another three close scrapes in the space of the last week alone, and each one being fingered for the Dummy Run, he was beginning to feel that his luck was running out.

The Dummy Run: decoy duty; an essential part of the operation, diverting resources from the scenes of other crimes by going in unprotected. This buys time for Tex as they shield the other flyers using priority PACK’s and transmitting bogus Hi-Cam footage to Central Bank, swamping vital areas with erroneous data for it to sift through. No integrated computer system is impervious to attack and such was the case with Central Bank. Tex can hack in, but they will be traced and quick. So, while the Jaybirds were out on the Skank, Tex were holed up in front of banks of data ports at various locations ready to hotfoot it at a moment’s notice.

Such was the importance of decoy duty, but it was welcomed by only the loosest cannons in the Yard, fried on a diet of Crank and Spark. The Holo Man had been a Yardee when G-Boy first flew with the crew; put his hand up for every Dummy Run as it guaranteed a hit from Zoot’s purse if you made it back in one piece. The Holo Man had a good run, able as he was to push it that bit further than most in the getaway, given that all he cared about, all he lived for was his next hit. Holo had long since crashed and burned, or been disappeared at least, but was not erased from Central Bank; alive, maybe, in stasis, or limbo somewhere...

Drum handed out PACK sticks and pointed to his Palmprint displaying the skidoo park layout atop Berezovsky Towers, as the Float they were riding in pulled up alongside. He was indicating which Zooters the crew would have PACK access to, as G-Boy fitted GridNav VekTex over his right eye socket, enabling him to fly the Grid blind, should it come to that; VekTex being Versatile Electro-Kinetic Technology – Ubiquitous and exhaustive Tex, drawing on the wealth of data held in Central Bank.

“We’re the Dummies here, right?” G-Boy asked Drum directly.

“Listen, I know you guys have had a tough week.” Spider, a recent flyer, was seated beside G-Boy. They’d been out on the Skank together all week. “Shit, three near misses would spook anyone. Zoot wants you to know it aint personal. He put in a word with Tex and there’s a chute on there for you, should you need.” He nodded to the PACK sticks in each of their hands. Addressing the rest of the crew, he added, “For the rest of us, it’s a Free Ride all the way!”

“Favouritism for the lady - Nice work if you can get it, eh, Paintball...?” G-Boy eyed Denny casually, breaking a smile.

“Choke on it, Fuckface.” Spider spat in her defence.

“OK, Skidz Freaks. Let’s fly in the face of freedom.” As Drum raised the side on the Float, G-Boy tensed, hoping the perimeter fencing around the Towers deactivated as planned or they’d all be in for the kind of shock that put Zoot in a suit.

As this was a Dummy Run, hostile skidoo park attendants wielding taser sticks were duly anticipated and dispatched with a minimum of fuss and complication, Spider being adept with the Shuriken; shock-charged and rendering completely immobile the target of an accurate strike. G8-Tor took perhaps too much pleasure from the resistance provided by some over-zealous sap and the Crazy 8’s were gathering by the time he’d finished standing on his victim’s neck.

G-Boy made straight for the Pegasus Speedster he’d clocked on Drum’s Palmprint, disregarding the sham scene of resistance unfolding around him. Once inside, the PACK stick activated the controls. “Good Morning Doctor Uberhalser, please prepare for your journey while we await connection to the Grid.” He looked up in time to see the duo of attendant Crazy 8’s that were monitoring the locale being taken out by Spider; spinning wayward and fried from her Shuriken strike. As she joined him in the vehicle: “Would all passengers please ensure they are securely harnessed before we travel commence.”

Touching the tiny PACK stick into manual override, the Pegasus hummed into life, living up to its name and taking to the air, rising through the green and orange smog of the cityscape before them. “Doctor Uberhalser, while you are considered a priority client,” the soothing female voice of the traffic control network emanated from within the steering stem, “it is to be remembered that use of the manual override facility is not advisable during this busy period of the day.”

“Get her to shut the fuck up.” G-Boy demanded as he gunned the Zooter over the tower-top and down into the sprawl and hum of the rush hour below.

Spider went about her work, PalmTex connecting to the PACK Nav in the Speedster itself and Central Bank remotely.

“I give it about ninety seconds stat before we’re Buzzed for those Crazy 8’s. Ten seconds longer and Pegasus here realises we aint Uberhalser.” G-Boy was zipping through busy fly lanes on the Good Doctor’s priority.

“Who are they calling for Dummies? Like it aint personal; during rush hour??!!?” This was Spider spitting, but without distraction.

“Hey, we got a lucky break: A Doctor with a hot ass rocket; Priority clearance. We might just make it - Diagnostics? Security gizmoes..?”

“It’s top of the range. Some weird shit I aint seen before: water jettison - override, blister bomb in roof compartment – deactivated. Windscreen will blacken as soon as Doctor Uberhalser gets in touch, which will be before the Buzz arrives. Well weird; unusually rapid communications zipping around about these Wings, mang.” G-Boy banked sharp right and dove down through three lanes of traffic. “Way to get us noticed, soldier.” The windscreen darkened to black in an instant and Pegasus ComsTex filled the void. “Here’s Uberhalser.”

A shiny-faced respectabloid appeared on screen where the outside world had been, replete with a shiny grey smock against a plain beige background; dull, even for a recorded message. His recorded voice was no more inspiring; “Please desist from your actions. They are futile. You have stolen a Class Zero State Vehicle and are currently being monitored as a Priority One Pursuit Target: Report to Central Bank for instruction.” The image flickered and the message started over.

G-Boy flew through a busy junction, VekTex enabled but busting shit to luck, he tailspun an OldsMobile into the ensuing carnage left in the Pegasus’ wake. Ploughing through more grouped Crazy 8’s the Speedster emerged from the raging InCity Spillway into less chaotic routeways.

“Weird, weird shit... No. It’s wired like a bomb. It’s basically a bomb.”

Where a traffic stream had slowed entering an OutCity tributary, G-Boy ran the stately rocket into the front end of the lead wagon. Grabbing the PACK stick, he exited the Speedster, leaping onto the roof of the jalopy he’d smashed into with thirty or more stacks of Floaters moving between him and the ground. Reaching round through the window, he grabbed hold of the female passenger by the hair and had almost dragged her through the window when the door came open with her. G-Boy now addressed the driver, “Get out now, or I drop your fucking wife.”

Spider aided in the transition of bodies and, once in possession of the flying shitheap, left the terrified couple on the booby-trapped rocket to their likely deaths.

Spider was unimpressed: “That wasn’t the most intelligent thing I’ve seen you do, back there. I say ‘It’s a bomb’ and you crash us into the nearest available hunk o’ trash."

“Calculated risk...” Replied G-Boy tersely.

“Calculated?” She couldn’t conceal her incredulity. “We should be dead, mang. Dead as dead is dead.”

“...And we’re not. Things are looking up. With a little luck... those Wings blow up... takes the heat off us.” G-Boy pitched the Skymma into a steep descent against Grid regulations and without the Good Doctor’s priority exemption it was a move likely to draw Buzz Cops on their tail. “Time to see if the chute is compatible with this baby, cuz she sure won’t be outrunning no Buzz.”

The parachute provided by Tex threw a blanket of excessive data out to Central Bank regarding their vehicle’s status and position on the Grid, covering everything from code violations to machine override functions; the recently skidjacked auto would appear simultaneously in numerous nearby sectors and its location would require determining prior to being isolated from the Grid. It was hoped this would provide them with sufficient time to earth the wagon and hole up at ground level before the Buzz arrived on the scene. Spider piggybacked the chute onto the owner’s PACK, enabling the chute to open its barrage of techno verbiage and re-direct attention temporarily from them.

“Why did that sucker not blow up in our faces,” Spider’s indignation showed no signs of abating. “Is it on a timer? Fuel gauge activated? Or remotely, by the Doc himself...?”

“Someone out to kill the Doctor...?”

“No. That’s the weird part. The bomb wasn’t rigged up or planted. It was incorporated into the design.”

“Maybe it’s a standard feature. I don’t make a habit of lifting State Goonmobiles, so I wouldn’t know...” G-Boy grounded the skidjacked flyer in as smooth a motion as the old zooter would allow and the two emerged onto the causeway in a seedy, half-derelict, semi-industrial MidCity sector.

Thirty storeys above ground level, an explosion carved apart the early morning rush hour, flaming debris cascading earthward in a domino avalanche effect.

In Spider’s wider eyes, G-Boy caught reflected fiery pinwheels and secondary explosions. “If this is a set-up, I only hope Drum and the others make it out alive.” Her uplifted gaze contrasted starkly with her deflated demeanour.

Extract from Chapter 1 of FOOL'S SACRIFICE: DOMINION CITY BLUES BOOK ONE

I hope you enjoyed that taster teaser, you little freaks.

There's plenty more where that came from...

My aim is to titillate and wow.

I thank you for your time.

Yours deliciously,

Geronimo