The walls of the Free City of Chicago towered over the vast expanse of the outer suburbs and abandoned fields. Shadows from the city lights beyond danced in the night sky. Bright ads hung from the steel wall beamed blues and whites as they cycled between Mandarin, Hindi, and English. Some kind of new modkit that cost an obscene amount of money that no one this side of the wall could afford.

  Oto stood in line with Chatter beside him. Chatter was a tinkering with his wrist, making sure the clock embedded in his skin was in the right time zone. “This fucking thing always messes up,” Chatter said. “Piece of shit, I tell you.”

  A woman in front of them gave a smug look before taking a few steps forward. “Get it looked at when we’re in the city,” Oto said. “I’m sure there’s a cheap modder you can find.”

  “You haven’t been to the Free City much have you?” Chatter laughed. “The only cheap modders will be deep in the Southside, past all the tower blocks. I’m sure a gang or two patrols the area. I’ll be extorted like a motherfucker.”

  “Shoulda found someone in Dakota before we started trekking.” Oto rolled his brown eyes. “Then I wouldn’t’ve had to listen to all your complaining.” Oto tugged on his pack that started to slip off his new shoulders. He hadn’t quite gotten used to the metal that made up the top half of his body. He could hear it clink and whiz every so often, especially when they were alone in the plains.

  The line began to surge forward. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people trying to get into the Free City. Trucks and cars and hovercrafts all had there own checkpoint. How Chicago hadn’t burst at the seams already he didn’t know.

  A dark man with blue eyes that looked like a screen was scanning as he walked. He wore a thick layer of Kevlar, with a machine gun modded to hell at his side. His vest said FCCPD. “Remember, no weapons in the Free City!” The cop shouted. “All bodmods must be declared before entry. Anything illegal will have a talking to.” The cop stared at Chatter and Oto. His eyes moving in different directions, scanning all. “Keep it moving,” he said as some old woman got tangled in her bag and he continued down the line.

  “Know what you’re gonna say when we get our ‘talking to’?” Oto asked Chatter.

  The man laughed and tapped his head. “Chatter always knows what he’s gonna say. Now,” he shrugged, “will they listen? Who knows.”

  “Just remember, anyone the FCCPD don’t like ends up gone.” Oto waved his hand like he performed a vanishing trick. “I can’t get to the blockade without you.”

  “Those motherfuckers won’t know what hit ‘em!” Chatter laughed again.

  They continued their small steps forward in the line. Behind them a few people were conversing in Portuguese. Oto’s translator mod was working overtime to keep up. One of the Brazilians had an illegal implant. Some kind only government officials could have. Another Brazilian was counting her money for the bribe they would have to make.

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  “You sure our gang is in here?” Oto whispered as he wondered who else had a translator.

  “I just go with what Raif tells me, and what she told me was that our people are in Chicago wandering around Ukrainian Village. They like their zhiming so probably need to find a dealer.”

  “Quatrocentos!” The woman behind them yelled in glee. Four hundred dollars. Oto knew that wouldn’t be enough to bribe an officer of the FCCPD. He wandered where the Brazilians would end up. Beaten? Thrown in the lake? Would the illegal mod be ripped out and the man left to die a slow, agonizing death? Oto had no money to help the Brazilians out. Not yet anyway.

  As they neared the wall Oto’s eyes scanned to the top. FCCPD and a private military unit from the Bushland Corporation walked along the barbed wire. Snipers were aimed at the crowd. Others joked and laughed. Some sipped on late night coffee or beer. If there was an attack, Oto didn’t put his faith in the officers along the wall. Down below was the checkpoint. Checkpoint Eisenhower. Oto hadn’t even noticed the remnants of a bombed out and destroyed highway just to the right of them. Fifty years ago it would’ve been choked with traffic. Now, it was gone. The war taking its toll. Cars and trucks and trains instead entered from the south or north. Only people from the west.

  Oto took a deep breath as the checkpoint officers neared. His chrome-plated chest popping ever so slightly. “I’m getting unsure.”

  “You always do,” Chatter said as he pulled his boots tighter. “Remember how scared you were back in the Wisconsin when the raiders found us?”

  Oto shook his head. “A normal person would be afraid of that.”

  “But I was able to talk them out of it.”

  “If you call giving away our only EMP to raiders ‘just talking’ then sure. Gave away a weapon to a bunch of thieves. If they commit a terrorist attack that weapon has our scan.”

  “And what do you think we’re doing?”

  “I like to call it a military operation.”

  Chatter rolled his eyes. “Many a terrorist does. You worry too much,” he patted Oto’s shoulder.

  “And you don’t worry enough,” Oto scratched his nose. The smell of sewage and gas made him crinkle his face. “If you die then I die. The mission needs us alive.”

  Chatter grabbed his chest in mock hurt. “Only want me alive for the mission? And here I thought you loved me.”

  “That too.” Oto rolled his eyes with a smile.

  After the woman in front of them was ushered through the gate, a checkpoint officer pointed to Oto, sent him to the left, and Chatter to the right. “Step inside,” another officer said. Her eyes were dark under the LED lights that now showed an ad for a new, completely automatic, hovercraft. Oto took a step into the scanning box. A door was closed behind him. It was a plastic see-through tube. The officer clicked a button and a red laser illuminated the box.

  “Please stand still,” the robotic voice of the AI said. “Any sudden movements and your entry into the Free City of Chicago could be delayed.” The laser jerked and began to scan as it moved down and over Oto’s body. Once the scanner was back in place, the AI said, “thirteen body modifications detected. One weapon detected. Pistol. Right hip.”

  Another plastic door opened in front of him and the cop ushered him out. “Bodmods, declare them,” the officer sighed, wanting to be anywhere but here.

  “Tired?”

  She cocked her head and hooked her thumbs in her pants. “Tired of your shit. Bodmods.”

  Oto nodded his hand and said, “translator, improved heart, optic zoom, alloy knee—”

  An alarm sounded and cops surrounded the tube that Chatter was in. A red light spinning as the klaxon blared. “Bomb detected,” the AI voice said over and over.

  “You with him?” An officer called out to Oto. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t leave Chatter alone with the FCCPD. If Chatter was going to get his teeth knocked in, then so was Oto. He nodded.

  Handcuffs clasped and auto-locked around his wrists as Chatter was arguing. “What about the bodmods? You should see my dick!” He shouted as the cops were taking them into the steel fortress between the wall. “Tastes just like the real thing!”