Chapter Text
The truck was dark in a city of bright lights. The tyrant glow of the city forced everyone into the light. Cache and her driver ran with tinted windows, the kind that were illegal but only if you were somewhere in the city where cops still cared about busting people for little things like that. That is to say, nowhere.
Cache checked her pistol. “Hate guns.” she mumbled. “Messy.”
“Useful, though.” Overload said as she drove. She was one of many victims of blimptech. Their stories were all the same; young women who had grown addicted to fast food and sugary drinks. Overload was nearly four hundred pounds, and it showed in her huge belly that almost blocked the steering wheel.
“Sure.” Cache, on the other hand, was rail thin and breastless. She’d been clever, avoiding triple decker burgers and chocolate sodas whenever she could. It was a lifelong effort for women in this city. Her black hoodie was a size too big, to hide what little curves she had. Her hair was chopped in a short pixie cut, and only some eye makeup decorated her face. She liked to look androgynous, it made it less likely for her to stand out.
Overload loudly farted. “‘Scuse me. I get a nervous stomach whenever we do a job this big.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cache muttered as rotten eggs filled the cabin. Of course, Blimptech snacks make you gassy. She tucked her gun back into her waistband and now checked her more important weapon; her pocket computer. “We’re about to strike back at the corp that made you like that.”
“Yeah. Damn right. We’re gonna spit in their damn eye.”
“You ever seen the CEO? ‘Mr. Thane’? He doesn’t make TV appearances, right?”
“No. He must be a freak, right?”
“Must be.”
The truck pulled up outside of Blimptech tower. “Okay, get in, get out. I’ll pick you up at the rendezvous spot.”
Cache nodded, pulling her hood up and pressing a button on the breast. The cloth shimmered as she stepped out into the rain, breaking up her silhouette with a distortive cloud. Then, she ran to the back maintenance door and punched in a code, ripped from hi-def security footage months ago. Overload’s plateless truck rolled away onto the highway. It was just her now. The door sprung open, and Cache walked into the backroom. It was a filthy series of janitor closets and maintenance hatches, layered in dirt and unknowable grime. Of course they didn’t keep these places clean, this was for the help. Cache grit her teeth. She’d been working class her whole life, and her anger never cooled on that.
She entered the maintenance hatch and slipped inside. It was narrow, so narrow that even Cache’s skinny form struggled to fit. She was too far along in the plan to be claustrophobic now. She climbed, then found the room that she’d come so far for. The server room.
She opened the hatch very carefully, and looked down to see a laser grid, several auto-turrets, and motion sensors lining the floors and walls.
Cache grinned. They actually thought that could stop her.
She pulled out her pocket computer, punched in a quick command, and every security feature went down. Her hack was even so ingenious that the overwatch systems wouldn’t see the security systems had gone down. Sometimes, she even impressed herself.
Cache jumped, landing on the smooth steel floor. The server banks were glowing towers of possibility, mirrors of the outside world. So much opportunity, all controllable from Cache’s pocket. She giggled girlishly to herself. Time to strike back.
She plugged her pocket computer into one of the banks and started loading up her virus. It was going to take down all of Blimptech's computers across the globe. It would take them at least a few weeks to replace all that hardware, and by then, their stock would plummet so much that no one would ever buy from Thane again. He’d have to get a job at a fast food restaurant, just like she had. Cache was going to be a hero. It would only take a minute.
Cache imagined the world without blimptech. It would be wonderful. She closed her eyes...
Then opened them again as a siren went off.
“FUCK!” She shouted. Still fifty seconds on the upload. Could she abandon it here? No, that was evidence. God, god... in desperation, she slapped the side of the server, despite all of her education telling her that this did nothing. Percussive maintenance was a primality that never went away.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck...”
There was a choked mechanical growl coming from down the hallway. Security drones were here already.
Thirty seconds. She needed thirty seconds.
She pulled out her gun and pointed it at the door with a shaky hand. A wolf-like drone burst through the door, growling at the sight of Cache. It looked hungry. Why had they programmed a robot to look hungry?
She pulled the trigger.
click.
She’d left the safety on.
The wolf leapt towards her, spraying some sort of chemical in her face that made her go limp and fall to the floor. The last thing she saw before passing out was the tail of the drone yanking the cable of her computer out of the bank.
“No...”
Cache woke up, surprised by how awake and aware she felt. She was in a white office overlooking the city, sitting before a beastly desk made from white oak. It was decorated with several artistic depictions of rubenesque women, either in painting, sketch, or statuette.
She read a name plate. Mr. Thane
“Oh, god...”
No one sat in the plush chair that probably cost more than all of Cache’s apartment. She was here alone, When she tried to sit up, she realized she was bound to her chair by a pair of ropes. She was wearing a new outfit. Her black hoodie and jeans had been replaced with a purple dress that showed an awful lot of cleavage, or it would, if Cache had much. She wiggled in the chair, trying to get free. If she could just get one hand free...
A door opened behind her, and she whipped her head trying to see who or what it was.
The woman had long blonde hair, large breasts that strained against a bikini top, and a huge pregnant belly. Stretch marks made her tummy look like a geographical map.
“Oh, hi, you’re awake!” she said with a grin.
Cache stopped wiggling. “I have very powerful friends. You don’t want to keep me here.”
The woman put on a very confused face. “Don’t you worry, honey, Mr. Thane is coming soon, ‘kay? Can I get you a drink of water or something?” she had a gorgeous smile, clearly modified. She rubbed her belly while she talked.
“No. I’m not putting anything in my body that blimptech’s made.”
“Aw... you’re a cute one.” She pinched cache’s cheek. “He’ll like you. I’m excited for you!”
fuck. I have got to get out of here...
“You pregnant? He makes you work?”
She looked down. “Of course, silly. Being pregnant is my work.” She patted her belly. “Isn’t it cute? I’m having twins!”
“You look disgusting.” Cache spat. She always hated the idea of being pregnant.
“Okay, sweetie. You just sit tight, I’ll send him in.”
The assistant picked a file up from the desk and waddled out of the room. Cache heard her say “Sir, your 9:00 is ready.”
9:00? Was it already? God, Overload was probably waiting. Or she’d gone back to the hideout by now...
Cache nervously waited nearly thirty minutes before the door opened again. She wiggled intensely, kicking at the desk out of pure frustration. She made the name plate bounce and fall over, which made her feel very slightly better.
Mr. Thane gave an impression of someone who should have been carved from marble. He looked intentional, like he was sketched by an artist. He wore a t-shirt and slacks, surprisingly casual for one of the wealthiest people on earth.
“Hello. How are you?”
“Fuck you. Eat shit and die. I hate this dress.”
Mr. Thane sat down and adjusted the name plate on his desk. “Well, that’s a shame. I’ll see if I can have something else brought for you.”
“You can’t keep me here, you fucking creep, you know that right? You can’t just hold people prisoner.”
Mr. Thane sorted through his desk. “You know, I’ve asked Aliza to sort through this desk a thousand times, and she never does... maybe you’ll get around to it one of these days.”
“Hey, are you listening to me, shitface? You fucking cunt? YOU. CAN’T. KEEP. ME. HERE.” She kicked his desk with every word, making it rattle and knocking over one of his paintings. He calmly reset everything that had clattered over, one by one, then turned to address Cache.
“Your name is Mo Nuson, right? Born in the stacks, got in with a bad crowd as a teenager, started as an online activist, followed the pipeline into being a digital terrorist. Personal vendetta against me because of all your friends who got fat eating food I made? Knocked down a few chain restaurants, thinking you were doing something? Do I have that right?”
Cache was startled by how accurate that was. “Nope.” She lied, trying not to look surprised.
“Your online name is Cache, and you tried to upload a cute little virus to my systems.” he touched a fingerprint sensor. A monitor rose mechanically from the surface of his desk. He clicked a button on his keyboard and it rotated to face her, showing a breakdown of all the components of her virus program. She’d been working on it for years, trying to make it completely airtight.
And it was covered in criticisms. Highlighted spots where she’d made holes, been sloppy, used old techniques that any security system would see.
“It’s cute, as I said, but... of course, not up to snuff for my security. Even if you’d been able to upload it.”
“H-how did you... who did you...”
“I’ve dabbled in programming.” He spun the monitor back around. “Anyway, what was it you were saying? I can’t keep you here, right?”
She nodded, a little dumbstruck and intimidated.
“I don’t plan to. You’re free to leave, of course.”
“I’m tied here, you fuck.”
Thane steepled his fingers and laid back. “That’s protection for you. I want to make sure you’re aware of what is going to happen next, if you decide to leave. Once you step out that door, I’m going to hand this file...” he held up a piece of physical paper with “NUSON, M.” written on it, “to my beautiful assistant. Included in here is all the documentation and security footage that you thought you disabled. Then, she will alert the authorities. Corporate sabotage, digital assault, attempted economic destabilization. I’m not too up to date on my legislature, but with a top notch lawyer, I’d say that’s sixty years in an iso-cube and a cool billion in damages. If you end up with a public defender, which given your economic status I’d say that’s more likely, that’s life in the cubes, and billions in debt for your family and friends.”
Mo imagined her little brother. He was smart and had a chance to go to college. He wanted to be a doctor. If he got slammed with this debt...
“Or, if you decide, of your own accord, of course, to stay on as a new summer hire who I decided to graciously lift out of poverty, then I’ll go ahead and tuck this file somewhere else, and we’ll forget all this ever happened.” Thane turned and started typing at his computer.
Cache saw the crest of Thane’s manipulation. He hadn’t even had to lift a finger to do this. Just talk and gather information. And now, she was in a true snafu. The iso-cubes were bad, but she’d made peace with the idea of getting arrested a while ago. But all that debt would enslave her family to blimptech for at least three generations.
“O-okay. I’ll work for you.”
“Good. Here’s a contract, sign it please.”
She didn’t read it. It wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter.
“...how many people have you done this to?”
Thane didn’t answer. “First order of business, go to the cafeteria and get them to feed you up. You’re very thin, and it doesn’t fit our employee appearance policy. Then, I want you to clock in and report to your office. The assistants will help you find it. Thank you for your time, Miss Nuson.”
“C-cache. My name is Cache.”
“Cache. Sure. Cafeteria’s just down the hall.” Thane didn’t care. She felt like she’d been rapidly swept across a carpet and forgotten by some giant. Her life had just completely changed, and there was nothing she could do.