by Nathan Lunn
“Trust me,” Danny replied, snatching the drugs packet back. “This is expensive shit – Isaiah Croft is an arrogant asshole – he’s not gonna share it with anyone. I told you he lived a decadent lifestyle, you really think he’s not gonna buy anymore? The dealer said Croft always buys out his stock near the end of the night, anyway. If we plan it right, we can get just him, and you can keep your precious ethics in check.”
Kye, who was still feeling woozy, started to mull the idea over, sipping from his coke. He had only one more question. “Where do we get the poison then?”
Danny smiled, clearly happy he had got through to Kye, before standing, speaking, and beckoning to him. “Don’t worry about that. Follow me.”
**
The inside of Danny’s apartment was exactly like Kye had expected, if not worse. A cluttered mess of discarded food packets, shredded magazines and empty beer cans constituted what you could call his carpet. The apartment was a cramped space, almost all the amenities were pushed into the one room (save for the toilet), and this meant that it was hard to tell which area that the collective mess was coming from. As Kye scanned the room, his eyes fell on the full PseduoReality machine by the display. Instantly, his ears whined, as the sounds of the apartment went silent, and a pain ran through him as though a knife had been twisted in his forehead. Kye shook for a moment, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat, before he bent over and vomited. He heard a laugh from Danny, uninterested in turning around, as Kye coughed and spat to the floor. He heard muffled speech from the mattress.
“Don’t worry about that, happens all the time here. Just have another drink. Bottom shelf in the cupboard. Gimme a minute.” As he was busy rooting around under his bed, digging through a slit in the mattress, Kye watched on, now reluctantly sipping his way through a bottle of CAAF grain vodka, doing his best to avoid looking at the design. He shuffled around on his feet, most of the liquid missing his mouth, spilling down his shirt and to the floor, mixing with the vomit that was starting to smell. He saw Danny throw a few HoloPorn displays behind him, swerving slowly to avoid being hit by them. He was impatient to leave, slurring at Danny who was still rifling through his belongings.
“Where is the fucking thing? Hurry up, will you?”
Danny waved him off with a flap of his hand, tearing through the mattress and pillows, feathers pouring out onto the floor. He muttered to himself, "This is why I always keep it on the shelf…" After another minute of digging, he finally stood, quiet for the first time, as he turned around and held his hand out to Kye.
In the centre of his palm, Kye could see a small black disc, about the size of a poker chip, covered in smaller dark red circles. An almost invisible thin seam ran round the edge, with a clip at the centre, seemingly vacuum sealed to prevent the contents from escaping. Despite its simple design, it was instantly recognisable: NeuroVirus. Kye was put on his guard within seconds, he had never seen it in person but he knew its effects. He picked it up, gingerly, turning it over in his hands. It was surprisingly light. He spoke, as Danny ushered him out of the room, taking it from him and putting it into his pocket.
“How did you get this? The NeuroVirus. I mean, it’s military grade, Danny!”
“How I got it is irrelevant, Kye. It’ll work – that’s what matters.” They began to walk down the tight corridors and staircases lining Danny’s apartment complex.
Kye was persistent. “Seriously, Danny, where did you get this from? Answer me!”
Danny stopped on the step above Kye, forcing him to stop and turn around. He saw Danny looking down at him, a deadly serious expression on his face as he said, “Stop it. I don’t need to tell you, and you really don’t want to know. So, just drop it.”
Kye had never seen intensity of those levels from Danny before, and whether it was a mix of the drugs he appeared to be emanating directly from his eyes, or the alcohol that Kye had been drinking, he decided to keep quiet. They walked in silence through the whole apartment block, only hearing one phrase from Danny the entire time, as he muttered, “Watch out for that door. Some drug-head with a death sentence.” Kye laughed at the irony, but only in his head.
They arrived back at the street that the Gallant perched off, and started to talk to each other again, in more hushed tones. Danny spoke first.
“We need to avoid Concert Floor. I’ll give you the poison before we get to Psych, it’s in a small gel capsule so don’t pierce it. If I introduce you, then you test the drugs, take some up on that finger with the poison and drop it off. Don’t take the drugs, make up some BS about how you don’t wanna buy it, and we’ll get out of there. Given enough time exposed to the elements, the capsule will break, but we’ll be back at the workshop by then, so don’t worry about that at all.”
They walked into the Gallant, admitted through their virtual markings, skipping the long queues that were posted outside. By this point, it was near to the actual evening, but at the Night Zone this just meant that the partying was about to peak for many customers. Kye, still drinking, still drunk, bought another glass for him and Danny, passing his to him as they slowly meandered towards the second floor.
“For dutch confidence,” Kye said, smashing his glass into Danny’s. “We need to stay incospic, inconsuspicous.” Danny looked confused. Kye took a second before establishing what he had originally meant. “Inconspicuous! What I mean is, would look weird if we went straight to his floor, wouldn't it? Let’s meander for a while, work through all the rooms and floors."
Danny nodded taking out his bag from his pocket and dipping his finger inside. Lifting it back to his head, he pressed it against a temple, stiffening as the drug rushed into his commlink system. He held his breath, waiting a moment, before exhaling, as a rush shook down through his whole body. Kye said nothing, resigned to finishing his drink, as they moved to the second floor. In a mirror of his original plan, Kye felt the floors pass by with his drinks, some blurring into each other, as themed rooms provided themed beverages. Danny tried to converse a little, asking after his arm and Julie, but Kye didn't want to talk about either, deciding instead to finish his drink and feign ignorance. Danny nodded as though he understood. Finally, more likely by chance than by design, they did end up at the Pysch floor, at least two hours after they had first entered the club.
Taking a drink from the bar, Kye was handed an opaque glass filled near to the brim with a neon liquid. His was purple, but as he looked at the bottles lining the walls, he saw many colours to have chosen from. Shockingly, the bright neon drinks didn’t stand out too well in the room, instead blending with the psychedelic background which gave the floor its name: swirls of electric and reflective fluid moved across the walls; the ceiling above seemed to shift and sway like a tumultuous dark grey ocean; and the bartenders appeared to be opaque, featureless, humanoid figures who tilted each way with the introduction of each new patron. Kye grabbed Danny, asking how the guy was to be found, before having his sight pointed towards the back of the room, where a figure was standing, leaning against the wall and surveying the room. Passing Kye the NeuroVirus container, he said his final comments before they were to put the plan into action.
“Okay remember, don’t take the drugs. Just look like you’re gonna test them. You won’t get ill or anything, ‘cause the capsule won’t have broken, but it’s not like you could handle it anyway. It's some sick shit. Let me do most of the talking, and stick to the plan. We can leave together. As it’ll look like we hang out, they won’t suspect anything. Got it?” Kye just nodded, and they moved to the back of the room, slowly approaching the man – who had spotted them by now and was watching intently as they walked over. Growing closer, they could see he was different – like the girl in the tube, this man’s body had been modified, though not to fit his situation like she had done. Two long bumps rose out of the top of his head, curling around to form smooth horns. The skin was stretched over so tightly it took on a reflective personality, picking up all the bright strobing colours like a rainbow me
dley. Both his fingernails and teeth had been shaved to their finest points and various devilish inkings spread across his bare arms and face. He spoke first.
“Who’s the friend, Alves?” He motioned to Kye, but spoke to Danny, who he presumed had given a fake name. Smart. Kye stayed quiet, as asked, whilst Danny gave him a name, and explained why he was here.
“Hello again, Ethos. This here’s Kurick. Looking to party, told him I’d introduce you. Wanted to test the product, you know, get an idea of the merchandise.” Ethos stayed quiet, looking Kye up and down, as if he was slowly nodding. “He good? You still holding?” Danny handed a credit chip to Ethos without waiting for a proper response, but, nonetheless, Ethos was happy to pull out his source – a thick plastic bag, clipped the same as Danny’s smaller one, and filled with thin grains of silver, pronged on the ends with sharp spikes. Ethos pocketed the chip, as Kye pulled his hands from his pockets to investigate the bag. Picking his hands out of his pockets with care, he dipped his finger into the opening, heart beating at twice the normal pace, moving it through the contents and tapping it with a subtle but forceful push into his palm. Danny did his best to keep up conversation as Kye lifted his hand back out, a small grain the only visible thing on the tip of his finger. Success. He lifted it to his eye, looking at it, as best he could, Commlink enhancing the details as he rolled one around his skin, careful not to let the prongs stab him. He started to put it back to the bag, beginning to spout off about how he didn’t like the design and wasn’t looking to buy himself, before the man interrupted him.
“Your friend here just paid me for one. There it is. Take it here so I know you’re cool.”
Both Danny and Kye made eye contact, as Kye froze and Danny started to stutter, “Hey, Ethos, it’s fine, he just doesn’t want some, you can give me my cash back and we can move away. Yeah?”
Ethos kept his eyes on Kye, who was still frozen and beginning to get an irritatingly unscratchable itch behind his ear, before speaking.
“Can’t do. You know my policy on returns and around here, I don’t want to get the reputation of a swindler neither.” He pulled out a handgun, light and discreet, from his pocket and trained it towards Kye.
Danny backed up a foot, reasoning with Ethos. “Woah, woah, calm down. If he doesn’t want to, he don’t have to. You know me, Ethos, it’s Alves. Let’s put the weapons away, shall we? Ethos?”
Ethos chuckled lightly, as he noticed a sweat break on Kye’s forehead.
“That’s the problem, Alves. I know you fine. But I don’t know your pal here at all. Now, Kurick–” he pushed the gun into Kye’s arm, raising it towards his head as he flinched– “take it.”
Kye made a final look towards Danny, who gave an almost unnoticeable nod. Spurred by the weapon digging into his arm and the collective drinks digging into his head, he pushed his finger to his temple, bracing as the energy surge took over his flesh first, and commlink second. Pins and needles ran through his entire body, his nervous system charging up to eleven, as the drug took nearly instantaneous effect. His commlink fizzled, cutting out entirely as he started to blink rapidly. As though through stop motion, he watched as Ethos smiled and pulled the bag back into his pocket, his movements jerky and stunted. He managed to catch words over the booming speakers – though he wasn’t sure they were in the right order (“Business Guys Doing With Pleasure You”) – before Danny dragged him away, muttering things to him that he didn’t manage to pick up. The mix of alcohol and narcotics finally hit his brain as he was pulled to the exit doors and the last thing he saw through the vista of exploding neon visual-scapes, tugging at the corners of his eyelids and pulling them down to a close, was Ethos’ smirking face, and the silver flash of his handgun, disappearing into the pocket of his jacket.
9
Kye tripped down the stairs, his mind overloading with the feeling of a thousand electrified pitchforks stabbing into his forebrain. Danny slid down behind him, as they started to descend – the numbers blurred past as they ran down, Kye muttering obscenities under his breath and Danny trying his best to get a hold of him before he tripped and fell. Meanwhile, Kye was finding it incredibly difficult to keep his eyes open, as – since leaving the Psych room – his blinking had sped up until it was finally matching his heartbeat. In seeing the world through this shutter-sped vision, each stair he clambered down was a clifface, a challenge, and as he began to find his stride, he couldn’t manage to stop himself from falling down each step, dropping through the floors; an indeterminable scream filled his ears, coming from either his own mouth or the blaring music pulsating from the doors they passed by. The multiple sounds and sights mashed together into a weird blend of worlds, flying fish leaching into alien spaceships, oiled men sliding through frosted doughnuts – Kye shook his head as they assaulted him, flinching violently as he felt phantom whispers of attacks coming from both his left and his right. Thin, shrieking sounds of the viola sliced inbetween the noises seeping into his mind, and he found his head turning, feet moving back up the stairs. Danny held out an arm in his way, calling out to Kye to stop and keep moving down, but he couldn’t hear him, and batted it down with enough force to cause significant pain. He continued up, ignoring Danny’s cries and curses, until the sounds of the viola reached their peak, and he arrived at the door they belonged to. Of course. It was ‘Concert’ floor. Rage built up, as a new heat and electricity spread through his nervous system, profanity slipping between his bared lips. Danny had caught up with him, and grabbed his shoulder, turning him away before he managed to initiate payment, before shouting directly into his face, “Kye! No! We can’t go in there, it’ll incriminate us.”
Kye shoved him back, moving his fingers up towards his temple, slurring back with incomprehensible words. He was intent on getting through those doors. Danny was quick to grab him again, throwing his arm down and pulling him from the door, tirelessly reiterating, “For God’s sake, man, we just went over this! Pull yourself together!”
Kye grew increasingly aggressive, rebounding with another push, harder this time, as some semblance of words slipped through his incoherent speech, “Sharabarah… Revenge… Short-arsed prick… Kilasem…”
Upon hearing the insult, Danny switched, his efforts changing from trying to prevent implication into actively trying to cause harm. Enraged, he grabbed the scruff of his neck, and threw his entire body down the stairs (his drugs kicking in to their peak point) screaming as he did so, “I said don’t call me that! Get a-fucking-hold of yourself!”
Kye hit the tarnished metal railing, rolling far down the stairs and hitting his head sharply as he went. His vision swam further, as Danny became a shadow, standing above him – the darkness morphed closer, the lights wrapping around the edges as Kye reached his peak. Danny remained standing, aiming a barrage of kicks squarely at his ribcage. The rough leather of his boot connected with Kye’s skin, pushing past arms he had held in his face for protection, pulling the air directly from his lungs in forceful exhalation. Danny kept screaming, over and over, as Kye began to lose consciousness. “Who’s tall now? Huh?” Each kick punctuated the word – “Who’s. Tall. Now?” Punches and kicks rained onto Kye, as the floor pounded, the air pounded and his ears pounded, until everything went black and he fell into darkness.
10
Kye came to, sprawled across the office table, the room’s lightstrips off, and chairs abandoned. The air was incredibly still, holding a musty smell of dead skin cells mixed with faintly evaporated alcohol. Shutters closed over the dirty windows provided no light to help him see, as Kye sat up, weakly rising to his palms. Somehow, his shoulder was aching again. Scratching aimlessly as he looked up and around, he felt the hard nanotech against his fingertips, and drew his hand back, slipping his legs to the side of the desk and attempting to stand. He winced as he bent over, feeling his ribcage tenderly, measuring the amount of pain in each area as an indicator of how bad the damages were. He paused as he stood, considering another use of the CADuceus, before shaking t
he idea off and heading to the medical wing anyway. The workshop appeared empty, and his steps echoed off the cracked brick walls, through the swinging metal chains hanging from the corrugated steel ceiling, and into the broken down hovercar waiting idly for repair. Kye shuddered at the bulletholes still present in the window and doorway. He pushed the green curtains aside with a swift swish. A quick rummage of the compartmented shelf gave him what he was looking for – two small white and red pills, and a clear stout bottle of ‘Eas-E Go Down’ medicine support. He wasn’t sure there was actually any water in the building, and didn’t feel as though he could stomach the sour pills without any help. He threw them back fast, wary that people could be lurking just around the corner, ready to laugh at any moment. He didn’t want to appear weak to anyone, which is exactly why he helped himself to the extra dosage. It could have also been taken to assist the lurking headache, the pain of which perfectly accompanied his physical ailments, but Kye couldn’t fully tell – the headache was likely a result of the mounting shame and regret he could feel building up in the back of his mind, and as a result of this, the medicine was not realistically going to help. He sat down, his suspicions confirmed as the memories of the previous night began to come to fruition.
Scattered recollections of events began to fall into place. Unordered, he winced as he remembered the drinking first, and the reasons for his injuries second. He dropped his head into his open hand, stroking the bridge of his nose delicately with his little finger. A fresh bout of pain exploded behind his eyes as his brain settled on the memory of the Neurovirus, and the deed that he and Danny had done. Startled, he jumped up from his table, and looked around. “Danny!” he shouted, shuffling back into the workshop, ripping the curtains down as he did so. He banged on the metalwork of the car, pushing it away slightly, and swerving around as it veered back into its mobile state. “Danny! Where the hell are you?” Kye continued this way for a further minute, banging on anything close enough to take the weight of his fist. Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, the sharp pain intensifying in his head to the point of unbearability. He shook as a fresh flood of memory surged back into his brain, so vivid it was as if he could see them playing out through his commlink. He shakily stood as he remembered his bout of vomiting, Danny’s disgusting apartment, then wrinkled his forehead in frustration as he doubled back down on his attempts to forget. Sifting through his memories, he stood there, trying to piece together the final event he seemed to be missing, the explanation of why he did what he did, before he was interrupted by the arrival of a few of his fellow colleagues.
