A Broken Man

Six silver streaks tore through the air. These stones, loosened from the rings that orbited the planet, were dragged to the surface. They illuminated the sky like the millions of stones that fell before them and the millions that will fall after them. They ignited as they rushed against the air that enveloped that planet and combusted into silvery light that ripped white lines through the sky, like an animal’s claws shearing through a bolt of black cloth. Other than that, the sky was empty. It had always been empty save for the lines of white that streaked the sky every night. The pitch blackness of the night made the city of Silverstone feel safer. Blots of purplish light lined its streets from the rim of the crater to the city’s epicenter.

A man saw these streaks tear across the sky from an alley in the district of Goldstone, scorching themselves in the atmosphere and crashing to the planet. When these stones finally made landfall, they would be captured by some wealthy noble family to augment a relic. It was just the way of things. The world moved in predictable patterns. The powerful stayed powerful and the weak didn’t have a chance.

Despite the light that polluted that sky around the city of Silverstone, the comets and meteorites falling to the planet could still be seen through the haze of man-made light. The city itself was founded in the massive crater created by the impact of a massive stone that still rested at the center of the city. That stone apparently did not deserve the same butchering that fueled the empire’s economy. The first people who found that stone worshiped it, called The Stone, and built a temple around it. Then those temple-builders claimed they could talk to the Stone, people believed then, and the Stone-talkers built a whole society around themselves where they were the powerful ones. They turned their kids into walking statues that let them pull the strings that moved the Empire. At least, that’s what Cleft had heard.

They sold the world on that power too. The city sat at the center of the largest empire in the world. An epicenter in and of itself that spread across this continent and the planet’s oceans. An empire built on magic that came from that Stone, and all of the stones crashed into the planet.. Cleft thought that Stone-talking was bullshit. Stones didn’t talk to you. They communicated with a person, even the cheaper reliks, made from metals found within the planet, told people things, but not with words. Of course, the Stone had power but nobody could truly make out what it was telling them so that they could make a religion out of it. The Stone was a tool to be used and the people who got here first got to decide how they wanted to use the power. Cleft’s first instinct would not have been to build a temple around it, but maybe that’s why he was a shit stain on the side of this crater and not living in the Epicenter.

Those Church-men and their power trips were the reason why he was in this alley tonight. Church-men did use The Stone. They parceled it out like they were managers on pay day. They gave a little to those who did right by them, and kept most for themselves. And here he was, miles away from the epicenter, waiting for someone who apparently skimmed off of the top. He was waiting for a client with a Relic. Without a k. The real deal. This was not a job that Cleft wanted, but he didn’t have a Relik. This job was dangerous. The Church-men get very touchy when their relics go missing. But Cleft had a mouth to feed, and no one else was going to feed it for him.

Cleft looked out of the alley and down the sloping street to a clocktower. It was late. The client was late. Fifteen past the 26th bell. The street was empty, violet light irradiated from the streetlights. Not the best bulbs, but this Goldstone. The only gold was in the name.

Cleft felt a click in his brain, like a plug going into a socket. He looked upslope and saw his Relikary, Stiledo stepping towards him. Stiledo was a thin, sharp man. He was as tall as Cleft, but Cleft imagined he was half his weight. He wore long sleeved clothing that covered a majority of Relik implants that spiraled up his arm. Stiledo had had a tremendous amount of werk done on him. Even though he covered most of his body, you could still see the implants. Lines of steel and aluminum streaked up the side of his neck, over his jawline and to his temples. His eyes were white and pupiless. The metal lines on his head and neck glowed a faint, dust, almost opaque white. A pendant of 6 rats facing outward with their tails tied together in an impossible knot dangled over his chest. It was the crew relik: The Rat King.

It was a small thing. It is a stupid-looking relik. Stiledo killed Markees for it. And Markees had killed some no name for it. And that cycle had continued since some academy drop-out decided to focus enough Stellar Energy to charge this piece of street art into a battery that could power the implants of six or seven gangers. At least, Cleft thought they came from some academy kid. They had first shown up a few years ago. No one knew where from, but it had changed the game for the gangs of the city.

“He late?” Stildeo clipped.

“Nah. He came and went. Yeah, he late.”

“Good. Changing of the plan.”

“Change?”

Dull white light whispered out of his ears. He looked down the sloping street and his pupils returned and he stared down it, past the violet light that blanketed the street.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon though. I hear him. Can’t talk long. Take him upslope. Towards the Westslope elevator. Udder and Grumble’ll be there. Take the relic with them. Don’t do it on yer own.”

“We pay him?”

Stiledo squinted his eyes at Cleft. “With what? You think I got fucking church money?”

“Take it where?”

“Take it back to me.”

“And the client? I ain’t got the kit to deal with him”

“You don’t. You, Udder, and Grumble’ll deal with him. I give you this.” Stiledo held the Rat King between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s got enough charge to do some bruising, but then it’s done. I charged all day.”

Stiledo handed the Rat King to Cleft. As he touched it, a faint patter echoed in his head; a shallow, anemic heartbeat in his skull, like a sick animal. The iron stripes that circled his biceps vibrated and steel lines on the outside of his legs twanged slightly as his body directly connected to the relik. The vibrations made him feel his teeth. He twinged.

“Boss…Nah, I don’t like this.”

“Don’t give a shit. I want the relic and the dandy was dumb enough to walk into me. If you want those pieces, you got to be more than bracelets, you get the relic with Udder and Grumble.” Stiledo slid in the alley and disappeared in the shadows of the streets.

Cleft put the relik in his pocket. He didn’t have to wear it and it would probably freak out the dandy to see his escort with the relik and not the boss. He didn’t have any kind of sense kit like Stiledo did, that shit cost too much and made you look too much like a Bot.

Cleft waited in the alley and heard the single pair of footsteps approach the alley. A small person came into view. He was hooded, but that cloak was fancy. It was dyed and that looked like real color, not the artificial stuff you get in a store up here. Cleft couldn’t see more than the cloak because he had a foot and a half on the little man. The man was holding a case in his left hand, slightly covered by his cloak.

“Cleft.” Cleft said.

The man looked up at him, perplexed -- it wasn’t a man, it was a kid. He had soft skin, like it had never been touched by the sun. The kid’s implants could barely be seen on his pale skin.The kid had a single strand of silver flowing from the outside corner of his right eye and down his cheek and throat, and continuing into his torso. It was not like any of the implants Cleft had ever seen before. It looked natural in a way, like a plant’s roots. It was made of a metal that Cleft had never seen used before. It didn’t look pure, but like an ore in a way. Relik implants were all bold blocky lines in order to make the conduction of Stellar Energy more efficient.They were usually made of iron, copper, steel, or aluminum (if you could afford it) and they were usually over the skin.

The kid got flustered.

“What? He paused. “You are the contact?” Cleft did not like how any of the words in that question were said. This kid didn’t know shit, but he sounded like he thought he knew a bunch of shit.

“Yeah.”

There was a silence as the kid seemed to expect something more.

“Do you have the money?” How did this shit think this thing worked?

The kid was wearing a lot of coverage. A long thick leather coat, slacks, heavy boots. None of the stuff looked like it fit. The kid did not look comfortable in the clothing. Though the thinking was smart, Cleft didn’t know if he had implants or not. He was probably linked to the relic even if he planned to actually sell it. Cleft would’ve done that too.

“Do I have the money? Nah. I take you to the money.”

“Take me somewhere else? Where I assume you will rob me? That was not the plan, Mr. Stiletto indicated at all in our meeting yesterday. He said that I would meet his contact at --”

“Plans change. I ain’t taking that thing out in the open. People watch. We’re going to…” Cleft thought “...neutral territory. If you don’t trust me, then I guess you just walk back to where you took it in the first--”

“No!” He screeched. It echoed through the empty streets. He looked behind himself. The kid looked scared, pitiful.

“Follow me.” Cleft said. He started to walk upstreet, he stopped and turned back to the boy. “And shut up. I hate how you sound.” He started walking again, and light steps quickly followed behind him.