Cyber Dreams 4.23 - Killing Time

Hope you enjoy the words that I have gathered together on this page.

Have a good day :)

-Plum

“Hey, Nick.” Juliet studied his face in the call window; he looked tired. His skin wasn’t exactly smooth during a good day, and now he had dark circles under his eyes and a heavy layer of salt and pepper stubble. Had he looked that rough at breakfast? Juliet probably hadn’t noticed, considering she’d been dealing with her own hangover.

“Sorry to bug you, but you insisted I call when I heard from that Larry character.”

“He wants to meet?” Juliet hurried out of the warehouse, letting the door slam shut behind her. Angel was still monitoring the cameras, and she knew exactly what Frida and her team were up to, so she didn’t feel nervous about walking out the open gate and straight toward her abandoned e-bike.

“Yeah, his client’s eager to get the ball rolling. Look, I don’t want to get you wrapped up in all this. He thinks the whole thing will take a week or two, tops, so if you just want to have a nice little vacation, I’ll be happy to let you fly the Lady some more when I get back. We can get you a few more flight missions under your belt, and I’ll write you a good report to Alice . . .”

“No, no, Nick. Let me sit in on this meeting with Larry. I’m good at reading people, and I might be able to squeeze some details out of him. Might be, you don’t want to do this job, you feel?”

“Starting to feel less and less like a choice. Ray’s desperate, and, well, I could use the bits.”

Juliet sighed heavily and said, “Just let me come to the meeting. No amount of bits are worth dying for, right?”

“Yeah, right. Okay. We’re meeting at a restaurant near the port, Haskin’s Farm to Table. Eight o’clock, ‘kay?”

“See you then.” Juliet hopped on the bike, and by the time she’d started rolling out into the street, Nick had cut the connection. “What are Frida and her team doing?”

“Frida pulled her PAI, but she contacted Applebaum first. She’s heading to their rendezvous, and Hawkins is out buying her a new PAI. For what it’s worth, if she keeps the level of connectivity with her team that she had before, I’ll be able to gain control of her new PAI as well.”

“Nice, Angel!” Juliet concentrated on driving the e-bike for a while, but her mind started wandering down strange paths. “What’s it like?”

“What?”

“Being connected to their PAIs. I mean, I know you can connect to wireless networks and cameras and all that, but those PAIs are kind of like . . . intelligent, right? Do you talk to them?”

“They’re like computer programs, Juliet. I don’t ‘speak’ to them in the way I would to you or another person. I isolate their code, send commands, and watch them carry them out. It’s nothing like speaking to another me if that’s what you’re wondering. The difference is stark.”

“I was kind of wondering that, yeah. I’m sorry; that was stupid. I know you’re not like other PAIs.”

“It’s not stupid to wonder. I wonder what it would be like to meet a true AI.”

“Like you.” Juliet wasn’t asking. Angel was definitely an AI; they’d established as much. Still, being reminded of it was a bit of an eye-opener. “Well, changing the subject, do you know where this restaurant is?”

“Yes. It’s not far from your hotel.”

“Perfect. Hey, since Frida pulled her PAI, why don’t you send her team an anonymous address so she can get back to me after she’s spoken to Tanaka? I mean, hopefully, you’ll be able to record her conversation with him, but she doesn’t know that.”

“Done.”

Juliet had a few hours to kill, but she didn’t feel like doing anything much. She rode the e-bike back into town, taking a roundabout route to her hotel, and then she went up to her room and sat down at the foot of her bed. She stared at herself in the mirror above her dresser and, without thinking, drew her Texan and replaced the spent cartridge with a fresh one. She hadn’t had a chance to process what she’d learned from Frida, but sitting there, her mind began to drift toward the core-shaking memories she’d buried.

She saw Lemur’s head sliding off his body and rolling over the hard, clean floor. She saw a black-gloved hand holding open elevator doors, and then she saw his face, Rutger Tanaka, with his short, dark hair, chromed eyes, and tattoos—so many strange, colorful tattoos. Who was the woman who’d earned a spot on his flesh? What did the tears signify? What did the kanji say? She knew she could get some of the answers to her unspoken questions. She could ask Angel to dig the memory out of the cloud. Angel could probably figure out a lot with some poking around on the nets; heck, she probably already had, knowing her. For the second time in a single day, though, Juliet chickened out. She didn’t want to see that memory again, and she didn’t want to know any more about Tanaka, not at that moment. She needed more time to process.

To pass the time and to get her mind off disturbing memories and worries about her future, Juliet practiced moving small objects around with her mind. It was the perfect distraction, really, considering how much concentration it took. She’d spent an hour here and there working with the ability during her downtime between flights with Nick but hadn’t noticed much of an improvement. She couldn’t lift cars or toss people around like superhuman vid stars. Angel had a different take, though, encouraging her by pointing out that her time between initial concentration and object movement had decreased significantly.

Juliet had been evaluating herself based on how much she could move and how far, but when Angel pointed out how much more quickly she was accessing the ability, she had to admit she had a point. It was almost effortless for her now to slide a glass over a table or flick a bullet off the dresser and pull it into her hand. She barely had to think about it before she could make it happen. So, while her mental “muscle,” or whatever, wasn’t much stronger, she was definitely more adept at what she could move with it.

After she’d emptied a box of needler rounds, yanking them one by one off the dresser and into her hand, she had an idea and asked Angel, “I kind of remember seeing a vid of a guy throwing playing cards so fast that he could, like, slice fruit with them and stuff. Can you try to find it?”

“Are you planning to try to turn your telekinesis into a weapon by flinging playing cards at people?”

Juliet snorted. “Well, not exactly, but it seems like it might be a good inspiration. I can’t lift anything heavy, but I’m getting better at moving around small things. Maybe I could, I don’t know, get some tiny knives or something.” So, Angel found her the video and about a dozen others, and Juliet spent a couple of hours getting inspired by people with incredibly talented hands and impressive hand-eye coordination.

She was trying to use her telekinesis to fling her vibroblade into the chipped, scratched, and generally beat-up particle board dresser drawers, aiming for the spot between the shiny aluminum knobs when Angel interrupted her concentration. “If you’re going to walk to the meeting, you should leave soon.”

“Wow! Already?” Juliet stood and snatched her knife from the poor, brutalized piece of furniture. “I’ll pay for that,” she said, more to herself than Angel.

“That piece of furniture should have been recycled years ago.”

“Yeah.” Juliet chuckled, sliding her arms into the silky sleeves of her jacket. “I guess we’re just doing a service for the next guests to use this room. At least it proves one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The hotel AI wasn’t lying when it said it was giving us privacy. I’m sure the manager would have found an excuse to come in otherwise.”

“True, unless she’d been hoping you’d do more damage, and she could charge you for even more, already necessary, repairs.”

“Uh, sheesh. I guess I don’t think like a sleazy hotel manager, do I?” Juliet briskly pounded down the concrete steps outside her room, her boots making satisfying clomps as she descended.

“You’re saying you feel Mrs. Rachel is sleazy?”

“Not many women could pull off slicked back, greasy hair, but she does it. I gotta hand it to her.” Juliet laughed at the image, picturing the little hotel manager as she’d last seen her. “It’s not the look that does it, though; it’s the way she walks around peering into the windows and staring at any guest she doesn’t think is watching.”

“She’s certainly voyeuristic, now that you mention it.” There was a bit of a laugh in Angel’s voice, and Juliet wondered at that. Angel claimed to feel things all the time, not least of which being love for Juliet. Did she really find things amusing in the same way that a person would? Despite her protestations to the contrary, Juliet had to admit that she really didn’t understand Angel or how she worked. She’d insisted that Angel was alive, but how did that even work? Didn’t humor or love have a lot to do with chemicals affecting the brain? Did Angel use her connection to Juliet’s brain to feel things? Juliet couldn’t wrap her head around it, and she supposed that was normal; she couldn’t explain how her own brain worked, so why should she understand how Angel’s did?

The sidewalks were busy near the ports, and she found herself shoulder to shoulder with people and stymied by slower-moving crowds as she tried to walk at her usual brisk pace. Subconsciously, she made a game out of trying to move around people and not lose any time. She sped up when her path was clear and picked people to shrug past who wouldn’t put up a fuss—women with their hands in their pockets, men with relaxed gaits, and, generally, smaller people. Soon, she was deep in the port district, and her mini map told her she was just a block from the restaurant.

“Is Nick there?”

“I’m receiving location pings from his PAI, yes. He’s in the restaurant.”

“Good.” Juliet slowed down a bit and settled her nerves, getting her breathing nice and relaxed. The restaurant wasn’t large, and the front opened onto the sidewalk to provide outdoor seating. While it wasn’t large, it was crowded, and Juliet realized some of the mouth-watering odors she’d been picking up for the last couple of blocks were coming from within. She smelled the unmistakable aroma of grilled meats, spicy sauces, and something else, like rosemary or some other potent herb infused in oil and being used to sauté vegetables.

“Lucky!” Nick waved from one of the bay openings into the restaurant, and Juliet smiled and waved back, pushing her way between some bistro tables to get in.

“Excuse me,” she said as she wedged herself between two people sitting back-to-back at different tables. “Hey there.” She laughed at Nick’s exuberant greeting as he took hold of her arm and escorted her the last few feet to the table he’d claimed. It was a four-seater, and it was apparent he was all alone and had been there a while—three empty beers sat next to a little plate littered with bread crusts.

“I’m glad you’re here! The hostess has been giving me dirty looks. I’m not sure they like me taking up a table all by myself.”

“Well, tough!” Juliet sat down to his right, putting her back to the wall. “Where’s your guy?”

“My guy? You mean Larry? He’s supposed to be here any minute.”

“Listen, Nick, I’m just gonna sit here and listen for a while, don’t mind me. Just do some negotiating with him, but do me a favor and ask him blunt questions. Like, ask him if he’s sure this isn’t some kind of setup. Ask him if he’s holding the funds in escrow or if you’re going to be at the mercy of this mysterious client when it comes time to get paid. If he tries to give wishy-washy answers, I want you to press him and make him commit. I’m really good at spotting a liar, but I need you to ask the right questions, all right?”

“Well, shit, you know I’m not some novice, right? I think I’ve got ten years or so on you . . .”

Juliet laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Ten?”

“All right, all right, maybe more like fifteen?”

“Sure, Nick, we’ll go with that.” She glanced at his empty beers thirstily, then shook her head. “Anyway, I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing, but I’ve got something of a talent for this, okay? Trust me.” She cleared her throat and said, “Angel, order me a . . . lemonade.”

“You’re not drinking?” It was Nick’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Not after last night. I need to let that experience recede from recent memory first.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I mean, you drank at breakfast, but whatever.” He winked at her, and Juliet laughed; he had a point. She leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the smells coming from the kitchen. After a minute or two, during which Nick took several drinks from his beer, she said, “Let’s order some food when you’re done talking to Larry.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Nick jerked his head to the left, looking at the sidewalk, then stood up and waved an arm. “Here we are!” He turned back to Juliet. “Just got a ping from him.” Juliet watched the sidewalk and finally spotted Larry, walking toward the restaurant between two very large, very chromed-out meatheads wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Did he have muscle with him last night?”

“If he did, they weren’t near the table. Maybe they watched from a distance.” Nick shrugged and waved again, getting Larry’s attention. The fixer nodded to his bodyguards, and they both moved to different areas of the sidewalk, taking up positions where they could watch Larry and the crowds at the same time.

“Did you notice those guys last night?” Juliet subvocalized.

“I was just running through the footage I saved, and they are present in the crowd.”

“Well,” Juliet said, watching Larry make his way to their table, “that adds another dimension to his character.”

“Huh?” Nick glanced at her.

“The muscle.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nick pointed to an empty seat. “Hey, Larry. Got here a little early.”

“Great, great!” Larry smiled at Nick, then looked at Juliet and nodded. “Pleasure to see you again, miss. Is your presence a signal that you’ve thought about perhaps joining your friend on my little operation?”

Juliet shrugged. “I’ll see what you have to say. You mind if I turn on a jammer? I hate to have the wrong people hear about what you want Nick to do. You know what I mean?”

“Oh, not to worry.” Larry chuckled, tapping one of his long, golden digits on his temple. “I have one built in. I won’t let our words travel beyond the table.”

“Angel, did you notice that last night?” Juliet subvocalized while she smiled to save face. “I didn’t realize that, Larry. Were you running it last night?”

“No. The booths at the Raptor Haus are already shielded . . .”

Angel added, “I was about to say the same thing, Juliet. The booths allowed music in, but didn’t you notice you couldn’t understand any conversations taking place around the table?”

“I think I had too much to drink last night,” Juliet laughed. She was saved from the topic by a waiter appearing with her lemonade and what looked like a very nicely made mojito, complete with fresh, muddled mint leaves. After he gave her the lemonade, he handed the mojito to Larry, and Juliet had to admit he was damn good at timing his drinks to arrive at the same time he did.

“I appreciate you meeting me here, Nick. This is my neck of the woods, the ports.”

“That right?” Nick raised an eyebrow and nodded as though Larry had just revealed some truly interesting news. Juliet watched him for a moment, then turned to Larry and, rather than dive in right away, trying to read his thoughts, she took a sip of her lemonade and listened.

“Have you made any kind of decision, Nick? I’ve got a couple of other irons in the fire, so to speak, so if you aren’t interested, there’s no reason we should keep wasting each other’s time.”

“Oh, BS. C’mon, Mr. Fine.” Nick shook his head and sniffed, chugging the second half of his beer. Suddenly, Juliet wasn’t sure letting Nick do all the talking was going to be as smooth as she’d thought. “You wouldn’t be coming out to clubs with a guy like Ray looking to recruit a guy like me if you had other options lined up.”

Larry sipped his drink, the corners of his mouth turning down as though he was going to disagree with Nick, but his head began to bob as he swallowed, nodding along. “Fair enough. So? What can I tell you to seal this deal?” While he spoke, Juliet studied his face, and she knew if she just reached out a little bit, she’d be in. She’d be listening to Larry’s thoughts. She hesitated at first, and she caught herself doing so. That realization or self-awareness caught her off guard, and Juliet started thinking about how she’d shied away from digging into Frida’s deeper thoughts and about how she’d hidden from even her own memories, avoiding thinking too much about Rutger Tanaka.

As Larry and Nick continued to banter lightly, dancing around the subject of Nick taking the job on offer, Juliet found herself doing battle with herself. One part of her wanted to listen for a while and then maybe focus on Larry and pick up some surface thoughts to see if he was lying. Another part of her wanted just to dive in, to really go deep on Larry almost to spite herself, to spit in the face of the hesitation, no, fear, that she was feeling. Her internal struggle went on for several moments, and her mind raced down so many “what if” scenarios that she honestly couldn’t have repeated a single word that Nick and Larry were saying, so little did she pay attention.

After a time, when she noticed her lemonade was almost empty and she didn’t have a clue what Larry and Nick had been talking about, she decided enough was enough. Juliet narrowed her eyes and turned to regard Larry in one of his fancy ocular implants. They were a high-end cosmetic job that made his irises look almost three-dimensional, a faintly rose-colored layer overlaying the deeper, golden bands. She stared into that eye, and, with a deep, slow exhalation, she let go of the tethers she’d been using to pin down her mind. She drifted free, slipping through those lovely portals into Larry’s deeper memories, into his very soul.