Neon Cortex
A Neon Helix Universe Story
By
Nik Whittaker
Contents
Title Page
Also By The Author
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Thanks
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Further Reading
Also Available
Also By The Author
Neon Helix Universe
Neon Helix
Neon Cortex
Other Books
The Omega Drive
Copyright
Copyright ©2019 Nik Whittaker
All rights reserved.
Acknowledgments
Cover Art by Rebcacovers
Thanks
To the people who gave me the courage and support to keep doing this.
Thank You All
Chapter 1
The sun was setting on the horizon. It's sunbeams radiating across the waves, colours dissolving into the ocean. Salem sat on the balcony overlooking the cove. His white linen shirt waving in the cool breeze, a glass of white wine dripping condensation onto his tanned hand. Beside him lay a small table with writing instruments scattered across it. A pile of papers; his work from the day stacked beside an old typewriter.
He took a long, deep breath of pure, crisp air. Filling his lungs through his nostrils, he held the breath.
Three, two, one..
He let the breath out through pursed lips, his whole body relaxing into the moment. A moment he revisited more times than he could count.
His gaze ran casually across the waves, the way someone admired a work of art.
That was when he noticed the flaw.
A small square of the ocean was playing a loop, the waves weren't in line with the rest of the water.
"Fuck," Salem sighed, rolling his eyes.
The loop spread, radiating from the surrounding areas, until the entire ocean was a flickering mess of loops, all out of sync. Then the sky began to follow. Salem threw the wine glass at the glitched ocean.
"Fuck off!" He shouted, as the glass fell into the glitches and vanished.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," Salem paced the balcony, holding his bald head in his hands.
The entire scene froze, the ocean and sky no longer glitched. A freeze frame of an image. Then it began to shrink, as though it was retracting, the images getting smaller and smaller. Behind the waves, a cold, grey metal surrounded him. Once they'd vanished, Salem was left standing in a large, grey sphere of a room.
Salem narrowed his eyes and glared at the metal, challenging it. He stood there for five minutes before he looked away.
"Fucking fine!" He shouted, as he pressed a hand to his right temple and closed his eyes.
When he reopened them, he was staring at the ceiling. It needed a thorough clean. Grease, dust, and stains that he did not want to identify adorned the brickwork. He lay there, breathing in the scent of stale sweat, before he began to move.
Turning his head slowly to the left, he saw more decorated brickwork. To his right, a large computer was set up next to the bed he was laying in.
"Take your goddamn time," a voice came from above him.
He stretched his neck up to look behind him, and could see a woman stood there. In the dimmer light of the room, he couldn't make out any details.
"Put me back in," he said, or at least he tried to say. His vocal chords were dry and stiff from lack of use. His words came out as crackled fragments, like a spluttering candle.
"If you're trying to say you want to go back in, then the answer is no," the voice was strict but there was an undertone of youth running through it.
Salem sighed again, then tried to lift his chest. His muscles gave him no support.
"Your body is in a state of retardation, from lack of movement," the voice continued, "this will help."
The woman moved to Salem's left. Before he could resist, she jammed a needle into his arm. He flinched away, but his lack of strength failed to avoid the puncture.
"It's a Bio-Stim, to revitalise your body," she explained, pulling the needle out.
Salem felt a warmth run through his body, as the medicine did its work. It felt as though his body was swelling, his muscles regaining their tension, the blood pumping faster and the dehydration faded. Blinking several times, he felt liquid dampen his eyeballs, and the sandpaper of his eyelids smoothed out.
"Better?" The woman asked, sarcasm rolling from her tone.
Salem propped himself up on the bed, his muscles almost completely restored. He looked down at his body. The muscles might have been restored, but it couldn't repair the malnourishment. His skin was tight against his bones. Raising his hand, balling it into a fist, he raised his index finger as he stared at the woman. It surprised him to see she was younger than he expected, despite the strict tone.
"One, who the fuck are you? Two, why in the goddamn hell, did you take me out of the VR," a second finger joined the first. "And three, why shouldn't I rip your fucking head off and use it as a paperweight!" Salem spat the words.
The woman looked at him with the same indignation a mother gives a rebellious child.
"One, my name is Annabella Rizinski. Two, I was ordered to come here and get you out. And three, if you fucking try it you'll be gargling your own balls before you even lay a finger on me."
Salem grinned, maybe this girl wasn't all bad.
"Ordered by who?" He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, suddenly aware of his lack of clothing, except for a VR nappy, which covered his privates. The tubes extended to the bed below.
"Dramarti Silverstone," the woman looked away as Salem yanked the tubes from under him.
"Marty?" Salem scanned the woman's eyes.
"Yes, he told me you'd be surprised to hear from him, and that your six years in VR might have..." she paused, "... affected your mental state," she finished, choosing her phrasing carefully.
"Six years in pure bliss, away from the headaches and decay," Salem gazed longingly upwards, as the memories of the simulation flooded back for a moment.
"How can you have stayed in there for six years?" The woman shook her head.
"Listen Bella, don't paint me with your judgemental brush. You don't know what goes on in here," he tapped his head with the knuckles of his right hand. "What does Marty want with me, anyway?"
Bella fished inside her jacket, and pulled out a photograph, passing it to Salem. He took it and examined the picture, a girl in her twenties stared back at him. He recognised her, though he couldn't place the face.
"Who am I looking at?"
"That is Kirsten Silverstone," Bella explained.
"Little Kirsty? No way!" Salem hadn't seen her since she was in her early teens.
"Yes, and she's gone missing. Marty... Mr Silverstone wants you to find her for him," Bella took the photo back.
Salem stared at her, his eyes scanned her facial features like a wolf examining its meal.
"No," Salem finally replied, swinging his legs back onto the bed and laying back down.
"No?"
"No!"
He reached out for the cables which attached to his temples and linked him to the computer beside him, fumbling to reattach them.
"Mr Silverstone said you might not be co-operative," Bella began, "he told me to tell you that if you don't help, he would be forced to pull the funding he has so graciously been affording you to... facilitate your time here."
"He wouldn't, not after everything," Salem whispered.
Bella raised a hand to her ear, pushing an open comms unit.
"Please revoke Mr Erickson's account," another tight smile.
Without warning, the computer beside Salem powered down, the lights across it dying.
Salem looked from the computer to Bella, and back again.
"Fuck you, and fuck Marty, and fuck this fucking computer!" He jumped to his feet, kicking the computer, his bare toes splitting from the impact, blood dripping from the wounds. Salem screamed at the pain and sat back on the bed again, his head hanging low.
"I just wanted to get away," he sounded somber as he spoke to no one in particular, "I can't deal with the noise. Why can't I just be allowed to rest and be in peace?"
Bella looked at the back of Salem's head, unsure of how to react. Before she could decide what to do, Salem had jumped to his feet again. A fire reignited inside him.
"Fine! Let's get this over with!" He hobbled over to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room. Opening them, he pulled out some clothes and began to dress.
Black jeans and a denim waistcoat. The waistcoat had several patches sown into it, she recognised one or two as band logos and assumed the others were ones she hadn't heard of.
"Right, so, tell me what you know about little Miss Kirsty and let's find the little troublemaker, so I can get back to my bloody retirement!"
Chapter 2
Salem and Bella walked out of the room, and into the long corridor, flickering bulbs half illuminated the way. Lining its length were several doors leading to similar rooms, each with its own VR unit installed. As they reached the end of the corridor, a small booth with a large man in an off-white vest top greeted them.
"Is that Salem? Frack me! I forgot you were even here!"
"Six years, Tony. Six years and they drag me out."
"Have to face reality sometime," Tony replied, wiping a drop of sweat from his brow.
"I'd rather not, but I don't seem to get a say in the matter. Be seeing you Tony," Salem nodded.
"Been a pleasure Mr S," Tony gave him a mock salute, and hit a buzzer, unlocking the exit.
They stepped outside, the cool air of the Boulevard greeted them. Salem inhaled deeply, it wasn't the same as the VR synthetic air, but at least it was fresh.
"Where to?" Bella asked, willing to give Salem the choice.
"I'm going to need a drink," Salem replied, "and soon."
He rubbed his temples, the beginning of his headaches sneaking through. It wouldn't be long before the pain became too intense.
Bella rolled her eyes, but checked her PDA, the small electronic device on her wrist, for the closest bar.
"Valhalla isn't far from here," she said, pointing the direction.
"Excellent, lead the way."
They set off, turning out of the side street and into the main Boulevard. Spanning the length of the entire Metropolis, the Boulevard was the central core for anything and everything. Neon illumination filled the air, as holographic billboards burst into view as they walked.
Salem stumbled, as the headache intensified.
"Fuck!!" He shouted at an advert which popped up in front of him, the motion-triggered advertisements deliberately made to assault the senses.
"Are you ok?"
"I will be, just get me to the bar."
They stumbled into Valhalla, the Nordic theme of the bar stretching beyond the name. Inside, a long wooden table ran down its length. A large wooden chair at its end, home to a holographic Odin, who sat overlooking the drinkers.
"What can I get you?" The woman behind the bar asked, her braided hair and outfit matching the theme.
"Ale, with a mead chaser. Strongest you have," Salem flung himself onto the barstool. Bella casually sitting beside him.
"An ale for me too please, but hold the chaser," she added.
"Coming right up," the woman spun round and prepared the drinks. The ale was presented in replica horns, stood in wooden holders, the mead in a small bone cup.
Once the drinks were in front of them, Salem downed the mead, followed by half the ale.
"Care to explain?" Bella asked.
"Huh?" Salem glanced up, the ale dripping from his chin.
"Why the urgency for alcohol? Mr Silverstone told me to assist you in whatever you requested, however strange it might seem. He didn't tell me I couldn't ask questions."
Salem wiped his chin and took another swig of ale. The pain was subsiding from his head.
"Did Marty tell you why he wanted me to find Kirsty? Why he didn't just hire some private detective?"
"No, just that you had skills which were invaluable."
Salem let out a short one syllable laugh.
"Skills, yeah he would call it that, it's more like a curse. Y'see in my noggin here," he rapped his temples, "there's something wrong, something that doesn't work like everyone else's."
He finished his ale and waved the bartender over for a refill.
"Every signal that gets sent out into the world. Every communication, every bit of data in the airwaves, every text, email, radio signal or fucking broadcast comes right into my brain pan," Salem gestured with every word, his hands waving wildly before coming to a stop on his shaved head.
"I don't follow."
"Imagine you send a message to a friend, the data travels from your PDA into the air, then travels, god knows where, before it ends up at its destination. Imagine that data is like a tiny river, flowing from one end to the other. My brain is like a checkpoint where the water has to run through before it continues on it's journey. I can pick up everything floating around, it's fucking attracted to my cerebral cortex."
"But there must be thousands, millions of bits of data coming out at any one time?"
"Billions, trillions, fucking gazillions! And having all that information coming into your brain, all the goddamn time, well let's just say it's no picnic! Hence," he raised his newly filled ale, "the alcohol. It helps numb the pain and allows me some focus."
He drank deep again, the pain becoming bearable.
"So you're telling me, that you can read any data being transmitted in the air?"
"I can, to an extent."
"What can you read now?" Bella eyed him suspiciously.
Salem took another swig, then closed his eyes for a moment. Slowing his breathing as he focused, trying to untangle the mess of data coming into his mind.
"Ok, there's a couple in the corner, the woman has just received a message from another man, she's having an affair and is about to come clean. The table at the far end, a group of CyBio employees are about to receive a message about an upcoming launch, one which should make them very rich."
Before he could continue, the man across from them jumped to his feet, shouting at the woman. They couldn't quite make out the words, but it was clear he wasn't happy with something. A moment later, a loud cheer rose from the table of suits at the far end.
Salem turned to Bella and smiled.
"Impressive," she replied.
"It's a fucking pain in my ass! That's why I went into VR, the shielding of the booths blocks out all the signals, it completely isolated me. The VR kept me sane, away from the fucking pain of all this data. Can you imagine what it's like to see everyones dirty secrets and information that's transmitted. Every dirty text and disgusting web search, unfiltered into your head. People are fucking decay when they think no one can see what they are doing."
Salem finished his ale, Bella just catching up with her first.
"That must be hard," was all she could reply. It had taken her off guard, she actually felt sorry for Salem.
"Don't pity me, pity all the debauched fuckers out there whose souls are tainted," he sighed, settling back into his seat. "Tell me about Kirsty, what's happened."
Bella pulled up her PDA and typed a code into it
. A small holographic display popped up from it, visible on both sides, so Salem could see it.
"Kirsty was last seen here, in the main area of BetaCity." A small map zoomed in on the display. "She frequented several of the clubs here. About a week ago, she vanished. Cameras in the area caught her leaving the Octave Club at one in the morning. The club uses a bio scan entry and exit system, but the Boulevard cameras black out, just as she exited the club."
The holographic display showed video footage from outside the club, the cameras cutting out just as the doors opened. Then reinstating a minute later.
"A cascade of similar blank cameras roll along the Boulevard, like a ripple, until they all come back online. Kirsty hasn't been seen since."
"No ransom notes? Demands?"
"Nothing, Mr Silverstone is beside himself. The MPD have logged it as a missing persons case, but have done little to find her."
"I see," Salem ran the cameras back and forth using an on-screen control, watching each of them in time.
"I need to go to that club, there might be a trace of whatever blocked the cameras."
"Ok, I'll get us a cab," Bella called one up on the PDA.
Finishing their drinks, they got up and left the bar, holding the door open for a young red-haired man who was stepping in.
Chapter 3
The AutoCab ride was uneventful. Salem spent the time looking out the window, checking for any changes in the Boulevard since his time in VR. The streets were busier and more colourful, but the fundamentals were the same.
They arrived at the club, Bella paid for the cab using her PDA to swipe over the payment screen.
"This is definitely the place?" Salem asked, as they approached a plain concrete looking building.
"Yep, it began as a secret underground club, the plain facade hiding it from passers-by," Bella replied.
Salem closed his eyes, concentrating hard. The trace of hundreds of messages and data flooded his head. He pressed the palms of his hands over his ears, as he allowed the data to flow through him, sweat pooled across his forehead.
Neon Cortex (Neon Helix Universe Book 2) Page 1