by D. B. Goodin
“That depends, sweetheart, what’s in it for me?” the mustached freak said.
“Nothing. Now either show me to the Goth Queen, or get out of my way,” Alice said.
The men laughed.
“She’s got some balls on her, doesn’t she, Barry?” the mime guy said.
“Shut up, Jonny.” Barry seemed deep in thought, and then said, “A dance?”
“What?”
“You heard me—I want a dance and a drink for pretending not to hear me. You’d better agree before my price goes up and a kiss gets added,” Barry taunted.
Alice said nothing for a long moment. His demand surprised her. She felt repulsed by the man and didn’t want to get close enough for a dance.
I need to see the Goth Queen.
Barry smiled, revealing his yellowed and missing teeth again. Alice’s throat locked for a second; she had trouble breathing, followed by a wave of nausea.
“Tell you what, if you let me see the Goth Queen, I will consider it.”
“Deal,” Barry said as he moved and waved her up the stairs. “Ladies first.”
What a creep!
She climbed the stairs and opened the door. Her movements were slow but deliberate, like she was expecting someone to lunge out at her. Her confidence had been shattered after the run-in with Barry, who seemed to drain her resolve like a vampire draining a victim.
Snap out of it, Alice!
“I will wait for our dance and drink here. Take your time. I’m a patient man,” Barry said.
She walked toward the bar area where she had a view of the stage. Bobby and the Brawlers were practicing a set for tonight’s performance. She watched for a while. They had talent, and she liked the way their sound resonated with the acoustics at Roxy’s.
“Hello again,” a woman’s voice said. Alice looked; it was the Goth Queen.
“Just the woman I wanted to see,” Alice said.
The Goth Queen was dressed in black, and her veil was down. Her short stature made Alice look like an amazon in comparison, and Alice was of average height for a woman. Alice was impressed how the Goth Queen exuded confidence by just being in the room.
“I’m Alice. I’m a recruiter at Roxy’s in the West Village.”
The Goth Queen’s eyes widened a little.
“I remember, you know—you do work at Roxy’s!”
“It is my understanding that you welched on a performance deal that we had with you,” Alice said.
The Goth Queen remained motionless; Alice felt like she was talking to a statue. Then she removed her veil and gave Alice an expressionless stare that sent an icy feeling down Alice’s spine. The Goth Queen was about Alice’s age—perhaps younger. Her face was beautiful and captivating, but marred, as well; Alice noticed a scar that ran from the base of her nose, across her lips, and stopped just above the chin.
No wonder she wears that veil.
“I didn’t welch, because I made no such deal,” the Goth Queen said.
“I was there,” Alice countered. “Bobby and the Brawlers agreed to play in our club. You also performed with them—you are quite good. I was disappointed when I learned that Bobby and you weren’t going to play.”
Alice thought the Goth Queen showed the slightest hint of a smile.
“Whatever deal you have with them doesn’t apply to me,” the Goth Queen told her.
“Well, I thought you were part of the band,” Alice said.
The Goth Queen stared at Alice for a moment, then said, “I know it’s hard finding quality talent to play at clubs these days. I tried hiring some synthetic robots, but their sound was too . . . artificial. It lacks a certain quality—”
“It lacks any kind of human soul,” Alice interjected.
The Goth Queen didn’t immediately respond, but she seemed to be studying Alice’s every move. A conspiratorial smile touched her face.
“You’re good at spotting talent. I can see why Roxy likes you.”
“You know Roxy?”
“Only by reputation, but she is known to only hire the best, so I have a proposal for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“If Bobby agrees, you can borrow him for a time—but you need to do something for me.”
“Name it, and I will see what I can do.”
“I need your help at weeding out a spy.”
Alice was taken off guard by the question. “What makes you think I’m qualified to do that?”
The Goth Queen smiled. “You’re not the only one who was present at the CityWide Concert five years ago. I remember the shutdown of the bots. You caused quite the stir.”
Alice rolled her eyes.
Why does everyone think that I’m a hacker? That’s Jamie’s job, and that’s what I get for putting him up to the prank.
“I didn’t hack the bots.”
“No? But I know you were behind it. Why else would you drop out of the music program at Columbia?”
Alice was stone-faced. She flushed as the blood flowed to her head.
Calm down, Alice, you will not get what you want by blowing up.
“Yes? I’ve done my homework. There are few all-human clubs in the city. In fact, there are only three I know of—Roxy’s, my place, and the Hoodoo’s club, but that place doesn’t really count, since most of their talent is DJs.”
“I don’t know who the Hoodoo’s are, but what does any of that have to do with me?”
“Do you need me to lay it all out, like a bared carcass?” the Goth Queen huffed. Then she closed her eyes and was silent for a moment. “Fine! As I said, you’re excellent at spotting talent, and you can tell if anyone is trying to deceive you with non-legitimate sounds.”
How does she know so much about me?
“So, what do I need to do?” Alice asked.
“I need to borrow your recruiting skills, and your stealth. It will only take an afternoon of your time, and you will have a full roster for tonight’s show. Do we have a deal?”
“Won’t you miss Bobby for your show?”
“We are not open tonight.”
How convenient—most clubs are open every night. What’s her angle?
“I don’t feel comfortable with this arrangement,” Alice muttered. “Something’s off.”
“I assure you my offer is real, and it’s a good deal for us both. You get to staff your club for a night, and I get to see if you’re as good as they say.”
“Who is ‘they,’ exactly? And I want two nights of Bobby.”
The Goth Queen smiled and rubbed at her scar.
“I . . . don’t know if I want to let Bobby go for that long,” the Goth Queen said, hesitating.
“Okay, fine—one night, but he better stay the entire evening.”
“By agreeing with me, you are helping Roxy too.”
“The only other downside is that I have to dance with that creep.” Alice gestured toward Barry.
“Who, Barry? He’s harmless, and no one ever pays any attention to him. A little kindness goes a long way!”
“I’m not dancing with him.”
The Goth Queen shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Alice took out her notepad and wrote down her information and handed it to the Goth Queen. All this writing is giving my hand a cramp, I wish I had my visor.
“Excellent—I will call on you soon.”
Alice left the Goth Queen’s club; Barry was nowhere to be seen.
Good—no sign of Barry. Time to make a break for it while I can.
Alice walked several blocks away from the Goth Queen’s club before she called Charlie. “We have Bobby for tonight’s show.”
“That is brilliant, thanks for talking . . . wait, the Goth Queen does nothing for free—what’s the catch?”
“That’s between us girls.”
“Roxy won’t like the sound of that.”
“What? Why? Just tell her I got the job done. What I do on my own time is none of her concern. I will be back at the club in a few hours. I need to run a
quick errand.”
“You got Bobby, and we now have a full roster, so . . . take your time.”
About a half hour later Alice knocked on the door of WSS. After a minute or two, Simon opened the door.
“Hi, is he here?” Alice said, walking past Simon.
Simon didn’t respond; he just gaped at her.
“Hello? Is Nigel here?” Alice asked. She was staring at Simon.
“What?” Simon shook his head. “Oh, sorry. Follow me.”
What’s the matter with this guy?
Simon led Alice down a lengthy hallway and down a flight of stairs. Nigel was working at a workbench. She recognized her visor. It was resting on two clamps.
“Hey, Nigel, is it ready yet?” Alice said.
Nigel looked up. He appeared to be lost in thought.
“You sound like someone I knew once.” Nigel seemed wistful for a moment, lost in thought. “Give me a few minutes to put it back together, then it’s all yours.”
Alice watched with some interest as he reassembled the technology of the visor. He wound the wiring tight so it would fit into the small confines of the outer case. Most of the visor was glass, so Nigel was careful when reassembling the top portion where the circuits were housed.
“It looks like new! Thanks . . . except my money is frozen.”
Nigel noticed that Simon seemed to be examining Alice’s every move.
Nigel waved a hand. “Pay me when you have the money—you have an honest face. I trust you. Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“If you go out with Simon . . . on a date, perhaps we can call it even.”
“What are you doing, Uncle Nige? She’s not interested in a date!”
Alice smiled. She turned to Simon. “You are kind of cute, but I need to get my life situation fixed before I relax . . . or go out on a date again.”
Simon looked relieved.
“Do you want to tell her, Simon, or should I?” Nigel said as he cocked his head toward Alice.
Simon gave Alice a pained look.
“What is it?” Alice said.
“You were right to be suspicious of your visor, and the AI contained within. We found some embedded malicious code that reported to a central location,” Simon pointed out.
“I’m being tracked?”
“Yes . . . but not anymore. We’ve done a full system reset.”
“Doris? Can I get her back?
“Who’s Doris?” Simon asked.
“My AI—I miss her snarky bitchiness already.”
Simon smiled and said, “Let me see what I can do, but it might take a while.”
“I can wait. I already know where the snack bar is.”
Alice walked toward the break room. When she was out of earshot, Nigel said, “I noticed that you forgot to mention the goons.”
“I will . . . after I restore the AI.”
“You should check the integrity of that AI—we don’t want to give her a clean visor only to find out that the AI is compromised too.”
“Agreed, I will run a signature check against the last known good backup.”
“Do you even have her backup?”
“If MuseFam remotely backed up her settings, then I can get back in with the backdoor we implanted.”
“Make it happen while I check on our guest,” Nigel said.
Nigel walked into the break room. Alice was making a sandwich from various items she had found in the refrigerator.
“Why don’t you make yourself at home?” Nigel chuckled.
Alice looked up with a guilty look. “Sorry—I have not eaten all day.”
“That’s okay, eat up. You look like you can use the nutrition, anyway.”
“Thanks, Mr. Watson.”
“There’s something else you should know.”
“What’s that?” Alice said as she was assembling a massive-looking sandwich.
Nigel relayed his experiments of the day, leaving nothing out, placing an emphasis on the goons showing up after he had played the fake Alice audio files.
“You were attacked? Why?”
“Every time I played a clip of your voice, they showed up.”
“How did you fake my voice, anyway?” Alice asked, astonished.
“I’ve had trouble in the past with people trying to break in, so I record the goings-on in my entryway. The recordings were of sufficient quality to make new snippets of your voice using machine-learning algorithms. I only had enough of a sample to make brief clips, but they were enough to summon the goons,” Nigel explained.
Alice stopped eating. She shuddered visibly.
“What do these men want with me? Do you know who might have sent them?”
“Simon and I are working on that now, but I have my suspicions.”
“Who?” Alice urged.
“I’d rather not say until I have more information,” Nigel said.
Alice was silent for a moment.
“I want to listen to the clips.”
Nigel took out his tablet-sized phone, then found and played the clips.
“That sounds just like me!” Alice remarked.
“Using headphones, you can hear tonal variations and imperfections in quality, but listening with less sophisticated equipment, you would never know it was rigged. Wait—did you hear what I said about those guys attacking me?”
Alice looked away and refocused her attention on the sandwich.
“I think you might be in danger, and not just from that Hawk guy,” Nigel insisted.
Alice looked at Nigel, sighed, and then told him about her experience while en route to WSS that morning.
“I never put the two together,” Alice said.
“What two? What do you mean?”
“Doris, my AI, started acting strange after I bumped into Brenton Morris, the MuseFam CEO.”
“What?” Nigel was shocked. He shook his head. “You don’t know me, and I understand if you don’t trust me, but I think I can help you if I have more information. Can you give me a rundown of all the strange events that have happened to you over the past week? There must be something that triggered these guys. Using your visor attracted some thugs, and I want to know why.”
Alice retold all the strange events she had experienced after getting fired from Jonny’s studio, leaving nothing out. She even recounted the strange cloak-and-dagger experiences she’d had at the Reverend’s tent.
“You’ve had a lot of odd experiences in a short amount of time for it to be a coincidence. I think that someone is screwing with you. At least since you got involved with that club.”
“I don’t think Roxy is doing this, but other employees at the club might be. But why?”
“I’m not sure. This ‘Reverend’ guy sounds like he’s crazy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a connection with MuseFam. I will need to ask my daughter.”
“Wait, what does your daughter have to do with this?”
“Nothing . . . I hope. She works for MuseFam as a public relations manager.”
Alice remembered the video she’d seen almost a week ago of the woman at the podium getting objects thrown at her from an angry mob, accompanied by their hateful jeers.
“Is her name Andi?”
It was Nigel’s turn to be surprised. “How did—”
“I saw her on the news feed a few days ago. No offense, but I don’t think she’s that great at her job,” Alice interrupted.
Nigel laughed, and then said, “She used to be a hacker, but she wanted to try something else.”
“How can she help?”
“She works with the MuseFam executives. I’m hoping she’s heard something.”
Alice gave Nigel a steely eyed look as she finished her sandwich. “Thanks for offering to help. I do appreciate it, but I can’t accept it. I can’t afford to pay you, and I just want my life back,” Alice said.
“I’ve worked with Brenton before—he’s a shrewd businessman. He’s a rich bully that won’t stop until he gets what he w
ants. Even if he has to break the law. He has several key members of law enforcement on his payroll to keep him out of prison.”
Alice heard Nigel’s words, but couldn’t yet process them. Her mind was racing to keep up with this new information and what it meant for her safety.
How did I get on MuseFam’s radar? This all started when I got involved with Roxy. Is there a connection?
“Don’t worry about my fee for the work on your visor—consider it payment for the consultative work that you will be doing for me.”
“Are you offering me a job?”
“Not exactly. I just want to expose that bastard, Brenton.”
“I thought that MuseFam was up to no good! I accept your proposal, Mr. Watson.”
“Let’s see if Simon needs help.”
It took some work, but Simon could find the cloud backups for Alice’s visor and restore it.
I should do a data verification, Simon thought.
Simon put the visor on. The HUD’s interface was unique. He noticed an arrangement of photos that appeared as square thumbnail images. They were small, but he could see the basic context and content of the photos. His heart raced as he thought about the possibilities of viewing those stacks of little images before him. With a few hand gestures, he expanded one of the photo stacks. Several folders appeared; he opened a folder labeled “Jamie.” It displayed several pictures of Alice on the AR interface. She looked several years younger. The pictures were taken in multiple settings—some with instruments, others of Alice with another man. Some of these were intimate.
I shouldn’t be looking through these, but I need to check file integrity, he rationalized.
Simon zoomed in on one of the intimate ones. Alice was lying on an unmade bed wearing a tank top with a large oversized flannel shirt draped over her shoulders. Simon noticed that she had the prettiest of smiles. Her blue eyes gleamed even behind the glasses she wore. The man next to her was handsome, but he wasn’t smiling. Simon felt his jaw tighten just looking at the man with a perfect jawline and curly brown hair.
I should stop looking at these, Simon thought.
But he kept looking at the photos. He couldn’t stop himself. Some at the beach, others in the city. He collapsed the “Jamie” folder and selected a folder called “Girl about town,” which showed Alice in several areas around the city. Some were comical, others were serious. He selected a folder called “Recent,” which showed Alice in various photos with lots of different people, including truck drivers, older guys with instruments, and other women. He froze when he saw another folder labeled “Private.” His breathing quickened, and his heart started beating faster as he moved his virtual hand over the folder.
