I sat alone in the back of the executive limousine as the SecuBot ferried me across the nearly imperceptible boundary dividing Royal Heights and The Palisades.
I tried to make conversation.
▶ So, were you originally programmed to drive or did you have to download that skill later?
The bot made no response at all. We continued the trip in awkward silence.
The buildings, mostly mansions and mansionettes, were all of white stucco with faux terracotta roof tiles. Palm trees lined the streets at regular intervals. Plunging cliffs off to one side overlooked the bay I had seen from the MAR train, the warehouse district, and marked prominently on the transit maps. Prime ocean view real estate.
I had been here once before. Not to this shining top layer, but beneath the crust. Crawling through dark service tunnels while hunting, and simultaneously being hunted by, the very hounds of hell. Hard to imagine my companion’s throat being ripped out however many feet below these tony streets.
The limo pulled up in front of a long curved cobblestone stretch of luxurious shops. Elegant marble bollards prevented vehicle thru-traffic. I would have to walk.
▶ Wait here for me. Mrs. Rossignol said you would give me a ride back when I’m done. Okay?
Again, no response. The SecuBot let the limo idle.
Great.
I opened the door and got out, leaving the analog phone behind. I checked the certificates again. Body Sculpting. High-Fashion Boutique. Got it.
I hoped to be able to negotiate a better price with Monique for completing her unusual request. Did I really think her husband had been conspiratorially replaced by an AI program? Who knows. But it was an opportunity to pay off my debt. I would just need a way to receive payment. And that was still off in the future. For now, why not take advantage of some free cosmetic upgrades?
I’d spent lots of money on weapons and mods, but the only thing separating me from the most generic, basic avatar spat out fresh into The Collective, aside from the minor choices of skin tone, eye color, and simple eyebrows, was my hairstyle. The other Volunteers looked so distinctive in comparison.
I started up the street, taking in the surroundings. There were other people here, but not many. Mostly women carrying large shopping bags. They were so fixated on the luxury storefronts that they didn’t seem to notice me. I passed several restaurants and art galleries mixed in with posh double-decker designer stores. A bubbly holographic hostess projected in the center of the shopping district offered cheerful directions and fashion tips to passersby. Hard pass.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Ah. There it is. Black Narcissus. A dark glass edifice with a glowing minimalist flower icon front and center.
Automatic doors opened with a gentle swoosh and I stepped in. A chime announced my arrival. A receptionist in a blindingly bright floral dress standing behind the front desk began to turn around.
“Welcome! Thank you for choosing Black Narcissus Body Sculpting as your premier–”
The receptionist froze, a look of horror briefly crossing her features.
“–oh, I do apologize. I thought you were a customer. Are you lost?”
▶ Not if this is Black Narcissus.
I held up the gift certificate.
▶ Constantly Improving Perfection. Did I say that right?
The receptionist fidgeted uncomfortably. She pressed a button somewhere beneath the desk and soon what looked to be a male model in his late 20s wearing a white doctor’s coat and designer frames appeared from behind a sleek obsidian partition. They whispered to one another, and I could at least overhear the snippet, “one of them.”
▶ Ahem. A client of mine gave me this certificate. 5,000 Crypt worth of cosmetic work. Is… my money good here?
The doctor strode forward, hand extended for a firm shake. He had a sharky smile plastered on his permanently spray-tanned face.
“We are always excited to receive referrals from our dear customers. May we have your client’s name so we know who to properly thank for this honor?”
▶ That’s… confidential.
The doc shot a worried look at the receptionist, then regained his composure.
“Of course. Of course. Well, we do hope you pass along our compliments to your mystery client. 5,000 Crypt of charitable body sculpting is good enough to get your feet wet, as it were. One step in the journey of personal metamorphosis that we specialize in.”
He paced a wide circle around me in the lobby, looking me up and down and clicking his tongue.
“You know, I think 150,000 Crypt would really do the job justice, but we can start small and see how you like it.”
150,000!?
▶ What cosmetic services exactly do you offer?
“All the greatest hits, of course. Rhinoplasty, liposuction, upper body lift, lower body lift, butt lift, breast reconstruction and augmentation, tummy tuck, facelift, calf implants, penis enlargement, labiaplasty, lip enhancement, hair transplantation… shall I go on?”
▶ Uh…
“Brow lift, eyelid surgery, ear shaving, did I mention vulvaplasty already? All digital, naturally. Using the power of data, it is amazing the precision and speed in which we can make alterations with almost zero lasting side effects.”
▶ What are realistic options for 5,000?
“First let me ask–have you had any work done? I assume the answer is no, but I have to ask anyway.”
▶ Just some… eye work and neck work. And a couple tattoos.
No need to explain my neural-interface axis port or my ocular implant. But he seemed to catch the hint, maybe.
“Ah! So you like to dabble in the bod-mod scene. I get it. We get a few customers after hours for special operations like that. Bunny ears. Angel wings. A cat tail. Special surprises for romantic occasions, easily reversed. But 5,000 will get you more conventional cosmetic changes: some facial work, hair work, maybe some body frame adjustments. We can even work on your vocal chords.”
▶ You mean, change my voice?
“Sure. We carry several lower-tier voice options in your price range. Come on back to the studio and let's strip those… unique… clothes off to see what we have to work with. This could actually be fun. You’re what we call fresh meat!”