Chapter 32
The sounds of retro wave washed over her. The hypnotic beat throbbed against her body, neon lights of the shops flooded the street, the puddles of water creating the illusion of two cities. The dingy city above and the city of lights and beauty below, in the pools, which rippled and distorted when one of the patrons of Wet Street sloshed through them, only for the water to grow still, and the beautiful image returned.
Wet Street was a place where someone could purchase any cardinal pleasure, or the company of almost anyone who worked the street. Boy toys and dolls motioned seductively for her to come to the windows they stood behind, or to enter the shops and sample the goods.
“There are many levels to the Ether,” Soma explained. “There is the upper level, the one you see in augmented reality, it’s a front for corporate messaging and propaganda. The level below requires more skill to navigate, private spaces accessible by key phrases and passwords, and below that is the dark net. A place where anything, or anyone can be bought and sold.
Functions navigate mostly on these three layers. Each one programmed for certain tasks or routines, and gather user data or ICE.”
“Intrusive counter measures.” Gabriela whispered.
“Yes. Gone are the days of firewalls. Simply blocking access is no longer. Trapping and eliminating malignant entities is the goal now.”
“I read a book once, by a man named Gibson. I think he coined the term.”
“William Gibson, yes. Art imitates life, but the best art envisages life.”
“What’s below the dark net?”
“Digital badlands. A place where forgotten functions roam. Functions so old that no one knows their purpose. And going below that is dangerous. A mancer mind will fragment and decode into the Ether, lost forever.”
“So, you have never been down that far?”
“Not personally, I have sent functions of my own down there, but it's not the same. It’s the difference between spying a planet from the safety of earth or standing on alien soil.”
Gabriela detected something in Soma’s voice. She couldn’t tell if it was a longing of envy.
“Why are we here, Soma? You are planning on getting me a good night before Cy-Tech zeros me?”
“We left something here, something we will need.”
“We?”
“I can not explain it to you now, but soon you will understand. We are going to see a man named Boris Ivanov.”
“And he’s keeping this… thing safe?”
“We paid him good money to watch over it, just in case something like this were to happen.”
“Okay,” Gabriela sighed and looked around. “Where do we find Mr. Ivanov?”
“A shop called Vixen.” Soma’s avatar appeared and pointed down the street. “Just by the flood light.”
Gabriela followed Soma, each step uncomfortable. Her ankle wasn’t fully healed yet, but it had healed enough to walk, and they didn’t have any time to lose. She had taken the last dose of painkillers the doctor had left for her, and her head swam with euphoric weightiness.
The girl at the front counter looked up and smiled when Gabriela opened the door. Her smile was infectious and Gabriela couldn’t help but smile back.
“Welcome to Vixens, sugar.” Bubble gum smacked behind her lips, stained a metallic blue, and she twirled her blue hair around her finger seductively. “What can I do for you?”
Soma appeared next to Gabriela and leaned in. “Tell her you want to forget yourself for a while.”
“I want to forget myself for a while.”
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The girl blew a bubble which popped before she resumed chewing. “That’s too bad,” She pouted. “I wouldn’t mind forgetting myself with you.”
“Tell her that’s not why you are here.” Soma snapped impatiently.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not what I’m here for.”
“Yeah, honey, I know. You’re here to see Ivanov. Come on.” The blue haired woman motioned for her to follow. Her hips swung seductively with each step. She was a woman who had mastered her trade and applied her craft with stunning efficiency.
Gabriela’s mind wandered in her drug induced haze, what would it be like with a woman like her? She had to force her eyes away from the swing of the woman’s hips, only to see the silhouettes of men and women in booths in the throws of passion. There muffled moans and cries of ecstasy. In the end Gabriel had to focus her eyes on the floor.
“He’s in here.” The women leaned against a door frame and nodded.
“Thank you.” Gabriela had to press herself against the hard metal of the door frame to get past her, but despite her best efforts she felt the woman’s breast push against her chest as she squeezed by.
“I hope you remember me.” The woman smiled before she closed the door behind her.
The door led to a landing with stairs leading down into the building's basement. Gabriela slowly made her way down the stairs before she found herself standing in a room draped with surgical cloth. Banks of servers hummed along the wall, and in the middle of the room was a netchair.
A man turned away from a desk beside the chair. He sniffed and rubbed white powder away from his thick mustache.
“Gabriela!” A wide smile split his ugly face.
“Do I know you?”
“It’s me, Boris.” He stood up and thumped his chest. His accent was thick, and unmistakably Russian.
“Durak!” He said as he slapped his head and laugh. “Of course, you won’t remember me. Come, come.” He motioned for her to enter the room.
“Soma said you had something for me,” She said as she tentatively made her way into the room.
“Da, da. And where is our little golden friend, eh?”
“I am here.” Soma’s voice echoed through the speakers set up around the room. “Do you still have them?”
“Of course I do. I promised I would keep them safe. Have a seat, Gabriela.” Boris patted the cushion of the netchair.
“It’s okay, Gabriela,” Soma reassured her.
Gabriela slid onto the chair, the pleather fabric cold against her skin.
“And does she know anything?” Boris asked when he turned back to his desk.
“Some.”
“Some?” Boris suddenly shouted. “I told you she’s not to know anything. It can cause mental damage.”
“Her memories haven’t been discussed, only the events.”
“Good.” Boris turned around and plunged a needle into Gabriela’s neck.
She screamed and kicked, desperately trying to pull herself from her chair.
“Soma!” She cried out. Her legs felt numb, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t lift herself from the chair.
Boris quickly typed a few keys at the terminal on his desk. “Soma’s not here now. Don’t wan’t mancers running around while I work. They get in your head.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Gabriela demanded.
“I am giving you what you asked for.” Boris pulled up a stool and took a seat close to her. “Your memories.”
“You’re a brain hacker?” Her eyes darted back and forth.
“The best. Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned in and whispered, his breath was rank, and almost every tooth in his wide mouth was brown and blackened. “I’m not really Russian.”
He turned back to his desk. “I am canadian, I hacked my own brain to allow myself to speak Russian and speak with the accent.”
“Why can’t I move? What the fuck did you give to me?” Gabriela struggled as hard as she could, but the most she could manage was to move her fingers and eyes.
“I gave you something to keep you from moving, but hush. I am telling you my secret. You see, I had to hack my own brain to change my identity. I had to flee my homeland, but that’s another story.” He turned to her and pressed what looked like stickers around the base of her head.
Boris turned back to the desk, but quickly pivoted back to her.
“Crimes against humanity!” He roared. “That’s what they charged me with. You hack one politician's brain to make a vote go a certain way, and they call it crimes against humanity. He is mostly okay, too. Only minor brain damage.”
“You’re fucking crazy.” Gabriela hissed.
“You know.” Boris smacked his lips. “I have never been with a gen-perfect before. I could give you a try, and erase the memory. It would be like nothing ever happened for you.”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Gabriela screamed.
“I said I could,” Boris yelled back. “Not that I would. I am a gentlemen!”
Gabriela’s eye darted around the room, looking for anything or anyone that could help her.
“The stickers are nano fiber filaments. When I activate them they are going to hurt, and a lot.” Boris mumbled. “They have to go deep, and I need you to keep you awake. I paralyzed you because there is so much thrashing around when I give you back your memories. And we can’t have that.”
Boris turned to her one last time and smiled. “Here we go.”
Gabriela’s eyes opened wide from the searing pain that spread through her skull. She screamed, and that scream seemed to fade into a digital shriek as she fell into hell.