- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --
Peace is an illusion.
And no matter how tranquil the world seems...
peace doesn't last long.
Peace is a struggle against our very nature.
A skin we stretch over the bone, muscle, and sinew
of our own innate savagery.
What are you doing?
We can't just leave her here.
She's not our problem. You want to get us arrested?
Just...
let her go.
The instinct of violence curls inside us like a parasite,
waiting for a chance to feed on our rage
and multiply until it bursts out of us.
War is the only thing we really understand.
Long live the Uprising!
Long live Quellcrist Falconer...
Long live Quellcrist Falconer!
Christ.
Ah, for fuck's sake.
No hookers. Just get out of my room.
- I'd love to, but I have a job to do. - You can keep what he paid you.
How generous of you. But then it's not your money, is it?
This is not a siren of the night. Ms. Prescott is an attorney.
Your hotel seems more perceptive than you.
That's disappointing,
in view of the trouble and expense
Mr. Bancroft has taken to acquire you.
Oh, you work for Bancroft.
Exclusively. May I have my...
Where's my clothes?
If by "clothes" you mean those bloodstained rags, here they are.
But I took the liberty of procuring habiliments
more appropriate for your position as a confidant of a Meth.
He's not a confidant. He's a hired gun.
Take her downstairs. And if it's not too much trouble,
don't let anyone else into my fucking room.
Lights on, 20%.
Hey, Hawkeye.
Hello, Lieutenant Ortega.
Would you like information on the target?
I slept great, thanks. You?
I'm afraid I don't understand the question.
That's a nicer answer than most guys I wake up next to.
I'm afraid I don't understand the question.
Forget it, Hawkeye.
Just let me know if Kovacs goes anywhere.
This is not how normal people start the day.
- Coffee, cereal maybe. - Come on.
Toast. Maybe even toast with another person...
I don't want any toast.
It can be nice, wake up next to someone, have toast.
I don't want to hear your suggestions for my personal life.
What personal life would that be?
You need to blank this noise.
Doesn't matter who Kovacs is, you can't let him rattle you this much.
I know Bancroft's yanking your chain so hard
you're gonna get whiplash.
What was that?
One more round?
That was a tracker.
Except, of course, it can't be,
since we don't have a warrant on any of our open cases.
You know, if I saw this, I'd have to report it.
So it's a good thing I didn't.
Don't thank me. Just stop.
Forget about Kovacs. There's nothing there.
You think I don't know that?
Hawkeye, target location.
Processing target movements.
Target is in Psychasec, Mission Branch.
Welcome to Psychasec.
Please step up to the ID plate.
Ms. Prescott. Mr. Kovacs.
Director Nyman will be down in a moment.
Gonna need to interview Bancroft's associates. Personal and business.
Kind of people in Mr. Bancroft's circle, it's out of the question.
Go tell your boss you've decided it's too
socially awkward for me to save his life.
I'm sure he'll understand.
For the record,
I consider you to be completely unqualified as an investigator,
and you can't smoke in here.
Personally, I hate these things, but...
you sleeved me in a hardcore nicotine addict.
This sleeve is more than adequate for your needs.
I doubt you'll be using it long.
Ms. Prescott. I've cleared my schedule for the morning.
As I said earlier, whatever I can do.
There's no smoking.
At Psychasec, we provide the top of the market
in augmented and designer-enhanced sleeves.
Our service is exclusive to an elite clientele.
Best sleeve money can buy. Put your wife in me.
Hmm. How tasteful.
Our primary business is in clones.
No doubt you know a single clone
costs more than most people make in a lifetime.
So Meths only.
Our clients are the most discerning,
wealthiest people in the Protectorate.
They don't do anything as pedestrian as dying.
You deserve to look on the outside the way you feel on the inside.
You deserve this sleeve.
This is the Bancroft family vault.
We keep 24/7 tech personnel in the vault.
Gus was here the night Mr. Bancroft needlecast back from Osaka.
They aren't aware, right?
Nah, clones' brains are blanked, stacks are empty.
The bodies are electrically stimulated periodically
so they don't lose muscle tone.
Gonna need to see any footage you have of Bancroft's arrival.
Back when I went down,
you resleeve too many times, eventually you go nuts.
Personality frag. It's a bitch.
But it only happens if you bounce between lots of different sleeves.
So, turns out, if you resleeve into your own clone,
you can do it as many times as you want.
- And live forever. If you got the cash. - It's great, huh?
What does everyone else do?
Folks resleeve in whatever they can find, if they can afford it.
So your clients needlecast directly
into the clones here in the building?
Our lower levels house a fully secure
satellite-to-download DHF facility.
It can't be that secure if someone tried to hack Bancroft's backup
- the night he was shot. - Police think it was Dippers.
They steal snippets of Meth memory during uplink.
Moments from a king's childhood, a socialite losing her virginity.
- Is that common? - Oh, it happens all the time.
Black market value is huge for a slice of those memories.
Got the file. Here you go.
That's it?
We only record the moment of reacclimation for quality control.
Anything more would infringe on our clients' privacy.
And I do so value my privacy, as Christopher well knows.
Christopher, so good to see you.
It is our privilege to be of assistance.
Good morning, Mr. Kovacs.
I told Oumou here that I wanted to drop in
and observe your investigation at close quarters.
You were here the night your husband resleeved?
Yes. When Laurens travels for business,
I like to meet him when he casts back.
When was this footage taken?
Six hours before Mr. Bancroft was killed.
I know I'm watching myself, but it feels as if I'm watching a stranger.
What were you doing in Osaka, before you came back?
Mr. Bancroft closed a 400 billion credit trade deal.
Which I also have no memory of.
And your associates there were questioned?
They saw nothing amiss with Mr. Bancroft.
On the contrary, they remarked on his focus and skill.
Yes, I still have no idea how I managed
to pull that together quite so quickly.
And then you needlecast back here. What did you do after?
I went home. I'm afraid Laurens had more energy than I did.
Hmm. And you?
Security cameras at Suntouch House recorded Mr. Bancroft
arriving home in the morning. I'll get you the footage.
You don't do anything for yourself
do you, including answering questions?
I've told you, Mr. Kovacs, it's all a complete blank.
I'm struggling to see the point of this, um... interrogation.
The one person who is certainly not a suspect in all of this... is me.
You want answers, they come with questions attached.
Let's take a walk, Mr. Kovacs.
Just to be clear, if I die, you go back on ice.
If you don't solve this quickly enough, you go back on ice.
All this trust is just making me tear up.
Don't threaten me again.
- I'm not sure if I'm enjoying your tone. - Get used to it.
I'm gonna need access that you don't wanna give,
and I'm gonna find answers you may only think you want.
You wanted me to work for you. I'm working for you.
You want my respect?
That's a little harder to come by.
If you don't like it, put me back on ice right now.
I admire a man who can look over the edge without flinching.
Might make a Meth of you yet.
I've downloaded the footage to your hotel from Suntouch House.
I'll need to see the interviews of all the suspects as well,
and any threats that Bancroft's received.
Why are you here, Lieutenant?
You took the job.
- Why? - Man's gotta eat.
Don't you have actual policing to do somewhere?
You have any leads on who tried to kill me in the hotel last night?
The lack of surviving witnesses is a problem, but I'm working on it.
I feel safer already.
Yeah? Yeah, I know. I'm coming.
Be seeing you, Kovacs. Try not to get yourself killed.
Shouldn't be a problem. Who'd want to kill me?
Hello, boy-os.
Hmm. Well, holy shit.
Hey there, Poe. Long time.
How long?s it been, 50 years?
Actually, 47 years.
I thought you only lived in the real these days.
It grieves me that my account languishes in arrears.
I must restore my standing
with my brothers and sisters in the AI hotel union.
We're the AI management union now.
Yeah, Owen's turned himself into a music hall.
And Rodney has a strip club, calls himself Z-Rod.
- And Maddy... - I'm well aware who Maddy works with.
Or rather... for.
You bring credit to pay your back dues?
I have a guest.
- Ooh! - Grab a seat. We'll deal you in.
- Still calling yourself Poe, huh? - Mmm.
Why you always pretend to be one of them?
Dress like 'em, talk like 'em. It's so... weird.
I find humans fascinating.
You?re weird! Who cares about humans?
Who cares?
Humans gave us life.
Yeah, just because Maddy's been enslaved by one of them,
why hold that against the species?
They're not like us, Poe. They're a lesser form of life.
Preach it, brother.
I'm not their servant.
I choose to be the proprietor of the Raven.
The study of humanity is my greatest aspiration.
You gotta work on your life goals, Poe.
My place, Prick Up, that's the kinda business you gotta be in.
VR sexperience.
Sometimes I use live ones for the recordings.
Live?
Humans. They make better noises.
And the best thing, other humans pay you for the playback.
You gotta get out of the business of serving humans, Poe...
into the business of serving up humans.
You think your guest is gonna stay?
Even after the shootout in your lobby?
- Gunfire... - Dead bodies...
Police.
No. There were no rats feasting on the corpses.
Good day.
Watch where you're going.
Someone's been in there, I'm telling you.
Ma'am, let's check my file...
You want to tell me where you've been?
Who says I was anywhere?
An empty chair at this morning's briefing...
three unanswered messages. You ever check your ONI?
I was worried.
Don't be. I'm fine.
Stop hovering. I have a mother for that.
- How is Alazne? - Also fine.
Still weird to me that you two are on a first-name basis.
- Have I mentioned that? - Once or twice.
Ortega!
The Henchy woman is here again. And I want you to handle it.
But, Captain Tanaka, it's not my case.
I have a philosophy
about uncomfortable conversations with the recently bereaved.
- Would you like to hear it? - I...
Officers who miss the briefing volunteer.
- Handle it. - Yes, sir.
Shit.
You do it.
You expect me to tell this woman that
the BCPD lost her daughter's body?
Well, Tanaka says the body's not lost. It'll turn up.
Sooner or later, somebody's gonna have to tell her the truth.
She's not getting her daughter back.
I just don't understand.
It's been two months, and no one can explain it to me.
She's dead. Why haven't you released her body?
I'm looking into it.
Do you know how long it's been since I talked to my baby?
Three years!
I never got to tell her that I loved her.
Then I find out she converted last year.
So even though her stack was fine, she can never be spun back up.
I'll never see her again, not even to say goodbye.
Do you know what that's like?
- I have some idea, yeah. - Do you?
Because then you would understand why I need my daughter's body back.
- It's all I have left! - Ms. Henchy, please calm down.
I don't even know what you people are doing with her.
How do I know?
Did you sell her for parts? Because you have no right!
No right, do you hear me?
He looks perky.
Any record from within Suntouch?
No, there's no cameras inside.
This monitor's a piece of crap.
It's an antique. Like yourself.
That's nifty, but I still can't see shit on this thing.
I suggest you use your ONI feed.
Bancroft, you cannot escape your fate...
I want your fucking head removed!
...shit down your throat.
I'll fucking kill you, you Meth motherfucker!
- I can't wait to see you bleed. - That's subtle. Hey, Poe!
How many more of these did Prescott send?
Uh...
You have 3,578 death threats left to view.
From this year.
All right, well, discard all off-world threats.
Break it into three groups.
Threats involving violence...
people who committed actual crimes, where sender is known...
and mode of violence threatened.
Cross-reference for files that overlap search parameters.
Delete the rest.
I'm gonna enjoy watching you
beg for your life, you piece of shit!
Rage at injustice is universal. The ability to strike back is not.
Cross-check for military training or active combat experience.
I'm gonna double-sleeve you so you can watch me murder you!
And at its heart, violence is almost always, in one way or another...
personal.
Counting down to your real death.
Isolate 43.
For my girl. For my Lizzie.
You're a dead man, Bancroft.
I'm gonna hunt you down on your steel mountaintop
and blow your head off.
Splatter your brains all over the wall, and melt your stack to slag.
And you'll never see it comin'.
Go back.
Stop. Expand.
Lieutenant Ortega, target has left the Raven Hotel.
The machinery of justice won't serve you here.
It is slow and cold and it is theirs.
Hardware and soft.
What the fuck?
What did you do to my goddamn door?
Well, you didn't answer.
Because I'm fucking closed! Can't you read?
I got a few questions.
For my girl. For my Lizzie.
See, Laurens Bancroft hired me to investigate his death.
Now, who's Lizzie?
How the hell should I know? That holo has nothing to do with me.
You see, the military, the cheap bastards,
they issue a weapon, they keep records on who has it
so they can charge back against your pay.
Tac Marine standard issue AR.
Serial number, you dumb fuck. You might as well have signed your name.
I heard Bancroft torched his own stack.
And I got drunk to celebrate.
He send you here to kill me?
So you were a Tac Marine. GCE?
Medic. And there is no "was."
Once a marine, always a marine. Now get out, or I'll shoot.
You stitched people up, huh?
I shot them down, too. Now get the fuck out.
What the...
You're awake. Good.
Put that down.
Single bed, single dish. Table cleared just enough for one person...
What about the wife, Elliot?
She dead?
Okay, so not dead.
Maybe she left you 'cause you're a fucking slob.
I mean, look at this place.
Ava didn't leave me, you son of a bitch.
She pulled down 30 years for dipping.
She was a hacker?
Best in the Five Cities. Until she got caught.
So Ava's your wife. Which makes Lizzie your daughter.
- What're you staring at? - Don't worry. You're not my type.
No, stay away from there.
No, don't go in there. Come on!
No, I'll fucking kill you!
Don't! Stay away from there!
Technology advances. But humans don't.
No, I'll fucking kill you!
No, don't do it! You stay away from there!
We're smart monkeys,
and what we want is always the same.
Food, shelter, sex, and in all its forms...
- No, no, no! - ...escape.
Wake up and smell the coffee.
Wake up.
You must be Lizzie.
My name is Tak.
What happened to you?
Did you hurt her?
If you laid a hand on my daughter...
What the hell is wrong with you?
Can't you tell she's suffering? She's caught in a trauma loop.
Why the fuck you have her spun up in VR?
It's the only way I can see her.
Her body was beaten to death, but her stack was untouched.
It damaged her mind.
She hasn't said a word since that night.
Why do you think Bancroft did it?
'Cause she told me she was seeing him!
She said he needed her.
That he was gonna take care of her.
And then she ended up dead.
I don't want to hurt you.
You gotta get out more, Elliot.
Your milk's a month past the due date. A month.
You got a hell of a motive. Military expertise.
So do you, from the looks of it. That make you a killer?
More times than I can count.
But you didn't kill Bancroft.
I told you I... I could have. You don't know.
You got the background, skill...
Exactly.
But your daughter? You'd do anything
to protect her. You're not stupid.
You take out Bancroft, sooner or later, someone like me will show up.
You go down for it, she's alone in the world.
What's Jack?
- I'm not telling you fuck all. - Okay.
You're just gonna leave?
That's, um, for the cereal.
And the door.
Sorry about the door.
Welcome to the Battle of Stronghold.
Experience the brutality of Envoy terrorists
murdering countless women and children.
Witness the Protectorate courage and triumph.
I knew I shouldn't go...
'cause when the victors rewrite history,
it's just another kind of war,
waged after the battlefield killing is done...
to murder the memory of the defeated.
But it was a chance to see her again.
Not as a dream or a hallucination.
I thought it would give me a moment of peace.
I should have known better.
Hey.
You're not supposed to have that.
We're learning about Songspires in school. They're rare.
Where'd you get it?
I stole it.
Oh.
You're not supposed to steal things either.
Well, someone... stole these stacks.
They used to be people.
They were Envoy terrorists that wanted to kill...
Maybe you should catch up with your group.
I don't wanna. Emmeline is there.
She's the new girl in our class, and she's a bitch.
She stole my best friend Monica.
Me and Monica have been best friends forever.
- Hmm. - Since we were little kids.
But then, Emmeline came along and stole her from me.
I'm devastated.
Mom said grudges are stupid.
She said you had to let them go or else it would kill your soul.
What do you think?
I think your mom doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about.
- What? - See, friends are overrated,
'cause eventually, someone will come along and shoot 'em in the stack.
You're better off alone.
Welcome home.
Hi, Mama.
Just let yourself in anytime you want.
You don't have any food in here.
No one will respect a skinny girl cop.
I'm not going to let you get yourself killed
because you wouldn't eat an enchilada.
Look at this mess. When are you going to unpack?
I'm busy, that's all.
Too busy to put away your underwear?
I like it like this.
You're waiting for someone to come and help you unpack,
and it's not your mother.
You know, you could always move to someplace that's really yours.
Ana Luisa from the cleaners,
she told me there's a whole block of new places near the Tenderloin.
No, no, Mama. This is my place.
I'm staying.
Yes, of course.
What do I know?
I'm just an old-fashioned woman. Out of touch.
I've only got this life, and I'm not planning to have another one.
Not this again.
How am I supposed to explain this to your brothers and sisters?
Everyone at church?
To your father, God rest his soul?
That you've renounced your religious coding.
Like you said, Papa's dead. That should limit the explaining.
Sit down. We're going to eat.
Without your coding, you can be spun back up after your body dies.
It's wrong.
You can't take your communion.
Father Huerta can't hear your confession.
When Papa died,
and we couldn't ask him what happened or how it happened...
Your father was a devout man.
He would have never wanted to be spun back up.
I know.
But if it were me?
If it was me, what would you do?
What would you do, Mama?
Okay. I'll tell you, Kristin.
My heart would break into a thousand pieces.
It would shatter my world.
I would cry enough to fill up the oceans of the world.
And I still...
don't want you to risk your soul.
Now that the 653 stupidity is over,
there won't be any more talk of spinning up the dead.
Fuck!
Don't say swear words.
I'm sorry.
Lieutenant Ortega, target has entered Licktown.
Shit.
- What is that, Kristin? - I gotta go.
I gotta go. Thank you.
Are you supposed to have that at home?
Thanks for dinner! I love you.
Wake up and smell the coffee.
Welcome to Jack It Off.
Leave the piece with me.
Cabin 102.
Take a towel from the pile, and don't fucking steal it.
Do you want to see me? I'm right here, baby.
Just a few credits.
Now, do you want to touch me?
Tell me what you want, honey.
What's your name?
Anemone.
Do you wanna fuck me?
Put your cock in me?
Anywhere you want.
Do you remember a girl... I think she used to work here.
No girl who used to work here is gonna do what I can do for you.
Her name was Lizzie.
Lizzie Elliot.
- The fuck is this? You the sia? - No.
Get out, before I call for help.
I'm Ava. Ava Elliot. Her mother.
Bullshit. Lizzie's mom is in the store.
You're just another fucking John, and I am going to scream.
Wait, wait, wait!
I'm cross-sleeved, but I'm her mother.
You're fucking lying.
I'm not lying. Someone gave me a job, and...
took me off ice, and then put me in this sleeve.
It's wetwork.
If I do it, I'll get a new sleeve for me and for Lizzie.
You...
You'd do that?
I'd do anything for my little girl.
My mom would never...
But someone's blocking Lizzie's resleeve, and I...
I don't know why.
That's why I have to find out who killed her.
Do you know if Lizzie had any regulars?
Someone important? Any freaks?
Mrs. Elliot... everyone here is a freak.
Lizzie did have one regular.
- Do you know his name? - No.
I don't know. But he's a rich guy, a Meth.
- Lizzie was his favorite. - Did he hurt her?
No, no, he's not like that.
He takes care of his girls.
Takes care of them how?
Um...
What does he do?
Did he do that to you?
No. No, it's okay.
He's one of the good ones.
- If he breaks it, he buys it. - What?
You know, if he accidentally kills a girl
he buys her an upgraded sleeve.
I knew a girl once, he resleeved her ten years younger,
and with a great set of tits, too.
Did Lizzie have a jealous boyfriend
that didn't like her spending time with this regular?
Look, I liked Lizzie, but we weren't that close.
I'll ask around.
Come here tomorrow.
Doesn't matter how much anyone pays you.
You shouldn't let anyone hurt you. You're worth more than that.
My name's not Anemone, Mrs. Elliot.
It's Alice.
Thank you for visiting Jack It Off.
Hope you come again.
First thing you'll learn is that nothing is what it seems.
Ignore your assumptions.
Don't trust anything.
Weapon.
- Ah-ah-ah. Just the charge cell. - Okay.
You shouldn't have gone after my daughter.
I was just trying to find out what happened to her.
You left a few things out.
You don't care about her.
I never said I did.
Heads up.
You can't possibly think I'm that stupid.
You shouldn't have come back.
Fuck!
BCPD. Lay down your weapons.
Who the hell are you? Police? CTAC?
250 years ago, I was on the other side.
You might want to get out of the light.
Hands in the air!
You're under arrest for Organic Damage.
You're staying here tonight where I can keep an eye on you.
You gonna tell me why those guys jumped me?
You walk out of a whorehouse dressed like that,
and you're shocked that some lowlifes tried to mug you?
Really?
So, what, you gonna charge me?
For what? Organic Damage to some Stiff dealers?
I'm too tired to do the paperwork.
Tell me something, Kovacs.
You're getting to know more about Bancroft.
Why are you still willing to work for that piece of shit?
Mmm, before I was an Envoy...
I worked for the Protectorate. For a long time.
I didn't know that.
No one does. It's not the kind of work
that gets logged in any system anywhere.
And I was good at it.
You wanna know why?
Because I'm capable of almost anything.
You don't think it's possible to go so far you can't come back?
Maybe.
When I get there, I'll let you know.
When you get there...
I'll be right next to you. And I'll stop you.
Somehow, Ortega...
I get the feeling you can't even stop yourself.
Sorry, Lieutenant. We have to release him.
This is not acceptable.
- Are you all right, Mr. Kovacs? - He's just fucking fine.
I'll speak with Captain Tanaka in the morning.
You've gone too far this time, Lieutenant Ortega.
That's what I hear.
Cold chamber seven is empty.
You should know...
your mother loves you.
What do you mean you promised to send Vicki flowers?
The day of the murder, I'd driven Vicki to the station
to get her train reservations.
You were with Vicki the afternoon she was killed?
Yes.
Why didn't you tell the police?
Nice outfit.
I've been researching the famous gumshoe private dicks of the past
and I believe I can assist you in the time-honored position
of the shamus' dependable and steadfast partner. Hmm?
The partner's frequently murdered.
Alas, me being an AI makes that, uh...
less likely.
No.
No?
"No" hardly qualifies as the sardonic banter of the private eye.
How about, "Fuck, no"?
There's someone waiting for you in the penthouse.
Why do you keep letting people into my room?
I'm afraid I had no choice in the matter.
Why are you here?
I want to know what progress you've made.
I'm worried about my husband.
Your husband, who pays to beat up whores in Licktown.
It's a complicated thing...
- Yeah? - Being with someone for over a century.
I've given Laurens 21 children.
He's never had a child with anyone but me.
Sometimes, complexity can be exhausting.
You fascinate me.
You come from a time of real bravery...
real risk.
You're everything this world has lost.
You twirl your fingers when you're nervous, you know that?
Why would I be nervous?
It could be fear.
If I were afraid, would you save me, Mr. Kovacs?
I'm not sure you need saving.
Have you been with anyone since you've been decanted?
Not what we're talking about.
Maybe that's not what you're talking about.
I think that's enough.
Enough?
It's an interesting word.
I'm not familiar with it.
Have you heard of Empathin?
Merge9 on the street. That is if you can even get it.
It's a biochemical pheromone.
Puts bodies in touch with one other.
This sleeve is state-of-the-art biochemtech from Nakamura Labs.
I secrete Merge9 when I'm aroused.
It's in my saliva...
in my sweat...
in my cunt.
Don't fight it.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
I've had lustful thoughts.
Everything you feel... I feel.
And everything I feel, you feel.
I've done terrible things, violent things...
unforgivable things.
What the fuck?
The hell have you been?
I've abused my authority for selfish reasons...
caused pain and heartbreak when I had no right.
Please forgive me.
The moments of peace that we find sometimes...
they aren't anything but warfare, thinly disguised.
And sometimes, surrender...
can be as savage as any attack.
- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - -- www.Addic7ed.com --