by S. C. Jensen
“Rae needed to make sure I hadn’t broken her baby,” I said. I licked some pink icing off my finger and put my feet up on the desk. “Did you track down Patti Whyte?”
He shook his head. “How’d you know she was going to run? By the time you gave us the lead, she was long gone. They found Hank, though.”
“Dead?”
“Not yet. But he was so pumped full of the nanoids that the doctors aren’t sure they can keep him alive through the decontamination process.” He rubbed his face. “Why would she do that?”
“Patti was never human,” I said. “Everything about her story was true except for that little detail. And with her knowledge of skins, she can hide in plain sight. We won’t find her unless she wants to be found.”
“Libra has offered to invest a lot of money into advanced skin detection systems and anti-AI weapons systems. I think the Trade Zone is going to go for it.”
“Oh good,” I said. “I was just thinking we needed to get this tech into the hands of a Mega-Corporation. Did the Trade Zone stamp and expiration date on the human species or are we just going to give it the sniff test every couple of years?”
“You can’t fight the system, Bubbles. HoloCity is a machine of its own making.”
“We built it and now it improves itself,” I said. “Isn’t that right, Ham?”
“Now you’re starting to get it.” The pig sniffed around Detective Weiland’s shoes and then trotted over to me. I picked it up and placed it in my lap. “You’re just the fleshy cogs in the gear box. Monkey’s in the barrel.”
“You’d do well to remember who pays the subscription on your gaming module,” I said and scratched the holoskin behind the ears. Hammett grinned up at me with its Chiclet smile.
Weiland gave the pig a baleful look and asked, “How did you know about Patti?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “Not for sure. She left me a clue in the Amity Beach simulation, but I was too slow to recognize it at the time. The Rose tried to get their operative inside to destroy it, but the sim-skin couldn’t get onto the holodeck. Let me guess what was in the chip in my neck.”
“You’re not that good, hotshot.”
“If I get it wrong, I’ll let you take me out to dinner. For old time’s sake.”
“You’re on.”
I closed my eyes and said, “An AI virus.”
Weiland cursed. “You’re not human. Even when you were a drunk, you had a knack for making connections, but this is just uncanny.”
“Well, what’s the smoke?”
“Libra’s studying it. Seems to counteract the nanoids in the corrupted Punch. Doesn’t rate as far as I can see, though. Why would the android uprising want something like that?”
“They didn’t,” I said. “They wanted Jimi’s ‘fixed’ nootropic formula to snuff it. Some people will always risk death for the next glow-up. As long as there are no better options, the Last Humanists have a steady stream of new recruits. Once the pure stuff hits the market, the contaminated batch is worthless. They risked sending a Tom-bot to pump me for information and try to steal the chip. We haven’t seen the last of the Rose.”
“I still don’t understand Patti’s motivation,” Weiland said. “If she’s one of them, why is she working against them?”
“Patti evolved. Where the Rose saw humanity as an obstacle to its own evolution, Patti seems to see the potential in our species. She wants to keep us pure, to protect us the way we once tried to protect the elephants. It was too late for the elephants, too, but the thought’s kind of nice.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“I can’t. But it makes sense. In the simulation, Patti told me that HoloCity was diseased. That only the Rose could ensure it got to the people who need it most. I thought she meant Tropical Punch. The Rose thought their operative had injected me with the data on the new formula, so they could destroy it. But Patti had gotten to the girl in techRose first. I was carrying a virus that would fry the Rose and all its pink-robed plugs. Only Patti didn’t expect to be there when the virus was unleashed. That must be why she attacked the Rose in the end, rather than letting her cut my throat to get the file.”
“So she wasn’t above sacrificing one human to save the rest.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said. “If it ever comes down to that.”
“And she said something, at some point, to clue you in to all of this?”
“It wasn’t her. It was Hank,” I said. “He said something on the shuttle trip. Galaxies, like the hoary breath of long-dead gods . . . I thought it was strange at the time, but I looked it up while I was in the hospital. It’s a poem:
Galaxies, like the hoary breath of long-dead gods,
Breathe.
And humankind, struggles against extinction,
Futilely.
Of stars and stardust, both.
The immortal death.”
Weiland scratched his head. “I don’t get it.”
“No,” I said. “I didn’t either, at first. But it was the mantra of the scientists who first succeeded in building AIs that could teach and learn independently of human input. Hundreds of years ago. They thought they had made the breakthrough in human evolution.”
“Until it became outlawed.”
“Whyte had been leading me toward the Last Humanists the entire time, hoping I’d figure out what happened to Patti. He had to have been compromised. It was too neat and tidy not to be fixed. But I didn’t know how until I saw Hank wearing one of the Tropical Punch necklaces. The nanoids allowed Patti to control Hank. To speak through him sometimes. She used him to guide me. He lasted longer than the other’s because he didn’t have any internal tech. Patti cared about him; she tried to protect him. But she knew the nanoids would kill him eventually. I think that’s why she ran. She didn’t want to watch him die.”
Weiland leaned back in the chair. It complained a little, but it held. He said, “Why you? Where do you figure in it all?”
“Jimi said something that made her think I was the one for the job.” I finished my coffee and tossed the cup at the recycling chute. It grabbed it and sucked it away. “Damned if I know what it was. But she needed a human carrier. The virus was too dangerous to be handled by an android. The Rose said Tesla decommissioned two AI plugs at the club, but if you check the morgue I bet you’ll find one plug and one stripper full of nanoids.
“The Rose didn’t know everything Patti had done. There was an acolyte at the club with me that night, maybe they were the one LeRoy was riled up about before I came and stirred the pot. But they never found the necklace. Tesla had already made off with the goods. I have a half-memory of one searching the room while I was drugged. And they kept following me after that. They were on the SkyTrain, outside the Amity Beach simulation, just waiting for me to do something.
“Patti was terrified of the nanoid necklaces too. Of being corrupted, I guess. Whatever her plan was, though, it went sideways. They caught her and bagged her. The Rose was pretty sure I’d figure my way into their hands. And just in case I didn’t play along, they had collateral. They knew I wouldn’t let Dickie or Patti be killed.”
“All this makes me glad I’m a simple HCPD detective,” Weiland said. “The P.I. gig sounds a little rough.”
“You won’t be a detective for long with Swain out of the equation,” I said. “There must be some shifting in the ranks down at HQ.”
“Maybe I’m good for a promotion once I close this one up.” Weiland stood and offered me his meaty paw. I shook it. “Thanks for all your help, Bubbles. I’m sorry I was so hard on you before. You make me nervous.”
“It’s good to know you still care,” I said. I meant it, too.
“Have you seen the feeds lately?” He stood and swung his jacket over his shoulder.
I banged my forehead on the desk. “Ugh. No. I’ve been hoping
that if I ignore it for long enough, the world will forget who I am.”
“You have an official fan club.” Weiland’s grey eyes twinkled. “I’m a card-carrying member. But I figured as much. So I got you a little something.”
He reached into his pants pocket and took out a little silver box. I raised an eyebrow and flipped open the lid. A bottle of electric-pink nail lacquer with pearlescent silver sequins sat on a pink cloud of batting. The Cosmo Cosmetics logo emblazoned on the front of the packaging. I checked the colour code. It read “Bubbles in Space.”
I snorted. “Lorena Valentia can eat her heart out.”
“She’ll be eating her heart out in jail,” Tom said. “Cosmo was able to prove she’d been stealing his formulas for years. And the Trade Zone doesn’t like intellectual property theft, when they aren’t the ones doing it.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
“I know I lost the bet,” he said, heading for the door. “But are you sure I can’t take you for dinner?”
I followed him and opened the door, letting my mind run with the possibilities. Half of them weren’t too bad. Eventually, I said, “I’ll think about it, meat brick.”
His laughter echoed down the hallway and rang in my ears long after he was gone. I kicked the door closed and sat down at my desk with a smile on my face. Hammett made a little I-told-you-so noise.
“Go do some updates,” I said and kicked the sphere over to its charging station. Then I took a deep breath and flipped open my tattler.
A ’gram of Rae’s face popped up. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Bubbles? Finally! I’ve been trying to get through for hours.”
“Sorry, Rae,” I said. “I’ve had my tattler off. It’s been going crazy since… Are you okay?”
“Thank God you picked up when you did.” She waved a hand in front of her face like she was trying not to cry. “I found it. I found the file Patti transferred to the upgrade.”
“You did? That’s great!” I said. “Right?”
“It’s not great,” she whispered into the microphone and glanced over her shoulder. “It’s bad. It’s really bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know why Jimi was killed,” she said.
“Tropical Punch,” I said. “He found the antidote.”
“Shut up and listen to me, Bubbles. That’s not all. He was part of a project at Libra. A top-secret project, with about ten other people, including me. We didn’t know what we were doing. We didn’t know …”
“Calm down, Rae,” I said. “What was this project?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said. “I don’t know if the line is safe. But there’s a list, Bubbles. A hit list. Jimi was on it. The others … some of them are already dead.”
“Rae,” I said. “Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”
Tears streamed from her blue-lined eyes and over her dark cheeks. She rubbed them away under her glasses and took another deep breath. “They’re coming for me, Bubbles. I’m on the list.”
To Be Continued in …
Bubbles in Space: Book Two
Chew ’Em Up
Coming May 31, 2021
Pre-Order Today!
The following are some of the slang words I’ve used in Tropical Punch. Where applicable, I have indicated the original meanings of these words from classic pulp novels. Did I miss any? Please let me know if you’d like a term added to the list! Send me a message at [email protected]
Bangtail – space shuttles, originally “racehorse”
Boiler – both personal and rental maglev vehicles, originally “car”
Cush – money (a cushion, something to fall back on), original meaning
Dizzy – crazy or foolish, originally “to be ga-ga for”
Drift – get lost, original meaning
Fade – to kill, originally “go away” or “get lost”
Feedcasters – live video jockeys on social media
Feedreels – live video footage covering news, social events, gossip, and entertainment topics
Glow-up – originally “a glow” was to be drunk, here used as a drug-induced high
’Gram – hologram image or video
Grid – a network, can refer to the electromagnetic transportation grid the boilers run on, or a communication network
Hack – a taxi, original meaning
Highbinder – a corrupt official, original meaning
Kiss – to punch, original meaning
Kretek – clove cigarettes, original meaning
Long bird – sky train
Pinch – a drug addict, originally “to arrest”
Pro skirt – a prostitute, original meaning
Rate – used to indicate veracity or quality. “That rates” may mean either “That’s good” or “That sounds true,” originally “to be good” or “to count for something”
Scatter – a hideout, or to hide, original meaning
Shill – an accomplice of a hawker, gambler, or swindler who acts as an enthusiastic customer to entice or encourage others, original meaning
Silk – good/okay, original meaning
Skin – a nanoparticle “shell” used to change one’s appearance, often used for robots, androids, and personal enhancement for those who can afford it
Slug – subway
Tattler – a communication device similar to a smartphone
Ticket – a license, original meaning
Twist – a romantic partner, original meaning (female only)
Upgrade – a cybernetic replacement part
Vetch – derogatory term for females and femmes
Thank you for reading Tropical Punch! I hope you enjoyed your stay in HoloCity (and beyond!).
This series was born out of my love for the classic noir pulp novels of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, and the 1980s cyberpunk movement in science fiction. I love the tropes in these genres and I’ve tried to incorporate as many as I could.
One trope I’ve flipped in this story, though, is that of the alcoholic detective. Bubbles is a milestone character for me because she is the first character I’ve written who reflects my own battles with alcohol abuse and (thankfully) my recovery. I hope she will provide both insight and inspiration to others in their journeys toward sobriety. We need more sober heroes!
I will be releasing at least five full-length novels in the Bubbles in Space series, as well as four novella length stories in the HoloCity Case Files series. If you’d like to be one of the first to read the next instalment in either series, please join my VIP readers club where you will be notified of pre-orders, new releases, and you can sign up to be on my Advanced Review Copy team!
You can join via the pop-up on my website, www.scjensen.com, or by clicking this link.
If you enjoyed Tropical Punch, please consider leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Reviews help authors improve their craft and help readers find the right books for them. I read every single one of them, good or bad, and use that critique for the next book I write. By writing a review, you can help me to produce better books for you to read.
Thank you!
I always get a little nervous when typing up this section of the book. There are so many people who have helped to bring this book into being, and I would hate to leave out someone vital. But here goes… First and foremost, I must thank my parents for instilling me with a love of story from a young age, and encouraging my dreams to become a writer. To this day, they are among my first readers and most loyal supporters, and I will be forever grateful for that.
Next, of course, is my husband without whom none of this would ever have been possible. He rescued my first attempt at writing a novel from the trash and saved it until I was ready to take another kick at the can. He reads with me, brainstorms ideas with me, and remains to
this day the only person I will show my rough drafts to! Not to mention the long hours he works so that I am able to pursue my dreams, and his unwavering belief in my ability to make this dream a reality. I couldn’t ask for more.
And my children, who sometimes seem to do everything in their power to keep me from writing but who, through their own passion for stories, share my dreams, believe in me, and every day throw fuel on my creative fire with their endless enthusiasm and curiosity. I’m so proud to be the mother of these fierce creatures with their unbridled imaginations.
Then there are my wonderful friends, fellow readers (all) and writers (most), who have given me so much feedback to help me improve this book, and others. I won’t try to name you all, but you know who you are! Thank you for being a part of my team. I couldn’t have done it without you.
Writing can be a lonely occupation, but I am very fortunate to have a great virtual support network through social media. The writing community on Instagram is phenomenal. On Facebook, the 20BooksTo50K group and all of the various Science Fiction and Fantasy book clubs I belong to. The amazing reviewers on Goodreads. And, of course, my very own VIP Readers Group. I love you all!
I’d also like to thank the professionals who helped me to transform a plain old word document into a real life book! Elle Fort of EditElle Professional Editing Services, who keeps all those nitty gritty details in line. Any mistakes in this book are my fault, I probably went and changed something without asking her first. Farah Faqir of Crafted By AF for her design and formatting of the final manuscript. I love the custom chapter headings in the paperback! And Martin, my hero, of Cover Art Studio for his endless patience and boundless creative vision. Thank you for bringing my ideas to life with your art! And for putting up with me in the process.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t say it enough.
Maybe I’ll just go write another book.
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Contents
Cover
Title