Let me just start by saying that Merc and I were really taken aback when you walked out on that last mission. We’d both been really impressed by your dedication to the job, and had some big plans for you. Why did you decide to resign?
A lot of reasons, really. To start with, I guess I just didn’t enjoy the day-to-day, you know? I wanted to be a runner, and if that’s what the job actually was, it’d be great. But it seems like I’m never running. I’m always looking around rooftops for some improbable network of catwalks, HVAC units, and air ducts to help me get from Point Fucking A to Point Motherfucking B.
Pathfinding is part of the job.
You know what’s annoying, though? Trying to pathfind while being shot to death by guys with assault rifles.
No one said it would be easy. Running is illegal in New Eden.
OK, but why are police waiting for me everywhere I go? It seems like the entire police force just hangs out on top of buildings, waiting for me show up. Then Merc is always in my ear, stating the obvious. “Careful, Faith. There’s a increased blue activity in the area.” Hmm. I wonder if that means they’ll show up? “Careful Faith! There’s blues ahead of you!” Thanks, Merc! I couldn’t see them ’cause I was blinded by their muzzle flashes.
And do we have to call them “blues” all the time? I mean, I know we”re rebellious, militant pseudo-hipsters, but can’t we ever give it a rest and call a thing by its name? This one guy, I can’t ask him a simple question without him being like, “Catch you later, Faithee! What can I give you, Faithee? Think you can handle me, Faithee.” Then, after wasting my time with his insinuations, he goes darting off. So I’ve gotta chase him for twenty minutes just to ask him a simple question. And for some reason, everyone just goes along with this shit. Nobody can just answer a direct question. Or ask one. It’s all oblique references.
I think we’re getting rather far afield fro-
No, see, this is why I’m quitting. I’m trying to investigate this murder that my sister was framed for, and instead of just asking people, “Hey, what do you know about this murder?” I’ve gotta couch everything in these little code-phrases. And I get answers in kind. “Very powerful people are involved in this, Faith.”
“Let’s just say, there are forces that would like to take control of the police.”
“There’s a cabal of-”
Fuck it, I just lost interest. And to be honest, I don’t really give a shit about my sister, either. What? My jack-booted thug of a sibling gets busted by the conniving fascists she works for and I’m supposed to drop everything to bail her out? Yeah, she’s the only sister I’ve got, but seriously, it’s the scorpion and the blind dog, you know? So it was okay for her to crush dissidents and hunt down runners last week, but now that she’s framed for a killing that for once she and her friends didn’t commit, she’s on side of the angels?
So you’re quitting because you hate your sister?
Not just her. I’m quitting, however, because Merc sent me into a room full of policemen for the umpteenth time. It was ridiculous. Door opens and it’s basically a firing squad. I run through and started dodging bullets, and just as I start to feel pretty good about myself, I realize something. Every other door is locked. So I start running circles around the room looking for an exit, but I can’t find one. It must be upstairs, but to get there I’ve got to get past the cops. Except there was no way to to get upstairs without getting shot to death. The only thing missing from that little scene was the Benny Hill music.
Maybe if you looked harder-
Certainly. But you know what? I didn’t want to. I’d looked hard for the way out of other traps, and all I got were more traps. I felt like I was escaping from jail cell into a coffin. So this time, I just walked out of the room, got a wall between me and the cops, and called it a career. When I get home, I’m going to pour myself a nice glass of wine, lie down on my IKEA sofa, and try to forget everything about New Eden. What a stupid name for a city.