Cat’s in the Bag
The night was always loud here. Didn’t matter which part of the week, because the cube gave people reasons to show up. It wasn’t as big as the multi-tier concourse a few blocks away. That’s why people rushed to it even before the doors opened. Only so many could fit inside. Once it hit capacity, the doors were shut right behind the last person in. There wasn’t any point in waiting in a line outside. No one wanted to leave until after the event was over. By that time, there was no reason to enter the cube. Had to wait until the next night.
For now, Caleb strolled along a sidewalk of a street five blocks away. He wasn’t in a hurry. Couldn’t be with so many people brushing against his shoulders when they passed by. He was aware of those random bumps that were intentional. It was okay, though, because the deck he was carrying was installed into his torso armor. Carbon fiber material, three layers, tiny bearings scattered throughout the joints making it flex along with his skin. Not hard enough to stop a bullet, but that wasn’t why he was wearing it.
His deck was like angel hair noodles lacing throughout the middle layer, which was filled with charged gel. Battery and hardware merged into one. Those transparent wires plugged into the nodes fastened like hot spots along the outer layer…which he was covering with his jacket.
Some of those intentionally bumping into him might have suspected he was protected, but they couldn’t help themselves. The only way to find out was to commit. The beauty of it was he didn’t even have to give a command. Any hacking attempt passing from their shoulder to his would meet those nodes, which recognized an attack when it came. Yet, any probe or virus or bot would be met with a reflexive trip from the node, kicking in a simple counter attack from the deck. The result was a pop of electricity sent into the intruder’s muscle. The amount of volts sent was always random. The intruder would feel something like a needle piercing them and was suddenly plagued with what might have been put into their bloodstream, or an annoying spasm would take control, forcing them to find a chance to leave the sidewalk before they accidentally smacked the wrong person.
To add to their dilemma, their own deck or chip insert would start feeding them a bunch of glitches. Depending on which sense they were using to keep up with their programs, they’d hear static or see it.
Caleb was wondering what static would smell like. He’d heard of operating systems programmed that way, but they weren’t his style. Anyway, he could have inflicted worse consequences, but he hadn’t put on his other decks fixed with lethal outputs. There was something else he had to accomplish. The gel could last for hours if all he wanted to do was shove in the face would-be hackers their attempts at stealing his personal data or alter his mood with some static-based enzyme programmed to go after the right part of his brain. No, he needed every bit of his gel’s charge to catch and release some files, and even though they were going to arrive in compressed form, they were still going to be huge.
Despite the surrounding murmurs and conversations, he was still aware of the roar of the crowd from inside the cube. Its walls were several layers thick. He didn’t care about the specs at the moment. After all, who hadn’t passed that info along? Anyone with plans to do something with it were limited. More than likely, they would sell it to someone who quickly found out their strategy to breech the cube’s walls never had a chance.
Apparently, though, his contact was convinced she had found a way. In order to find out if she was someone a whole lot of people will soon try to locate or just another poor soul with a strategy doomed to fail from before the concept stages, he had to stand in the right spot.
“She said five blocks out,” he muttered to himself, blending in with just about everyone along the sidewalk, “and near any hub.”
It was why he was walking toward a popular avenue known for its food trucks and little hole-in-the-wall pubs. He knew what she meant about a hub. It wasn’t because a lot of people passed through there out of convenience, but when he looked up, he grinned at the gobs of wires that produced a constant fog along the second and third floors of the buildings walling this area.
Creating their own routes and paths through the air, sometimes attaching to the outer walls of any nearby building, even choosing to climb higher to reach the roof, they all would find their way to a central line that grew the more they bonded with it. He knew where they were the thickest.
Yes, he knew things like that.
Which was why he was choosing to leave the sidewalk before he reached the corner of the intersection ahead. Dashing to the left, pushing through an old iron gate that whined on its hinges, he entered a stairwell. The wooden risers creaked and sounded hollow with every hurried step he took, having to keep his eyes trained on a painfully bright bluish neon light fixture attached to the wall at the top. The smudgy metal of the elevator doors to his immediate right absorbed the glow as a splattered fuzz. Putting a long dark hallway to his back, he pressed the button which slid the doors open. He stepped inside the faded interior before they finished parting. Jabbing the button to close them, he faced the hallway, thinking he might have seen someone slumped against one of the doors before the view was cut off.
All the way at the top, he stepped out onto the roof, aware of the sound of an acoustic guitar somewhere nearby. Glimpsing a group of people directly ahead, all of them gathering around what looked like a bunch of junk that was just set on fire, or those flames were coming out of some small container, he turned to circle around the top of the elevator shaft and headed for the edge of the building.
The popular avenue was below, but there would never be a seamless view of it from here. Not with the jumbles of cables and wires creating some sort of mid-air grid. So many of them were routing from the surrounding buildings to meet right next to Caleb. At his left was a box someone established whenever. It housed all the cables and wires that facilitated this block and several more beyond. Since then, the new arrivals had to just wrap around the box or lay on top of it. Together, they worked to get their feed to matter with those inside.
He wasn’t the first to come up here and tap into the mess. A laptop lay next to the base, still open, the screen dark and cracked, the letters on the keys all but vanished, every surface discolored or scratched. No doubt it was emptied by the person using it to be left as a decoy while they got away. The cable they had used to connect it to the hub was still attached. There was even a handheld reader lying useless next to the laptop. Someone else had tied it into the laptop’s cable.
He didn’t have to connect with wires.
Facing the hub, he spotted the cube at a distance. Its walls vibrated with the crowds inside, and those frequencies road the air like old radio waves, effecting his eardrums. He sat down and crossed his legs, letting the hub of wires encompass his vision. He placed himself close enough that he didn’t have to reach far with his right hand. Resting his palm against the nearest wire, he gripped it and let the node on the inside of his carbon fiber glove open a way for his deck to connect.
He grinned before he said, “I’m in.”
“What’s the password?” she responded. Her voice was translated through the deck, resonated in the gel, and wirelessly broadcast to his earpiece.
His grin stretched, more out of being a little surprised that she told the truth about being there than having to give the password. “Your favorite racer. Sir Splatter.”
“Why are you laughing?” she snickered, “Think it’s a cheesy name?”
“Would you call this whole thing off if I said yes?” he asked.
“Hey, everyone has their favorite.” She said. “Besides, you aren’t even into the races, as I recall. So I won’t hold it against you.”
“But you are,” he said, “and that’s why you’re doing this.”
“That’s definitely why I’m doing this!” She cheered.
“Have you even started penetrating the cube’s defensive layers yet?” he asked “Or were you waiting on me?”
“I’m actually in the middle of doing that right now.” She said.
His grin shrank some. “As in, you’ve breached the outer perimeter already?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” she asked.
“No way.” He responded. “I’d definitely want to see proof. And that’s not me trying to snoop or get you to give your location away. That’s just something anyone would want to see. The outer perimeter alone is a maze that, at best, throws the person back out. At worst, it holds them in place until the authorities arrive.”
“Oh, I had to fight through that numbing web agent,” she huffed, “but instead of trying to cut it like I’ve heard so many others do…”
“Getting themselves further entangled.” He stated and then chuckled, “Even sleepier.”
“Right, but I fooled the web.”
“Fooled it.” he said, curious.
“You see, there’s a small window of time right as the agent engages before a person gets trapped.”
“Yeah, but,” he said, his smile gone now, “from what I’ve heard, this window you talk about can’t be, what…like…?”
“A quarter of a second.” She giggled.
“You timed it?” he gasped.
“No. I had to glance back at my logs after I was past the outer perimeter.”
He blinked, “Okaaaay, so…you said you fooled it?”
“Yep!” she squeaked, “I let it catch me, but as soon as it did, I counteracted the sleepy part and just let myself fall under the perimeter.”
“Wait,” he said, “counteracted. What do you mean? Surely not sedatives. You’d have to go in with them already in your system.”
“Yeah, and I’d be too drowsy to do anything.”
“So, instead of accidentally giving yourself away…” he began, and then paused for her to finish his sentence.
“I threw myself off the top of a building right as I attacked the outer wall.” She laughed.
His brow furrowed, “But instead of falling to your death, you…”
“Oh, I had it all planned out.” She explained. “I didn’t even fall far. The idea was to hang up-side-down just long enough for all the blood to go to my head. You know what I’m talking about, right? You get all dizzy and stuff?”
His eyebrows went up, “Are you telling me that just a little bit of dizziness…”
“Was enough to trick the web into thinking I was already hit with the agent,” she snickered, “so it wasn’t triggered. And, like I fell physically, I fell underneath the web and landed on top of the middle layer.”
“Unbelievable.”
“But true!” she cheered. “And to keep it convinced, I’m still hanging up-side-down. So, let’s get this over with, huh? I don’t want a headache.”
“Riiiiight.” He sighed. “Well, it’s all on you still. You gotta get past that middle layer.”
“And I think I’m almost through.”
He paused to think, “So…if the agent hasn’t been triggered…”
“You’re a fast learner!” she said. “That’s right! A false alarm means the second layer isn’t on high alert!”
“And so…” he ventured, “…you think the third layer is gonna act the same way?”
“I’m hoping I can sit right there just inside the third layer, actually.”
“But wait,” he began, “how are you going to connect with your racer?”
“I’m gonna make it think I’m an advertisement.”
He squinted, “You’re serious.”
“Already got the sensorium mask in place.” She said. “Just waiting till I get to that third layer.”
“I hope you don’t hold it against me for asking how you’re managing to do that.” He chuckled.
“I’m only going to tell you because we’re partners for this gig.”
“How noble of you.” He said, grinning.
She giggled. “Well, it’s kind of like a dance.”
“A dance.” He echoed, waiting for her to explain.
“I picture the defenses as a set of bracelets.” She explained. “Or like rotating gears with teeth. There are gaps or little extensions on each one.”
“Like teeth?” he offered.
“Yeah! Like teeth!” she said, “So there are combinations depending on where they are next to one another while the gears or bracelets turn. But I figured out they have a rhythm. Something you could actually dance to! So, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Uh huh.” He said. Then after a pause, he asked, “That mean you can dance in real life or are you limited to digital?”
“Heh. It might be fun for you to find out one day.”
He laughed back, “Yeah right. Chances are, we’ll never hear from each other again after this.”
“True.” She said, “So, in light of that, why don’t I paint a picture for you.”
“A picture?”
“Of me dancing.”
He smiled, “Oh yeah? How are you gonna do that?”
“By sending you the feed in real time.” She answered.
His eyebrows went up again, “Wait. For real?”
“You got your goggles on?” she asked.
He looked down and slipped his hand inside his coat. “Might as well put them on now, huh?”
“Gotta be ready to verify the data, right?”
For this job, he packed his smaller goggles. They were basically two lenses embedded into separate carbon fiber sockets attached to a thin rubber strap. He stretched it just enough to slip the sockets over his eyes and then tapped the unseen button on the side of the left one. His momentary blindness was replaced by a dim green screen. He chose this setting so it would be pleasant on his eyes. The readout scrawling in the middle was moving so fast he couldn’t read it, but he knew all that was happening was a connection was being made with the sockets and his deck. Once that was established, the menu for his deck’s OS was laid out before his eyes: icons and labels he custom made and arranged for his convenience.
“Okay.” He said. “I’m ready. Guess this will be our test run for the route.”
“Indeed.” She said. “I’m sending the feed now. Just look for my icon to pop up.”
“Your icon, huh?” he snickered lightly.
The folder that held the software working his connection through the hub was already highlighted. It flashed, and he heard a ding from his earpiece. Tapping the outside of the left lens where the folder sat on the green screen, it opened and spread rows upon rows of files across his vision. There at the top left corner, he saw a depiction of an anime girl’s head with cat ears. Snorting through his nose, he reached up to tap his lens again and asked, “Guess I should attach it to the video streamer, huh?”
“You’re a good guesser.”
Pressing his finger to the outside of the lens, the catgirl icon was highlighted. He moved his finger across the lens, placing the icon over the one for his streaming program. Pulling his finger away, the catgirl icon disappeared. The streaming player opened to spread across his vision. At first, all he saw was the menu bar at the bottom. A second later, the black screen flashed, and he jerked back, placing a hand along the rooftop to brace himself.
He wasn’t looking at a set of rings like she described. There were multiple lines stretching horizontally across the screen. They were designated from one another by different colors, and they were moving to the left. Not all at once. He didn’t bother trying to count how many lines there were, but if he had to guess, there were over fifteen. The only way he could tell they were moving was by watching the gaps between them shifting to the left.
These were the spaces between the teeth. All of varying sizes. They would move several paces and then stop while others moved. It was so much to keep up with, but he watched her do it. There she was in the very center of the screen. A transparent outline of a girl with cat ears and even a tail. To make herself contrast against the collage of colors moving behind her, she was a pale white shade. The only details he was given of her were the contours of her figure. The face of the icon he saw before wasn’t there. He wasn’t even given simple facial features.
There was no time for that anyway. She was moving. Back and forth. Side to side. Her hips kept a steady tempo that he was surprised to find out was in perfect step with the moving lines.
“So, you figured it out.” He whispered a gasp.
“Look at me go!” she cheered.
Not only were her hips moving, but her feet would lift from the bottom of the screen and stomp back down, landing inside one of the gaps. From there, she would hop to the other side of the screen, her arm stretching out so she could latch onto a gap along one of the upper lines. She would pause sometimes, but her hips never stopped moving. Never lost the beat.
He watched this, trying to find a pattern. When he thought he did, he voiced his findings.
“So, you’re…the gaps you’re accessing, they’re all the same size. In every line. What’s up? The others are no good?”
“Not one gap is the same size in all the lines,” she explained, “except for the ones I go for.”
“Huh! How long did it take you to figure that out?”
“You really wanna know?” she asked.
He slumped, “Eh, not really. But, wow, just this feed alone, do you realize how much you could sell this for?”
“I might consider it.” she said, her figure hopping to the right side of the screen to place her foot into one of the specific gaps.
He noticed, too, that she was going for those gaps right as the lines were about to stop. Thus, her tempo.
“You’re totally recording this.”
“Totally,” She said, “but the big fish is why we’re here.”
“Right.”
“Besides,” she continued, “even if this layer looks complicated, in the end, it’s just formatted like an old-fashioned combination lock. Instead of rolling the right numbers in place or having the right key, I’m just passing through the right holes when they line up just right.”
“They line up when they stop, don’t they?” he asked.
“That’s it!” she cheered.
He snickered, “And I bet you’re not even working up a sweat.”
“Nah,” she said, “just sick of hanging up-side-down.”
“Don’t want to risk righting yourself?” he asked.
“Can’t.” she said. “Too focused on this.”
Understandable, he thought. At the same time, he figured she was just as distracted by the visuals as he was. For him, at least, it was entertaining.
“Wonder how long the combination is.” He muttered.
“I can see the end.” She said.
“Really?!”
“In the meantime,” she continued, “have your deck space open. Once I’m on the third layer, it’ll only be a few moments until I’m connected to Sir Splatter.”
He started tapping the outside of the left lens again when he asked, “So, you must’ve done some actual recon while watching the races.”
“Had to.” She said. “Nothing replaces actually being there, but for those of us who can only pay for bottom tier tickets, we get what we can see from where we’re sitting. Those top tier tickets…”
“So, you found a way to hack into those first-person feeds.” He said.
“This will be my first time seeing the race through the eyes of Sir Splatter himself!” she squealed.
“And you want to share the experience with others.” He chuckled.
“For a price, yeah!” she laughed. “Okay! Only two more gaps! You ready?”
“Ready on my end.”
“I bet once you see the feed yourself, you’ll become a fan.” She offered.
“Heh. I’ll admit.” He said. “It’ll feel high class.”
“Ha!” she barked.
The number of lines hadn’t changed on the screen, and they were still moving to the left. Her hips were still bouncing from side to side. She leaped from the left side of the screen to place her foot in one of the gaps along a lower line. A beat later, she stretched her body and reached upward to touch a gap sliding into place right above her head. With both extremities in place, her figure flashed and then faded away. All the lines paused and then swept out of view.
What replaced them was a moving puzzle of ads.
Bots boasting of their product. Taglines from several brands. Recorded commercial segments. Flashing icons wanting someone to click them. Posters of rock bands. Contests to win tickets to the next race. Then there was an animation of a familiar catgirl icon.
“You see me?” she asked.
The icon looped a quick segment of the catgirl’s ears twitching out and in while her nose moved upward and back down. At the same time, her eyes squinted and then relaxed. Yet, when his contact spoke, he saw the catgirl’s mouth move.
Grinning, he answered, “Yeah. I see you. What does MuttofDeeta mean? That’s not your actual handle, is it? I thought you were a cat.”
“No way!” she laughed. “It’s just gibberish.”
“Gotcha.” he chuckled. “Figured you wouldn’t give yourself away like that, but I had to make sure.”
“Naturally.” She responded. “Just pretend I’m promoting dog food.”
“Sure.” He snickered.
“Okay! Eeeeee! Are you ready?” she squealed.
He chuckled again. “Already told you I was. The question is, are you? Think you’ll be able to stop yourself from fangirling once you tap into the feed?”
“Gotta be honest!” she answered, “I might not be able to control myself! If you hear a lot of squealing, that’s definitely all me!”
“And not the crowd.” He said. “I gotcha.” Then he paused before asking, “One thing: you’ve heard the rumors, right?”
“About what?” she asked, her voice still energized.
“About how people have gotten this far before,” he began, “but as soon as they try to connect, they get trapped in a whole other feed. It’s twofold. Not a numbing agent like the first layer. It’s a stimulant plus a visual feed to basically wrap your mind up until your physical location is pinpointed.”
“Oh I’ve heard.” She said.
He waited a moment, and then asked, “And you’re confident you’ll succeed.”
“Very confident.” She said. “Just you watch. Like you mentioned before: I did some recon.”
He started to object, “Just one time isn’t…”
“Every time I went.” She stopped him. “I didn’t miss a chance. I know how to do this.”
He slouched and let a smile settle over his face, “Well. It’s good you’re giving me the real-time feed. This I gotta see.”
“Just make sure you’re ready.” She said, “I’ll start sending it just as I’m receiving it.”
“Roger that.” He said. “Has the race already started?”
“It just started.”
He didn’t see any of it, yet, of course. He might have heard a roar of the crowd from this distance, or that could be some combination of a few of the many automations moving throughout this district. What he had now was a sea of ads floating against each other, hardly having any room to go anywhere. Yet, her mock-up was moving through them, like a sheet of paper slipping between spaces nothing else could. He watched her, sometimes behind a group of the ads, sometimes in the forefront, not going in a straight line but zigzagging her way. Almost like she was having to choose her route carefully. Perhaps the layers meant something. Something like a cue. Those in the background were basically first in line while those in the forefront were last. He had to remind himself that he was looking at the outer surface of the third layer. Going deeper meant reaching the bottom. On the other side was the cube’s interior.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“You could tell, huh?” she said.
“Kind of.”
“This collection of ads is a database.” She explained. “You might not see them, I mean, the boundaries aren’t exactly blatant, but these are actually segregated into groups.”
He snorted, “Nope. Can’t see them.”
“It’s part of the security.” She said, her icon slowing down. “But the ads are grouped together based on which terminal they’ll be sent to.”
“You mean to which racer. Their live feed.”
“Exactly.” She said. “And I just found the group designated for Sir Splatter’s terminal!”
He was glad she could, because all he saw was her icon stopping at a random point among the layers of ads. His attention was jerked back to the left when he thought he saw some other movement, but when he focused on where it should have taken place, he saw nothing but ads.
“Ah!” she gasped. “They’re already starting!”
“What is?” he asked, and then noticed more movement. This time, however, there were several places he witnessed change. “Wait. The ads. They’re…”
“You don’t see them anymore, right?” she asked.
“You mean ones that were there have disappeared.” He said, wanting to make sure. “They’re being sent to the terminals.”
“That’s right!” she cheered. “And I’m about to piggyback on one of them.”
He smirked, “That how you’re going to connect to the terminal?”
“You all set to record?” she asked. “We won’t want to miss any of it! We’ve already missed several minutes of the race already!”
“Good thing they waste no time in displaying the ads early on.” He snickered.
“Lucky for us!” she cheered.
His focus locked on her icon, a portion of it transparent because she had merged into one of the ads, he asked, “One last time. You know about the attack barrier you could trigger if you slip up, right? The web was one thing, but this far in, you don’t…”
“Oh!” she gasped, stopping him. “I’m going in! For real, this is happening!”
His eyes never left her icon, so he saw the moment it and the ad she was attached to shrank into nothing. Then the sea of ads rushed at him, disappearing, and he was seeing a black screen.
“Hey.” He said. “You there?” Her squeal had cut off when his visuals changed.
They were still changing. Splotches of faded colors stumbled across the black, along with hints at audio frequencies. His deck was already open. The connection she threw out to him was secured. He was already recording.
More glitching graphics. Sputtering audio. And then he was heading into a sharp turn, steel barbs pointing inward from a concrete wall curving to the right. Something slid in from his peripheral on the left. A person or…machine…or perhaps that was just a lot of armor. Whatever it was, it was mangled now and tumbling along a sleek film below. The foundation rushing underneath the visuals glistened with the help from several light sources above, but that didn’t matter, because that mangled body was crashing into all of those barbs, exploding into more pieces. The perspective turned more to the right to peer down the next stretch which was walled on either side by tall barricades. At their tops were security wiring angled inward, aiming to keep those below from getting out.
The audio, surprisingly, was late to catch up, but as soon as it did, he flinched from the crashing metal, the whine of rubber against Teflon, the roar of a crowd, and the huffing and panting of someone close.
Very close.
The perspective jerked further to the right, marking some mechanical monstrosity so close its upper portions were out of frame. Before he could register much of its makeup, the perspective dashed to the left, marking a smaller framework of arms and legs, a head, and he figured that curved apparatus in the middle of it all was a torso of some sort. The head, a disk-shaped thing with what might have been a large protruding jaw, turned to look at him. The panting voice expelled a winded chuckle, and then looked ahead.
“I did it!” came a familiar voice. “I’m in! I’m totally in! Sir Splatter up close and personal like nothing else!” She was laughing now. “You’re totally getting this, right? Tell me you’re getting this!”
He sighed, “Oh, I’m getting it.”
She might have heard him, but she was too busy squealing and gasping at what she was seeing…and feeling.
“Are you?” he asked, but she didn’t respond. So he listened for a few more seconds, confirming her gasps and exhalations were actually matching the rhythm of the feed. “I guess that means you are.”
Reaching up, he pulled the goggles off. Not like he actually needed them. The feed was blank on his end. “So, I’m guessing you found her the moment she connected her live feed, huh?”
A feminine chuckle came through his earpiece. “Yeah. Wasn’t a problem at all.”
“Cool.” He said, leaning back and placing both his hands along the rooftop to brace himself. Tilting his head at an upward angle, he continued, “Confirming on my end she’s trapped. Got her in an autonomous lock feed. Broadcasting from my deck.”
“Oh, I know. I’m seeing it right now, actually.”
“Psh. Not like you really have to confirm it, Shell.” He scoffed.
“True. I’ve seen it before, just not with her mixed in.”
He lowered his head and shook it, “Really? You can stomach that?”
“Why should you be embarrassed? She’s having a good time.”
He leveled his gaze, squinting at what she just said.
Since he didn’t respond, she continued in a playful tone, “You’re thinking of recruiting her, aren’t you? Why else would you have your face on the guy’s body? Very clever.”
“Ug.” He groaned, letting his chin drop to his chest.
“It’s all about how someone makes you feel, right? Even after she finds out it’s not real, she’s gonna remember that face. So, you lied about never meeting her again after this so-called gig.”
He brought his knees up, leaned forward and rested his forearms across them. “Kind of figured you’d want some revenge, too. After all, she got through your first two barrier mazes. How many hackers have you heard of that have been able to see the combination sequence of the second layer? The only time she had to figure it out was when she reached it. Plus, she figured out she could piggyback from the third layer into any of the terminals. Had to have put things together after her recon from inside the cube. All those rumors, too. That’s how she found out about the ads popping up in the lower lefthand corner of the feeds.”
“Okay, fine. But I’m not jealous about that.”
“What?”
She chuckled, “You know full well I’ve had to look at your attack barriers just so I could match its lines to the system.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said.
“You ignored the first part of what I said.” Shell scolded.
“Huh? What part?”
“About me getting jealous.”
“Um…”
She cut him off, “I didn’t watch your generic feed, you know. That one’s plugged straight into the cube. But don’t think you can hide your autonomous versions from me.”
Uh oh, he thought.
Shell laughed, “Yeah, you’re not the only one who has it. If I wanted to, I could alter the program right now. It wouldn’t be your face she would see.”
“I uh…” he tried again, but she cut him off once more.
“She’s made it to the part where she’s looking back at you while she’s grabbing onto your wrist. I think it’s cute how she has to follow along with your script. She won’t be embarrassed until after it’s over. Your generic attacks are for those you want to put away, but this one…admit it. You’re gonna recruit her.”
He sighed, “I’ve still got some questions for her.”
“And I bet with the lingering effects on her senses,” Shell said, “and the residue of the feed acting like a personal memory? She’d be willing to cooperate.”
“Either that or I let the feed go viral.” He said. “She’ll only have the embarrassment in her hacker communities to deal with. It’ll be harder for her to get another job for a while. Her only real option is to work for me now.”
“You thinking I might blackmail you the same way?” Shell asked.
“Psh! Please.” He chuckled, “Like the rest of the staff would actually care what’s on the feed.”
“I’m not so sure.” Shell warned playfully, “After all. I was interested.”
He huffed, “Yeah, you totally sound like you’re trying to blackmail me.”
“Ooooh, don’t be like that.” She cooed. “I only have a copy, and it’s not like I’m gonna share it with anybody else. It’s aaaaall mine.”
“Gonna wipe her memory then?”
“Hmmmm.” Shell hummed, “Maybe after you recruit her.”
“Not sure you’d be doing me a favor there.” He said, getting to his feet. “I need her to stay compliant.”
Shell laughed, “Well, our guys are on location. They’re pulling her up from the side of a building now.”
“How close is she?” he asked.
“To you or the cube?” Shell asked.
“The cube.” He said.
“Sector SU.” Shell answered.
“The stacks?” he asked.
“Yep.” Shell said. “They got the van below.”
“Roger that.” He said. “I’m heading back to the cube, then.”
Tobey Truestory is a speculative fantasy and sci fi storyteller. Always writing. Can’t stop writing. Lover of manga and anime. Always listening to electronic music because it keeps him daydreaming.