Prologue
Sometimes fate can be cruel. That's what I thought the day I met Dallas. If I had known the end of the story, perhaps I would have tried to live it with fewer regrets.
The year was 73 A.D., the upper districts of Drift/one were in turmoil over the election of their new mayor, a former soldier named Jane Denver. Her story was known to many, an excellent Mech-frame pilot, arrogant and outspoken, but loving as a mother to her team. A perfect candidate for the foolish old men of the senate. As important as it may seem, the interest in Drift/one at least for me was focused on another name. Dallas Crow, sentenced by the Private Justice Court to ten years in prison, three of which in preventive isolation. He never told me his real age but on average he must have been between twenty-four and twenty-nine.
He was a cyber fighter with a unique peculiarity, he was a purist, while his opponents were full of mechanical and digital installations, he was pure, zero modified parts. He was considered a suicidal par excellence and yet until his arrest he had not lost a match out of thirty-six contested. Cyber boxing obsessives called him “Monolith” despite his rather slender build, no matter how hard his opponent hit he did not fall, he endured and continued to fight, as if he were indifferent to pain. He could have become a legend, and instead, due to a fight with some of his fans, he became a media target, another example used to distract the masses from the idea of being purists, and it is understandable, in a capitalist world that is based on the use of Tech-frames and other technological implants, an element like him represented a threat.
This is the story of how we met, what we went through, and the sad outcome our actions led to.
Shortly after the official statement regarding his conviction, Dallas was approached by a man, Hayden Smith, the husband of his cousin Lauren, the man was a member of public safety, and the one who had brought him to the gallows. <<So Dallas, look on the bright side, by leaving Lauren’s house you will take the burden off her shoulders, which is a good thing in the end.>> He would have punched him if he had not been restrained by straps and handcuffs. Hayden stared at the anger in the boy’s amber eyes. <<Maybe once you're in there it will be clear what your place is, nothing personal boy, I only care about my wife's safety.>> Dallas looked down, knowing that the man was right. He quickly made peace with his soul and was escorted to the maximum security prison in the Drift/four district. The place was narrow, steel walls separated the various cells in reinforced titanium, inside there were held some of the most dangerous criminals of all the Drift, but he, Dallas, seemed to ignore the flow of events, he spent the first three months of isolation staring at the ceiling, he didn't think of anything, his mind was completely empty and the anger he carried in his heart seemed to have faded. For him that room was a salvation, the hand of God that gave him the gift of serenity, of distance from the world he hated.
Then, a figure arrived. A slender woman, with a crackling aura of ambition. A dark gray suit with a pin depicting the initials “P.S.S.” the private security service, from the thin tech-frames she wore on her face and temples you could deduce she was someone important. The silver-haired woman spoke, addressing Dallas’ cell. <<You probably want to know who I am, well from now on you will call me Commander Kisaragi.>> At those words the boy jumped up from the bed, slamming violently towards the door that separated them from the woman. <<Kisaragi you say? You are the bitch who framed me… forget it. I already got ten years because of you, what do you want now?>>
<<I want what you want, protect your loved ones, get revenge, climb Drift/One and finally become someone relevant.>>
<<Should I believe you? How could I from here and most importantly what makes you think that's what I want?>>
She pressed a file with classified information on Lauren Smith in front of the door's viewing slit. <<Believe me, you will want what I want, you will fight for what I believe in, otherwise everyone will know that for years you have been smearing the complaints and investigations against you thanks to your lawyer who happens to also be your cousin, every time you did an error she went to get beaten up by her husband to make him suspend the cases, I would say that this is enough to destroy the legend that has been created about you.>>
Dallas froze for a few seconds, a shiver running down his spine. <<You… filthy corporate bastard. I guess I’ve no choice, be careful bitch, touch her and my only goal will become to blow your heads off.>>
With this premise the boy was taken out of the prison, led to the administrative headquarters of the P.S.S., an immense building composed of three skyscrapers that towered above Drift/One. The rooms were enormous, the walls painted with dark titanium and bronze, while the rest of the Drift appeared as places in constant change and decay the headquarters seemed to be suspended in time. There Mrs. Kisaragi proceeded to explain their plan of action to him. <<What you will have to do for me is very simple, some people, some Ikigai, threaten the solidity of our group. You will have to find them, infiltrate them and bring them straight to us. Clear as a drop of dew, right>> Dallas sighed. <<Ikigai you said? They are those bounty hunters who carry out an anti-system ideology, aren't you afraid that I might ally myself with them?>>
<<Well, besides chasing your cousin, I have other chains to put around your neck. Trust me, you won't betray me.>>
And he led him into a room with two people, one was Kisaragi's right-hand man, a tall, bald, pale-skinned guy with a highly advanced visor instead of eyes, the other seemed to be a doctor, an elderly woman who seemed to be more machine than human by now. It was an operating room, and the bed in the center looked like it was meant for Dallas, he sighed, looked at his executioner straight into the depths of those blood-tinged eyes, knowing what fate had in store for him.
<<You know boy, fate is cruel to those who don't keep their word, good luck in the slums.>>
