Chapter 1: The Operator and The Officer.
Audio Excerpt from Abyssnet Documentary [A Corps’ Guide to New California: Westcrook], narrated by Holovision Host, Abraham Parez.
So of all the Free Cities in the world, you stuck-up corporates have come to New California… The city where everything glows, but only the wealthy shine. We’re the real frontier of the future, up to all sorts of nasty things that your mighty and honorable leaders would never legalize. We know what you’re here for, and it ain’t for the heaven-piercing skyscrapers and bright neon lights.
You’re here to get down and dirty with the fiends! To experience the grit and raw energy of a world not mandated by a corp guidebook glued to your eyes. You don’t want to get fucked anymore, you want to do the fucking. America’s west-coast where pleasure and pain are one and the same! So come in and enjoy; whether you’re a masochist or a sadist, you’ll fit right in with the rest of us freaks! You ever wanted to see a man get skinned alive for pissing on his neighbor’s lawn, or witness a gunfight every second day of the week? This is the right place.
But what… in the goddamn hell were you thinking about going to Westbrook? Urgh, it’s like chewing wax in my mouth just saying that name, there’s a reason the locals — and by that, I mean all four hundred million residents of New California — call it Westcrook.
Coming here means you’re either criminally deranged or criminally stupid. This is the land without law, so if you need a scrappin’ tourist guide then you’re already one step in the gutter. So no, I won’t be saying shit about the places to avoid or else I’d have quite the lethal knocking at my door tonight.
As for places to go, now that I can help a’plenty as long as you’ve got the Shards to spend. And you better, or the Scrappers might pry a limb or two off you — I bet they’re real eager to see a Corp-turned-corpse!
For now, let’s settle with one of my personal favorites. You ever wanted to program a girl or guy for a night to be whatever fantasy you wanted? This shit’s been outlawed for two centuries, but if your desires burn as much mine do, then head over to the—
June 1st 2497
9:25 PM
The Toxin Club
Ripley
The club was the same as ever, neon light crept from beneath my door and the hub-dub of bass rattled my tools. One day, I was going to scream at them. One day. Tch, it would probably be drowned out by the music and Shaun — my boss and the head honcho of the Snake Fangs — would roll his eyes at me. It took every ounce of my concentration to settle my hand in position, although calling it a hand was an understatement.
It was my mother’s arm attached to my shoulder. Specifically, crude metal shaping down the glenohumeral joint into a large, clunky, but well-designed Shard Operating Claw. An Iron-Grade Shardware worth more than the measly apartment we lived in, her heart and soul had gone into this piece of tech…
I couldn’t hide my frown, that statement may have been too literal.
As soon as I housed the nervous-integration chip in with a satisfying click, my door slammed open to an eruption of music and light into my den.
“Is it done? I don’t know if I can handle this anymore, Ripley!” Selene shouted, and I held my breath still. I knew what she would be wearing, I knew why she wore it, and I knew what I was doing to her.
Fuck this place.
A smile cracked onto my scowl despite the conflict within me, enough for her to see it from the side of my face and I tried my best to conceal the dark bags under my eyes by angling into the darkness. “You expect anything less from me? I’ve been waiting on you for hours.”
I hastily clamped the chip shut, the trapezoidal block of metal no wider or taller than two fingers. A Neuroframe. Society’s most vital piece of technology in this day and age — a computer capable of digesting troves of biological and electrochemical data off your body; it could connect your mind to the SecondNet; and most importantly, understand the secrets of your Implant — all contained on the back of your neck. It was difficult to find a single adult in the city without one, and now I was introducing someone I lo- someone I cared about…
…to the worst parts of a Neuroframe’s usage.
“Uh huhhh.” Selene didn’t believe me, what else was new? “You sure you’re in a state to put that thing on me? I mean… I trust you, but I don’t know if I want my brain meddled with when you’re pushing a day awake.”
“That’s exactly why I have a Frame implanted in the first place—” I tapped the back of my neck, a metallic ringing sounded out. “—Besides, whole process’ been automated since the last century,” I callously remarked, before feeling the sting behind my statement. There was a difference between why I got one, and why she was getting one.
Or perhaps, there was no difference at all.
I waved to the reclining chair in the corner of my room, about the only place that was clean here. “Just lie down, get comfortable. The procedure’ll only take a few minutes and then you’ll be fine as a synth.”
That was a lie. She wouldn’t be able to walk for the next day as her brainstem gradually got used to having a piece of metal hugging it. Still, it calmed her down. That was what was most important.
I finally faced the light Selene stood against, her figure illuminated by the backdrop of neon pink bleeding into her hair like how the evening sky sunk into the oceans according to the holograms at city square. For a girl in the club, she was known to be exceedingly high-quality as much as the thought disgusted me. Excellent gene-therapy during her youth had shaped her to be a supermodel in the making.
Violet irises framed by locks of twisting pink, good heritage gave her a fantastic body underneath a slimmed face with angled eyes — about the only thing unnatural was her ‘naturally’ pink hair as her parents had wanted. She had bleached her roots blonde to hide that fact from the other girls.
Her glimmering outfit of black satin revealed a perfect body that digested fat in hours, exposing skin from her face down to her cleavage and midriff that had never once faced acne or been stretched beyond its limits. Hell, she naturally produced moisturizers in her sweat.
If I went into her curves, or the nose that crunkled perfectly as she giggled… I would never stop.
This wasn’t the life she deserved.
But she’d come to me for help… I just didn’t know any other way.
In the end, I only dragged her down with me.
She needed protection from the debt collectors, the Snake Fangs could offer that. It wasn’t some show of generosity, the Founders knew Shaun would cut the hands off anyone who pinched a Shard from him, but they took less than some of the other gangs. Much, much less. At least there was some false perversion of brotherhood.
Here, I was being paid Shardyne. If I was with Metal Heavens, I’d be paid with a heartbeat. As for Selene… I didn’t want to think about it.
We had made bad choices, but not the worst ones.
My teeth clamped down even as I smiled, and I guided her to the op-chair. It was a stark contrast to see such a beautiful girl laying on a piece of equipment designed for what amounted to torture, but there was a market for that.
Especially at this club. Once more, I stiffened my breathing to curse the thoughts running through my head.
I focused on my metal hand as I listened to the voice of my mother from a memory, her advice bleeding into my action. “When you operate, Rip, focus on the patient’s needs. I’ve had gang members shivering so hard even under ‘stesia that they reject the frame. I know this job makes you angry, it makes you scared, it makes you… bare. You’ll work your way out of it one day, one step at a time even when you fall.”
I didn’t have to fake my smile anymore, the process was easy and it made a quick Sheddy as always. “Don’t worry, you’ll get through this job and escape it one day. One step at a time.” I then turned the operating light on, briefly blinded before staring at Selene with renewed confidence-
Selene’s violet eyes glistened under the operating light, wet. Had- had she been crying the entire time? I did the only thing I could to console my friend, I squeezed her shoulder with my flesh hand. But a small part of me was excited at seeing her conflicted emotions. “If you’re- if you’re having second thoughts, tell me. Doctor’s consent and all that.”
Her mouth twitched, her gaze flicked away from me and she wiped her tears with her arm. I stayed still for a few seconds, hundreds of words I wanted to say to her clawing at my mind, a part of me was hoping she would call this off.
The Founders knew I wanted to scream at her to do so.
Finally, her voice wavered through even as she kept her eyes away from my own. “It hurts. First few days here I was surrounded by men and women alike, they gave me enough attention to think I was a Founder. Then they found out I never got chipped, that I was just… me. A human. That I couldn’t be programmed to do the things they wanted. I knew this job would make me do things I didn’t want to, but… is that all I’m worth?”
Mascara smeared the side of her arm with every word, the workers here didn’t use waterproof makeup because some of the patrons liked the look of it being ruined. “You should have seen their faces when they realized I wasn’t a puppet they could pick and choose. They were disgusted! Why fuck a model when you can sync up to another’s brain, when you can make them into whatever you want for an hour? And the girls working here, you should hear them! All their talk about how I’m going to be stuck as a-”
She stopped speaking and I didn’t know why, hell, I couldn’t even hear my own voice in my head. This was a mistake. All of this. I should have never reached out to her… but I had been so weak. I needed someone.
“Are you okay?” That sound from her cut through my wallowing, it was a voice and phrase I’d heard countless times before. The one person who kept me sane the day I’d replaced my arm three months ago, during the recent days I’d spent by my mother’s bedside.
“I just…” My voice broke, why? I’d cried enough about this already! “I don’t like seeing you so hurt. You don’t deserve this, it’s unfair what happened to your parents and to you. Your debt, the crash, you deserve so much better.”
And there it was, the floodgates. To think I’d kept myself together so well for this long to hide it from her, a project months in the making.
I bent my head down, I couldn’t look at her. Hell, how could she even look at me? Her best friend was about to give random strangers the permission to shut off her emotions, to let them do whatever they wanted to her. I couldn’t- I couldn’t-
And then, then, then… I felt her warmth. Her hands rustled in my hair, her bare stomach against my cheek as she leaned her weight on me.
“You’re all I have left, Ripley. No matter what we go through, we’ll face it together. All this bullshit with my debt, the Implant for your mother, we’ll get through it… one step at a time, like she says.”
Warmth burned the darkness clouding my heart away, my Neuroframe registering a promotion in the release of oxytocin. That didn’t matter, I didn’t need a computer to tell me I cared about her.
I rose my head from the drenched armrest, unsure of what to do, but I kept my face solid. Unwavering. “Selene, I… this procedure will change you. The Personality Editing Matrix in this Neuroframe is gated by the Datashield here at the club to only be editable with payment and consent, but it means for a few forgetful moments, you won’t be who you are. Knowing that, I…”
I can’t let you take it. You need to run away, stay with me and my mother for a couple days. I’ll explain everything to her. We’ll find a way to pay off your parent’s debt that doesn’t require you to sell your body and mind. I’ll make that money. I know exactly what a Personality Editing Matrix does to a person. I’m the one with the most…
…Experience.
I sunk into my chair. “I want to make sure you’re aware of the weight behind the decision. This club is known for their dolls, patrons pay good money for it, plenty tipping just on looks alone. A few months will net you about a couple Bronze Shards… it’s a good solution but keep in mind… it’s not the only solution. It’ll take years to pay off your parents’ debt.”
My gaze planted on Selene, her perfect face captured in the most quintessential painting of acceptance.
Acceptance…
There were few words I was expecting her to say, maybe she would mouth off on me for ignoring the things she had said but it was hardly the first time I’d rather not speak about… things.
“Tell me honestly, does it hurt?” She wiped her tears.
“Like a motherfucker. But only in the form of headaches and some muscle spasms for a day, I have plenty of meds to help with that. The more difficult part is resyncing your brain to your body, that can take a while.” I answered honestly this time.
“What about your arm?” Her eyes glanced at the claws I had for fingernails, although they were too brittle to be used as weapons. Each finger housed surgical tools, some split apart to become multiple tools.
It was a family heirloom of sorts, my grandfather had been Sharded and passed it on to my mother, now it was on me.
Now it was my turn to be poisoned, unless I could get one — an Implant.
A BUG. A source of Warp Energy, to transcend my mind into my Shardware.
To become one with it. It was the only way to compete on a larger scale, to dig myself out and away from the hellhole that was this club, and the city surrounding it.
The Fifth Swarm was three years away.
With it would arrive danger and opportunity alike. Just another year or two of unlicensed Shard Operating, and then this city would be so desperate they wouldn’t care if I had a fancy degree attached to my name. Hell, they’d even strap weapons onto serial killers if it meant survival.
We’re all just blood and steel to the MAL anyway. It was the irony of a greater being that those monsters were the source of the power I wanted.
Needed. For both me, and my mother.
She was dying. Slowly. I wouldn’t let her.
“Removing my arm hurt even worse than a motherfucker. But it honestly feels weird, still does. Sometimes it’s like I can feel my mother speaking through it, her voice drifting into my head as I operate. Precise instructions, information about nerve plexii, each whir sometimes whispers a piece of information critical to the procedure… but when I’m not operating, it shoots up pain through my arm. Like my organic body is punishing me for giving up a piece of itself.”
“You should have given it to me.” She pouted, that same playful pout even amidst the ruined makeup on her face.
“What, my arm? My organic one?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it.
“Yup. I’d show it the same love and care I show you. Since you were going to throw it away anyway.” She somehow breached a laugh from both herself and I.
“I didn’t throw it away, I donated it.”
“You sold it.” She corrected me. “For what, a thousand sheds?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“That’s a month’s rent.”
“It’s worth more, Ripper. Every bit of you is worth more than that…” Selene let her hand rest on my own metallic limb, somehow I could feel the phantom sensation even through the lack of nerve endings. I cupped my flesh hand over hers, then pushed the courage within me to press my forehead against hers.
“You’re a psychopath, you know that? Can’t believe I’m putting a Neuroframe in you, what’s next? Going to buy an Imperium Salamander Claw and have me chrome up your body till you outshine a NeoCore Enforcer?”
Her eyes lit up, like she had dug out a bit of treasured joy from the years of pain they had faced. “That used to be the plan Ripper! Remember, NeoCore? Us against the MALs as agents of peace with our big fancy powers, you can hear it right? The way they scream at us as soon as we enter their den, their little fleshy-wire legs scrambling as we roll up there armed with Silver Implants. You with a B.U.G, me with a S.I.M.”
I giggled like a child, the way we used to a decade ago when we dreamt of accomplishing big things without a care for responsibility. Back when the chances of us getting an Implant weren’t just midnight fantasies. First playing thugs and cops, then NeoCore and MALs, planning to go to the same higher education facility.
And now, just hoping to get out of this fucking brothel.
Desperate, I looked for a distraction within my words. “You content with just Silver? I’ll skip Gold and aim for Titanium, Sel.”
She cackled, and then found it way too easy to speak her next sentence. “Why not higher then? Hell, let’s go all the way to the top! To Platinum!”
I was in a laughing spirit, so why not embellish it. “To Platinum and beyond!”
We both found solace in the memories of our childhood, of our innocence and ironically enough that seemed to settle her. She rustled in her seat, fitting herself in like hundreds of patients I’d seen done beforehand.
“You’re doing it?” I couldn’t hide my previous smile from wavering.
“Just do the frame for now… I’ll keep the Personality Matrix a secret for a bit. Say that it still needs to be modded in. After all, I need a frame if I’m going to want to understand what my S.I.M does, don’t I?” She kept up her grin, and I was thankful for it.
“Gotcha. Now, I’m gonna put you on ‘stesia, the dreams you have during the process will be all wack but try your best not to fight it. It’ll make the whole synchronizing bit much easier.” I so badly wanted to list off all the terrifying bits of the procedure to her, but the truth was it was hardly a tough procedure.
She nodded, and I adjusted my Op-Claw, my ring finger peeled back coils of metal to allow a needle to sprout forth. The finger bent sharply, elongating until it was thrice as long as my other fingers with a compartment for a vial. Scrounging my pockets for a second, I stuck in a simple vial of High-concentrated Propofol.
As the vial clicked in, I felt a buzz run up my arm. Warp Energy from the Iron-Grade Shards used to make my arm. How long until it would put me in the same state my mother was in? Three months in, I’d already started to feel some symptoms, trembling and waves of nausea. Would it get worse until I got an Implant?
But that would only come after my mother gets hers.
“Sweet dreams.” I whispered, and she could only nod back.
I slid the needle into her arm, even with her skin modded to be tougher than most, the needle still bypassed with ease. It was a matter of seconds before her eyes fluttered asleep. And my mind shattered to chaos, I didn’t dwell on the thoughts, they would only mess me up.
I let muscle memory do the rest, as the mechanical chair fastened her body tight and flipped her over. A simple incision on the back of her neck offered a taste of blood to the Neuroframe’s spine and it expanded like an insect complete with six ‘legs’. A count of the vertebrae ‘till I found the C1 segment, and I slid the Neuroframe’s ejected hook right over the bone.
It dug deeper, the spinous process of each vertebrae just skimming the frame as wiry threads snapped around the pedicles of the round bones. I removed my hand, sending a signal for the frame to inject itself.
I could only watch as the six spider-like legs of the frame wrapped themselves around her nape, digging in like claws until blood tread down her neck that I then wiped away. Starting from her second to her seventh cervical vertebrae, the Neuroframe would spread fine neurowiring over the next three hours to overlap her entire central nervous system down to the sacrum, like worms digging through soil and binding to the vital flesh of her spinal chord.
That was it.
The surgery was done and the trapezoidal computer was perfectly housed upon her neck, its compact size would barely even bulge through the curtain of her pink hair. Her body slowly turned the right side up with the chair and I bent down, my mechanical pinky finger shifting into a plier that gently opened her eye as I slid in a clear lens over them with my ring finger.
These new lenses would give her Neuroframe the ability to project information into her vision like the HUD on that old pad she’d been using. If she were to ever get an Implant, the Neuroframe and the Implant would fuse together into a single circuit-system and provide real time information about her Adapter Development. That was it’s original purpose two centuries ago. With a BUG Implant, the wires of her Frame and neurons of her spinal cord would be one-and-the-same and she would be able to cultivate her Implant. As for a SIM, Neuroframes had all sorts of advanced gene-reading tech to divulge the secrets of those Mutations. You didn’t even need to be connected to the Net.
You shouldn’t. Last thing anyone in this city wanted was for your Implant’s data to be scalped by the corporations. Strangely, it was too easy to jailbreak a Frame, I’d always suspected they had their own advanced methods of extracting Implant data from us.
Just 3000 sheds more to reach my five-thousand Shardyne goal for an Iron-Grade Implant. Three rents worth, just another few months and-
My eye caught a glimpse of the familiar metal’s sharp reflection. No, not just mere metal. Shardware, the epitome of technological development post-Swarm. I slid my chair over to the container in the corner, it was filled to the brim with old Shardware from disjointed limbs to scrapped skeletal frameworks, mostly Iron Grade but I caught the glancing glow of a Bronze SynTec Steelsight, two spherical orbs the size of an eye capable of tracking a bullet’s trajectory. It was pricey enough to pay a year’s worth of rent — and more.
I left the box alone, those were upcoming mods for the gang in charge of the club once I was done tinkering with them. If I sold one of those without permission, it wouldn’t be me who was fired. It would be a gun.
Best to play it safe, slowly. One step at a time.
Besides, they treated me like family. I couldn’t just up and betray them like that even if Shaun could be an asshole with his demands and payment.
With my mind finally left with nothing else to occupy it, I set myself to monotonously draw out schemes. There was so little I could infer from the fractured Iron Neuroframe on my table, and by the time I was able to understand a single detail of it, my snores permeated the tiny walls of my clinic.
————
When Selene had woken up, she was relaxed, in tune with herself and determined. From what she remembered of her dreams, she only knew that Ripley was there. Eyes sharpened behind the rims of magnifying spectacles, lean but not scrawny, yet fierce like a rusted knife. He was there.
And that was all she needed.
The clamps holding her had already loosened and she wobbled out of the chair, laughing as words shook infront of her in a hologram only she could see.
Ungraded Neuroframe Installed: Mazhyr Metronome… Ripley’s Version :”)
* Welcome to your new Cyberlife where you do cyberthings for the purposes of cybermoney. We hope you have a cyberfantastic cybertime.
Now you’re probably so shaky you think you’re going to piss your pants. Don’t worry. You’re not imagining it, that’s an actual possibility, so Selene… here’s a tutorial to get things in order. It starts like this.
Walk.
She tried, but almost immediately fell as it felt like the step she had taken was instead a leap onto meat-jelly.
Just kidding!
“You ass!” She hissed, but grinned anyway.
Take things slow, precious. Focus on your fingertips, and focus on what you want to feel with them, then imagine yourself reaching for and feeling that object.
She knew what she wanted to do, she wanted to strangle Ripley’s neck. So she did just that, envisioning Ripley's imaginary neck and guiding her shaking fingers over to it, even though there was nothing tangible they stilled as her fingers made contact with the image in her head.
Her heart beat faster as she pulled her fingers up to where his hair would be. Then she took a step closer, closer to him.
With the imaginary construct in her head, she found the courage to say the words she could never say to the real one. The things she was too shameful to say. “Hey I know you’re just imaginary… but Ripley, how about tomorrow we catch some coffee before my shift. A- a date? I think that would be-“
“What’d-chu-say?” Ripley’s voice echoed from her side, his face and hair plastered against the desk. Half asleep, but still very much with the sense of hearing.
Silence bored through Selene.
“Where’s my meds?” She peeped quickly.
Half snoring, Ripley pointed to her bag. Before immediately falling asleep again.
Selene decided to change her imaginary objective for now, her bag would suffice.
June 2nd 2497
12:52 AM
The Toxin Club
Diana
The New California Police State, if summarized, was understaffed but acted like they had thrice the manpower to throw around blindly on cases like this. I didn’t understand what I was doing here. All I knew was that they input an algorithm to look for a young female officer, no Implant, who could act desperate enough and have the right… qualities to be noticed by a club like this. It was more like a brothel from the looks of it.
This is why it sucked to be genetically modified to be a perfect human being.
I’d been asked many times if I was born in a Cradle, I lied and told them ‘no’. Then I told them the truth: that I was a bastard.
To say The Toxin Club wasn’t my place was an understatement, as I navigated past the crowded dance floor up to a balcony overlooking it, I was met by harsh reality. Private booths, the eager eyes of the workers as they whispered about targets, the even more eager eyes of the patrons. It was like entering a store where I was both the buyer and the merchandise.
As if the gaudy music and blasting lightshow wasn’t enough to make me puke, I’d dealt with creeps like this enough all my li-
“Hey there gorgeous… what brings a lonely lady like you here.” A man’s voice crept from the side the second I sat on a barstool, I already knew this was going to end badly. But I knew my cards, I tended to attract attention; good and bad. Today, I had to lean in on the worse audience — but that didn’t come easy or happily from me.
As much as I hated my biological father, the acting lessons he paid for served me well in my ambition to become an Investigator for the Intelligence department. Just one more shitty mission as an Officer, and my promotion was confirmed, I’d be a Third-Rank Investigator. I’d receive an Implant, a SIM. I didn’t care what grade it would be, I’d make those Mutations work in my favor.
Then I could really make a difference in this city.
“Relieving stress. Isn’t that what we all come here for?” I answered curtly, taking a drink of my brew at the bar. I didn’t know yet if this man was just some other customer or a worker, but if I angled this right, I could wean out some information from him.
“Can I help with that?” His voice slithered down my ear like a worm. I held back my shiver. I finally looked back at him, mid-40s man with a goatee and beer-belly? No, never a worker here. The stench of faint cologne and the poor-fitting suit he wore seemed to say he was in a corporation, a low-level employee at that and not a legacy hire if he didn’t have fat metabolism gene-therapy. Probably here to take out his frustration from a long day spent with nepotism-hired bosses.
“Depends, the only thing that could clear my mind is something strong, if you get my meaning.” I sipped my drink, a slow drain as I gave him time to ponder my question.
“What’re you looking for?” His eyes wavered, and he fumbled in his pockets. He clearly didn’t have what I was looking for, and chances are what was being sold here today may not be drugs. Nervous and clearly here to spend a quick Shed for some of the dolls here, he must have somehow convinced himself that he could somehow woo another customer.
I let him know as much. “It’s clear that you don’t possess what I have in mind. But what you do have is something the girls in the club will like very much, try them, you’ll have better luck.”
Jaws clenched, he grumbled and slid off to the side. He didn’t even try getting my name or any information about me, of course he wasn’t working here. Not as a gang affiliate, just a drunk Corpo.
But if there was one thing you could count on in any establishment such as this, it was snoopy bartenders.
“Was he bothering you hon’?” A calm and soothing voice approached from the other side of the counter, a dark-skinned woman with green eyes and even more vividly green hair. The kind you would only see if you ventured into the wilds humanity hadn’t reclaimed yet. “Saw you gulp that drink down as soon as he approached, you looking for a refill?”
I turned to the woman, the Police ID-Scanner in my lens indicated her name was Lucille Redwood. Known worker in the club for over sixteen years, and a probable member of the Snake Fangs gang who owned this place off the books. “Please do. How hard is it to just spend a night looking at pretty people, drinking away without some old man pestering me?”
She was already topping my drink. “You have no idea how much I can relate to that. You got a name, darlin’?”
“Diana. Diana Jones.” I let the drink rest for a moment, didn’t want my head getting too woozy.
“Well, Diana, you look pretty young to be facing so much stress that you need to come here.” Lucille leaned in close, studying me without fear. “And what’s it that you have in mind?”
Here it was, my opportunity. Time to place the line and hope the fish takes the bait, not that I’d ever been good at fishing in my teens. And not like this District had water clean enough to keep one alive, you’d have to head all the way to an ecological sanctuary for that. Letting out an elongated sigh, I plastered my sights into her cybernetic gaze. “I’ll admit. The old man wasn’t wrong when it came to Shardyne. I’m in a tough spot. Issue is, can’t trust he won’t pull something sneaky on me without protection. I’m here to… let’s just say, scout for opportunities.”
Just a sprinkle of truth to hide the lie.
“You in a tough spot with money? I’m finding that hard to believe. You’re gene-edited so beautifully that I don’t need an Implant to see it.” For a brief second, those green eyes flashed with an uncomfortable light that ripped through my image. I hoped that my undercover DataShield would hide my true identity.
If she figured me out, I couldn’t tell. But revealing an Implant, an Analyze BUG at that? Was she trying to ward me off in case I’m bad news? From my side, I noticed the shifting of various guards as they angled themselves to listen in on our conversation, several of them Adapters and all had green-purple bandanas wrapped around their left arm. Snake Fangs.
Carefully, it seemed like some more truth had to be blended into my lies. “A bastard child of two corporate Gene-Edited. Don’t know my mother and my father left me enough to survive a few months after I turned eighteen, if barely. Lived with my uncle ‘round New Washington most of my life, so I came here for a fresh start. The life I’ve lived isn’t the prettiest. I’m looking around, either to find something worthwhile to spend the little money I have or to find a job. Either way, I’m good.”
I could already tell what Lucille was thinking, it was the same as the cops who drilled me every day. Thinking my looks meant I was entitled, and now I was doing them a favor by showing how I’d ‘come down to earth’ like the Founders.
Lucille cupped my chin and stared into my eyes with no fear or shame, a sudden movement that caught me off guard. That’s okay, I told myself, I would be nervous in a situation such as this… I am nervous.
The middle-aged woman scanned me up and down without her Implant, and seemed to devour the details of my body, rather uncomfortably for me. “A blonde so white your hair’s nearly snow but also shiny like metal, equally silver eyes, you’re not Implanted so I guess that rings true with your story with your parents not supporting you. Skin appears flawless, no imperfections there and can’t say anything negative about your ass or breasts. Hmm, doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, we’ll get you trained. You work out? Body’s toned enough to put up a good fight if needed… only issue is the Neuroframe.”
“My Neuroframe?” That left me puzzled.
“Just a little modification done by our Op’ for our customers. He’s a good kid, just needs to get his balls wet more.” Lucille laughed, and I felt myself uncomfortably pushing to join in as well.
I tried to steer the question away, at this rate, I would have to actually work here before I found anything out. The deal was set to happen today, I just needed to know if this club was the place.
An idea sprung to my mind, risky and more likely to fail but what choice did I have? I leaned into the most potent venom in any club’s workforce. Gossip. “Heard the Corps here pay premium for premium, and that they tip. They as sick as everyone says they are?”
Lucille’s eyes prickled, a small smile lifting. “More. One of the girls here has just gotten her Neuroframe installed a few hours ago. We got a guy for her already. Him and his wife actually. You remember that first day, when your mind sees things that aren’t there and it’s like your dreams and reality blend in as one? He’s got a thing for girls in that state, and he pays heavy.”
I leaned forward, perfectly capturing her interest as I intensified my approach. “Let me guess. a Bronze Shard?”
I felt so disgusted.
Lucille gave a side glance to the guards, raising five fingers discretely as she poured me another. 25,000 Shardyne… and she was trying to bait me with the promise that most of the money would go to me. And not the criminals who owned this joint.
Now was the time to deliver an ultimatum. “Oh no, I think that’s too much drink for me. I still gotta check out some other places… I think it’s my time to leave. If the other clubs nearby aren’t as good, I’ll come back here and-“
I held my smile as Lucille interrupted, offering me just the chance to get what I wanted. “Before that, how about we get someone to show you around? A private tour. You can meet the Shard-Op, he’ll give you a good run around of the club and well… you can talk to my manager if you want.”
Her manager? Oh please, Lucille was very clearly the most senior girl here if she had permission to let me wander backstage. Before I could even nod, a guard had appeared next to me. Tall and gruff, he was the stereotypical gang member if you ignored his long dangling pearl earrings.
“Brim. Please show Diana to Ripley and Selene.”
Brim nodded, ushering me into the very clearly labeled ‘Restricted to Staff Personnel’ backrooms. He didn’t speak a word, unnaturally silent for the next two minutes as we walked deeper into the club’s structural chasm. I spotted a passing elevator with its only destination being to an office, seemingly the sole one in the club. I had spotted it from the main lounge of the club, a wide room overlooking the dancefloor with one-way windows.
A private spot perfect for orchestrating illegal deals.
Only once the thunder-rumbling ground softened and I had escaped migraine-inducing strobe lights had Brim stopped, shaking his head to the last door in the corridor. If behind that door was truly a Shard Op’, then I had played my cards well, but if it turned out I had been lured… I fastened my thick bracelet tight, prepared.
As I approached, I heard voices speaking beyond the door and I froze as they mentioned something of value to me. “What’s got Lucille’s nerves so wracked up? They having a meet upstairs?”
No, I couldn’t enter just yet…
I turned back to Brim, doing my best to pull off that stupid girl voice guys always seem to fall for. “Ah, I’m so nervous now… actually, is there a washroom somewhere on this floor?”
For the first time, he spoke, and it was much lighter than I expected. Kinda sleepy actually. “Door to my right.” He leaned and kicked the door lightly, a hollow sound ringing out.
That would be good enough, I walked past him before tapping my bracelet three times.
Fingerprint Recognition Confirmed, First-Rank Officer Diana Jones.
Standard-Grade SynTec Covert-BraceShocker reconfiguring.
The sound of my bracelet transforming clearly alerted something so I acted quick. In my admittedly not so smooth turn due to my heels, I aimed the pistol and shot out a silent pulse of electricity right at his Neuroframe. It crackled and Brim seized in seconds as fumes bellowed out, I had to pounce to catch his body from falling.
Now, it was time to figure out what the hell was going on.