by Stuart Dodds
“Got any shows that involve betting? We could come to an agreement then.”
“We could look into that,” Mayleth said slowly.
“Good,” the Tinker puffed on his pipe.
As the limousine swooped around the Elytian cityscape, Mayleth glanced at her chronometer. It was not too late, there was enough time for a proper session tonight with her “people”. Whilst Ayleth reduced himself into a semi-conscious state with his sprays and potions, she would entertain herself with a couple of her specially programmed pleasure bots. Whom should she pick tonight? The thought raised her spirits for the remainder of the journey.
Chapter 11 - Deep Yellow
Oblivion. Euphoric, thoughtless oblivion. Floating free of emotion, painful memories and doubt. Detached, disconnected, a beautiful liberation.
As Brell drifted within her vacuum, the guards patrolled, inmates talked, autobots swept, and daily prison life went on.
Her body was free, her mind released, nothing mattered, the cell, and prison did not exist. Then a slight kink occurred within the beautiful void, colours greyed slightly. Unwanted conscious reality slowly returned. Deep Yellow users talk of differing experiences when coming around; for Brell it was an awareness of the weight of her body, in particular the sense of feeling in her fingers. Brell rubbed her hands across the stiff bed fabric, trying to remember where she was. Within a locked bedroom in her quarters? On a space cruiser on way back to Corps HQ after a leave period on a vacation moon? In prison, in her cell with nothing to look forward to? With eyes still closed, she had no choice but to allow the present back into her mind. Prison. Mind numbing prison. She remained relaxed for as long as possible and when real life could not be rejected, she opened her eyes. Groggily, she got up and splashed water on her face.
“Welcome back to the world.” She said aloud, to her unsmiling reflection.
She sat on the privy and propped her head in her hands. Deep Yellow whilst a wonderful drug, it was also a curse, a ruination of many a career. As her Police Corps instructor once said, ”As soon as you take Deep Yellow you are on a collision course.”
***
“Good morning recruits. This morning we will examine one of the Associations most popular, but illegal substances, Deep Yellow.” The class instructor said.
Brell was eighteen, a new Police Corps recruit, and sat in a classroom with her colleagues at the Academy.
“Watch this,” the instructor said.
The lights dimmed and a holo screen appeared. A man dressed in a white coat held a bottle of yellow liquid and looked towards the camera.
“Seconds after drinking Deep Yellow, its nano filaments swim through the bloodstream, forming a small, powerful mass of nerves, which latches onto brain cell receptors. After a brief interval, three words form and appear in the users mind. If the user opens their eyes at this point, the words would be visible as if displayed on a transparent screen. However, it leaves its mark on the brain and nervous system. Many users claim that they live a normal working life whilst taking DY occasionally. However, it is risky. Constant overuse can lead to brain freeze, where the user does not know if they are in the real or Deep Yellow world.”
A beam clip appeared, showing various people being led into a doctor’s room by a relative. Whilst their eyes were open, the drug users were not registering any outside stimulation.
“Does anyone know the basic three menu words that appear after someone has taken DY?”
“Sir, there is ‘thought’ for contemplating a single thought or idea. ‘Sensual’ for visual and internalised body sense stimulus. ‘Oblivion’ for a euphoric experience where no stray thoughts can interfere.”
“Thank you, Jensen, good answer, you show a lot of knowledge regarding the subject.”
“Sir, my given mother works in a Police Corps laboratory.”
“That’s good. Now, during your career you will undoubtedly meet a fellow officer who has or is about to take the substance.”
“Why would they do that?” Brell said in a low voice to her colleague, who nodded back.
“What was that, Sturlach?”
“Sir, I was wondering why Corps officers would destroy their careers by taking Deep Yellow, or any illegal substances, for that matter.”
“You’ll be surprised. I have seen a few good officers brought down by Deep Yellow abuse and intox amongst other substances. Stress, relationship difficulties, and work problems are just a few reasons why someone would take it. Use your gland enhancements and legal highs as necessary, but as soon as you take Deep Yellow, you could be on a collision course to forfeit your pension and everything else.”
“Yes Sir, I’m not going to waste my career away by taking that stuff,” Brell said.
“Good. Let’s have a look at the drug itself.”
The scientist appeared again, and a smaller image screen opened in the top right of the screen. His voice was boring on its own, so someone had added images for interest.
“Deep Yellow also known as Deep, DY, Yello, Yell and Mellow was discovered years ago when an apothecary working within a brain injury research unit mixed yellow bark root with nano psyche technology. Instead of detecting brain abnormalities, the swarm became a powerful drug. The apothecary’s line manager dismissed it as an unnecessary by-product. Realising the benefits of the substance, the apothecary manufactured it for a local crime syndicate. Expensive to create, it soon became the must-have drug, if you could afford it. Deep Yellow dealing and usage soon came to the notice of the Police Corps, and it was added to the Association’s list of illegal substances.”
“The ingredients are processed into tablet, spray, or liquid form. Whilst small liquid ampoules are a handy size, it is not as powerful as the distilled bottled version. Two years of room temperature storage is the optimum time for the best vintage, as the menu option gives a fuller visual and physical experience. Serious users have their own menu options, created by skilled chemists for various visualisations of the darker aspects of life and death. Those users tell us they prefer the personal inward experience rather than immersion in Holo Worlds.” The scientist finally ended his speech, to the relief of many in the class.
“Quite a bit to take in,” the instructor said, snapping the class back to the present. “It is useful to know how the drug is created so that when you are on a drug raid, you have an idea of what to look for. It could be you find bottles of the stuff, under floorboards, where it has been left to ferment. Read your holo assignments for more information, in particular the clips of real drugs raids taking place and the Corps anti-drug school programmes which you will be involved in.”
***
Brell sat down on the bed, back against the wall. She was probably the subject of an anti-drug case study. Fresh faced Police Corps recruits would be warning school students about the dangers of Deep Yellow and the damage it can do to a career.
Of course, nothing could beat that first hit, the first immersion into oblivion. And all because of a couple of lazy detectives in an old dwelling house.
***
She was working on a busy inner precinct within the capital city of Velen Two. Newly promoted to sergeant, Brell found herself in charge of a small team of uniform and detective officers. Her stress implants worked overtime as everyone expected her to make decisions and get things done. Comms control were constantly calling her up, other sergeants were ducking their responsibilities, and her team was difficult to manage. In particular, two grouchy lazy detectives, who did not like to be supervised. She had worked the last three months with few days off. Local crime problems and visits by dignitaries meant that leave was constantly cancelled. No wonder the previous sergeant had moved on for a quieter life. Intox often became the sleep aid of choice.
Brell’s team were tasked with searching a large, decrepit block building used by members of a local criminal gang. Nothing sold, virtual or real without it going through this particular group. After a tip-off, they had been arrested that morning by the Laser Tac
tical and Technical Arrest Unit. Some of the unit hid themselves in an underground storage unit, whilst others dressed as staff. When the gang opened the unit door, instead of finding a cache of credit receiver units, they were at the receiving end of laser strikes and vacuum bombies. When the dust settled, a Corpswoman had been vaporised and three gang members were lying in bits. The remainder of the gang were netted and taken to HQ for processing.
Despite the moaning from her team, Brell would not enter the building until it was scanned and sniffed. Both detectives munched wormweed whilst rolling their eyes. Once inside, Brell’s team methodically searched each room whilst the holo assistants logged evidence. Various stashes of intox, chips, Deep Yellow, MK, and other drugs were discovered, but after the first sweep, Brell was not satisfied.
“There is more here, these are just a few stashes to put us off the big stuff.”
“Nah, they’re just stupid, that’s all,” Detective 1 said, spitting some wormweed on the floor.
“Got enough evidence to keep the bosses off our backs. Time for lunch, eh?” Detective 2 said and scratched his stomach.
Brell thought it over. The easiest thing would be to give in and walk away with what they had, keep the team happy. The holo assistants waited for a decision.
She went with her gut feeling. There was something about this dusty, stinky old house.
“We do it again. Be more thorough this time, hand held scanners into nooks and crannies.”
The team mumbled and grumbled as they trudged back into the building. Brell walked around the front and back of the building again and then went back inside to check on progress.
“Waste of time,” she heard someone say over her implant comm channel.
Then she heard, “Hey, sarge, got something you should see.” Her heart beat a little more as she ran up the stairs.
“What have you got?”
“Just found an old stuffed bird inside a wall cavity.”
There was a snigger of laughter from the others who had wandered upstairs to see what had been found.
“Ha, ha,” Brell said slowly and picked up the dead Puffer bird and threw it across the room. A holo assistant glided over to scan and log it.
“Who was the old stuffed bird?” someone muttered from within the group of officers. Brell ignored it.
“Come on, one last sweep, let’s get on with it.” She paused and waited until the two detectives started scanning the rooms. She knew as soon as she left the room, they would sit down and just instruct the assistants.
As she went back down the stairs, she thought about the walls. Wide enough for someone to put, unbelievably, a stuffed bird inside. Being an older building, its construction was dated, unlike most modern dwellings and living pods which had thin mixed-material walls, millimetres thick, which gave ample sound and thermal protection.
“Holo 1,” Brell said. The supervisory level assistant appeared in front of her. “Have you scanned the building structure?”
“Yes, sergeant. Fully completed.”
“Any anomalies?”
“No, sergeant.”
“Floor by floor on view.”
Holo 1 projected a floor scan of the structure in the centre of the room. Brell stepped back, scratched under her protective helmet, then reached forward and rotated the image. She was clutching at straws. May be best to call it off, the team would be delighted. The gang lived here for some time and a Corpswoman is dead. Concentrate.
“Top down. Bottom up. Main view.” She spun the image around; there was something about the top floor. The two internal rooms seemed narrower than the rooms below. A couple of minutes later, Brell walked back up to the top of the stairs and stood on the small landing, two room doors either side. Turning around, she stared at the wall at the back of the stair space, the wall that a lazy officer would not bother to reach up and scan. Inside both rooms, the scanner readout was clear when pressed against the walls at the rear.
“Jherzery. Bring the extension pole up to the top of the stairs.”
Brell heard footsteps coming up the creaky stairs, with more joining in; this was obviously becoming the final show in front of the team. The sergeant’s last job before letting the team do whatever they wanted, as long as their overtime requests were authorised.
Jherzery duly arrived, carrying the pole. The faces of the team, now bunched together on the floor below, gazed up at her. Even the holo assistants had joined them. Attaching the scanner to the pole, she went down a few steps, then reached up and placed it against the wall above her.
“Beep, beep.” Lowering the pole, she reset the scanning density amidst the low muttering and laugher from below. Checking the device again, she held it up against the wall.
“Bong. Bong. Bong.” The screen glowed red.
“Get the cutters,” Brell said as slowly as she could manage.
“Yes sergeant.” Jherzery ran back down the stairs, pushing the mumbling team out of the way. An awkward few minutes followed, waiting for the cutters, but when Jherzery lasered through the back wall of the main room and revealed the large cavity, Brell felt elated. She took off her helmet and rubbed both hands across her head, her hair damp with sweat.
Brell enjoyed watching the two detectives scrambling around in the small room, which groaned with chips, memo streams, comm links, and stolen property.
“Get logging.”
The two detectives silently got on with their work.
What happened next changed Brell’s life. Happy that everything was scanned and bagged, she informed the team to reassemble at the front door whilst she completed a final room sweep to check that equipment had not been left behind. Such was her trust. One of the second level rooms was full of furniture and assorted old gadgets piled on top of each other. Around the back of one pile, a broken table with a small drawer lay on its side. It took some determination, but Brell managed to pull the drawer out. Her fingers curled around a small bottle. Deep Yellow, another item to add to the list. This is one of the detective’s rooms, too lazy to get on his knees or direct the assistants. There was nothing else inside the drawer, luckily for him.
She went over to a window and held the bottle up to the sunlight. As she turned the bottle in her hand, the golden liquid cascaded slowly inside, the nano flecks twinkling as it caught the light. It was mesmerising.
Breaking her gaze, she reached up to call Holo 1, but stopped herself. Almost unknowingly, she put the bottle in her pocket and made her way downstairs.
“Well done, everyone a good haul found. Back to base.”
She felt oddly excited talking to them with an illegal substance hidden in her pocket. Did they know what she had done? If she did not log the bottle as evidence soon and it was found on her, it could be a career-ending move.
The bottle stayed in her pocket.
***
The thing was that after taking her first Deep Yellow, the following two weeks at work were easier. She was so relaxed and confident that the team gossip was that she must have a new boyfriend. Of course, after two weeks, things went back to normal and her thoughts turned to whether she could get away with taking more Deep Yellow.
She laughed at the memory, a new boyfriend? Her relationships were often disasters, but that was another story.
Rubbing the back of her head with both hands, she knew that a thought was trying to emerge. Something recent.
“The Challenge,” she said aloud and clapped her hands.
Chapter 12 - Reports are good
“Drink. Whit beer, large.” Williams took his beer out of the auto chef and sunk back into his seat. Time to view some of the reporters’ beamlogs. The day had gone well. Whilst there were many questions regarding security, such as “will we see a repeat of the previous challenge when the inmates got out?” all reports were positive. More importantly, they were awestruck by the holo worlds.
Williams took a few sips of the intox, rubbed his eyes, and made a few commands to watch some of the highlights of the day. The r
eporters all had small drone cameras hovering around so they could make comments directly whilst walking around. The reporter from one of the religious channels did not ask any questions and appearing bemused at the whole thing.
“This is Xerica Bnieeder reporting from the main stage of Convict Challenge.”
Williams remembered working with Xerica years ago; solid reporter, not given to easy frippery. She went up to the door at the back of the stage.
“The winner will arrive through here and then be welcomed in front of the studio audience. The audience, who are yet to be picked, will appear as their virtual selves, via their surround equipment from home.”
Walking to the front of the stage, she paused, then pointed out the area where the audience would appear.
“The cell block is situated behind the audience. The whole cell and security area is contained within massive diamond hard glass walls and ceilings backed up by hard beam technology. Let’s hope there is no repeat of the security problems at the last Challenge.” She looked into the cam with a quizzical face.
“Well, one of the murderers will win and be given their freedom, but hopefully they will do it on the Challenge, not by digging a tunnel.” Williams groaned and hit fast forward.
“This is one of the inmate’s cells. I’m told it is slightly larger than their normal prison cells. I don’t have any direct experience of this obviously.”
Williams laughed. He remembered years ago when Xerica had a run-in with the Police Corps when a journalists party got out of hand in Elytia Central. She had been stunned, bagged, and tagged by the Corps and spent a few hours in the cells sobering up. Over the next few months, she hunted down and erased virtually all images of the incident. Still, he might invite her to the wrap-up party.
“The inmates have also been allowed auto chefs inside their cells. This is a better one than I have in my office. Apparently it took a lot of persuasion before Prison Corps allowed it, but hey, all bar one of the challengers will use it for their last meal.” Xerica looked sideways into the camera.
