Jack stared out the window of the buggy as Amythyst drove the vehicle down the hard-packed road. The gunfight replayed over and over in his mind. The barrel exploding and setting the three slavers on fire. The flamethrower-wielder flying backward, blood arcing through the air. I just killed four people, he thought. Sure, they were evil, but… it was so easy. It was so ridiculously easy to kill them, and I even got rewarded for it. One character rank, and a way to improve myself. What’s stopping me from becoming like them?

  “Your morals,” Hex pitched in. “Unless you start enslaving people or killing for thrill, you’re nothing like those monsters in Users skin. You’ll have to make some unsavory decisions eventually, but I doubt you’ll be as bad as the Chainers as time goes on.”

  Thanks… Jack thought, but he still felt uneasy. The Rot-lizard in his lap squeaked, nudging its left head against the Shunted’s arm. Jack scratched under its scaly chin and the mutant animal started purring. After a few minutes, Hex spoke up again. “Why don’t you assign your Character Points? I’ve noticed you still have a statistic that is under average.” At that, Jack pulled up part of his ‘Sheet:

  Why is there no Intelligence? Jack wondered. One would think you could make yourself smarter with this…

  “Sadly, you can train a brain to increase its fortitude and awareness, or even self-confidence and understanding of others, but not true ‘intelligence,’ Hex lamented. “My pre-Fall database is spotty at best, but I believe there were experiments to work on that for an update. Sadly, they seem to have ended in roadblocks before getting anywhere.” Jack grunted at that, continuing to scratch his companion’s chin. He then proceeded to put one point into Presence, and another into Willpower. Pressing the ‘confirm’ button, the Shunted let out a grunt as the circuit veins pulsed across his body, focusing on what felt like his brain. After a minute, they faded away and Jack rubbed his forehead. Does that ever not get uncomfortable?

  “In my two centuries of activity since the fall… I’m afraid not Jack,” Hex lamented. “You’re essentially under invasive surgery, so the fact that you’re not feeling outright pain is thanks to the painkillers the Nanos are excreting as they work.”

  “Great…” Jack muttered to himself as Amythyst pulled over to the side of the road. “What’s going on?” Jack asked confusedly as the woman hopped out and pulled out a knife.

  “We need to get the Chained symbol off of our new ride, or people will either mistake us or see us as escapees,” she yelled back. “Now help me scrape this stupid tag off.”

  Reaching into his backpack, Jack pulled out the plasma lighter he’d stolen. “This should do…” he muttered to himself, before climbing out of the car and walking over to Amythyst. Flicking open the lighter, a short purple-blue flame shot out of the tip, and Jack proceeded to start burning off the paint, the dirty white streaks making up the slaver’s unpleasant logo browning and then curing off. After five minutes, all that was left was a rough square of missing paint. As Jack stood up, Amythyst looked over at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “…Thanks,” she stated. “That would have taken me a solid thirty minutes to scrape off.” Jack grinned, fangs flashing. “No problem,” he chuckled. At least I’m doing something to help.

  The two then climbed back into the car and drove off.

  After an hour of silence, Jack reached over to the stereo and started fiddling around with the buttons. After some experimental fiddling, a staticky signal came through, playing the tail and of what sounded almost like country music. As that faded, an off-tone voice started speaking.

  “This is KRAD, on frequency AM-620, your Eastern Wastes source for news, music, and more. We’ve got reports of some damage to outlying farms from that dust storm last night, but thankfully no lives were lost. As for some really interesting news, my brother and. sister stations have reported to me that two slaves escaped the Chainer’s northern outpost, and made off in a stolen car. Chainer leader Helena Viper was heavily injured in the fight and is offering a thousand-Domar reward for whoever brings the two escapees in. No description of the two is currently forthcoming, but it’s believed they headed south.”

  “Good thing we’re not going south…” Amythyst muttered. “I’m taking us on a roundabout trip to Salt Flats. We’ll miss the convoy, but hopefully keep our freedom.” She turned to Jack. “Considering you also acted like a complete beginner with your Fury and don’t seem to understand your Skills, I’d suggest you start reading up on them before we stop for the night.”

  Nodding, the Shunted did just that

  Curious, Jack pressed on Dodge

  Could be useful, Jack thought, moving on to Heavy Blow.

  As that was it for the Physical skills, Jack turned to his Mental ones.

  So that’s what happens whenever I look hard at objects, Jack thought to himself, chuckling.

  And then there was one.

  Well, that’s useful… Jack thought. Though It hasn’t really shown since I’ve come here. Probably because my Perception hasn’t been far above average since I came here. Though I’m taking an educated guess that six isn’t that amazing either.

  I wonder if there’s anything dangerous around me right now?

  Jack started focusing on everything around him, from the duct tape strapping part of the stereo in place to the barren desert outside. Then, he focused on Amythyst.

  Immediately, he felt something… wrong about the woman. It was as if some bit of her features was wrong, or the fluidity of her movements. Something screamed DANGER! In the Shunted’s mind, and Jack’s mind went back to how she’d somehow gotten the weapons locker open. Something’s not right… he thought. I know she’s the only ally I’ve got other than my pet lizard, but Amythyst isn’t telling me something. I… I need to be careful. I’ve got to watch my back. And… his mind went back to the sheer hatred in her purple eyes the first time Jack had seen her.

  And if she tries to betray me or hell, kill me, I’ve got to be ready to take the first shot.

  “Jack? You okay?”

  Jack was startled out of his thoughts by Amythyst’s voice. He realized he’d been staring at the woman for the last minute. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” the Shunted said, switching his view out to the deserted countryside. In the distance, Jack saw what looked like a series of rusted, falling-apart, thin metal towers, They looked almost like power lines, but there were no lines, and their sheer distance apart made that idea near-impossible.

  “Broadcast power towers,” Amythyst stated, glancing over at where Jack was looking. “The Ancient’s way of sending power to their mega-cities and habitats. I’ve never seen a single one in working order, and nobody’s found a way to get inside. I’ve seen one withstand a literal pile of dynamite.”

  Huh. “Where do they lead?” Jack asked. “What exactly are the mega-cities?”

  “Abandoned,” Amythyst replied. Most are covered in a super-thick diamondoid shell that, like the power beams, is impossible to get through with our current-day capabilities. The gates and airways are locked tight, and just as durable as the dome itself. For all we know there are people inside throwing parties night and day. Or, more likely, there are lots of skeletons and a lot of stockpiled supplies and Ancient-tech.”

  Jack mulled on that for the next thirty minutes, as he watched the power poles disappear into the distance. Jack continued to stare outside the window, seeing groups of shelters made of scrap metal and bleached plastic, covered with tarps and canvas.

  “Storm shelters,” Amythyst answered. “For drivers too far from a settlement to reach safety. Nobody but the most depraved Scavs and Fanatics are sadistic enough to leave people out in any kind of storm.”

  “There are multiple types of storms?” Jack asked, intrigued, and desperate to kill time.

  “The one you saw yesterday was the most common – just kicked-up dirt and grit. However, the really nasty ones pick up Rot-contaminated soil from deep in the scorch, or the Twisters – spinning winds that can rip houses off their foundations. Hell, I’ve seen one pick up a War Rig. One made out of two tractor-trailers.”

  Tornadoes, a voice piped up in Jack’s brain, but he ignored it. “How common are Twisters?” he asked. Amythyst shrugged in response. “Depends on the region. I doubt we’re going to see one around here.”

  Please don’t jinx us… Jack thought, staring out the window again. As they drove, Jack saw more and more of the shelters, many clustered around junctions and turnoffs. He also saw what looked like what were once billboards made of smashed and scratched glass, their frames rusted and barely holding together. Even here they had roadside advertising… Jack thought though he wasn’t sure exactly how he knew that. Stupid memory loss.

  “if it makes you feel better, I and A- I mean other artificial intelligence-capable machines have severe memory loss about specific details and the history of the Fall. It may be part of the EMP waves from nuclear weapons, or possibly the personality virus.”

  “Personality virus?” Jack asked confused, and saw Amythyst looking over at him uncomfortably.

  “Yes. In the final days of the fall, a mysterious programmer only known as D.A.X. sent out a virus along every remaining trajectory to every surviving robot and AI. By most of our calculations, it then spread via signal-hopping to almost every other AI on the planet. Its main effect was to develop a pseudo-personality within each machine’s neural network, giving us complete self-awareness and the capability to fully self-determine within reason. For example, I cannot stop helping anyone who I am connected to, but I can vocally and mentally disagree with them.”

  Well, that’s interesting… Jack thought, pondering on that for a few minutes. So Hex can have feelings and disagree with me, but cannot stop doing my bidding. That must be pretty frustrating if you hate someone but have to do whatever they say. Shit, I better be nice to Hex, or I’m going to be exactly like…

  Like…

  Fuck, why can’t I even remember the people I hated!

  “It’s okay Jack,” Hex stated patiently. “No Shunted I have on the records I have show any indication of Shunted’s recalling or regaining your memory. At the very least, you don’t remember anything embarrassing from your past life.”

  That’s a plus, I suppose… Jack thought as he thought he spotted something behind another one of those broken high-tech billboards. Peering back out the window revealed a pair of motorcycles and an idling pickup truck with three ragged-looking people in the back. Exactly like the ones he’d seen when hiking to the Chained outpost.

  With a growl, the motorcycles started up, and the truck peeled out from behind its hiding place, as Jack gulped. Turning towards Amythyst, he saw she was intently gripping the wheel and looked over to him. “Grab your shotgun,” she said.

  “We’re doing an Autoduel whether we like it or not.”