Catwalk: Messiah Read Online Free
Author: Nick Kelly
for you to head out, my man. Press is already pounding at the gates for answers I ain’t got.”
“You’re not the DI on this?”
Will shook his head. “Nope, jurisdiction went immediately to CorpSec for TransTechnica when they got the kill. That’s odd, since they only engaged when it crashed onto their parking garage after three other companies wounded it. They’ve been fighting for the credit, which is how I got to sneak you in here.”
“Much obliged, baldy.”
“Shock you and your family. Now, get out of here before I have to toss you into a slab just to hide you.”
Cat silently obeyed, rushing out with his newfound information. This thing came from a manufacturer Will couldn’t identify quickly which meant a rogue company, a lunatic one-off, or the beginnings of something big. Hell, Will was a specialist in MH autopsy and analysis, a recent field added to the science of forensic pathology.
If Will didn’t know, something very strange was beginning to unfold, and the images Cat had just snapped were going to open the first doors to its revelation.
CHAPTER THREE
“Shockin’ son of a motherless whore!”
Cat chucked the wooden practice sword across the loft, wincing slightly at the sound of breaking glass when it impacted with his bar. He stared at the newsfeed, which seemed tailor-made to ruin his day.
“…and under the pressure of local Security Forces, Nanoengineering Institute, Inc., has immediately cut all funding to its Military Neurotechnology Research branch. This will mean layoffs of almost 200 highly educated and well-paid scientists. The Institute’s legal representation has stated in clear and concise fashion that the margin for error with the research branch’s experiments has cost far more than they had allowed in this fiscal budget, and therefore the risk had exceeded the benefits to the company’s long-term business plan.” The reporter droned on with a delivery usually reserved for test programs and Off-World terminal notifications about the “motorized walkway is coming to an end.” Cat wanted to commit violent acts against the face on the Holoscreen, but deep down, he knew that would forfeit more of a paycheck than he wanted.
Instead, he followed the path of the wooden projectiles to the bar, happy to clean up any unceremoniously opened bottles of indulgence. The news broadcast confirmed what he’d found from the serial numbers. The NII was certainly the official manufacturer of the rogue Meta, but there was something screaming at him about the nature of its sudden rampage. And, despite three days of media coverage, no one save Will himself had even mentioned the rather unique artwork on the MH’s palm. That led Cat to believe this wasn’t a test subject gone bad, rather, it was an anomaly, something meant to stay off the record.
He cursed, shooting a glance over to the H-S. He wanted to ride, to clear his head, and get the hell out of the loft. The research part of the job wasn’t his passion. He had a partner for that. Correction. He formerly had a partner for that. He made a note to confirm a meeting with the new candidate. He preferred investigating first hand. It was, after all, where the excitement was. With a snarl, he picked up the comm. There were some headhunters on his contact list. The first step was to start scrubbing the database for the suddenly unemployed RII scientists.
The scientist stared at the Holoscreen. The image of the MetaHuman—his MetaHuman—filled the screen as the news replayed the destructive scene from downtown. The reporter’s polished voice went on about funding cuts and layoffs at NII, responsible for the rampage that killed.
He switched off the sound and watched the MetaHuman fall after armored vehicles and security forces unloaded a barrage of ammunition, enough to take down a small army, into it.
Impressive.
He scowled at the screen, a sneer crossing his scarred lips.
Too bad NII shut down his department.
“You’re not the DI on this?”
Will shook his head. “Nope, jurisdiction went immediately to CorpSec for TransTechnica when they got the kill. That’s odd, since they only engaged when it crashed onto their parking garage after three other companies wounded it. They’ve been fighting for the credit, which is how I got to sneak you in here.”
“Much obliged, baldy.”
“Shock you and your family. Now, get out of here before I have to toss you into a slab just to hide you.”
Cat silently obeyed, rushing out with his newfound information. This thing came from a manufacturer Will couldn’t identify quickly which meant a rogue company, a lunatic one-off, or the beginnings of something big. Hell, Will was a specialist in MH autopsy and analysis, a recent field added to the science of forensic pathology.
If Will didn’t know, something very strange was beginning to unfold, and the images Cat had just snapped were going to open the first doors to its revelation.
CHAPTER THREE
“Shockin’ son of a motherless whore!”
Cat chucked the wooden practice sword across the loft, wincing slightly at the sound of breaking glass when it impacted with his bar. He stared at the newsfeed, which seemed tailor-made to ruin his day.
“…and under the pressure of local Security Forces, Nanoengineering Institute, Inc., has immediately cut all funding to its Military Neurotechnology Research branch. This will mean layoffs of almost 200 highly educated and well-paid scientists. The Institute’s legal representation has stated in clear and concise fashion that the margin for error with the research branch’s experiments has cost far more than they had allowed in this fiscal budget, and therefore the risk had exceeded the benefits to the company’s long-term business plan.” The reporter droned on with a delivery usually reserved for test programs and Off-World terminal notifications about the “motorized walkway is coming to an end.” Cat wanted to commit violent acts against the face on the Holoscreen, but deep down, he knew that would forfeit more of a paycheck than he wanted.
Instead, he followed the path of the wooden projectiles to the bar, happy to clean up any unceremoniously opened bottles of indulgence. The news broadcast confirmed what he’d found from the serial numbers. The NII was certainly the official manufacturer of the rogue Meta, but there was something screaming at him about the nature of its sudden rampage. And, despite three days of media coverage, no one save Will himself had even mentioned the rather unique artwork on the MH’s palm. That led Cat to believe this wasn’t a test subject gone bad, rather, it was an anomaly, something meant to stay off the record.
He cursed, shooting a glance over to the H-S. He wanted to ride, to clear his head, and get the hell out of the loft. The research part of the job wasn’t his passion. He had a partner for that. Correction. He formerly had a partner for that. He made a note to confirm a meeting with the new candidate. He preferred investigating first hand. It was, after all, where the excitement was. With a snarl, he picked up the comm. There were some headhunters on his contact list. The first step was to start scrubbing the database for the suddenly unemployed RII scientists.
The scientist stared at the Holoscreen. The image of the MetaHuman—his MetaHuman—filled the screen as the news replayed the destructive scene from downtown. The reporter’s polished voice went on about funding cuts and layoffs at NII, responsible for the rampage that killed.
He switched off the sound and watched the MetaHuman fall after armored vehicles and security forces unloaded a barrage of ammunition, enough to take down a small army, into it.
Impressive.
He scowled at the screen, a sneer crossing his scarred lips.
Too bad NII shut down his department.
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