Chapter 28 - Relics

[Refresh complete.

Essence at full.

Energy restored.]

I reached for the light.

An uneventful cycle change. The best kind. The system was refreshed, the programs rebooted.

My eyes were now only a little sore, and no longer hypersensitive to the light. That was a relief.

I sat on my pallet and experimented, trying to zoom my vision in and out. It worked. No different than trying to focus one’s vision on any point or object, my ocular implants adjusted like lenses on a camera. Up to four times the magnification, also known as ‘scanning.’ Of course, there was very little to see in my tube and very little distance from which to see it. But the implants worked.

I got dressed and rode the elevator to the ground floor, then visited the Restoration Point straightaway without incident. I paid 100 Crypt to back up my new and improved self: armor, weapons, implants and all. My True Self (™).

Only 371 Crypt left and 10 free metabytes. But I was satisfied with my purchases and upgrades. I could deal damage up close or at range, cast an illusion and absorb a target’s Energy. My cumulative defensive total was 70, and I carried seventeen .32 caliber rounds on my person. With my new implants, Perception was now my highest Statistical category at 40.

Backup complete, I returned to my residence and removed a single Voynich Manuscript page from my storage cube. I made up my mind to take it to Fancy Jack for appraisal and I was more comfortable carrying just the one for now.

But there was a problem. When I made the decision to sacrifice myself, intervening to protect Rook from the Huodou, the calling card Fancy Jack gave me was lost. The address to his apartment. I never backed it up.

Once again, I realized that actions and decisions have consequences. Often unintended consequences.

I tried to think. I met Fancy Jack near an abandoned or closed underground mall after the ColSec interrogation. But his apartment could be anywhere in The Commons. I was in such a rush to join the raid I hadn’t paid much attention which direction he went after our conversation.

I visited the Information Kiosk and inquired after the virtual assistant for Fancy Jack’s address.

I apologize for any inconvenience, but unfortunately, I am unable to accommodate that request. Also, I am not programmed to recognize Volunteers by their unofficial aliases.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Strike one. Next, I asked around at the Rathskeller, keeping my eyes out for Camel or Little Knifey. No sign of either. Not even with 4x zoom.

None of the Volunteers could tell me exactly where to find Fancy Jack’s ‘apartment / urban garden / shop’, but a few told me it was located in the Kafka Building, an eclectic mixed-use development on an elevated section of The Commons beyond Mendicant Row. They gave me general directions.

It was a long walk. I passed through multiple grungy pedestrian tunnels and scaled steps to bypass steep inclines of jutting concrete. Boarded up storefronts and vandalized windows were everywhere here.

Nice part of town.

Digital billboards and holographic advertisements loomed far overhead, including one for an automated-vehicle taxi service. I zoomed in on the ad. Apparently Volunteers could access the service through any Information Kiosk for a fee. Would have been helpful to know that an hour ago. I kept walking.

Up ahead I perceived a bright glow and increased activity. Mounted work lights and unusual heavy machinery. The swirl of carrion bird Polizei drones. I quickened my pace until I reached a large construction site blocking my path.

Several Polizei bots stood guard. Behind them, tall but flimsy barricades obstructed physical and visual access to the area beyond. The makeshift walls were similarly graffitied and slathered with advertisements, and I couldn’t tell which was more of an eyesore.

But I could tell that something was off. Through cracks in the barricades and also stretching above there appeared to be a deep blankness. A dark void. A hole in The Commons where part of the city once stood. This void was surrounded by scattered chunks of debris pushed together into heaping piles. And strangest of all, columns of moving digital code worked to stitch and fabricate this portion of the city back into existence in real time.

“No loitering or trespassing. This is a crime scene and active work zone,” one of the Polizei bots barked.

Crime scene?

▶ I’m trying to get to the Kafka Building.

The Polizei bots conferred with one another, then the first turned back to me.

“Are you assigned to live in this sector?”

▶ No… I’m trying to visit a friend.

“Friend?”

The word did not seem to compute.

“Until the reconstruction is complete and all evidence gathered, there is no admission beyond this point unless you are a registered resident of this sector. Show me your Volunteer ID.”

▶ No, no. It’s okay. I was just leaving.

I took several strides out of the radius of system activity and observed.

Was there a way I could go around? Another route? In the distance, beyond the rubble, deep darkness, and segments of code, I perceived several buildings built onto what may have been a former highway overpass stretching off in either direction.

Even if I could somehow reach it, I didn’t know the exact apartment where Fancy Jack lived. Would I go knocking door to door trying to find the herbalist?

A realization came to me. That explosion! The ColSec officer mentioned it during my interrogation. There was even a news segment on the train. Mendicant Row. A suspected Rez den. Ground zero of an explosion damaging property and avatars. This was where it happened. But this blast radius didn’t resemble the effects of any type of bomb I could imagine.

Again, the thought bubbled to the surface that actions have consequences. But who was responsible for this action? This decision? The consequence for me was that I could not reach my destination. Not now. And I didn’t want any more heat from Collective Security. Best not to be hanging around an active crime scene.

I had one Voynich Manuscript page on me. I could take it to the Serpents and see what they had to say. Maybe this wasn’t the type of Relic their leader was interested in. Either way, I would reserve the second page for Fancy Jack just as soon as I could reach him.

That meant another long walk ahead of me. Even longer than before. Any Information Kiosks around to hail a ride? I didn’t think so.