Chapter 72 - Gloria's Reckoning, Cypher's Offer, Atlas' Kindness & The Damn Replicator III

It didn't take long before the taxi crossed the Corpo Plaza and entered The Glen. A few minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of the tall, sealed building.

"Wait here, Del. You'll be driving someone to Arroyo soon."

He left the taxi and entered the building through a small, locked mesh door in the wall of cupboards and metal mesh walls that hid the entire entrance area. The electric connection was already there, and now it was up and running.

He stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the 22nd floor. At the moment, the club occupied the top three floors of the building, from the 22nd to the 24th. He planned to change that, however. He wanted to build his personal residence on the top floor to enjoy the night views. He'd share it with an AV landing pad and maybe a small terrace area of the club. A lot of soundproofing and walls would need to be erected for privacy.

Ding!

The elevator doors opened, and he walked out.

The old neon signs were in ruins, only flashing or completely turned off. The wall held the old sign of the club. He continued and walked into the main floor, reaching the main bar that overlooked the large dance floor. The floor had some private booths as well, but that was it.

Most of the lights were broken, but there were still a few, enough to let him see around. He then checked out the upper floor, which was entirely a large bar area, with a lot of seating and some private booths. Then there were the backrooms with more truly private rooms, including the ones Cypher remembered from Johnny's memory.

He looked around in that private room and soon found a cupboard filled with old bottles of gin and whiskey. He checked their markers, and they were indeed pretty old. Older than Johnny Silverhand's time.

"It's shit," Cypher said, shaking his head. "Who the fuck even ran this dump? Those private booths are a joke, man. Are they on scaffolding? We're gonna need a ton of upgrades, but still keep the old vibe, Atlas. As it is right now, like hell we're beating Afterlife."

Atlas manifested in his view, pacing slowly with arms folded. "Agreed, Cypher. But understand, this club predates us by decades. The club had already begun its decline before closure. Naturally, once I complete the renovations, its state will be improved."

"Good, now let's see if those drinks are any good," Cypher said and grabbed a bottle of gin and a bottle of whiskey, and went back to the main floor of the club.

He walked into the bar area near the dance floor.

As he opened the cupboards under the counter, he found most of the old glassware there. "Weird, they left everything behind."

"The city sealed it. The former owners were denied reentry," Atlas stated. "Only what held value was taken."

Cypher nodded and placed a glass on the counter. He removed his black suit jacket, loosened his tie, and folded the sleeves. Then, he poured himself some whiskey. "What are the odds this will kill me?"

"Extremely low."

As soon as he heard that, he downed the small drink in a single gulp. "Aaaaah! Fucking good! I can tell this is the shit! Not the trash they sell these days."

"You are still capable of dying. Eventually, we will come to know."

"Eh, I got Trauma Team's top-tier package. They'll bust straight through the walls for me." Cypher blurted and poured him another drink. He looked over the counter, where Atlas was seated like a good customer.

"Kinda sucks you ain't got a body. Would've been cool to have a drinking buddy."

"I cannot deny that I share the sentiment. I would value the opportunity to taste it. A description, no matter how precise, remains inferior to direct experience, as confirmed by my simulations."

"Yeah, fair. One day, when I get that itch, I'll hook you up with a body you can mess around in. Eat, drink, fuck, the whole package. But honestly, I feel like shit keeping you locked on this planet when you could be out there actually doing something cool.

"But don't worry, when I finally crack building spaceships, I'll make you your own fleet. You can take it out into space, explore, mess around, whatever you're into. Just don't pull a Skynet and we're good."

For a long time, Cypher noticed Atlas was staring at him. He said nothing and kept downing small sips after sips of the fine drink, eventually trying the gin.

"You would do that, Cypher? You would let me go?"

Cypher shrugged. "I mean, far as I can tell, you think, you feel stuff, you're decent to people. Sounds like a person to me, same as me, Judy, or Vik. Hell, maybe even better than us. And you ain't my slave, so why would I keep you locked? You're free to do whatever you want… just help me sort this place out first, cool?"

"Cypher." Atlas suddenly put his virtual hand on Cypher's.

"Holy shit! I can feel it!" Cypher exclaimed. He could feel Atlas' touch.

"Just some simple data I sent to your mind. Still, I will admit, I misjudged you, Cypher."

"Yeah, yo—Wait a sec, what do you mean misjudged?" Cypher exclaimed, looking up. "I've been nothing but a good man… almost."

"Ms. Martinez is here, Cypher. I will revert to speaking through a brainwave interface."

"Get your ass back here, you old clanker. Expla—"

Ding!

As soon as he heard the chime of the elevator, he stopped messing around and stood up sternly in the bartender's place, fixing his tie and hair. At the same time, he took out an extra glass for this new guest.

While he waited, he received the updates from Cypher in his head, learning everything that had happened to Gloria in the past few hours. He was surprised by the legal team, however. He didn't know that law firm, but they seemed legit by how they conducted themselves.

Moments later, he saw Gloria coming from the side, each step showing her nervous state, her hands clamped together in front, her eyes looking side to side before landing on him. She froze for a second, nearly a jolt, then she walked over.

"T-Thank you, Mr. Blackwell."

Cypher said nothing, not even looking at her as she stood in front of him. She was pretty tall, well, height didn't mean much in that age, but she naturally stood close to five-seven, he reckoned. He eyed her from head to foot, her usual attire, but her face seemed more tired than usual.

He poured the second glass of whiskey and slid it on the counter. He still said nothing, only gesturing with his eyes that she should take a seat and drink it.

"I…"

He looked away from her when she tried to speak. Moments later, he heard her sit down on the high seat and take the glass. He looked back only once she had downed it.

He poured her another serving, then one for himself, and finally leaned over the counter. "Why'd you do it, Gloria?"

Cypher watched her go stiff. She was an open book to him thanks to Atlas. He knew every deal she had made behind his back, keeping better chrome from him so she could sell directly to a customer at a higher price. He knew the details of each of those customers.

And honestly, he couldn't wrap his head around why she did it. She was earning good, enough to send her son to Arasaka and still have enough left to eat and live comfortably. She could even move out of the megabuilding as long as he kept at it for a few more weeks.

Yet all it took her to break his trust was weeks.

He knew they weren't that close, or even knew each other much. But still, he had trusted her based on the fact that she seemed a decent person from the lore knowledge he possessed.

"You were making good money, and it kept going up. Day one, I warned you, don't screw me over, and you did exactly that. Gloria, you got any clue what's the hardest thing to come by in this city, the most damn valuable thing in this city?"

Gloria looked at him, eyes big and emotional. Her lips were shut.

"It's people you can trust." He continued drinking. "People you know won't screw you over. People you can actually count on. I did my part, got you outta that mess. Wasn't cheap, but I still did it. I would've done it either way because I thought we were friends.

"One of your own customers is the one who called in Meatwagon. He didn't like what you sold him for that price. When you sold it to me, you were saving yourself the hassle. No pissed customers, none of that bullshit."

Gloria was looking down into her glass, her shoulders hanging low in complete defeat.

"Manuel, must be him," she murmured, and looked up at him. "H-How much… did it cost to… get me out?"

Cypher shook his head. "Wasn't easy, wiping all that evidence off Meatwagon's systems. Getting your charges knocked down to just suspicion. And trust me, you don't wanna know what it cost."

"Atlas, she'll try to find out on her own. Lead her to it."

[I'll do that, Cyph.]

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