Packing List for the Novice Neo Nomad

So you want a way out—an escape from the tightening grip of the modern digital monarchy. Whether you think you’re ready or not, pay careful attention to the following and you might just stand a fighting chance on the run.

Priority one, without question, is identification—of every attainable variety. Just a few weeks back I started running with new blood, a young kid, met him in the old city pipelines. He told me they nabbed him for service, eight years, bio division. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say, but I could tell his reasons were a hell of a lot better than the usual excuses. I couldn’t blame him. Fifty-five hours a week, sleeping in a glorified capsule? I’d probably have done the same thing, circumstantial or not. I still wondered. He wouldn’t tell me his name, his age, or anything that would compromise “plausible deniability.” It was a beginners mistake, and one I warned him against. I commended his caution, but I knew he wouldn’t last a month out here.

The only thing that’s kept me on the run this long? My damn papers. Everyone wants to look in your closet these days. Security checks, census collection, install chips. The fucking install chips. The only way to stay “free” is to convince every convoy and every droid you’re someone you’re not. Underground identity conversion isn’t cheap, but it’s worth it. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Young guys get scared, want out of the system and burn every record of their existence. Problem is, the only thing more dangerous than being somebody is being nobody. Most of them pray they’ll make enough runs to finance new papers before they’re spotted by the wrong eye, or worse, the wrong lens. Few succeed. I hadn’t even been running with the kid for a week when they grabbed him. Tipped off by a damn clerical droid asking for ID. I wondered about his family. He didn’t say if he had any; I suppose I hoped he didn’t. Nobody who gets caught running is seen or heard from again, ever.

If you want to make a decent living out here, you’ll need a weapon, and a backstory to coincide. It doesn’t matter where you hide, if you’re past the corporate sector someone wants your head. Sometimes it’s over your wallet, sometimes runs just go south. Most of the time people just think you’re looking at them the wrong way. My only defense is a third generation shock immobilizer, Northwatch issue. That’s my gig, my backstory. I couldn’t afford any conversions that would permit a gun on my waist, but few can. I shouldn’t complain, a license to carry this piece of rust is the difference between life and death some days. When anyone asks, I work security, surveillance + recon division for Northwatch, a system just big enough to get lost in. Few bother to confirm this story, and those that try get transferred too many times to see it through. If you want to live out here, free from them, free from the Man, you’ll need to defend yourself. Just know that a weapon without a license could get you nabbed before you have a chance to use it on the runner that’s been trailing you for the past mile. If you want to do this right, buy a conversion in security, private defense if you can afford it. Anything else will either get you killed or taken.

Now, whatever new age holo-cell bullshit you’ve been using, trash it. A single call and you’re being hauled off by a retrieval unit before you get the chance to hang up. If you can manage it, get your hands on an early 2000’s cellular smartphone, no newer than 2010. I know, it seems strange. What use could anyone have for a 70-year-old box of circuitry? All the good runners carry them, the ones that stay off the grid and stay alive. You’ll be damn lucky to find one, even luckier if you meet someone willing to barter for it, but anything else will get you spotted. They started watching us back in the early 2010s, I believe, back when the bastards were still calling it “personalized ad-targeting” or “behavioral data retrieval.” It was always bullshit. The biggest and baddest software empires have been in bed with government far longer than anyone cares to guess. They’d leak terabytes of dirt on anyone who tried to speak up, so we stopped speaking up. You probably know the rest if you’re reading this. What you might not know is the tech inside the early smartphone hardware. It’s shit, and it needs to be. It’s not advanced enough to get picked up by spotter radars or drones, making it the only safe way to contact underground allies. It’s the only way I’m able to let my parents know I’m still alive.

If you’re lucky enough to get your hands on an old smartphone, download a few albums. When anyone asks why you’re carrying the relic, tell them you’re a hipster, or some shit about how music used to sound better before the install chips. Just make sure you have the music to back up your story, good music if you want to stay sane. Anything you choose to carry beyond these fews necessities is your prerogative, but remember, less is often more out here.

Assuming this list hasn’t fallen into the wrong hands, you’re likely a trusted prospect, a friend of a friend, so to speak. If you genuinely plan to embark on this escape from the neo-social digital overwatch, you’ll need to make allies. Despite the piss-rotten majority of lone scavenger assholes running these outlands, a dedicated few have assembled a resurgence ring. Allies of this silent rebellion are recognizable only by the lockets we wear around the neck. These lockets are silver, heart-shaped, and contain the inscription: “From dusk we run, for dawn’s liberty awaits.” Inevitably, these lockets are stolen on occasion, though our secret remains guarded through a greeting code. If you’re so fortunate to locate a suspected ally, you may prompt them to provide the code by asking, in exact wordage, “what lies beyond the auburn skies?” The precise reply is “ceremony, hidden in disguise.” Anything else means you’re likely in the presence of a thief or a killer, so take caution. In the hopeful event that the suspected ally is genuine, you will be briefed with the necessary information, and awarded a locket of your own.

As you should have gathered, the contents of this correspondence contain a volume of incredibly sensitive information. Read it again, memorize it, and burn it. None of this intel can reach a digital capacity to any degree. Gather as many of the previously noted commodities as possible and break free. We look forward to seeing you beyond the auburn skies.