Syn City- Reality Bytes

by Bard Constantine

  I sigh, gritting my teeth in frustration. "Look, we can do this all day, but I know it won't matter. I'm here because I need information."

  "You mean Cyber Corp needs it. I get it. And with the proper payment, they can have it."

  "You need more money?" I glance around. "Isn't this printing more than you can spend?"

  He shrugs. "It's not about money. It's about value. If I provide a service for free, then it's worthless."

  "Fine. What's the cost this time?

  He smiles. "I'll make it easy on you for old time's sake. I'll do you this favor, and you owe me one."

  "A favor?"

  "Yeah. Will that work?"

  "I'm not having sex with you, Nox."

  A grin flashes across his face. "I'm wounded. As fantastic as that would be, I get all the sex a man can take right here. We're talking a future investment."

  I hesitate. He has an ulterior motive, but I can't figure it out. "What can I possibly do for you in my situation?"

  "You never know. Do we have a deal or not?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  "Good. So—what do you want to know about Dean Gray?"

  I stare at him. "How did you know?"

  "Elementary, my dear Enigma. Last time I gave you his name. But it looks like you're still chasing your tail."

  "Well, yeah. We found out information on Dean, but nothing that helps. His parents are both dead, his last known residence vacated. He core-jacks synoids for money and keeps that income stream off the records, so there's no trail to follow. And the privacy standards of Immersion habitats make it easy to rent a DSP under a false name, so there's no way to find his current location."

  "You need to track him here in Elysia."

  "Yeah. I think he might be flushed out the system now, but he'll be back in Immersion soon enough. I need a sure way to find him when that happens."

  He shrugs. "Okay."

  "Okay? Just like that?"

  "There's always a way, White Rabbit. Leave it to me. I'll contact you when I have it."

  "Fine. I owe you."

  "I'll collect." He regards me with a keen gaze as if trying to read my mind. "You know she's alive, don't you?"

  "Dabria? Yeah, I know."

  He must hear something in my voice, because a triumphant look flashes across his face. "She contacted you, didn't she?"

  "Yeah. Briefly. Straight to business. You know how she is."

  "Yeah, I know exactly how she is. Promise me you won't let her influence you again. You're a walking time bomb, and she won’t care whether the detonator goes off or not."

  "I didn’t know you cared, Nox."

  "You know better. I've always been honest with you, whether you liked what I had to say or not. Dabria hasn't. So promise me, okay?"

  "I gotta go." I reach up to remove my v-drive when he stops me, reaching out and touching my gleaming metal arm.

  "You ever think about us, Enigma? Before everything went to hell?"

  I look into his golden eyes. "You mean before you quit?"

  He grimaces. "Yeah. Before I quit."

  I pull my arm away. "No. That's ancient history."

  The lair winks out of existence when I remove the v-drive, replaced by my hotel room in the Bradbury. The air smells like old wood and stale air, and the windows pulse with soft neon lighting. I lean back in my chair and try to forget about Nox. What happened in the past doesn't matter anymore.

  More and more, it seems like nothing does.

  Chapter 5: 5P3CT3R

  I try to ignore the hibernation hangover, but it lingers like a vengeful spirit.

  With my body replenished, at least I can finally manage to move without staggering like a drunken fool. My first stop is the deposit box to reclaim my essentials: a change of clothes including a durable overcoat equipped with concealed tech pockets and a retractable flak hood that disperses digital chaff in the presence of cameras to veil my face from surveillance.

  My metaflex commuter bag contains everything I need, which isn't much: my Sensync Immersion kit, a utility tool, a cy-gear glove, and thirty-five thousand in bullion cards. With that amount, I can return to Elysia for a six-month stint, but I'll be dead broke when the lease ends. As tempting as it is to forget everything and get back to Hel, I know what I have to do.

  Not trusting Flo to hold my pod, I make sure to bring my account to balance at a convenience machine. After that, it's time to head out. I nearly make it to the doors when an anxiety attack hits me out of nowhere. My legs shake, my heart pumps motor oil, my chest constricts, and I can barely breathe. Wheezing, I pull a pack of Chillz and pop a tab, swallowing the pill dry. The nanopowder hits my bloodstream immediately, activating pleasure sensors in my brain that produce a calming effect. In seconds I feel like I'm walking on clouds.

  A robot assistant rolls over. "Do you need medical assistance, Mr. Smith?"

  I wave it away. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

  Taking a deep breath, I enter the elevator. The doors rattle shut, and the sensation of temporary buoyancy follows, evoking a brief nausea spell when the lift shoots upward, several hundred floors to the surface.

  There's nothing to see when I exit. The compound is just another building in a massive industrial sector. The overly bright neon sign is practically the only illumination on the whole block. Most of the surrounding buildings are derelict, abandoned over time as business dried up and residents left the Inland Empire in floods. From what I've learned in the archives, San Bernardino wasn't exactly a shining jewel back when the Cataclysm struck. The resulting devastation didn't do the place any favors.

  It's a long walk to the lift station, where I wait to catch a shuttle. Dim lights barely illuminate the empty station. Shadows are everywhere, and I can't help but imagine hidden threats in every one of them. In Elysia, I've fought and won in survival tournaments, went toe-to-toe with cyber ninjas, and stormed military bases on other planets. In the real world, I'm no threat to anyone. Skinny, undernourished, and physically unimposing. My best option in the case of being attacked is to run, and even then I won't make it far.

  As if on cue, someone approaches. A woman dressed in an oversized, ragged old coat over equally threadbare clothes staggers toward me, reeking and sickly. Her skin is yellowed, her hair matted and filthy. Her eyes are wide and crazed, riddled with red veins. I clutch my bag tighter and edge a few steps away.

  She shuffles closer, staring at my face. "Hey, man. You're an Immerser, right? Just got out of Deep Sleep, right?"

  I try not to gag as I give her a sidelong glance. "Uh…yeah."

  "You got a holovisor, man? I just wanna borrow it. I ain't been inside for a while. Bastards upped my rent. I wanna, you know—just check in. My Alfie ain't seen me in weeks. He's worried sick; I know he is."

  I edge further away, careful not to look at my bag. "I don't have a holovisor."

  Her blistered lips curve in a sly smile. "Yes, you do. You do. Come on, man. I just wanna borrow it. You know how it is. I just…gotta check in."

  "Look, I'd love to help, but I don't have a holovisor. I can't even check in myself."

  Her face alters, wrinkling into a feral mask. "You're lying."

  I scan the sky desperately. "No, I'm not. Look, the shuttle is gonna arrive any second, so why don't you—"

  She throws her head back and screams, veins distending in her neck. It's a terrible sound, garbled and nearly inhuman. I can only stare in paralyzed shock as the sound echoes around us. When her cry finally ends, she doubles over, chest heaving. Her lank hair hangs over her face, and a string of saliva dangles from her lip. Her shoulders tremble, and a helpless sob escapes her.

  "Lies. All I hear are lies. You're just like the others. You don't see me. You don't know. I just need to get back in, man. Don't you understand?"

  She lifts her head, and for a split second, I see something in her eyes that hits me like a runaway train. It's the same thing I see in the mirror when I first come out of Immersion.

  A reflection.
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  Fortunately, the shuttle arrives, raising a cloud of dust when it drops from the sky. I quickly board the autopiloted vehicle and slouch in a seat as far away from anyone as possible. I glance behind, but the woman doesn't follow. She's just a shape in the shadows, a ghost without a place to rest. The doors hiss shut, cutting off the sight. The shuttle lifts off, leaving the station behind.

  There are only a few people inside, and they all look like they'd kill someone for their next meal. I keep a hand inside my jacket as if I have a weapon stashed there. Hopefully, I can make Downtown with all of my vital organs intact. The shuttle flight route is low, barely above the height of the buildings we pass over. A quiet storm breaks outside, raindrops sliding down the dirty glass and turning the view into blurs of light and darkness.

  I can't shake the encounter. Is that my future? An outcast from Elysia, derelict and alone, teetering on the verge of insanity?

  No way. Not me.

  I'm not like her. Not a half-crazed fiend dependent on handouts from people who avoid and despise me. I'm capable of creating income for myself, ensuring that I never go for too long without Immersion. Never too long without being with Hel. She's always with me. Her voice whispers in my ear, her lips soft as rose petals on my skin. I've never been more than a few days without her presence. I might be able to live without being in Elysia, but there's no way I could go on without Hel. Ever since that fateful day I met her, she's been the only constant in my life. My best friend, my constant companion, my passionate lover.

  My everything.

  I was fifteen when Mom interrupted one of my sessions in Elysia with Hel. I remember trying to hide my anger at the disruption, seething with impatience as I tried to focus on her dialogue when all I wanted was to return to my other life.

  She gave me a worried look. "I'm concerned about you, Dean. You're on that device nearly all day and night. You barely talk to me anymore. Your grades are suffering. I think you need to take a break for a while."

  My heart pumped pure panic at the thought. I immediately went into damage-control mode, working that good boy magic to ease her mind.

  "I'm sorry, Mom. It's just there's so much to do, and I met so many friends. They all want to hang out and play the newest campaigns. I promise I'll cut back and take more breaks. And I'll bring my grades back up. I can hook up with a tutor right there in Elysia who can help me get on track."

  Mom placed her hands on her hips. "I want honor roll by the end of the semester, Dean. Otherwise, I'll have to place restrictions on your Immersion time."

  "Ok, Mom. I promise."

  I smiled and waited expectantly, but she didn't leave. Instead, she adjusted her stance, looking atypically uncomfortable.

  "Dean?"

  "Yes, Mom?"

  "You haven't been into anything…adult, have you?"

  I fixed my face into a stare of pure innocence. "Adult? What do you mean?"

  She paused, mouth working as if trying to find the right words. "I mean…sexual. I talked with Linda the other day. She says she caught Timothy involved in something disturbing. Especially at his age. He's a year younger than you, for heaven's sake. I know I have the age parameters set, but sometimes things still slip past the restrictions. I don’t want you experiencing anything you shouldn't."

  "I haven't been into anything like that," I said quickly, looking embarrassed.

  "Are you sure? How much do you know about sex, anyway? We've never talked about it. Your father—" She frowned in frustration. "I didn't think I'd be the one to have this conversation."

  "It's okay, Mom. Sex education is part of my school curriculum. I know about reproduction and all that. You know—educational stuff."

  "Educational stuff." She sounded relieved. "Of course. Well, if you encounter anything beyond educational, I don't want you to be afraid or ashamed to talk about it, okay? You know you can always come to me, right?"

  "I will, Mom."

  "That's a good boy." She kissed me on the brow and hurried out, clearly glad for the conversation to be over.

  What Mom didn't know was that it took watching just one tutorial from U-Vid to learn how to bypass her security measures and get into all the mature content I wanted. It was the only way to advance my relationship with Hel to the next level. With the restrictions lifted, I had been exploring sexuality with her for the better part of a year.

  There was no way to explain to Mom about the experience. How Hel had been shy at first, then bold and tempting, teaching me how to kiss her correctly, how to touch her body in pleasure-arousing ways. How she guided me inside of her the first time, then cried in my arms afterward, whispering her gratefulness for having shared the experience with me.

  There was no coming back after that.

  We made love day after day, night after night. We made love on top of snow-capped mountains, showered by hot spring waters. We made love on the pink shores of azure beaches, on the soft sands of distant planets, illuminated by glittering light of multiple moons. We made love alone on silk sheets of luxury hotels, and in public bathhouses overflowing with other couples. I learned more about sex than any boy at that age should have known. Hel was never selfish, allowing me shared and solo encounters with multiple lovers, but I always came back to her. No one else understood me the way she did; no one else could thrill me the way she did. No one else compared.

  There was only her.

  My holoband buzzes on my wrist, jarring my thoughts. Without looking down, I already know it's Hel. I pull my Sensync headgear from my bag and put it on, sliding the visor over my face as the sensors latch onto my temples. Then I find the wireless drive and plug it into the jack behind my ear. Nothing about my surroundings change except that Hel now sits beside me, a concerned look on her face. She is in trendy street clothes: jeans with a button-up shirt and tie topped by a black blazer. Her gleaming black hair is styled into an elegant pompadour. It's what I call her stock look, how she most often appears. When she smiles, it's like everything else fades away.

  "Your girlfriend doesn't exist."

  I frown in confusion. "What?"

  "Enigma. You told me to find out what I could about her. I couldn’t find anything. She doesn't show up on any databases, has no public or private records I could find. She's a ghost."

  "Weird." I exhale, wincing from the stabbing pains in my chest. My lungs are still adjusting to breathing natural air.

  "Are you okay?" Hel scoots closer to me, sliding my arm around her shoulder. I practically wilt from the release of tension. The sensation of being with her again is instantly soothing, as if restoring a broken piece of myself. The neural interface allows me to feel her body against mine, smell the scent of oil in her hair and the lilac perfume on her skin. It's not as good as complete Immersion, but it's a breath of fresh air in the harshness of the real world. No one else on the shuttle can see her, but to me she's as real as any of them. It's not as if anyone notices. Most of them have holovisors on, ignorant of what's going on around them. Others talk to invisible friends and partners just like I'm doing.

  "I'm fine now. I missed you."

  Hel's fingers intertwine with mine and grasp tightly. "I was so worried when you didn't show up. What happened?"

  I squeeze her shoulder. "Nothing to worry about. I have to take care of some business. Deep Sleep raised the rates, and we fell a month behind. I'm about to boost our funds up so I can come back without worrying about money for a while. Those bastards nearly killed me by cutting my nutrient intake by half. Always raising the rent. I need to get my hands on some real funds this time."

  Her fingers blur when she opens her holoband and creates a search in the deep web. "Synoid market has gotten a lot more dangerous. The crackdown on handlers has everyone paranoid."

  "Yeah, I know. But that drives the payment up for someone who can deliver the goods, which works in our favor."

  "Who do you have in mind? Practically everyone we've dealt with has been arrested or driven out of business."

 
"Not Keno."

  Her eyes search my face. "Keno? Doesn't he still want to kill you?"

  I give her a genuine attempt at a reassuring smile. "I'm pretty sure he was exaggerating."

  Downtown San Bernardino is a ghost town where relics of pre-Cataclysm buildings die without dignity or grace. The crumbling, burnt-out husks are used to host homeless squatters, fugitives, and anyone looking for cheap thrills. People who venture into the area usually look to purchase contraband, drugs, or just party like it's the end of the world at one of the many raves that last all night long. Huge bonfires blaze; guns and firecrackers explode nonstop.

  I exit the shuttle and head into the thick of it. Ravers with tattoos, cyborg enhancements, multiple piercings, and handmade masks push and shove through the streets, screaming like banshees and moving to the pulse of music that swells from one stage to the next. I use the plugs from my headgear to mute the sound somewhat, staying on the fringe of the crowds so I won't get trampled.

  The harsh lights and deafening noise are almost too much. It's only the presence of Hel that gets me through. She takes in the chaos with a broad smile, staring wonderingly like she always does when she crosses over to the real world. Throwing her hands up, she laughs, shaking her hips in perfect time to the beat, every movement arousing. Her skin glows in the flashing lights, beaded with sweat, her body throwing shadows like everyone else. She looks so real that I'm only reminded she's not here in the flesh when someone walks right through her, temporarily disrupting her holographic image.

  We finally make it Mad Dawgs, a popular club in the area. It used to the City Hall sometime before the Cataclysm, the now the building is dilapidated like all the others. Windows broken, walls crumbling. But when I tap a button on my holovisor, everything changes. The CG effects filter transforms it into a hip-hop haven; the exterior savaged with torches and skull carvings, the entranceway fashioned into a snarling dog's head with the door in its open mouth.