The neon lights create a mesmeric swirl over the night as the cacophony of advertisements further works to disorientate any poor chump who still walks around with their organic ears and eyes unprotected. A thirty-something woman sits on a bench next to a half-gonked goon who she is starting to suspect is enjoying his brain dance a little too much before he bends over, away from her, and refreshes everyone on what a liquid lunch looks like in Neon Phoenix.
The police sitting at the entrance to the park smiled the sadistic smile of a professional who enjoyed his work way too much as the drone above him detached itself from the “Maintenance and Custodial Center” box and flew over to the newly regurgitated meal. The woman nods shortly before peering over to the man and shrieking.
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“Now’s the play, Lex,” the voice in the woman's ear said. “Remember, no fighting this time. We had to scrap the last three places, and rent’s coming.”
The man in her ear was right. Lex did let the last two cops get to her more than she should have and ended up face-down on the street because of it. The third time… the sicko touched her, and well, she couldn’t have that, right? That ride next to the pervert in the cop car was not particularly pleasant. Their fixer wouldn’t let them have another chance it was now or never.
“Three meters, no contact. Bot and boss,” she replied, her eyes flying across an augmented keyboard only she could see.
She stood up, increasing her proximity to the drone. It fired a laser that scorched the bioproduct off the floor, leaving a horrid, gut-wrenching stench that smelled of sour milk and liquid hair removal. The charred remains were misted with some solution before the drone vacuumed the ground into an atomizer and released the newest signature perfume from the PraDior line—Desserted Rose.
The whole process took about 90 seconds as the item in the top-left of Lex’s vision that read “Bot scanned and copied” lined itself out and presented a green check mark before replacing it with “Cop scanned and copied”.
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Right on cue, the abusive asshat brought his billy club to the sick man’s stomach, causing him to empty again.
“That's right,” the cop started his speech while laughing at the misfortune of his prey. “Get it all out before I take you in. If you leave anything in there and it comes out while we are driving, I’ll scrub it off with your eyelids.”
Lex looked at the information that Bee was stealing in the scan just in time to see Officer Kennington’s name.
“Officer Kennington,” she said aloud, reading the name and wondering why it sounded familiar.
The officer turned around and looked at the trash that dared say his name.
Lex’s eyes shifted around before realizing what she must have done to gain the man’s attention. “Is he going to be taken to the rehab center?” she asked, putting on her best concerned Karen voice. She started to channel the talks that the sisters would tell her back at the Bepsi Co.’s Redeemer’s Grace Orphanage.
“This poor sinner needs to be rehabilitated so he can be an outstanding employee like yourself. It’s obvious he hasn’t enough work, and that's why he has time to be out here on the streets with his depravities.”
The pearl-clutching was hard for her to do with a straight face, but she had to hope the man’s ego was large enough to gloss over it.
“Yes, yes,” Officer Kennington said, shaking his head before grabbing the man by the back of his janitorial suit’s collar. “Another fucking zealot,” he mumbled before continuing with a fake service smile.
“We’ll check his record for criminal behavior and then his debt record to make sure he doesn’t owe a company. Then, if those checks come back, it’s one of those nice rehab centers your church set up for the state,” he said with a smirk that conveyed what they both knew.
As if anyone is debt-free ever since that sins of our fathers' law, she thought but knew better than to say.
The script at the top left of her vision checked off, and she smiled—a genuine smile that helped her sell her cover.
“Of course, officer. The Law and the Lord in unison in our lands,” she recited the propaganda almost as easily as she breathed.
Officer Kennington laughed a sacrilegious amount before hoisting the man into his car. “Make sure to stay out of trouble, Sister Vona,” he called back.