Crash Flux 1: Welcome To The Machine (9 page)

“My creation.  It’s called nano-wrap.  It can restore, enhance, and alter tactile perception.  What do you suppose the Keta wanted to use it for?”

“I can take a wild guess.”

“Most people think of touch as the final arbiter of reality.  What if it were not?  What if it were as easy to manipulate as the eyes, the ears, or the tongue?  I had perfected the final process the Keta needed to complete Haven View, though it would not be called that for many years.”

“So how did you go from being an engineer to… this?”

“The Keta opened me up to a whole new world.  I had always considered them a myth, and had similar opinions about infobursting.  It took a final revelation to show me that the world I was living in was an illusion.”

“There is only one flaw that prevented the Keta from complete and total control over all of our perceptions, that of tactile sensation.  No matter how good your neural interface, Virtual Reality can not simulate the body’s sense of touch without something like nano-wrap.  Think about it.  Every time you touched something in VR, every time you felt the breeze through your hair, what was missing?”  She brushed her fingers across the side of his arm.  “This.  This was missing.”

Raydin felt something stirring within, sympathy, passion, lust… he was not sure which, only that he felt it strongly.  He said, “I somehow doubt the Keta’s intentions are as benign as they seem on the surface.”

“You are correct, of course.  In twenty years, everyone in Datcora will be inside one of these coffins.  In fifty, who knows?  Maybe the entire world will be living in a dreamland.  I just try to enjoy reality while I can.”

“You make a very tempting offer.”

“You haven’t heard the best part.”  She leaned forward, kissing him.

He withdrew, and Raydin said, “What about my friends?”

“I’m afraid they are on their own.  I can’t help them.  I can, however, help you.  Let me show you something.”  He followed her out the bedchambers, outside the throne room, and back into the central coffin chamber.  She climbed up the stairs, to one of the upper levels, and opened one of the coffins by manipulating the console to the side of the platform.  Inside, Raydin saw his own face, his own body, lying naked inside the chamber.

“It’s a clone.  Direct from Lifetree, grown in six hours and shipped in two.  Add in another hour for padwork, and you can see by its tag that it arrived less than thirty minutes ago.  Completely brain-dead, of course, but it will serve for our purposes.  We need a body, they need a corpse.”

“You want to fake my death.”

“Absolutely.  This cost me a fortune, by the way.  But I want you to know how much I value your abilities.  Not everyone can pull off what you did.”

“I’m grateful to you, really.  But I can’t just abandon my friends.  We need to get out of Datcora.”

“And where will you go?  Void Gate has an expedition treaty with Datcora for terrorist crimes.  Lifetree is one of Datcora’s biggest economic competitors, there is no way they will grant you amnesty.  Mecca is in the middle of a civil war between a military junta and a theocracy, and as for the Pitt… you’re trying to escape a prison, not break into one.”

“I don’t know.  But if we can find a safe place to stay, even for a few days, we can buy out Humantix and completely restructure Datcora’s government.  I can’t explain it, but we have more money than the gross domestic product of Void Gate.  All we need is a little time to…”  Raydin trailed off, not sure where he was going with this.

Dora turned her head, doubt filling her mind.  “You want to buy Datcora?  I’m sorry Raydin, I can’t help you do that.  I don’t have the resources… I can’t.  I can hide you for a little while, but if you get into trouble, you are on your own.”

“Then we need to leave.  My friends need me right now, if the Z-men don’t already have them, they will soon.  We need shelter, we need access, and we need protection.  If we can’t find that here, then we have to go.”

She turned away, leaning her head over the railing.  She laughed softly.  “Alright.  My offer still stands.  If you change your mind by the tenth tock, make your way back here.  After that, you are on your own.”

She sighed, her arms crossed against the railing with a half empty glass of wine in her right hand.  “It’s too bad, you know?  I thought you could have been the one.”

“Goodbye Dora.  And thank you.”

Dora didn’t bother turning around.  “Don’t bother.  I’ll send you the bill for my services.  You can pay me if you make it out of here alive.”  Dora whistled, and a guard rounded the steps.  “Escort him off the premises.  He can make his own way to Rafters.”

Raydin looked around as he exited the main entrance.  A man dressed in rags approached him.  “Your friends told me to tell you that they are going to meet here.”  He handed Raydin a matchbook.  The name on the back of the sleeve read Bootleggers Haven.  Raydin said, “Thanks,” and tossed the man a cigarette.  The man said, “Thanks mister.  Hope you find your friends.”

Raydin pocketed the matchbook, and said, “Me too.”

*

It didn’t take Raydin long to find the place.  Hundreds of outdated holo projectors surrounded a secondary support column, displaying counter culture media and entertainment.  Underneath the holo block, a ramshackle structure with no ceiling was braced against the support beam, its foundation bolted to the metal plates connected to the column.  Some of the resident club patrons were lounging outside in hammocks near the main structure.  Inside, there were different sections playing different kinds of music.  A wooden bar wrapped halfway across the structure, merging into a metal mesh surface, and finally ending toward the back next to an old fashion brick kitchen.  Poker Tables, Roulette Wheels, and monitored number games were spread out over the first section, and Raydin kicked up sawdust as he made his way to the bar.  In the center, circular dance platforms climbed towards the ceiling, surrounding the column, packed with people dancing to the rhythm of the techno blasting from the thousands of tiny speakers.  He caught the Thao from the rustic country sounds fading into the background from the small casino, and in the brick restaurant he saw dimly lit booths with laughing couples, where the more affluent members of the Rafters gathered.  He took a seat at the bar.

Irule slid into the seat next to him.  “How did it go?”

Raydin flagged the busy bartender and said, “Fairly well, considering.”

“What happened?”

“We are back where we started.  We need to get out of here.”

Irule sniffed.  “Adon figured as much.  He’s over there, by the booth, talking with a Coyote from Void Gate.  Gotta' hand it to him, the boys on the ball.”

“Where’s Burk?”

“He’s wrangling up some cash over at the poker tables.”  She thumbed behind her.  “With any luck we will have some chits to spend when we get to the Wheel.”

Raydin said, “So that’s the plan?  We just walk right into the lions den?”

“That’s about the size of it.  Our money will go farther there, it will be easier to book passage out of Datcora, and we will have more access.  Don’t ask me how we are going to get there.  We might as well relax till Adon returns.”

Irule stole a drink from a man passed out next to her.  She stirred the drink with her finger, turned towards Raydin and said, “So, the famous Raydin Hiroshima, in the flesh.”

The bartender approached them, and asked, “What you’ll have?”

Raydin said, “Scotch.”  The bartender nodded in Irule’s direction, and he signaled he’d pay her tab.

She finished her drink and said, “I’ll have a bourbon.”  The bartender poured her drink, and she said, “Never figured you for a Scotch drinker.”

Raydin said, “Never figured you for a bourbon drinker.  Seems too backwoods, you’re too much of a cetigirl for that.”

“Look who’s talking.  You’re what, five foot nothing?  Pale as a ghost?  Figured you for a Vodka man for sure.”

“I was a wastelunder, remember?”

“You seem pretty urban to me.  So tell me, that thing with the Mitosis commercial, was that your tag that had everybody applauding that piece of shit car?”

“I’m not telling.”

“What about the library of congress virus?  That seems more like your style.”

“That was me.  I was young and thought I knew something.  I should have been trying to preserve knowledge, not destroy it.”

Irule, bored, changed the subject.  “So.  You ever go downtown?”

Raydin finished his drink, and swallowed hard.  He paused for a moment, grinned, and said, “Hell, I live downtown.”

Irule snickered, and said, “Wiseass, you know what I mean.”

Raydin set down his glass and said, “Not with a colleague.”

Irule sprawled her arm across the bar and lay her head down on top of it, looking up at him.  She laughed, “Are you for real?”

“Real enough to know when I’m being played.  You call that one, The Drunken Cheerleader, right?”

Irule sat up suddenly, her back stiff.  “You know our playbook?”

“You mean, Mrs. Winters guide to Etiquette?  Sure, it’s the Domina’s handbook.  You can’t tell me a woman of your particular bent has never heard of it?”

She took a stiff drink, and said, “I wrote it.”  She saw the surprised look on Raydin’s face, and said, “Oh, don’t look so shocked.  You know how I make my living.  Blackmail is a lucrative business.”  

She continued.  “Deep down, you know you want it.  Every alpha male is exactly alike, buried underneath all that machismo is some petty insecurity that propels men to commit atrocities.  Guys like you need to be controlled, need to be put down, it’s the only thing that keeps your egos in check.  Somewhere along the line, men learned to equate sex with violence, and if wasn’t for every slut, skank, and two bit harlot selling herself on the street, you’d kill us all.”  She slammed back her drink and pushed the glass towards the bartender.  “Una mas cervasa por favor!”

Raydin, taken aback, simply stared at her.  Irule set about peeling the label off her beer, touching it in such a way that it seemed to lay all her insecurities bear.  “You ever stop to consider maybe I’m playing you because I like you?  I’ve known you for less than a year, and this is what?  The fourth time we’ve met in person?”

Raydin felt sorry for her, wanted to reach out to her, but he didn’t know if he was being played.  Irule’s eyes brightened, she turned her head up and smiled.  “Love is easy to fake.  All you have to do,” she said as she put her hand on his knee, “is look them deep in their eyes, lean forward…” she leaned in close to his face, her breath tickling his cheek.  As her lips neared his, he turned his head.  “Irule… not like this…”

Irule drew back, her lips turned up in a broad smile.  “I knew you were different Raydin.”  She stood up, leaned over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Catch me if you can,” and headed for the dance floor.  He watched her climb up the platforms without looking back, and shook his head in confusion.

Raydin sat nursing his drink, when he spotted a woman walking towards him.  She was petite, hair cut short in a pageboy style, she wore black jeans and a red top that didn’t leave much to the imagination.  Across her skin, it was as if someone had etched veins of jagged black and gold circuitry, and she had a glow from being out on the dance floor for so long.

She turned the back of the bar seat around and sat on top of, arms crossed against the back.    “Who was that?  She looked harsh.”

“Coworker.”

She lifted one eyebrow and said, “Buy me a drink?”

Raydin shrugged without turning to face her.  “Sure.”

She ordered a bottle of something with a picture of a cranberry on it.  Raydin looked up at her and said, “So what’s your story?”

“I’m the queen’s herald, Xia.  She sent me here to keep an eye on you.”

“What are you going to do when the Guard finds me?”

“Just watch.  I’ve been told not to interfere.”

“Amen.  So why did you come over here?”

“I figure it would be better if I didn’t spook you by watching you from the corner of the room.  I also figured it be an easy way to pick up a free drink.”

“So what’s with the…um…”

“The skin implants?  An earlier experiment in tactile perception.  Not quite as striking as nano-wrap… but then again, who wants that much attention?”

“I bet you tell most people it’s just a tattoo.”

“It’s kind of hard to ignore.”  She pulled some sort of aerosol spray from the clip on her belt.  She covered herself in a fine mist, closing her eyes, clenching her fists and smiling, her entire body seemingly contracting into a tight little ball, then releasing all the tension at once.  She clipped the tiny aerosol back on her belt.  “It’s just water.”

Raydin didn’t say anything, he let her fill in the pauses with her labored breathing.  She winked at him and said, “Lets dance.”

She grabbed Raydin by the hand, nearly yanking him out of the chair.  She walked backwards, pulling him towards the stairs, then turned back around, pushing him upwards, towards the dance platforms.  She found a small platform with enough room for a couple more people.  She picked up the rhythm, and Raydin tried to follow her lead.

They moved back and forth, timing and structure shifting through them, until there was a spark, and they kissed.  Xia spotted Irule dancing on another platform, not far from them, and turned Raydin’s head towards her.  She laughed, “Where did you learn how to dance?  You’re stiff as a board.”

Raydin said, “I thought I did pretty well.  We didn’t catch the spotlight, but nobody laughed at us either.”  Raydin pointed towards the monitors where a new couple had just caught the eye of one of the camera drones buzzing the club.

“I suppose you dance pretty well for someone fresh out of the Hub.  But if all you are trying to do is avoid embarrassing yourself, you’re missing the point.  C’mon.”  She pulled him up higher, climbing the tree of interlocking platforms until she found a half empty platform with one railing.  Raydin took a look over the edge and swooned a little.  “Cut it loose.  Have some fun.”  Raydin could feel the heat and the sweat, felt the tension as they danced, he relished in it, he felt as if he were a million miles over the ground.