It turns out Bryce’s efforts to disguise himself didn’t mean shit.

He felt the press of eyes on him as he walked along Ermita, Manila. Confident in his subterfuge, especially after six months away from the spotlight and cooped up in his condo, he wanted to be near the people again. The result, however, was more annoying than anything.

One boy ran up to Bryce, holding up a phone he had been using to watch an episode of a show Distro Premiere had pumped out called Rending Steel Warrior: Death Saga 9. Bryce wasn’t sure if this was the ninth installment, but the thought left him when he saw the character—a robotic half-humanoid, half-dinosaur—stepping through a sea full of zombies as the robot’s legion of crow-like drones encircled it. Even the structure it approached was reminiscent of the mansion.

The boy jumped up and down, no doubt remembering Bryce as the Inspiration for this. Bryce just shrugged, handed the kid some money, and told him to leave him alone. As soon as he did, three other kids flooded towards him, hands outstretched. He handed them all 100 PHP notes, found the closest unoccupied fleet vehicle, got inside, and plotted a course halfway across the district. There, he saw a Mang Inasal— a barbecue chicken fast food joint—and waited at the very back until past closing time. Even as the doors closed, he could tell the staff hesitated to ask him to leave. A few of them even snapped selfies, his mopey self in the background.

Maybe this was the life Bryce was doomed to: stepping out into the streets only at night, barely able to make friends with strangers aside from being their eye candy. Even calling it “eye candy” was superficial. He didn’t think of himself much of anything. Just… lucky. Money should have fixed that, but it didn’t.

One of the restaurant’s staff stepped out from the counter and sat across the restaurant from Bryce. She kept her head down, buried in her phone. She was around his age but looked a bit younger.

A notification flashed on Bryce’s wearable.

[Proximity Feed Scanner: Feed Detected.]

It was the same app he used during the Tondo Tussle to detect video feeds streaming his proximity. Sure enough, a television show Bryce did not recognize played on the app, but there were no observers.

Bryce busied himself in his open augmented reality, making a show of watching a news video feed. But, really, he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman’s actions, not even when she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Black Fire vape.

Then, she started doing something strange. She began taking little puffs. Not huge inhalations like Bryce always had, thinking that’s what was needed to make Black Fire work. Instead, the woman barely breathed in the vapor, looking like she was sniffing it.

Just as she did, Bryce’s snapper app updated. The woman snapped into existence in the television show, providing over a church scene in some Filipino drama. Her form hovered above the pews briefly before flickering in and out.

Bryce had never seen the trick before, and now that he knew about it, he’d have to try it next time. She was pulling herself slowly into Black Fire, not all at once, dipping her toes in and not completely going under. Even as Bryce watched her, he saw her eyelids flicker like camera lenses.

She’s playing with it, he thought. The way she flickered herself in and out, not fully immersing. She knew what she was doing.

Bryce shook himself out of it, acting like he’d just been staring off. That’s when the idea came to him.

Bryce opened his chat with Herman.

[Bryce: Hey. You awake?]

A reply came a couple of minutes later.

[Herman: Seems like always these days. What’s up?]

[Bryce: Do we have any record of those Black Fire testers from the Laguna raid?]

[Herman: You mean IDs? No, Bryce. No one lets us touch that stuff.]

[Bryce: What about faces?]

[Herman: Might. Why?]

[Bryce: I need it. Ms. Reed’s cost center.]

[Herman: This shit again. Alright. Brb.]

Herman’s reply came a minute later.

[Herman: Yeah, we got them.]

The woman stood, waving to her coworkers before heading out the door. Before she left, Bryce snapped a photo of her face with her wearable. He felt like a pervert doing it, but he had to be sure of something.

He sent her picture over to Herman.

[Bryce: Tell me if she’s one of the testers.]

The AUG had folded to about a quarter of its size, and underneath Bryce’s jacket, it made no noise as he got up and left the restaurant, keeping his head low as he followed the woman.

[Herman: Yup, but I don’t have her details, as I said.]

[Bryce: That’s fine. Thanks.]

He had already confirmed what he wanted.

During his meal inside, Bryce had been thinking of ways to track the albularyo without relying on it coming to him. He needed to understand where it was going, but also where it had been and who it had talked to. When first meeting her, the albularyo had pulled Bryce out of his Black Fire high almost every time. Was it a stretch to assume it was doing this to other people?

Bryce walked quickly after her, sinking his head and not trying to look more suspicious than he already was. He was fully aware of the presence he instilled, especially at night. If the PNP saw him stalking the woman, they’d probably pull him over, and he’d lose her trail.

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He followed her down a dark alley. At one point, she turned, and Bryce quickly hid inside a door frame. He wasn’t sure if it contained his bulk, but when he peered out, she was on her way again.

Before long, he entered a squatter neighborhood. Corrugated steel made up the walls of the shacks around him. The ground had turned from road to mud. None of this place was paved, or maintained. Trash was strewn everywhere. He may as well have been in Tondo again.

He thought they would stop here, but instead, the woman moved past the neighborhood, stopped at a sari-sari store, and continued until their surroundings turned more modern. Gone were the huts, replaced by well-maintained concrete buildings. They were recently painted a mix of colors, lending a vibrancy to the place. Their driveways were swept clean, and their steel gates barely rusted.

Above him, a capture drone followed, peering down at him. They locked gazes. The thing didn’t flinch, instead rising as if watching him more closely.

The woman moved to a gate near one of the new houses. She fumbled with the lock. This was as good a time as any to see her.

“Excuse me,” Bryce said.

She flicked her eyes his way and immediately turned as if wanting to run.

“Hey hey hey, easy! I’m not the cops!” Bryce shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to ask you…” He looked at the vape still in her hand.

She caught him looking and pocketed it.

“I know what that is,” Bryce said, “and… I don’t want to buy any, either. I just want to… know more about it.”

Her hands came slowly off the lock. “Who are you?”

He shook his head, not answering that question. “Have you noticed anything… strange about that stuff lately?”

She shook her head, undid the lock, and opened the gate. “Go away, American.” Scorn filled that last word.

Bryce felt it, too. He almost wanted to pull a wad of cash out. Manila was a city of money—always would be, and he had enough to bribe anyone into talking. But he didn’t want to. Maybe it would look even worse for her, painting her as an escort or something worse. Plus, he didn’t want her to lie to her just for money. Yet he had no way to build rapport with this woman.

So, he’d have to come out.

“I was there,” he said. “At the mansion.” He swallowed. “I was part of that time that pulled you guys out.”

Bryce wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect. Gratitude or just a sarcastic clap?

Instead, the woman frowned at him. “Well, thanks to you guys, I lost my only source of income.” She nodded to the house. “This is only temporary, you know. They’re going to kick us out in half a year. Do you know how hard it is to find a job in this city?”

The newness of the neighborhood around Bryce suddenly made sense. He thought she was poorer, but Metamatics must have compensated the Black Fire tester, probably with the stipulation of never trying the stuff again. Yet here she was.

“I’m sorry,” Bryce said, “It’s just… important.”

Jet contrails. Curious drones—too curious. His mind sank.

She looked annoyed, ready to call the police. Maybe Bryce looked as defeated as he felt, for she shrugged.

Then, her expression changed. “You really are that guy, aren’t you? Your height kind of matches.”

He nodded, getting a hint of what she was referring to. “Death Saga 9?”

“Nah. I think I saw you in the bootlegs for The Purposed Blade or Rude Awakenings. They’re much better than the Giants versions. That last one was the best romcom I’ve ever seen.” She looked at the lock. “And, you know, it was cool. I told my friends I was there, in the mansion, in Laguna, when all that stuff went down.”

Bryce didn’t want to think how his likeness was used in a romantic comedy, focusing more on the woman’s willingness to open up after they had something in common. “I bet those were good,” he said.

She squinted at him, then. “I didn’t know you were a user.”

“Barely used it. Just a few times.” He needed to be careful what to say. “And when I tried it… strange things happened.”

She smirked. “The whole experience is strange.”

“Not just that.”

“Hmm?” She wore an annoyed expression as if talking to a child. “I don’t know. They haven’t been pumping out a lot of new shows lately. Like, at all. It’s been pretty stale. But before that, there was a wealth of content. I’m just going through all of it now. Did you watch The Crest and its Killers? Love that show.”

“I did,” Bryce said, not elaborating on the context. He leaned on a concrete wall separating the woman’s house from the alley. “I mean…has anyone been… talking to you? And I don’t mean AI actors or anything. Something more real.”

The woman scratched her chin. “Come to think of it, yeah. I guess it happened to you, too?”

Bryce’s eyes went wide. “It” meant the event was singular and iconic. He nodded, willing her to continue.

She looked up to the night sky. “One moment I was watching the season finale of Rude Awakenings. The next, I was in NAIA.”

From there, she recounted the same events Bryce had experienced months ago: the checkout line, the baggage claim, and the strange conversations with the aged woman about her heightened vision of Manila.

The woman cleared her throat as she finished the tale. “She called herself…”

“The albularyo,” Bryce finished. “Yeah, I saw all that too. Do you know if anyone else did?”

She hesitated, wondering if it was worth the answer.

Behind her, inside her house, a light flicked on in the front room.

She turned back. “I have to go. I’m sorry. Please…” she scanned him, “… please don’t bother me again.”

I won’t, Bryce wanted to say, but couldn’t. He was so close to something. Instead, he used the Contacts app on his wearable to send his public-facing phone number to the woman. She hadn’t accepted the request yet.

“Just let me ask you some more questions,” Bryce urged. “It won’t take long.”

The front door opened, and a man—likely the woman’s husband—stepped out. He eyed Bryce.

“Yeah, the way out is that way,” the woman yelled, loud enough that her husband would hear. She pointed back the way Bryce had come. “Don’t go straying into alleyways by yourself, American. It’s not safe.” She said it almost mockingly.

Bryce’s private augment flashed.

[Contact sharing request Denied.]

He shrugged, but before they parted ways, she leaned in and whispered something. “There are people who use the stuff way more than me.”

“Like who?”

The husband moved over to them, but the woman raised a hand. She opened the gate and looked back to Bryce. “The Information Broker,” was all she said before stepping inside.

Bryce looked at the concerned husband. The man’s expression changed to joy as he embraced his wife, took her bag, and led her by the shoulder. The door lock clicked behind them.

If Bryce were honest with himself, he’d admit the presence of that pang of jealousy bubbling inside him. He wished he could talk to someone else about all this—someone who wasn’t his boss or a coworker.

Above them, a captured drone followed them inside the door. When it closed, it turned its cyclopean eye on him.

“What the hell are you planning?” Bryce muttered to it before turning away.

He knew it wouldn’t give him answers, but he’d already learned something new. Whoever this “Information Broker” was, maybe they knew something that could break this whole thing open.

When he realized he was alone, he left the neighborhood.