Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles (6 page)

"Give me a break.  Those things never work," she replied.

It was true that tech startups had stopped researching AI hundreds of years ago and switched to selling advertisements to each other, as that was the basic foundation of the economy of the outer colonies.  But somehow Marcus had made a technology breakthrough in the process of hacking death.  Was this the future of AI, perhaps?  Not even Felix Navi Dod had made such progress in the field.

I shook my head to clear it and get back to the situation at hand.

"It does too work!  Watch.  Ahem.  Marcus!" I announced.  "Marcus, what's the weather today?"

"What the fuck you thank, boy?" yelled Koochy.  "I ain't no sucka-ass sucka bein' all 'oh let me answer P's fuckin' dumb ass question' up in hea', nah mane I gots my own shit ta' do, fuck y'all.  Paace!"

"Um," I started.  I was going to ask Marcus to tell a joke but I didn't think that would work either.  "Whatever, do you girls follow Cleveland Jesus or what?  Kalimbo, and stuff.  Get your asses moving!" I ordered, feeling more god-like as my awkward sentences went on.

"I said move your ass!" I yelled and kicked at the nearest girl.  My dick-toes smacked her on the butt and she wiggled instinctively.

Finally the girls dumped Marcus' soggy corpse next to Limbozer's suit.  I scooped up pieces of Limbozer and dumped them into a growing pile of goop, trying to clean out the suit so Marcus could be repaired.

"Ay, aiight, now puts me up in durr!" Koochy instructed.  I stuffed his corpse into the suit sideways, pushing to make it fit.  A piece fell off so I picked it up and tossed it in too.  There were laser-cut holes in the knee and crotch and various places and meat started to ooze out so I squished it all in as best as I could.

"But Limbozer didn't have a lot of energy left in there, right?" I said.  "He said something about it being out of battery."

"Unnngh looka you bein' all smart, son.  Damn right!  But dat's wha' I fuckin' said arrready!  Plug dat shit into dat suit and it 'bout to be on!  I be scraight hackin' soon!  Well afta' we get some muffuckin bandz'll-make-her-dance bandwidth, and down-load the rest of my personality centa' on the down-low.  You ain't even 'bout dat life!"

I didn't quite understand Koochy's instructions, but I got the basic gist of it.  I unplugged the power cell unit from under my armpit, having to lean to one side to overcome a weird constriction around my chest, and got ready to insert it into Koochy's powered-down suit.  It still didn't go in right so I flipped it over and tried again. 
Fuck!
  I should have known that would happen.  I flipped it once more. 
Fuck! … Fuck!

"What the fuck?  For real?  How did I have to flip it three times to get it to go in?" I exclaimed.  Out of all the things that had happened to me so far today, this really pissed me off.  I kicked at the power cell, stumbled, and ended up bruising a few of my dicks for my efforts.

"FUCK!!"

Despite these problems, the power cell lit up and the damaged suit blinked a meaningless status code from a holographic display.  But at least the flashing digits were green and not red or anything.

"Or Blue, even," TK interrupted my thoughts.  "That's what you were thinking about, weren't you?" she berated.

"Dammit, TK, you know I wasn't thinking about her," I thought loudly.  "And she's dead!  In fact, the last two girls who sucked my dick are both dead!"  I realized I'd given away too much information and ruined my previous evasion, then decided everything was terrible anyway.

"Preston.  Chesticles.  Is that a threat?" she interrogated.  "And I'm surrounded by these guys, are you going to hurry up!?"

"No!  Yes!" I answered.  "Look, I'm behind schedule and working through my task list.  I'll get to you next!"

"So I'm not your top priority?"

I ignored her, I didn't have the patience for these status reports.  She'd be more reasonable in person, I figured.

"Ay, now plug me into dat suit right'chere!" Koochy said.  "I'm gonna donk out dat body propa' like, fixin' ta' get my ganja tele-fuckin'-port system done up riiight!"

I did as Koochy requested, inserting the compute-pad into the suit's other port.  Luckily the ports weren't damaged.  The plug seated with a click.

"Oh sweet!  Hey!" I beamed proudly.  "I got it in on the first try!"  I looked around for approval.

"What yo ass want, a damn cheevo?"  Koochy berated me.  "Now, looka here, dis about to be some shit to see, righ' chere, son!  Just lemme get my motha fuckin' down low on, son!"

Koochy went silent for a few minutes and I reflected on the crowd of followers I had amassed.  Would they allow us to leave them?  Would I have to kill them all in order to see TK again? 

"Awww, yeah, booyyyy!" I heard Koochy's voice echo from the compute-pad.  "Big Kooch back up in dis shit, fo' rea'!"

Koochy's cadaver still looked quite dead, his jaw broken and lying dully open.  However, his suit began to move.  He looked like some kind of zombie as he began to take his first awkward steps around me.  Quickly, his confidence grew, as did his dexterity, and soon he was cavorting about, throwing gang signs gleefully.  Well, his face didn't look very gleeful being dead and all, but his body sang like a high school thespian as he pranced and boasted.

"Fuck yeah, look at me, P!  Look!  At!  Muh!" he strutted. 

"Can we get out of here now?" I was a little revolted at the sight of the undead Marcus.  To make it even more creepy, his suit moved exactly in the style I recalled Marcus' living body moving.  The resemblance was uncanny. 

"Hell yeah, son.  We best get tha fuck out!"  Koochy stopped moving and appeared to be looking for an exit.

"How can you see anything?" I inquired, curiously.

"Dis busted ass compute-pad got a camera on it.  But look, fo' rea', we gotta get to some damn fo' rea' bandwidth and some mufu'n' nuclea' powa if dis hea' body goan be up in dem guts again, ya hear' muh?" he explained.

"There's a huge door over there.  See it?" I gestured toward where we had limboed in. 

"Sheit," Koochy cursed from the compute-pad.  "This shit a piece of shit, cuz!  Cain't see a damn thang.  Fuck's tha rezzy on dis bitch anyhow, 4k?  Get tha fuck out!  P, yo ass goan have ta lead me dere."

I realized Koochy's field of view was very narrow.  In jest, I moved just out of his vision and extended one of my feet to nudge him on the arm.

"Here, take my hand and I'll get us over to the door," I offered him my foot, grinning.

"Ay, P, thanks, dog.  You my numma one stunna fo' rea', bloo-" he stopped as he grasped my foot.  "Fuck, P!  Tha fuck is dis, some kinda baga dicks?  Why you goan hand me some buncha dicks?" he demanded, recoiling.

I backed up, laughing.  "Marcus, you just got...
dick
footed!"

"Man, fuck you, P!  Yo ass ain't cleva.  Yo ass ain't thankin' 'bout sheit!" he scowled.

"More like, thinking about dickfooting you again," I chuckled.

"Mane, stop sayin' dat.  Dat shit stupid."

Grasping his hand with my real hand this time, we sprinted together towards the great iron gate.

"Cleveland Jesus!" Makayla cried out to our backs as we fled.  "My lord, where are you going?"

We reached the heavy gate and I exclaimed desperately, "I...I didn't see any way to open it.  Last time I was here, I mean."

"We jes goan have ta man up an' lift dis shit," Koochy explained.  "I done tweaked deese suits so dey all scrong and shit.  It ain't goan be easy but we can lift dis shit fo' true."

He leaned over, bent down and dug his fingers into the base of the door. 

"Mane, get yo ass on dis shit!  I cain't lift dis bitch by my damn se'f!" Koochy barked and I obliged.

Together, we began to lift the immense barrier.  I couldn't believe it.  It was the heaviest thing I had ever moved.  Inch by inch, we managed to pull the gate a good three feet off of the ground.

"Now, quick, we gotta swing under one at a time, P!" Koochy told me.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but became distracted by the sound of a horde of my followers approaching.

"Hurry, hurry!" I shouted.

"A'ight, den!  Don't let dis shit crush my ass, P!" Koochy pleaded and then, with great exertion, managed to swing himself under the enormous door and outside.  "Hoooo shit!  I made it!  Damn, P!  Break yo se'f!  Get out here!"

I was worried I wouldn't be able to hold up my share of the weight of the door while ducking under to join Koochy outside on the tundra. 

"My lord," Makayla approached me.  "Why do you struggle so?  Like, what are you doing?  Looks supes hard."

"I command you to open this door!" my voice trembled as I bellowed my holy writ. 

Makayla's face faltered and turned white. 

"Of...of course, my Lord!" she made a motion with her hands and two dozen girls rushed forward.  Once they put their shoulders to the metal door, it was easily lifted well above my toddler head. 

I stood for a moment, bewildered, staring at Makayla who looked like someone had just killed her favorite pet.

"Ay, P, a'ight den, you done a'ight, son," Koochy complimented me.

"Makayla, I
command
you... all of you, to stay here and await my return.  The day will come on which I will call upon you.  Wait for me here.  Do not follow us," I tried.

Makayla's lower lip shook and I felt she might burst into tears.

Without a further word, I turned my back on my entombed followers and met Koochy on the other side of the door.

"Damn, son," he chuckled.  "Col' as hell, bra."

"Bro!" I heard faintly through the door.  "I coulda lifted that!"

I smiled, feeling almost fully healed at this point.  The over-powered surgipod suit was filling my body with strength and vigor.  It almost felt as if my skin was alive with a mind of its own.  I couldn't wait to get out of this suit.  But, first I had to find TK.

Looking around, I saw that I was surrounded by doors.  There were at least a hundred. 

"Oh no..." I said, quietly.

"Damn, dat ho coul' be any damn where.  And, deese batteries is dyin'.  We ain't goan be shit wit'out deese chere suits.  P, we need a fresh plan, my man."  Koochy slapped me on the back.

"TK!" I thought, loudly.  "TK, are you there?"

"Of course I'm here, Preston," she said, sharply.  "Where the hell are you?"

"Where the hell am I?  Where the hell are you, TK?  There are like, a hundred doors."

"
I
know," she smarted.  "They all look alike too.  I thought sure I heard you guys in here, that's why I picked this door."

"Well, can you come back out?"

TK laughed.  "No," she thought.

"Can you bang on the door or make some noise or something?"

"Not likely," TK responded.

I paused.

"TK, what the hell is going on over there?" I demanded.

"Oh Preston, you don't want to know.  Let me spare you the details, honey," she tried to sound reassuring, yet I was not reassured.

"Fuck!" I yelled out loud, not mentally.

"What the fuck, P?"  Koochy jumped back, visibly surprised by my outburst.

"TK is in some kind of mess she won't tell me about.  And she can't tell us anything helpful about the door she is behind," I explained.

"How can her ass not rememba' any damn thang about da door she chose?" Koochy mocked.  "Ol' dumbass ho."

"Well, she did say she thought sure she heard us behind the door.  But obviously that wasn't right," I told him.

"Ohh, shit, P!  You a dumbass too!  Y'all like two dumbs in one ass!  Lemme put some machine learnin' on dis shit and we goan get to some fuckin innnnnn
sights
, ya hear' me?"  Koochy got excited.

"What?  What are you saying?" I asked.

"I got dis bitch modeled out.  Mathematically, sucka!  Dis a
fucked
up space, so dem 'coustics be all like RRRRRR
screeeee!
" Koochy made elaborate gang signs with his long, gloved fingers as he paced around me.  "See, we be knowin' what do' we came out from.  So I can be computin' what do' she be thankin' we be in based on deese damn echo killin' fields shits, muh mane!"

I rolled my eyes.  "So, essentially..." I prodded him to summarize.

"Damn, P!  It mean I know where she is, dude!" he shook his hands in the air between us.

"Oh," I shrugged. 

"Less go," I heard Koochy's voice emanate from his side while his vacant visage, immortalized in rigor mortis, stared blankly beyond me.  Then, his corpse, stuffed inside the mechanized surgipod suit, sprinted off.

I ran after him into the darkness that surrounded us.  Running had always hurt my feet, but now I found that without feet, the act was far more enjoyable.  I bounded along on my dickfeet, with the grace of a young gazelle.

Five minutes later, our shoulders were pressed into the iron of another towering gate. 

"Fuck, P!" Marcus lamented after a few moments of exertion.