Cyber Dreams 2.5 - A Grave Offer

Here we go, folks! Setting up the next arc; hope you enjoy it.

-Plum

“Any payment show up yet?” Juliet asked Angel, adjusting the icepack on her swollen ankle; she’d resisted a little too much when her partner at practice had been practicing leg sweeps. She suspected it was an accident but couldn’t be sure when it came to Charity. Thinking of Charity, she started to ask Angel to do some research on the “competitions” she’d mentioned again that morning, but Angel was already responding to her first question.

“I do see a pending transfer of eighteen thousand Sol-bits.”

“Finally! I was starting to think Temo stiffed me.” It had been three days since the carpet cleaning job, and Temo kept putting off her payment, saying he was waiting on the client’s transfer to clear.

“What about my rating?” She knew the question would please Angel, and the PAI was quick to display her operator card on her AUI:

“Woah! The team really came through for me, didn’t they? Negotiation and conflict avoidance?”

“Yes, it seems Motor approved of your handling of Mr. Boze and passed along your performance details to the client. You’re also officially in the E rating bracket now, and look at your network security bypass rating.”

“A solid D.” Juliet smiled. “Can’t complain about that.”

“You just received a message from Temo; it’s short. ‘Juliet, we got paid, and I have big news for you. Call me when you get a few minutes.’” Angel paused for a moment, then asked, “Would you like me to contact Temo?”

“Not right now. I’m not feeling ready for ‘big news.’” Juliet stood, sliding her aluminum lawn chair back on the little concrete pad, and then hobbled over, opened the door, and climbed into her trailer. She was still sticky with sweat and needed to shower and wash her gi. “Ugh, does Charity need to go so damn hard all the time?”

Angel knew better than to answer a question like that, and Juliet sighed, limping around the trailer, doing some laundry in the mini combo washer-dryer that’d probably seen thousands of loads of dirty clothes and linens in its twenty-year existence. After that, she stood in her shower and let the hot water pound noisily against the top of her head, falling like a curtain over her face. Ten minutes in, she slumped down and sat in the plastic enclosure, sighing as the water continued to fall on her like hot rain, and she practiced her breathing exercises.

She felt a lot more like herself when she’d finally clambered out of the shower and dried off, slipping into some clean, comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. She’d been going hard and knew if Ghoul were still around, she’d warn her about burning out. Juliet wasn’t worried about that, though—she still found everything she was doing in her new life quite entertaining, and the progress she was making at the dojo made all that hard work feel worthwhile.

She knew if she ran into her old self, the Juliet who ate junk food, worked long hours at the scrap yard, and couldn’t bear to think about her life past the next weekend, she wouldn’t recognize herself. Despite everything—the near-death experiences, the terrifying things she’d had to do, the people still hunting for her—she was glad she’d been the one to find Godric near death there in the scrapyard, glad he’d given her Angel.

She cooked one of her new, mail-order, frozen meals. Her little freezer was full of them, and they’d have been an impossibly exorbitant expense in her old life, but they hardly made a dent in her new income. Angel had been the one to suggest the new meals—organic vegetables, single-source proteins, healthy fats, and guaranteed no preservatives or weird additives.

Angel had told her some truly horrifying stories about the things corps were putting into the engineered grains and processed foods they made readily available and affordable—everything, from hormone suppressants to decrease birth rates to additives that damaged a person’s gut, leading to auto-immune disorders.

Angel claimed there were people on the “shadow net” who claimed the corpos wanted their people sick but manageable with pharmaceuticals. It sounded like a crazy conspiracy, but Juliet had learned to trust Angel, and she definitely didn’t trust the corpos. As she took the steaming meal out of the toaster oven—the company recommended not microwaving—she said, “Here go sixty bits down the gullet.”

“Your body thanks you, Juliet,” Angel said, a variation on her usual response to Juliet's frequent comments about the meals’ cost.

“Okay, call Temo. He can watch me eat while he spins his tale about his wondrous news.” She had a hard time believing whatever Temo found exciting would be exciting to her. “What’s my balance, by the way, including the eighteen k?”

“You have 85,390 Sol-bits. I’m connecting you to Temo.”

A window appeared in Juliet’s AUI, and after only one *beep*, Temo’s face popped into view. He really did look excited, eyes wide and bright, smile already in place, leaning forward like he wanted to crawl through the connection. “Juliet!”

“Hey, Temo.” Juliet stuffed a forkfull of buttery broccoli into her mouth and chewed while she listened to his excited response.

“You won’t believe this! The client, the ones you did the carpet job for? They were very impressed with your performance and asked for you, by operator ID number, for a much bigger, long-term operation. We’re talking a month or more, and it’ll net you more than a hundred k before bonuses!”

Juliet’s eyes widened at the news, and she worked on chewing and swallowing her food, letting the information sink in, mulling it over as she sipped at her protein smoothie. Temo stared at her, obviously aware that she was eating and struggling to remain calm while he waited for her response. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Sorry about that. Um, that sounds interesting, but I could do a lot of jobs in a month. Is a hundred k really so great for such a time investment?”

“Oh, Juliet, that’s the base commitment! There’s language in the contract that allows for bonuses up to two or three times that amount depending on your success. Don’t you want to hear what it’s all about?”

“Well, three hundred k sounds a lot more exciting,” Juliet said, perking up. “Yeah, let’s hear the details.”

“I don’t have the actual details,” Temo said, grinning and holding up a hand to forestall any sort of outburst, “I mean, I have some broad strokes; they didn’t want to share everything until you’d agreed, signed an NDA and met with their agent in person.”

Juliet nodded and sniffed, loading her fork with another bite, “Okay, I’m listening. Give me the broad strokes.”

“So, they need a talented operator, but not one who’s well-known. There’s a corporation in the Phoenix area that’s going to be recruiting for a new program, something the client is very interested in. They want you to get hired by the corp, go through their training, and spend some time learning everything you can about the program. You’ll get twenty-five k up front, even if you fail to get recruited. If you succeed, you’re guaranteed the other seventy-five k, so long as you don’t get washed out. You’ll get bonus percentages for each successful intelligence report you deposit at a secure drop.”

Juliet swallowed her bite and asked, “That sounds very risky. First of all, I’m not signing anything until I know what corp we’re talking about. What kind of ‘program?’”

“I don’t know much more, Juliet, but I can ask the client for a few more details if you’re interested. They probably won’t give me much, but they were very interested in you. Motor wrote up a hell of a glowing report about how you handled that corpo exec, not to mention how you ripped through their security to handle the cameras and the data retrieval.”

“I won’t lie, Temo,” Juliet said, unable to stop the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “this sounds interesting, but I need to know more—the name of the corp at a minimum—before I’m willing to meet with the client’s agent.”

“Seriously? What do you care? All these corps are the same, aren’t they?”

“I’ve got no love for any of ‘em, that’s true, Temo, but there are some corps that I won’t mess with. That’s all there is to it.” Juliet shoved her tray away from herself, gave Temo her full attention, and said, “I’m not trying to kill your buzz, Temo. I’m intrigued, okay? Do me a favor and let the client know I’m interested, but I want to know a little more before I commit. Cool?”

“Yeah, that’s cool, Juliet. I gotta say, though, opportunities for this kind of payday don’t come around often for someone at your operator rank. Really give it some thought, all right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Juliet nodded earnestly.

“Right; I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear something.” Temo cut the call, and Juliet frowned, worried she’d pissed him off.

“Do you think I’m being overly cautious, Angel? I don’t want to try to infiltrate WBD . . . I’m a bit leery of Vykertech, too,” she said after some reflection.

“It seems like well-placed caution to me. Even if the client supplies a false identity, we’d have to worry about DNA sampling; I doubt the corp hiring you for their new ‘program’ would allow that to slip by, along with retinal scans and fingerprints. There are ways to spoof all those tests, but none are cheap, aside from the retina print—your implants can be modified.”

“Good. I’m glad I wasn’t unreasonable. I’m going to ice my ankle again and watch some vids. Can you queue up that vampire drama I’ve been checking out?”

“Of course; you’re on episode seven, Chocolates, Coffee, and Type-A positive.”

“Don’t judge me, Angel!” Juliet grinned as she limped to the freezer for her ice pack.

“I must confess that I’m interested to see what happens to Samantha.”

Juliet smiled and snorted, saying, “You’re the best PAI in the world, Angel.”

She spent the afternoon and part of the evening lying on her old, scratchy couch, her vid screen stretched to fill most of her AUI, and watching light, rather ridiculous dramas play out, alternating between snacking and icing her ankle. It wasn’t a surprise to her when her eyes felt too heavy to hold open, and she drifted into sleep before the digital readout in the corner of her vision said eight pm.

Normally, if she received a call or message while sleeping, Angel knew she shouldn’t bother her, but the PAI woke her near midnight saying, rather sweetly, “Juliet. Juliet, Temo is attempting to call you with a high-priority flag.”

“Mm?” Juliet said blearily, scooting back so she could sit up against the arm of the couch. Her neck was stiff, and her ankle was throbbing. “Temo?” she asked, noticing the red, blinking call window. “Accept.”

“Juliet, glad you were awake.” Temo was sitting in a dark room, his face seeming to float in the blackness. “I was doing some borderline delinquent payroll when the client got back to me. I thought you’d want to hear what they had to say.”

“Yeah,” Juliet said, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. “Lay it on me, T.”

“Hey, did Honey tell you that was my nickname?”

“I don’t know,” Juliet yawned again. “I think I wanted to call you that for a while, and it just kinda slipped out.” She giggled sleepily.

“Damn, you’re in a different mood than earlier. Anyway, the client was cool as crisp celery. They gave me a few details when I told them you were very interested but worried about crossing the wrong corpo. The job is with a big player, by my standards, but only mid-sized in the Phoenix area—Grave Industries.”

“Grave . . .” Juliet frowned, “I think I saw some guns with that brand.”

“Yeah, they do mil-tech. Corpo-sec divisions sport a lot of their gear, too.”

“Okay, I’m still interested.” Juliet sat up a little straighter and reached for the soda pouch she’d left, forlorn, on the orange, shag carpet next to the couch. She sipped it and smiled as the warm rootbeer flavor bubbled down her dry throat.

“They also assured me they have a comprehensive false ID for you. They want you to be safe, Juliet. These people are legit, Juliet. I gotta say, I’ve worked with them for three different ops now and never had any complaints.”

“Okay, when do you need my answer?”

“Sooner, the better, Juliet. They’re chomping at the bit to start prepping their operator, whether it’s you or someone else.”

“I’ll get back to you by noon tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, cool. That should be fine. Call me anytime, don’t worry about the hour.”

“‘Kay. Night, Temo.”

“Night, Juliet.” Temo’s fingers flicked, and the call window winked out.

Juliet scooted back down on the couch and stretched out, arching her back until it popped. Then she said, “Angel, call Honey, please.”

She lay there, her mind wandering lazily to fantasize about what the job might be like, while the ringtone started to sound. Would she have to take tests? Would she be selected? What kind of work would it be? She’d often thought about the benefits of working for a corp but never could stomach giving up her freedom or compromising her values for a paycheck. This might be a chance to see what it was like on the inside without the guilt—she’d be working against them, after all.

“Honey is not accepting your call,” Angel said, closing the window.

“Damn. Hey, I haven’t tried Ghoul in a couple of weeks; let’s see if she’s unblocked me.”

A few seconds later, Angel said, “Sorry, Juliet. You’re still blocked.”

“Damn it! Who am I supposed to ask for advice, Angel? I mean, besides you!” Angel didn’t answer, and Juliet lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind far too busy for sleep to reclaim her. “Hey, call Hot Mustard.”

The call window appeared, and the tone sounded once, and then Hot Mustard’s grinning face filled her vision. “Juliet! Talk about an unexpected name to pop up on a call at this hour! How you doing?”

“Hey, Mustard.” Juliet grinned, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You kidding? I’m a night owl, girl.” He sucked on some kind of vape with a bright blue LED and blew a prodigious cloud of steam out. “So? What’s up? Need a drinking buddy?”

“No . . . no,” she said, shaking her head after seriously considering it. “I just wanted some impartial advice.”

“Oh yeah? All right, shoot. Old Mustard’s seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, God! Please tell me you’re changing your handle to Old Mustard.” She giggled and drank another swig of root beer.

“I’ll think about it,” he chuckled.

“Well, here’s the deal: I got offered a pretty big-time job. Something that could take a month or more and has a real fat payday if I’m successful. I’m nervous about it, though, and I’m new to all this stuff, so I don’t know how unusual it is. Can I run it by you?”

“Hell yeah, no worries, Juliet. I’ll be your Romeo . . . not that’s wrong, who was Juliet’s cousin?”

“Tybalt,” Angel supplied.

“Tybalt, which I absolutely already knew and didn’t need my PAI to tell me!” Juliet laughed. “Seriously, though, wasn’t he kind of a jerk?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think he was just a guy who liked to fight and loved his family. Maybe too much, I guess. Well, tell old Tybalt about your job offer, hmm?”

“So there’s a client who wants me to get a job with a pretty big corp here in Phoenix. Obviously, I’d be working against the corp’s better interests in the process. Doesn’t that seem, like, extremely risky?”

“Well, shoot, Juliet. It all depends on what kind of job they want you to get and how hard it’s going to be for you to get whatever they’re looking for while you’re on the inside. If they want you to try to get into some sort of executive training program, you can expect all kinds of tests and a pretty thorough background check. If they want you to work cleaning the furnaces, it might be a little less rigorous; you catch my drift?”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. The client says they have a thorough false ID for me. Do you think I should hear ‘em out? They won’t give me more detail until I sign an NDA and meet with their ‘agent.’”

“Tell you what, Juliet. Why don’t you let me drive you to the meeting? If shit looks hinky, you can bail on it. If they try to stop you from bailing, I’ll be there with lead love taps.”

“Lead love taps? You’ve got a way with words, Hot Mustard.”

“My buddies in my old unit called me a poet, but they were mostly from Arkansas, so their tastes might not align with yours,” he winked and grinned while he spoke, and Juliet could see his cheeks were flushed from drinking.

“Are you going to remember this conversation when you wake up tomorrow?” She smiled, softening the words.

“Don’t you worry about Old Mustard. I ain’t had but half a bottle of bourbon tonight.” His grin was infectious, and Juliet found another giggle slipping between her lips.

“Well, okay. I’ll call my fixer and try to set up the meeting for tomorrow. If you’re busy or you feel differently tomorrow, that’s fine, all right? Don’t stress . . .”

“Nah, I ain’t got shit to do. My next gig’s on Friday. You gotta buy me lunch . . . or coffee, I guess, depending on what time we’re going, though.”

“Deal! I’ll call in the morning, okay?”

“Cheers,” Hot Mustard said, lifting a little glass with a finger’s width of amber liquid at the bottom and throwing it back. “Tomorrow, then.” He winked, and the call window snapped shut.

“That was abrupt,” Juliet said. “Still, he’s a pretty sweet guy, isn’t he, Angel?”

“He’s been quick to come to your aid a couple of times now. You should find out his birthday so you can remember it.”

“His birthday?” Juliet squinted her eyes, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Yes,” Angel replied, “I’ve read that a person’s birthday is a good time for friends to present them with a gift, acknowledging their importance and ensuring they feel appreciated.”

“Angel,” Juliet said, shaking her head in wonder, “you never stop surprising me. That’s an excellent idea. By the way, when’s your birthday?”