CD & EA 1.27 - A Change in Perspective

Kind of an interlude chapter here. What do you think? Too boring? Too shallow? Or is it all right?

Hope you're all enjoying your weekends :)

-Plum

After her breakfast with Honey, Juliet took a cab back to the trailer park. She was sore, had a full belly, and the prospect of grabbing a nap sounded really good to her, which was why she said, “Ah, fuck,” when a blinking incoming call icon appeared in her AUI. She was still walking through the park toward her trailer when she accepted it.

“Juliet!” Temo said, exposing his perfect, brilliant teeth in a wide smile. “I hope you saw the ratings you earned last night!”

“Yeah, I did, and the Sol-bits. Thanks, Temo.”

“You kidding me? I’m thanking you! The client was very happy that all those dreamers were put back into their slumber without you having to blast ‘em all. There was some concern about how deep they seem to be in their program, but that’s a typical dreamer problem, and not ours, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Juliet said, though her imagination instantly began to jump to images of emaciated bodies—dead dreamers, too absorbed in their artificial reality to jack out and take care of their real bodies. “I guess so. Whatever that corp is doing to ‘em is messed up, though, Temo. Their PAIs are all hacked, and in a messy way, growing synth nerves out of their eyes and stuff.”

“I hear you, Juliet. Don’t worry; the commune already reported the mess to some non-profits. Hopefully, someone can do something for ‘em, but that’s not our problem. You stopped the violence, and I heard straight from Hot Mustard that you were the reason we all got a bonus last night. Great work. This leads me to the other reason I called—I’m working on recruiting a face for your heist. Might take me a few days, maybe even a week. The guy I’ve got in mind is working an op right now, and I don’t think you’re the type that wants to settle for second best. Am I right?”

“Well, how distant a second is your second best?” Juliet asked, imagining how Ghoul would react to being stuck in the trailer another week.

“Pretty distant, Juliet. Trust me. You want this guy. I can get you some other gigs in the meantime. What do you say?”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll talk to my friend and make her understand the delay. Hey, try to include Ghoul and your niece when it comes to doing gigs, huh? I’d like to work with people I can trust.”

“Sure, what about Hot Mustard and Corbitt? Those guys perform all right?”

“Yeah,” Juliet said, pausing at the stoop leading up to her trailer door. “They were pretty decent. I was glad they didn’t fuss about not killing everything in sight.”

“All right!” Temo said, pumping a fist. “Sounds like I’ve got some work cut out for me. I’ll try to send you some opportunities in the next day or two, cool?”

“Yep. Thanks, Temo.” Juliet waved and then cut the call.

“That the fixer?” Ghoul asked, silently pushing the door open. As it opened, Juliet could see the pistol she held slightly behind her back—bright red with stylized lighting bolts on the metal frame—and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Not gonna blast me, are you?”

“What?” Ghoul blanched and shoved the gun into her waistband. “No, you nut! I’m just paranoid when I hear people walking up.

“Yeah, I know,” Juliet said with a half-grin, climbing into the trailer. “Well, I have good news and bad news. What you wanna hear first?”

“Bad news!” Ghoul said, smiling and hopping up on the counter opposite the door.

“Really? That fast?”

“Yeah, I always wanna save the good news. Don’t you?”

“Hmm, now you mention it,” Juliet laughed and nodded. She opened the little fridge and took out a grape-flavored soda pouch. “Okay, bad news: you need to lay low another week or so.”

“Oh, is that all? I thought you were going to tell me we were burned and had to bail on this sweet little trailer!” Ghoul smirked, and her sharp, chrome-colored teeth winked at Juliet, reflecting the kitchen’s dome light.

“Nah, nothing so dramatic. Temo has a good face in mind, but he’s unavailable for a little while. The good news is that he’s happy with the job we did and is going to find us some more work while we wait.”

“Cool! I can live with that, Juliet. Sheesh, you acted like I was going to have a meltdown or something!” She held out her hand, and Juliet handed her the drink pouch.

While Ghoul gulped most of her soda, Juliet said, “Well, I know you’re sick of being cooped up here. I think I was projecting.” She turned back to the fridge and took out another pouch of soda, this one orange-flavored.

“Tell me about your karate lesson or whatever.”

“It’s not karate. I think it’s like a mix of martial arts—I think Sensei gets annoyed by people that only study one art. One of the students mentioned someone named Bruce Lee. That ring a bell?”

“Are you serious? Tell your PAI to play you Enter the Dragon tonight. It’s old as hell, but Bruce Lee was a legend. Something like a hundred . . . maybe two hundred years ago? I can’t remember, but yeah, watch that guy. He didn’t really do MMA, though, not the way most people these days talk about it, but he was really big on learning from different arts.”

“Oh really? Okay, will do! Maybe tomorrow night, though; I got myself roped into going back to the dojo tonight to watch the sword class and work out in the open-dojo hours.”

“Shit, you’re really getting into it, huh? I know a thing or two, too. We could practice some of the stuff you’re learning over in the little grassy lot behind the trailer.”

Juliet chugged some of her soda and burped loudly. “Not as good as grape!” she said, mock-frowning at Ghoul. They both laughed, and then Juliet said, “Anyway, yeah, that would be very cool. Let’s save it for a day when I’m not already sore as hell, though.”

“Sure. Any other plans for the day?”

“I kinda wanted to get a nap, and then I’ll have a few hours to kill. These Sol-bits are burning a hole in my crypto-vault, though. We need any gear I should go shopping for?”

“Well, I could make a list a mile long, but there are a few things—you could do with a decent data deck so I can get mine back, and you also need a real jammer, don’t you think?”

“Yeah! I could get something like Vikker had—damn, I wish I hadn’t lost that thing; I bet it had all kinds of info on it.”

“Oh, you had it?” Ghoul smashed her drink container into a ball and tossed it into the bag hanging on the drawer next to her.

“Yeah, for a while, but I lost it when I had to ditch my car.” Juliet had already told Ghoul about the encounter she’d had at the AutoDrug.

“That’s right—you said they caught the ping it sent out with a drone, hmm? Oh well, yeah, you should try to get something like that.”

Ghoul held the top of the bag open, Juliet tossed her drink pouch into it, and then she gestured toward her room. “Okay, well, I’m serious about a nap. Make a list and send it to Angel if you think of something else you need.”

“Angel?” Ghoul lifted a white-blond eyebrow, her blue eye twinkling.

“My PAI.” Juliet chuckled, “Don’t judge! What’s your PAI’s name?”

“Hmm, well, his official name is Carl, but I call him dummy most of the time.”

“Well, have Carl tell Angel what you want me to buy! I’m taking a sani-spray and then a nap.” Juliet wished she could take a bath or a real shower, but the trailer wasn’t equipped for it, even if she wanted to pay for the luxury.

An hour later, after she’d cleaned up and collapsed on top of her polyester-blend comforter, Angel woke her up with a gentle alarm. She wanted to be annoyed about it, but she’d asked the PAI not to let her nap longer than that. She dressed, as usual, in Tevlo stretchy jeans, her work boots, a tight-fitting Tevlo pullover, and her vest. Concealed weapons in place, she walked down the hallway to the trailer’s living space and found Ghoul snoozing on the couch, her eyes twitching and darting around rapidly.

“Ghoul’s PAI says that she’s in a relaxation simulation. Do you want to disturb her?” Angel asked.

“No, that’s fine,” Juliet subvocalized. “Leave a message for her, though, that we’re doing some shopping.” With that, Juliet picked up her backpack and the SMG she’d taken the night before, quietly let herself out of the trailer, and started walking toward the gate. “AutoCab coming?” she asked Angel.

“Yes. ETA is seven minutes. You have a list of items that Ghoul has requested you purchase, and she sent you five thousand Sol-bits. Her note indicates that she gave you extra for the rent.”

“Five k? What kind of stuff did she want me to get?”

“Some ammunition and personal hygiene items. I estimate the total cost of her requests to be less than five hundred Sol-bits.”

“She’s probably feeling guilty about putting me out, so she sent me more than necessary. I’ll talk to her about it later. Any other messages?”

“You received a contact card from Temo. It’s for a woman named Dr. Adelaide Murphy.”

“Ah, the cyber doc! I forgot I’d asked Honey to get that for me! Hmm, should I call her? Should I send a message?”

“Perhaps a message would be best. Doctors aren’t known for sitting by the phone waiting for calls.”

“Clever, Angel, very clever.” Juliet walked through the gate, waving to the guard. It was the old vet with the wire-job legs, and he nodded, favoring her with a wink as he smoked a genuine, very fragrant cigar.

“Going shooting?” he asked, nodding toward her SMG.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Actually, I’m gonna sell this.” She tapped the gun’s plastic stock and smiled.

“Huh, yeah, I’d take it off your hands, but I’ve got too many guns already. See you when you get back,” he said, sucking a deep lungful of cigar smoke and blowing it out his nostrils.

Juliet waved again and kept walking. “Okay, Angel, send the following message: Hello, Dr. Murphy. I’m an operator who works in the Phoenix area. I have a few upgrades I’d like to look into, starting with some high-end auditory implants. I . . .”

“Juliet?” Angel interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“You might inquire about a medical nanite synth-organ.”

“You think I can afford something like that?”

“They come in varying grades, and I think if you keep working for Temo, you should be able to afford one of the lower-tier ones. Something that could help you stop bleeding, avoid shock, even jumpstart your heart in a . . .”

“I get it. I get it. I don’t want to think of all the horrible things that could happen to my body right now. Okay, continuing the message: I would also like to hear about your options for medical nanites. I have other needs, but those are the most pressing. Looking forward to hearing back from you. Got it, Angel?”

“Yes, shall I send it?”

“Yep,” Juliet said as her AutoCab pulled up to the curb. She tossed her backpack and the now-empty SMG onto the seat next to her and climbed in. “Hi, cab. My PAI will send you my weapons license.”

She tuned out the cab’s response and frowned at the gun sitting next to her. She’d worked very hard not to think about the man she’d killed. Whenever his face flashed into her mind, and she started to feel guilty, she’d remind herself that he’d been trying to kill her teammates. In fact, he’d pointed his gun her way. More than that, he was working for a corporation that was doing some very shady shit, ruining the lives of who-knows-how-many people. Still, she couldn’t seem to get the little lurch in her stomach to go away every time the memory of that bloody rose blooming in his throat flashed through her mind.

“Juliet, I’ve told the cab to make several stops, the last of which is an electronics store specializing in custom data decks.”

“Thanks, Angel,” Juliet said, realizing the cab was already in motion. “You’re a lot of help. You know that? I’m not being facetious—you’re a lot more than a PAI to me.”

“I . . . appreciate that, Juliet.”

Their first stop was an AutoDrug, and Juliet found herself sitting in the cab, looking out the window at the store for quite a while before she realized what she was doing. “Angel, any unusual drone activity or anything going on out there?”

“Not that I can detect.”

Juliet sighed, let herself out, and walked toward the store, carefully scrutinizing the windows, well aware that she was being silly but still unable to shake the uneasiness that the store gave her—it was identical in appearance to the one where she’d been ambushed. Still, she knew there were hundreds of the stores around Phoenix, and the odds that the people hunting her were watching them all were absurdly small.

Her stress proved to be unfounded, and she completed her purchases in the store in record time without another person saying a word to her. No one even really looked at her as far as she could tell, and she chuckled at the reality—people at an AutoDrug didn’t want to be bothered. Nobody went to a store like that to talk to people. Her next stop was at a tactical and military gear reseller whose shop looked like an old house on the edge of the ABZ.

Quite a few people were milling around in the converted garage, and Juliet eyed the racks of old vests, fatigues, boots, and the several plastiglass cases displaying weapons from pistols to shotguns to enormous machine guns. She sold the SMG and extra magazines, ensuring Angel scrubbed the identifiers in the software and reinstalled the stock firmware. Ghoul had defaced the physical serial numbers already.

Juliet had been nervous about selling something in such a condition, but the grizzled old shopkeeper had simply said that he’d need to take ten percent off the resale value because the gun needed to be listed as salvage and issued a new serial number. Regardless, Juliet walked out of the place with another thirteen hundred bits after unloading the goggles, the SMG, and the magazines.

While they drove to their next stop, the electronics store, Juliet asked Angel, “What’s my balance now?”

“You have 46,533 Sol-bits.”

“I never could have imagined having that kind of cash on hand in my old life. It sucks that I’ve had to give up so much. You know, losing contact with all those people, but my future seems so different now. Back then, I used to think about what I’d do with my weekend, what I might save up for, like a trip to see my mom or a present for Fee. I used to obsess over how to meet someone, maybe or even if I should—I could barely afford my own problems. Now, when I think of my future, I’m thinking about exciting gigs or learning how to fight at Honey’s dojo. Now, I think about getting new cyber gear, or, shit, Angel, I think about going into space!”

“Your life is certainly different, Juliet! I’m happy that you’re improving yourself in so many ways, though I’d like for us to find a way for you to keep improving without the risks that you’re facing.”

“One thing at a time, Angel. One thing at a time,” Juliet said as the AutoCab pulled into the parking garage attached to a rather large building—they’d moved further into Phoenix proper for this final stop. “What kind of building is this?”

“Mercantile,” Angel said as if that explained everything.

“Like a shopping mall?”

“There are fifteen levels dedicated to various storefronts, ten levels of restaurants and clubs, and the top forty levels are apartments.”

“Lots of exposure for me, but I guess it’s all right with you spoofing my ID, um, but I’m wearing a gun,” Juliet subvocalized as she stepped out of the cab.

“Would you like me to wait?” the AutoCab’s friendly, smooth voice asked.

“Yes. Park here and wait for me. My PAI will send payment as required.”

“Zingeun Incorporated operates this building, and they have a liberal firearms policy—they leave it to the clientele to only carry what they are legally allowed. There is no overt enforcement of this policy.”

“Okay . . .” Juliet said, looking around the dim garage nervously. “Give me a map to the elevator, please.” Juliet’s nervousness, at least for the moment, proved unwarranted. She made her way to the elevators, and a minute later, she stepped out onto floor thirty-two. Stepping out of the elevator, she found herself amidst a teeming mass of humanity, all walking back and forth from one store to another. The central shopping levels of the tower appeared to all open onto an open-air plaza at the center of the building.

Banners hung down in the central space, their image-fabric displaying colorful advertisements for various clothing brands, foods, even weapons, and cybernetic enhancements. The wide walkway around the bright, open area was lined with shop fronts, just like the old-school malls Juliet had visited in Tucson.

Her AUI indicated that the electronics store was to her left and around the corner, so she merged with the flow of people and smiled at the anonymity that let her look around, observing all the humanity—tall, short, colorful, bland, augmented or not. Mostly, Juliet enjoyed watching the kids. She loved the carefree, excited way they hustled around, tugging at their parents’ hands or running with a pack of friends. She envied their youth and their genuine excitement for what the future might bring.

“That’s dumb,” she said, catching herself thinking like she used to back when she was a scrap cutter. Her own future had opened up quite a lot, and she’d just been talking to Angel about that very subject. Her smile broadened as she realized she wasn’t stuck in a rut any longer. Sure, she had some problems, but she was working on them. They were working on them—she wasn’t alone; she had Angel, she had Ghoul, and she had other people who were fast becoming real friends.

With a spring in her step, she hurried around the corner and stepped into KTY Electronics, eyes gleaming as they took in all the shiny tech lining the walls in crystal-clear plastiglass display cases. She saw decks of all shapes and sizes, specs in a hundred different styles, data cables, memory chips, and even a row of PAI chips displayed with VR headsets for customers to sample. She saw dream-rig gear, brochures for submersion chairs, and even netjacker rigs. Juliet’s smile broadened as she looked around, and it really clicked, really hit home—she could afford to shop there.