Cyber Witch

Chapter 2.2 - You Can't be too Careful with an Aberrant

[Avia]

I needed more sugar to power my cybernetics, so as the passengers lined up for boarding, I stopped by a nearby auto-vendor booth and selected the last five pouches of Goober Gummies, my go-to sugar source. To pay for them, I pressed the memory crystal ring on my right hand against the booth pay receptacle, debiting from the secure e-credits that I stole from Zach. The biometric linked ring also served as an identification badge, which I easily hacked, if needed. But perhaps most vital to me, it contained an emergency reboot code in case my cybernetic implants failed — a rare event among the enhanced, but it has happened.

The Goober package art featured happy space-themed shapes in various bright colors, obviously targeting children, but I had grown to like them. Unzipping a package, I popped a yellow star shape into my mouth, letting the sweet-tart lemon flavor burst across my tongue.

A shrill cry pierced the low murmurs of the departure lounge. Many narrowed eyes turned toward its source — a toddler boy in blue pajamas who apparently had enough of traveling and wasn't shy about letting everyone know. His young, harried mother, balancing two bags slung across her back and a sleeping baby in a front sling carrier, gulped at the contemptuous glares. Her blonde hair might have been styled at one time, but now was tied back in a frazzled ponytail. The dried crusty remains of regurgitated milk streaked down from one shoulder of her dark t-shirt. My heart went out to her.

"Hush now," she said to her young son, putting a finger across her cracked lips. For a moment, the cry abated as the temperamental child tugged on her leg. She turned back to the shiny customer service android behind the small round desk, pleading, "Isn't there something you can do? We'll be stranded here."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the android replied in a tinny monotone, "but, per policy, your financial status is insufficient to extend credit. May I suggest that you inquire at the central customer service desk for other options?"

Apparently sensing his mother's despair, the boy renewed his wails. More heads turned, displaying disapproving frowns and judgmental narrowed eyes, and the woman's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The cry affected me too, but in a deeper way. The secret Sol Federation agency who put computer chips in my head also made sure that I could never have children, since pregnancy might have inhibited my deadly efficiency. A shadow crossed my heart, cast from the family that I will never have, and I wiped moisture from my eyes. But maybe I can help this family.

Using my cybernetic implants, I extracted the woman's identity from her com-viewer, then searched the info-web. She lived with her children on a faraway world, her husband an asteroid miner operating based on Hephaestus. The outpost attracted many prospectors hoping to strike it rich — most don't. Oh, but he was sidelined with a serious injury, recovering in a local hospital. Unable to work, the bills piled up, and he generated a substantial debt as creditors snapped at his tail, including Omni-Corp's financial division and their predatory loan practices.

No wonder that poor woman couldn't purchase a ticket. We'll see about that...

Hacking into Omni-Corp would take too long, especially with their strong web security, but Zach will come to the rescue, even if he didn't know it. He became such a generous guy when I spent his money. With a few mental manipulations, I purchased tickets for the woman and her children, then wiped out her husband's debt using money I pilfered from the Hunter accounts. Finally, I wiped clean my digital tracks.

The woman turned back to the service android, another desperate plea on her lips, but the robot spoke first. "Oh, I see, ma'am. The tickets have come through, and you may now board at any time. Thank you for flying with Galaxia Spaceline, a division of Omni-Corp."