4 – Tier Six

Tony wriggled his fingers, then waved his new hand over the soup, fanning the steam away as he marveled at the sensation. He knew that beneath the nano-molecular enamel was a lightweight, durable titanium-carbide alloy, but the damn thing felt like a real hand. He could feel the air and steam tickling his "flesh," as if there were tiny hairs on the backs of his knuckles. He didn't know how they'd pulled it off, but the tech wizards who'd programmed the micro-haptic field on the cybernetic limb had done an amazing job.

"You like it?" Addie asked, her grin too smug for words.

Tony sighed, clicking his tongue. "Yeah, I like it. Feels like a real arm." He wriggled his fingers again. "Like a real hand."

"Moves like one, too. Your old fingers were so clunky! I can't believe you were able to shoot a gun!"

Tony nodded, smiling. She wasn't wrong. Not only was the new limb more nimble, but it was extremely fast—maybe not as quick as he used to be with his full reflex boost, but it was damn close. He had a good feeling that he'd be able to pull off some of his old quick-draw moves, and as for knife work? It was back on the table.

"How's your soup? Still seems like a strange choice for breakfast."

Tony shrugged, scooping out a spoonful of the rich broth. "It's good. I mean, it had an egg in it, and the broth is just what the doctor ordered." He slurped the spoonful, smiling as Addie watched with a narrowed eye.

"I guess so." She looked out the window, her lips twisting into a faint frown. "It's certainly plenty cold out there."

"Feeling nervous?"

She looked back at him, tilting her head to the side. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're talking about everything except the assessment! Even the weather."

She sighed, slumping down in her chair so her jacket bunched up on her shoulders. "Yeah, I guess I'm nervous. What do you think they'll have me do?"

"Something you'll find easy, don't worry." They'd gone to the SOA office to apply for tier six, and both of them had been flagged for a practical assessment. Now they were killing time, waiting for their appointments.

"You think they'll make me do recon or infiltration?"

"Yep."

Addie kicked him under the table. "I mean, which one!"

Tony took another spoonful of broth, gathering up some of the wild rice on the bottom of the bowl. As he savored it, he looked her in the eye, nodding slowly. He swallowed and said, "I don't know, Ads. Either one will be a cakewalk. You've got Humpty and Lacy ready, yeah?"

She patted the backpack beside her. "Yeah."

"If it's recon, those drones will make it easy. If it's infiltration, just do your little magic trick." He was talking about her uncanny ability to fade. Even she admitted that she was better at it than she ought to be; her tutor, Pyroshi, had told her as much. Of course, he'd also told her that every "Dust adept" had certain knacks, and fading seemed to be one of Addie's.

Addie picked up her fork and pushed the scraps of her waffles around on her plate, smearing the slightly burnt crust through a puddle of syrup. "What about you?"

"Me?" Tony thumped his fist on his forehead. "I'm muscle, so I'll have to fight or shoot." He shrugged. "I'm not worried." He nodded to her plate. "Not good?"

She shook her head. "Overdone." She put her fork down and asked, "What about the other thing? Have you thought about it?"

Tony picked up his bowl and tilted it into his mouth, gulping down the rest of his broth. It was damn good, and he could tell it wasn't out of a can or box. When he put the bowl down, Addie was staring at him, awaiting his response, so he nodded. "Yeah, I thought about it. I think we should consider taking the job. It's a little risky, but it'll give us some cred and, more importantly, an excuse to put some money into the van. I bet we can squeeze the doc for the funds."

"Squeeze, Tony? I don't want to take advantage of her desperation…"

Tony shook his head. "Nah, it's not like that. She wants us to take a risk, and we're willing to give it a try. Thing is, our van's not ready for a job like that. It's in her interest to help with that. It's not like we're spinning some BS to get paid extra. We need to build a compartment into the cargo area and install some shielding. That stuff's not cheap."

Addie frowned, but she didn't argue. After a few seconds, she said, "I'll message her, okay?"

"You afraid I'll be too insensitive?"

"No, it's just that I'm the one who told her we'd consider the job, and I don't want her to get the wrong impression."

"It's fine. I'm just messing around. Go for it."

"I mean, I don't know what the mods to the van are going to cost…"

"Right. So, just give her a heads up that there will be some additional costs associated with the transport vehicle, and make sure she's okay with that. If she agrees, we can get her an itemized estimate."

Addie didn't respond, but her eyes unfocused, and Tony knew she was composing the message on her AUI. He picked up his coffee cup, marveling again at how real his fingers felt as they gripped the little ceramic loop. He wasn't crazy about the color, but it was growing on him. It wasn't a big deal, anyway; he usually wore long sleeves, especially on jobs. Honestly, the color and the arm's inability to modify its appearance were the only things keeping him from considering the cybernetic limb as tier-two tech. In any case, he felt it was solidly tier three.

That line of thought had him daydreaming about the gear he'd lost when Eric stripped and dumped him. In his old life, he'd been considered a tier-two operator, and his gear had reflected that. Still, even then, he'd had bigger dreams. He'd brushed shoulders with a few tier-one monsters, and he'd seen the considerable gulf between what he'd considered top-of-the-line and what those people sported. A tier-one arm, for instance, would probably be powered by Dust, and it would have transformative properties.

He'd seen a guy whose arm looked like a natural human limb but could split into six spike-tipped tentacles in the blink of an eye, all operated by a neural mod that allowed him to control them independently and simultaneously. Another blink of the eye and they'd snap together, morphing into an energy cannon. It was a hell of a mod, just as versatile and a lot more efficient than his old plasma forge—not that he wouldn't give his right arm to get that particular piece of tech back.

"Done," Addie announced.

Tony nodded, pushing himself to his feet. "Shall we?"

"Is it time already?"

Of course, she knew the answer, but Tony humored her anyway. "We're a little early, but we can walk slow."

He led the way through the little restaurant, pushing the door open with a ding of the electronic chime. Outside, he hunched down into the collar of his coat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Addie came out and mimicked his posture, blowing a plume of white fog between her lips. "Sheesh!"

"Yeah. December's no joke in the Blast, huh?" Tony looked up into the gray sky, sure he could see tiny dots of snow swirling on the breeze. It had been like that for days, though, yet there wasn't the faintest speckling of white on the warm concrete. "It's like it's teasing us."

"What?" Addie asked, following his gaze, peering up into the sky.

"The snow!"

"Oof! You don't want it to stick, Tony! This isn't 'Hattan. Nobody's gonna clean the sidewalks for us."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He shrugged, turning to walk toward the corner. "I guess that's a good point. Not very romantic of you, though." Her mouth fell open at his words, and he winked, grinning and lengthening his strides.

"Hey!" she finally cried, hurrying to catch up. She snaked an arm around his elbow and leaned on him as they walked. "I'm very romantic."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Tony just smiled, and they crossed the street. A few more minutes of walking brought them to the building where the SOA had its offices.

"Think they'll take us both at once?" Addie asked.

"Maybe. Either way, we'll be on our own. They don't allow audiences." Tony pulled the door open, and Addie walked through.

Addie started toward the elevator, but then turned to face him, walking backward. "And I don't have to worry about, you know, showing off my talents?"

Tony shook his head, doing nothing to hide the amusement in his eyes. They'd had this same discussion at least two other times. "No, Ads. The SOA has some bureaucratic failings, but one thing they take more seriously than anything else is the anonymity of their members. Your SOA card will be updated with proficiencies, but they don't list individual talents. The AI that records our results will encrypt all the data from your session."

Addie stepped into the elevator, hands still in her pockets as she twisted side to side, clearly dealing with some nervous energy. "I know, I know," she sighed, "I've asked you these questions a million times."

Tony followed her over to the back corner of the elevator and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her against the wall as he leaned over her. "Ads, look into my eyes—"

"Your eye, you mean?"

Tony's lips curled upward on the right side. "Smartass. Look at me." When she complied, peering into his silver iris with her two big, blue eyes, he said, "I promise you, this is nothing. You're making this test into a big deal in your head, but it's going to be a walk in the park. We've been through some shit in the last few months. I mean, some real shit. You get me? Nothing they throw at you will be as hard as that little dinner party gig we did last week."

"Really? But that was eas—"

Tony leaned forward to kiss her, and Addie hungrily returned the affection. When the bell rang, Tony straightened, grinning as he turned to the door. Outside, he led the way to the SOA office, but he glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Feel better?"

Addie nodded almost imperceptibly, smiling as she casually peered through the windows of the offices they passed. When they stepped into the SOA office, she looked pretty relaxed to Tony, so he considered it a job well done on his part. As usual, she kept her gaze down, though, as they moved through the busy waiting room to a pair of open seats. Tony, on the other hand, didn't shy away from making eye contact with anyone who glanced his way.

The crowd was probably ninety percent operators, and the other ten percent were most likely fixers or their reps. None of them looked like much to Tony, and he wished he could impress upon Addie that she was already more experienced and talented than pretty much anyone in that room; there wasn't any reason for her to feel intimidated or out of place.

As much as he wanted her to feel confident, he also liked the way she was so unassuming. He'd worked with plenty of independents when he was with Cross, and he'd seen some big, stupid egos. Maybe that was why Addie had been such a breath of fresh air. He chuckled, sliding into his seat. There was a hell of a lot more he liked about her than her unassuming nature.

Addie nudged him. "What's funny?"

He shrugged. "Just thinking about how you were already twice the operator of any of these clowns." He didn't speak very softly, and Addie elbowed him, eyes wide with panic.

"Hush!"

Tony made a show of glaring around, and when no one spoke up, he looked at Addie and cocked an eyebrow. "Hard to argue with facts, I guess."

"You're in a weird mood, and I'm not sure I like it." She folded her arms and pointedly looked toward the ceiling, focusing on the invisible things her AUI was projecting into her eyes. Tony followed her lead and glanced at the clock on his AUI: 2:12 pm. Their appointment slots were at 2:30.

"Nora, you checked us in, yeah?"

"Yes, the office AI is aware of your presence."

"Addie, too?"

"Yes. JJ and I both registered her arrival."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. He seemed a bit miffed that I'd presumed to register her."

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. PAIs didn't really get angry; they could simulate personalities and the emotions that went with them, but they weren't like real AIs. When Addie looked at him again, head tilted with curiosity, he said, "I think your PAI is mad at Nora."

"Why?"

"She's stepping on his toes, I guess."

Addie snorted, shaking her head. She opened her mouth, no doubt to complain about his cryptic response, but then a chime sounded and a green light lit up above the door labeled "4C – Practicals." A pleasant feminine voice spoke up through a hidden PA speaker, "SOA operative 26779, Ember, your practical is ready. Please proceed through door 4C."

"It's early!" she whispered, scowling.

"All right, you got this, Ads," Tony said softly. "Meet you back here when we're done."

She nodded, pressing her lips together in a somewhat pained-looking smile. "Okay, see you soon." She locked eyes with him for a second, and when he smiled again, she hurried toward the door and pulled it wide. When she'd passed through and it closed behind her, it buzzed, and the green light went out.

Tony sighed and kicked out his feet, leaning back in the chair. He didn't have long to get comfortable, though. Five minutes later, the chime sounded again, and the voice said, "SOA operative 26778, Shepherd, your practical is ready. Please proceed through door 4C."

He stood and saw a bald guy with a chrome jaw throw him a thumbs up. Tony grinned and returned the gesture. He walked over to the door and pulled it open, revealing a long corridor with a single automated metal door on either side about halfway down. A man stood there, between the doors, holding a crystal-glass display. He looked up at the sound of Tony's approach and nodded, squinting through narrow specs with shimmering yellow lenses.

"Shepherd, how are you this afternoon?"

Tony shrugged slightly. "Not bad. You?"

"I'm well, thanks. The day's going fast because we've been busy. You'll be in 4D, here." He pointed to the door on Tony's right. "Go ahead through, and I'll explain your practical."

Tony stepped into a wide, low-lit chamber that smelled faintly of ozone and gun oil. The walls were matte black, ribbed with padded shock panels, and the floor was a smooth, rubberized polymer. A faint grid of LED lines traced the floor and ceiling—inactive for now—but clearly meant to guide movement or mark zones. He counted at least a dozen narrow slits spaced irregularly across the ceiling and floor—flush-mounted openings just large enough to launch targets.

Tony had taken similar tests before. He figured he'd have to shoot as many targets as possible within a given amount of time. There would probably be some targets marked with some kind of symbol he'd need to avoid, too. He turned to the door, waiting for the tech to come through and explain.

The young man walked straight toward a black cabinet mounted to the rear wall. He tapped the keypad. It beeped, clicked, and then he pulled the door wide. "Okay, Shepherd. For your tier-six practical, you'll complete a shooting course designed to evaluate your reflexes, target discrimination, and reaction time." He pulled out a black case and set it on a small table beside the cabinet.

"You won't use your own sidearm for this, but I can assure you this weapon's sights have recently been calibrated. It's a needler with low-velocity ammo. The walls are designed to absorb needler ammo, so it's perfectly safe to use in this room. Are you familiar with this type of weapon?"

"Pistols? Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I meant needlers. It's important to understand that it won't have any discernable recoil with the low velocity cartridges."

"Yeah, I'm familiar."

"Very good." The tech slammed a magazine into the pistol and then pulled back the slide, letting it slam home. It was a slender little weapon, similar to Addie's pistol, but much less elegant. "This weapon will not sync to an AUI, so you'll need to use the sights affixed to the top of the gun. Have you had training in manual sighting?"

"Yeah." Tony held out his red hand.

The tech stared for a moment, but didn't hand the gun over. Instead, he pointed to the area beyond a faintly glowing red line on the floor. "This line marks the start of the shooting course. You may not cross it. Valid targets will emerge from the floor and ceiling at random intervals. You are authorized to fire immediately. Some targets will resemble hostile actors. Others will resemble civilians or marked non-combatants. You will be scored for accuracy, shot placement, target prioritization, and disqualifier avoidance."

"How many rounds in the gun?"

"Forty-eight."

"How many targets?"

"A completed course will have sixteen valid targets."

Tony nodded, wriggling his fingers. The tech relented and placed the pistol's grip in his palm. Tony immediately pulled the slide halfway back, looking into the chamber. He saw the tiny red dot of the needler round's primer. Nodding, he released the slide, then stepped up to the red line. He partially extended his right arm, relaxed his stance, and shifted his feet so he was sideways to the course.

"Ready?" the tech asked.

Tony nodded. "Ready."

A target shot out of the floor just three meters in front of him. Tony pointed the gun at the figure's forehead, but stopped. It was a young girl holding a puppy. "Original," he muttered as another target dropped from the ceiling—a man in a black mask holding an SMG. Tony tapped the trigger twice—fft, fft—and two small holes appeared in the man's forehead. Another rattle sounded to his right, and he shifted his gaze and his arm: a chromed-out banger holding a chainsaw. Fft, fft.

The test went on like that, and Tony was sure to identify hostiles before shooting each time. He didn't know if hitting one of the civilian targets would automatically disqualify him, but he wasn't taking any chances. It didn't matter, anyway; he was moving fast. His new arm was steady and didn't tire. More than that, it was just as fast as flicking his eyes from one target to another.

The farthest target was twenty meters, and he didn't need to use the sights at that distance. He'd gotten a feel for the gun on the very first target, and each subsequent one helped to dial in his aim. None of his shots went astray—two hits to the center of each hostile skull. The test designer tried to trip him up on a couple of targets. One had a ballistic helmet on, and the other had a fully chromed-out skull. In both cases, Tony added two rounds to the center of mass.

In the end, when he handed the gun back to the tech, he thought he saw something like admiration in his eyes as he peered over the top of his specs. "That was damn good, um, Shepherd. I mean, if you don't mind me saying."

Tony chuckled. "Nah, I don't mind."

"You've spent a lot of time on the range, I guess?"

"Oh yeah. I had a range in the building at my old job. An unlimited ammo budget helped, too. I mean, maybe it had a limit, but I never found it." He jerked his head at the shooting course. "When will I hear?"

"You'll have an official result before the end of the day, but I'll tell you right now that you passed."

Tony grinned, holding out a glossy red fist. The tech smiled, exposing pink and teal polymer teeth, and bumped his knuckles into Tony's. "My man."

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