by Gentry Race
“We’re closed for remodeling,” the bartender said as he washed a set of glasses with his four arms, two being cyber-Modded.
“All I want is a jerk,” Jantzen said.
The bartender smiled and finished cleaning the glassware. “Let me get that for you.” He whipped up a frothy drink, vapor rolling off the top.
The door opened, casting a green light from the outside neon sign as a silhouette of a shapely woman appeared. Jantzen’s eyes followed the cyber Modded contours up from the ankles to a human waist and immediately recognized who it was. Jess.
“Well, well. Ya neva called,” Jess said in her almost Jersey accent.
“Jess…” Jantzen awkwardly answered.
“It’s all right, sweetie. That wasn’t my first rodeo,” Jess said, winking at him before taking a seat next to him. She looked at the bartender. “I’ll take a jerk.”
Jantzen felt awkward about not trying to contact her since he had been on Annulus. They exchanged info back on the freighter after she saved his loot, but he didn’t think he would run into her again.
“You getting a jerk too, eh?” Jantzen asked.
“Already found one,” Jess quipped.
The time passed by like nothing as Jantzen listened to Jess’s stories about working the sex service industry on Earth. That profession explained the bar code laser etched on her teal blouse. From her days in Pattaya, Thailand to the high-rise clients in San Francisco, she had seen it all.
Despite hearing girls blabber on about their boring lives, for once, Jantzen felt this girl had something unique about her. She was like him—street smart. It’s the legs that turn me on though, he thought.
Jantzen gulped down the last of his fourth jerk drink. The taste to him was reminiscent of the tiki drinks on Earth; red number five coloring with the finish of an engine degreaser. He lowered his highball glass and felt tipsy, showing his toothless smile. He looked over at Jess, who seemed sober and more serious than she ever had before.
“What’s the matter, sailor?” she said, her voice echoing more now than before.
“I… feel…” Jantzen tried to speak as his balance was compromised and fell off the barstool to blackness.
Jantzen awoke with a splitting headache. His eyes focused on the only source of light which came through the wooden floorboards above. He was in some sort of cellar and could see the set of barstools he’d sat in just before he blacked out. One section of the floorboards had an obvious trap door cut into it, the light leaking through to give away its shape and size.
What the hell happened?
His feet felt the cold dirt below, and the musty smell of mildew stifled his senses. His right hip ached, and there seemed to be shiny glitter spread throughout the surrounding floor.
“Is anyone up there?” Jantzen yelled, his head aching more now.
There was another light coming from down a corridor dirt tunnel that filled the small chasm. With a bit more focus, the glitter turned out to be broken glass. Jantzen shot to his feet, trying to make sense of the environment and felt the cold dirt beneath his feet. He was barefoot.
“What the hell? Hello! Is anyone up there?” Jantzen yelled again.
A long shadow grew as it approached him. He saw a figure stop just before the broken glass on the ground.
“Mr. Cruz,” the man in shadow said.
“What the hell is going on? Who are you?”
“My name is Boson. I am the fixer Elise set you up with.”
Jantzen shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah? Hell of a way to treat a client.”
“I’m sorry for the… extra precautions, but it has seems the conditions of our agreement have changed.”
“What conditions? Listen, man, I’m tired. My head is killing me, and I’m sick of getting toyed around with. Where’s my jump in line?”
The shadowy man stepped into light. His eyes were solid blocks of metal connecting to more wires along his cranium contours. He wore a long, black trench coat that seemed to hide more wiring underneath like some perverted flasher waiting to discard his robe.
“We need some info, Mr. Cruz.”
Jantzen was confused. He had nothing to offer this person. “What info?”
“Where is Elise?” the man asked, his tone more commanding now.
Jantzen thought for a moment. He had heard that tone before. “Why do you want to know?”
“My colleagues are being hammered hard, Mr. Cruz. Unless I provide Elise’s location, I cannot provide you with a jump.”
Jantzen thought about the history he had with Elise and all the times he had helped her out. This time, however, he wanted to help himself. He wanted his new body and to forget the past once and for all. He wasn’t about to let anyone or anything stand in the way of that.
“She’s in the Dream Farms, Lower Dregs,” Jantzen said.
16
Solari awoke on a Med Bed table slanted at a forty-five-degree angle. Her hands and legs were spread out and fastened down. On her head, a NIMBUS ring blinked with a pulsing purple light. The caching tube was still stuck in her arm, and her body felt stiff.
That fixer tried to run her for a render slave in the farm—what’s known as “dreamers.” Solari had heard of these cases where Mods would hijack the consciousness and milk their cognitive ability for other jobs while they laid like a vegetable.
Pings of bright light reflected from the shiny stainless-steel robotic arms that removed the device from her. Solari hardly recognized the obsolete metal since composites were the dominant material nPrinted on Annulus. Solari touched the smooth surface, trying to feel its directional grain texture.
She remembered Elise’s affinity with the metal and the many games they had played when they were little. While helping on a project for Elizabeth, Elise had once asked her to get the stainless-steel magnet next to the bucket of ‘prop wash.’ Arthur’s laugh had echoed throughout the quarters when he heard what she wanted. The memory brought a smile to Solari’s face.
She fully opened both eyes now that she was able to inspect the room. An assortment of test tubes, Bunsen burners, and lab equipment were organized alphabetically from left to right along with size. Her sister had always been a neat freak, and Solari was not surprised about her erratum. She had seen OCD before in her training. Perhaps that was the reason she stayed away all those years.
The double doors swayed open and saw a figure enter. The presence was colorful, obscuring its edges like chromatic aberration from a photographic lens separating the spectrum of colors made up by visible light. The figure dialed instructions onto its arm, and the disparity suit faded. It was Elise dressed in the clear plastic suit and holding a thin glass tablet.
“You have an erratum,” Elise said plainly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Solari balked.
“Sol, you are in denial. How do you think you got out of that room? The door was closed.”
Solari’s memory was still fuzzy. How did she get out the room?
“You shouldn’t be here,” Elise said.
She drew away the hood, and her pilot light blue hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore sleek, form-fitted white attire that somehow reminded Solari of a nurse practitioner.
“They took your access?” Elise asked, lowering one of the stainless-steel Med Bed arms. She pulled the caching tube from her arm and scanned Solari’s retina.
Solari remained silent as Elise typed into the glass tablet. Endless code sprawled across in blue, making lists that cycled in recursive sprawling text. Solari’s tight hand restraints unlatched, and a chair nPrinted before Elise as she sat down. Solari rubbed her wrists and watched the tenderness heal.
“Why are you here?” Elise asked.
“Did you make it?”
Elise looked at the stainless-steel tray where the caching tube laid. She knew what Solari meant. “Yes.”
While she’d known the truth, Solari felt as though she’d been physically hit by the admission. “El, you don’t know w
hat you’ve done to us. Eradicates are hiding—”
“Hiding? Why do we need to hide? The Mesons have shown that our consciousness can bear some amazing abilities, and indulgence in the shortcomings of the psyche can provoke erratum to grow, to get stronger.”
Solari shook her head. She was shocked upon hearing Elise’s response. “Gone are the days of the petty bar tricks and the kiddy magic shows. People are suffering from these imperfections.”
“Imperfections? Perfection is not the way to live your life. To err is to be human. Imperfection is virtue.”
“Imperfection has produced something else… something worse,” Solari said.
Elise’s attention piqued. “Something worse?”
“Side effects from the caching are causing erratum to wildly manifest physical symptoms.”
“What kind of manifestations?” Elise asked curiously.
“OCD,” Solari said, pointing to the other woman. “Had a scratcher tearing at his chest while calling for the Mesons.”
Elise thought quietly, listening to what Solari had discovered.
“This new age movement is causing a shit storm up above,” Solari continued. “If Chellis were to find out you were responsible for this, then we are all going to be Axiomed.”
“You mean you would lose your perfect career?” Elise quipped, smiling. “Besides, if he came after us, I would run. I have always been faster than you.”
Solari’s stress built from her inability to cope.
Elise thought for a moment. “All kidding aside, we found one.”
Solari followed her sister down the hallway of what appeared to be a housing unit. Neon lights accented dark walls of red leather soft padding that was embroidered with purple crushed velvet rivets. They passed by rooms full of pods housed with Mods lying in them side by side, packed together like sardines in a can.
They stopped by a door as Elise filled out a chart while inspecting the room like a nurse on graveyard shift. One Mod stood out. He had a ponytail made of wires that connected to the back of his head, and horizontal black lines crossed his face. His hands danced with a pencil on paper to the tune of music.
“What is he doing?” Solari asked.
“He’s interpreting the music into visual form. A brilliant case. Ari’s disorder allows for the sight of music. He can see sounds and hear colors,” Elise said.
They walked into another room, this one much larger like a commons hall. The smell of thick mucous membrane and sterile metal filled the area. Twenty-seven Mod pods lined the walls, and a large center pod was affixed in the middle.
It was unmistakable to recognize. Solari saw a large, black, and bulbous creature sleeping quietly, restrained. Its lesions perforated its body while its mouth opened to show off a set of teeth like a great white. Chunky grit covered its teeth as it chattered a low hum while its eyes bobbed back and forth from the special cocktail of memCache Elise had given it.
“We have it jacked into the Farm. We are using our collective consciousness to render its origin,” Elise said.
Solari watched above the pod as the creature was experienced a visual sensory display. Five glowing auras, the quintessence of human souls, floated around the creature’s presence in virtual space. They probed it, and the creature jutted.
“Where’d you find it?” Solari asked.
“It came to us. It was calling for the Mesons.”
“It wants to join your cult?” Solari asked playfully.
The creature chattered its teeth more in a rhythmic fashion. One of the glowing auras stabbed its lesion. The site opened, draining a puss-like substance made of White Matter.
“Looks like it's manifesting a severe form of ASD, but nothing like I’ve seen on Annulus.”
“ASD?” Elise asked.
Solari nodded. “Autistic Spectral Disorder.”
“Well, it’s from annulus because it’s receiving a regenerative feed line, but we don’t know where it came from. Do you know why Chellis is so interested?” Elise asked.
“There is an inquiry. He’s under the gun.”
Elise looked at Solari with undeniable intrigue. “Interesting.”
“I need you to stop making the memCache, Elise,” Solari ordered, pleading with her eyes though her body stood firm.
“Caching is harmless other than causing difficulties in your job,” Elise said. “This manifestation is something else.”
“But they are using it to hide from the PSYOP!”
“PSYOP is an illusion, Sol. Chellis is catching and releasing them to garner sympathy from the UN. It’s his baby project. He wants support.”
“Are you crazy? Chellis was a founding member of Annulus. He holds no prejudice to the perfect.”
Elise shook her head in pity. “Chellis is not the perfectionist you think you know. He’s hiding something from you.”
The creature jutted again; the sound of the teeth chatter grew much louder. Solari covered her ears, and Elise walked over, increasing the dosage of memCache cocktail to his feed signal.
“You need to realize nothing is perfect,” Elise continued.
Solari thought for a moment, but her attention was immediately pulled elsewhere. Her eyes widened as the creature broke its restraints, grabbing Elise by the throat. It freed its other hand, tossing her like a rag doll into one the membrane jelly Mod Pods.
“El!” Solari called out.
Doors flew open behind her as PSYOP teams rushed in. Carter and a large stocky man with a dark beard commanded the room. The stout man’s eye shined with a bright red tint for a pupil and an almost bored expression. It was Malick.
The PSYOP teams showed precision and skill as they worked the creature toward the corner of the large room, firing mag charges at a steady rate.
Carter nPrinted a small orb which he transformed into a NIMBUS ring. Armed in one hand and NIMBUS in the other, he fired at the creature’s hideous body. It bellowed in an eerie chatter and then ripped the nearby tendrils of wires from the socket of a Mod Pod.
Electricity sparked chaotically from the bunched wires the creature then lifted and chomped down on with all its might. The lights flickered, dimming down and wavering up revealing the creature had disappeared, resetting its signal.
“Damn it!” Malick yelled, smashing the Mod Pod in front of him.
Solari looked back for Elise, but she couldn’t find her. She’d fled. Looking over, Solari found a furious Malick.
“PYSOP team two and three. Destroy this farm,” he ordered.
“But this is just dreams!” Solari called out.
Malick approached her while he rolled a small orb in his hand, collapsed it down to a ring, and placed it on her head.
“Your judgment is clouded,” he said flatly before turning the NIMBUS ring on.
17
Solari’s memSpace faded into a dark room. She sat at a long table with the familiar wireless electric nodes extending from her neck side. She noticed the shiny composite material they were made of, and it made her think of Elise. She hoped her sister was okay and brushed away bad thoughts for just a moment.
A needle on the indicator in the middle of the table spiked as she reminisced. She needed to clear her mind of thoughts while being surveyed. The only way to do that was to avoid thinking at all, especially of memories.
What does even mean? she thought.
“You have investigated while on suspension, Solari Ducard. You should have never left,” said a familiar voice from the shadows.
Solari remained silent.
“You’ve risked all your hard work and perfection on a whim. One that didn’t pay off,” said the voice.
The needle spiked, reflecting Solari’s stressors and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
“However, I am proud of you, Solari,” Chellis said, stepping into the light.
“I don’t understand,” Solari said.
“I knew you would strive to show your perfection despite all odds against you. And look what have you achieved
!”
“Sir?”
“You helped destroy the largest part responsible for the Mesons; the Dream Farms.”
Solari tried to hide cringe that rolled through her. Her stomach turned while thinking of the dreams that were lost. The hopes that were gone and the fears that have amassed.
“You had me followed,” Solari said.
“Yes, I sent Malick after you went missing. You were quite cunning and gave him the slip, but he finally caught up with you in the Lower Dregs.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“All you have to do is tell me where your sister is, and I’ll reinstate your rank,” Chellis offered.
Solari paused for a moment. If Chellis knew she had a sister, then he must know she made the caching drug.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“Do not be naïve. Annulus knows everything, and I am Annulus.”
Solari felt jaded by his statement because she knew no individual could know everything about everyone like some omnipotent being. Besides, there was failsafes designed in Annulus to provide all nPrints the freedom to print without fear of a Big Brother watching them. This was one of the first ideals created for Annulus.
“Except, you don’t know where my sister is.”
Chellis lowered his head in disgrace at the cat-and-mouse game she played. “You know Annulus more than any nPrint could. We must stick together.”
Solari watched him carefully, remembering what Elise had told her. The needle spiked again, and Solari smiled. “I will find her.”
The darkness of the room subsided as the lights slowly turned on and electric nodes in her neck disappeared. Solari felt something in that instance. Something different and a little less perfect.
Light flickered in passing horizontal streaks across the faces of the four prestigious gentlemen heading downward to Annulus’s big event. Despite being an audit, Chellis had sponsored and planned a showcase of events to hopefully woo the committee.
