2: Expected Friction

Data was everywhere for those who cared enough to look for it. In the wires. In the air. In whispered conversations in dark alleys. In the VorteXian cyberspace accessible only to those willing to pay.

CyberFantasia. What an accurate name. Dreamworld for the addicts. Bezel thought, her metal eyes glued to the monitors, displaying all sorts of communications, looking for the tiniest of disturbances. The eyeballs were programmed to properly receive and sift through visual info and right now, she was watching to see if the screens changed. If it did, it meant that something had happened differently and therefore, was the work of a Non-Reset.

There.

In the police airwaves, a new signal had emerged. He singled out the disturbance and listened: “Initiating pursuit. Culprit in an Endeavor 256 breaking speed limit and flying outside sky lanes.”

An Endeavor 256! This was worth reporting. She switched on the comm module.

“Rage, man, you there. I got somethin. Ain’t that his car?” She transferred over the signal and its geolocation.

Rage replied after a pause: “Yeah it is. Good stuff, Bez.” And then he cut off the comm call. Bezel went back to her screens.

………..

While carjets can go fast, policejets are made for that very purpose. It didn’t take much time for the cop to catch up with Zalez and shoot out a short pulse to kill his Endeavor’s engines. It slowed to a halt and the cop flew up beside him. Over the mounted speakers of his jet, the cop ordered: “Fly down to a carport. Any attempt to flee or disobey shall result in your vehicle being shot down.”

Zalez thought if he just acted cool, he might get out of this situation.

Why am I worried? This should be a good thing. I'll ask the cops to help me out.

With a different resolve, Zalez flew down the carjet on auxiliary power with the cop following just behind. He checked his antique pistol for bullets. Just in case it was needed.

In the policejet, the cop had his monitor switched on, looking for something on the waves. Specifically, he was looking for the VorteXia signal, his generous benefactors. They were always willing to pay him if he had something that they wanted.

There it was. The VorteXia channel. He singled it out and activated its audiovisual interpretation. It was encrypted but he did not want to read anything. He just wanted to add his own info on the waves.

Endeavor 256. And he hit send.

………..

Elsewhere. Earlier.

The boardroom was below the topmost floors that were both Savexil’s office and home. In its center lay a lengthy rectangular wooden table with space for 12 people on either side. It was an expensive thing, as genuine wood was hard to come by those days and on the table was a large box. Big enough to fit inside a person and that is exactly what was in there. The box meant that this was an Icebox meeting.

At the table's head lay an antique armchair with decorations that depicted vines and roots and in the center a sun with a smiling face. A throne would be a better way to describe it.

This table of 24 was occupied by four people who were physically present and the Holoavatar of the fifth member of VorteXia’s Board of Directors. They had all been summoned by their boss and now awaited him.

The pale, gaunt man in a simple office uniform sitting closest to the head of the table was getting impatient. Artor Velgrave didn't like these meetings as they always ended in violence. He despised the sight of blood or gore so he wished he could just leave. Mr. VorteXia had never been so adamant about such things but the son was so different compared to him. The father had trusted him enough to let him handle all of the Corporations accountancy. The young Savexil didn't seem nearly as trusting as his old man.

Beside him was a man with a single ear, Ruben Varzteg, paranoid as always. His eyes darted all over the room like a meerkat's. If it had been anyone else it might have come off as odd but not for Ruben. Paranoia was part of his job as pest control. He took care of rat infestations within the organization itself and the box on the table was his work. On each day of the reset, he brought a different person if he could, each with something or else that made him worth subjecting to the Icebox.

"Settle down Ruben my boy. You seem a little too much on edge today." Came the booming loud voice of the giant old man on the other side of the table. "You too, Artie, young man."

"Don't call me 'Artie', old man!"Artor snapped at Old Man Jarvin, clearly no longer able to hold back his annoyance. "And what's even the point of this?"

He pointed to the box on the table. He then hit the table with his palm and stood up.

Ruben, who felt insulted, hissed back at him, "If you do not appreciate my work, tin can, you're quite welcome to piss off."

"Don't forget who funds your entire existence, Rat Sniffer."

"I don't get where all that big boy talk is coming from cuz I sure as hell ain't working for you. Maybe I'll put you in the Icebox next. Tell Mr. Savexil that useless piece of scrap metal Artor was a rat all along." Ruben chuckled at the prospect, his laughter coming out more like coughs than actually a laugh.

"Oi Oi boys, no need to grab each other's throats." Old man Jarvin said, as he too got up, towering over the rest due to his height. Even though he was much older than the rest of the room, not counting Genx07 Hakaba, who sat in a far-off corner from the rest of them, they feared and respected him due to his insane strength. Severe body training all his life coupled with whatever modifications modern technology presented had made Jarvin one of the strongest men on the planet. One of the oldest too if Genx07 was ignored. And it was easy to ignore him as he barely spoke and remained in his corner, his hand on the katana by his waist and his face emotionless. He and Aura were the only Non-Resets among them.

Both Ruben and Artor sat back silently, going back to what they were doing earlier. Ruben looked around the room like a meerkat, while Artor looked for some other reason to be annoyed. He found it in the form of the fifth member, Aura Bloodlock, the one who never showed up at these meetings. It was always her HoloAvatar, this time a pale blue woman with pink hair beneath a huge pointy hat wearing a gray robe with leafy patterns on it. Every time it was different and every time her HoloAvatar remained inactive until Savexil showed up. She was the newest member of the Board of Directors, brought in by Savexil himself and the others didn't know much about her.

"What's she supposed to be this time?" Artor said. "Can't she just be her normal form?"

"A witch, Artie my boy."

"A what?" Artor ignored the 'Artie', knowing it was pointless to argue with the old man.

"A witch. Oi Oi don't tell me you don't know what that is?" Old Man Jarvin actually seemed a bit disappointed.

Artor didn't reply but Jarvin continued anyway. "A witch, my boy, is someone who can do magic. They are as cunning as they are beautiful in the stories. Though in the stories my father read to me they were always ugly and scary."

Jarvin went on ranting about witches and his childhood in the way old men often do. Artor pretended to listen but lost track of what was being said. He didn't want to argue with Old Man Jarvin. He still remembered the time when he had angered him. He had been grabbed by the leg and thrown so hard out of the headquarters that he had woken up all bloody and bruised in some other building.

When Old Man Jarvin had stopped talking, Artor began his barrage again, "Shouldn't she be subject to the same rules as us? Why does the new boss give her so much free reign?"

"No No my boy that won't do! Not at all." Old Man Jarvin's looked grave and Artor grew pale.

What did I say now? Why can't I just shut up? Sweat rolled down his forehead as his inner voice belittled him.

"Artie my boy, you can't think of the young master like that. 'New boss'." He scoffed. "He's not to be called that, you hear me? He is The Boss now. You get me, boy?"

Old Man Jarvin seemed pretty serious now as Artor had struck a nerve within him. He had been loyal to Savexil's father all his life and that had transferred over to the son.

Before something regretful could have happened, an ethereal female voice spoke from a speaker in the Holoprojector fixed to the roof, "It seems you don't like me Artor! Weird, coming from a guy who trusts me with his memories each day."

The witch was awake, her large green eyes staring intently at Artor.

"It's not like that." Artor began defending himself. "I—umm—it's just that—uh you know—we deserve to know more about you. We trust you enough with our memories of each reset. Don't you trust us?"

She did not answer him. Her eyes went out of focus and her face went to its default state. A look of serene contemplation.

"Hey! Aura?" Artor asked. "Where'd she go?"

Her HoloAvatar had gone offline.

“Ummm” Artor hesitated.

"Oh, Savexil's gonna love this." She clapped her hands soundlessly and laughed. It sounded like a handful of coins dropped into a fountain.

Artor asked the question on everyone’s minds, "What is it?"

She didn't answer him, instead gave him a conspiratorial wink and rose.

"Savexil is here." She announced in her sugary voice.

The metal doors behind the throne-like armchair automatically slid open to let in Savexil VorteXia. They rose, everyone except Old Man Jarvin, and greeted the boss who sat down at the table's head.

Having settled down, he sighed, "Well let's get this meeting started. Who do we have in the Icebox today?"