The Sensation

by Amanda Bridgeman

  Salvi felt her spine straighten. Her mind instantly wandered back to the image of the women in Barker’s Studio; raising their glasses, flicking their hair and ‘dancing on the ceiling’.

  “Like the Chief said,” Kara continued, “it’s exclusive. The whole point of the joint is that you enter on the ground floor and work your way up to the Ceiling. And when I say work your way up, I mean that you need a pass to enter each floor and you cannot get that pass until you make the right friends or impress the right people. There’ve been wannabees going there for almost a year and they can’t get past the ground floor. It took me a couple of months to make it to the second floor, but thanks to my dealing, I made some new friends who helped me rise up. I’ve now made it to the third floor. The fourth floor is the Ceiling.

  “Caine progressed quickly with his looks and that perfect smile of his,” she smiled sadly. “He’d been on the case only seven weeks and he overtook me and made it to the Ceiling. On his way up he’d heard whispers of a place beyond the Ceiling; that apparently once you made the Ceiling, you then got the keys to the ‘basement’. We didn’t even know about the basement’s existence until Caine was on his way to the Ceiling. Only certain Ceiling folk know about it, and even then, it’s apparently incredibly difficult to make it inside.” Kara stared at them. “We think Caine made it into the basement. We don’t know what he saw in there, but whatever it was, it got him killed.”

  “How do you know he made it to the basement?” Mitch asked.

  “Because,” Eli Sorensen spoke up, “the last message we received from him was that he’d met some new friends, that he was off to get down and dirty and have some extra fun. Down and dirty was the code. It was his signal that he was heading for the basement.”

  “Why can’t we just get a goddamn warrant and take a look?” Beggs asked.

  “When I say ‘basement’ it’s a metaphorical term,” Kara said. “I don’t mean the literal basement of the club. It’s just a reference to an underworld that we don’t know about yet. A club or membership so exclusive, almost nobody knows it exists, let alone where it is. And those that do can’t decide if the place is just an urban legend.”

  “You didn’t give Caine a tracking device to see where he went that night?” Beggs asked.

  “We did,” Kara said, “and it cut out on the Ceiling. They’re smart. They’ve got some jamming device going on up there. As I said, it’s exclusive and this is why. The clientele have total anonymity. Caine entered the Ceiling and his tracking device went offline. We assumed it was just jammed, but, as we never picked up the signal again, we think maybe his tracking device was taken from him. We certainly didn’t find it on his person at the scene.”

  “You have no idea who did this, do you?” Mitch asked, eyes narrowed in study. “You have no idea who’s behind this at all.”

  Kara sighed. “Right now, all roads are leading to this club, the Ceiling. That’s where we believe Flyte originated from, it’s part of the scene the Chief’s daughter was hanging around, and it was where Caine spent the last night of his life.”

  “Have you got samples of the drugs?” Hernandez asked. “Ingredients? Anything we can go on to trace origin?”

  “Only in the toxicology reports of our vics. We have the base elements in their bloodstreams and we’re looking into that, but ideally we need the drug itself. We’re still trying to get our hands on some. It may be leaking onto the streets, but trust is still an issue. We think getting it via the club is our best bet.”

  “We’re possibly dealing with an entire network here,” Ford spoke up. “Firstly there’s these new drugs, then we’ve got system hacks occurring all over the place affecting our cases, that’s why Cyber are here, and god knows what else is going on. We don’t know who is involved but we smell money and power. I know everyone wants to go charging in there, but if we raid the club now, the business will simply move elsewhere. Floor to Ceiling might just be its current storefront. So before we move, we need to know everyone involved and we need hard evidence, so we can shut everything down simultaneously.”

  They all nodded in thought.

  “So,” Ford said, “moving forward, all three departments will be working together on this. We’re setting up a portal of shared information under the name Taskforce Trident, and we need more bodies undercover. Kara’s on the third floor and she’s going to keep trying to hit the Ceiling, and then the basement, whatever that is. While she does that, we’re putting more of you in there.” Ford turned to Salvi. “Brentt, I’m sending you in.” Ford then turned to Bronte. “You too, Bronte. You’re going in as a couple. A rich, bored couple looking to spice things up. As a pair, you can stay together and watch each other’s backs. Understood?”

  Salvi exchanged a look with Bronte, then caught eyes with Mitch, before looking back at Ford and nodding.

  “This isn’t just about the Chief’s missing daughter, or this new drug on the streets that’s going to send our body counts sky-high. This is now also about a cop killer,” Ford said. “And if they took out one, they won’t be shy about killing more of us. Don’t forget that.”

  “Why don’t you send more of us in?” Hernandez asked.

  “Because we don’t want to draw too much attention. We can’t flood the club. Caine may have been killed for a number of reasons, but if they found out he was a cop, then it’s too risky. That’s why we can’t send you anywhere near there, Grenville,” she said to Mitch. “If they discovered who he was, they may have trailed him and seen him with you.”

  “If that’s true, we could all be at risk,” Mitch said. “Brentt and Bronte too.”

  She stared at him a moment. “Riverton has confirmed, based on our facial recognition systems, there’s been no crossover between Caine and the other detectives out on the streets. Only you. Our AI assures us the probability of Brentt or Bronte being linked to Caine are minimal. So, it’s a chance we’re going to take.”

  “So what you’re trying to tell me is,” Hernandez said, folding his arms, “I’m not pretty enough to go in.”

  Ford looked at him, and a smile twitched at her mouth. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. The rest of us will be on standby, watching their backs and ready to move in when necessary.” Ford looked at Salvi and Bronte. “Kara’s already in there, but she can’t do this alone.”

  Salvi locked eyes with Kara.

  “Everyone clear about what we’re doing?” Ford asked. They nodded and she turned back to Salvi and Bronte. “You’ll need to pack your bags. Until this is over, you will not come into the hub or go home to your apartments again. Kara will get you up to speed on what you need to know.”

  The Chief stepped toward Salvi and Bronte. “Anything you need, I will get it for you,” he said, looking them firmly in the eye. “Be careful and watch your back… And if you find my daughter…”

  “We’ll bring her home, sir,” Salvi said.

  He gave a nod of gratitude, then Ford escorted him from the room.

  5: CLUB LYFE

  Salvi watched as the room cleared of all but Sorensen, Noble, Kara, Bronte and herself. As Mitch left, he threw Salvi a quick glance, and she could sense the hesitation within him.

  Kara moved to stand in front of Salvi and Bronte and folded her arms.

  “First thing we have to do is get you a wardrobe to work with.” She looked Salvi up and down. “You need to drop your black and white suits and get some color, honey. And you,” she looked at Bronte, “need to look expensive.”

  “You don’t like the 49ers?” Bronte asked, tugging at his t-shirt.

  “You look like you’re going to watch a game of football around your buddy’s house. Uh-uh,” she shook her head.

  “Speaking of football,” Sorensen said, “that’s going to be your back story. You used to play right?”

  Bronte nodded. “In college.”

  “You played at UCLA, had potential, but an injury cut short your career,” Eli told him. “You now work in finance. Business development.
It’s your job to wine and dine clients for your company. You just transferred here to set up an office. We need to get up to speed with the latest bars and restaurants to be seen at. We already have a dummy company set up, in case anyone checks on you.”

  Bronte nodded.

  “And you,” Sorensen said to Salvi, “are his wife. An interior decorator and mixed-media artist with a penchant for the exotic and the erotic. You need to get familiar with the art scene. Got it?”

  Salvi nodded.

  “We’ll give you some lists of places and designers to drop in conversation,” Kara said. “So you know our main target is the Floor to Ceiling nightclub, right? Well it’s owned by this man.” Kara projected an image from her iPort. The man was Caucasian, brunette, handsome, well-groomed. “This is Lance Chaney. He owns a few clubs and in the past few years has been swiftly moving up the club scene as a serious player. He’s a new threat to the old guard running the ‘Sation. He comes from money, but it seems he has a good head for business as well. So far we have not been able to tie him confidently to any known criminal figures, or any illegal activity. We’ve seen a little drug and tech dealing in his clubs, but they appear to be individual sales, not something Chaney has involvement in himself. That’s why we need to get into Ceiling and that basement to see just what’s going on in there, and if he is involved, but it’s proving hard to crack. So we’re going to have to go above and beyond to get our asses in there.”

  “On one of my cases,” Salvi said, “my vic took a picture of a group of women in the Floor to Ceiling club. I think they may have actually been on the Ceiling itself. One of the women looked to be openly wearing a neural device. Whether it was connected to an implant, I’m not sure, but if that’s the case, we can assume on the Ceiling that anything goes?”

  “Yeah,” Kara nodded. “Just about. Caine was told it was definitely a place where people could let their hair down and feel safe about not being reported for their pleasures. So, drugs, tech, you name it. Assume it’s all up for grabs up there.” Kara sighed, “I wish we knew what he saw there, but he moved so goddamned fast he hit both the Ceiling and the basement in one night, so we never got his report.”

  Salvi nodded, recalling when she’d seen Caine turn up late in the bullpen. He’d taken something from his drawer and put it in his pocket. It looked like a business card. Had it been related to his case?

  “We’ll supply you with tracking devices,” Noble said. “They’re tiny and, given what happened with Caine, we’re going to plant a second device on you both. It’s simply an emergency beacon. It stays dormant, and hence undetectable, until you activate it. We have to assume they’re scanning people for stuff like that. If they pick up and remove your active tracking device, you will hopefully still have the power to activate your dormant beacon. But you gotta pick the right time to do that. Too early, they may detect it. Too late, you’re dead.”

  The silence sat heavily in the room as Caine entered their minds.

  “Did Caine have one?” Bronte asked.

  “An emergency beacon?” Noble said. “No. Just the tracking device. We didn’t appreciate how sophisticated these criminals were. That’s why we’re looking to use alternative means to assist us this time ‘round. We’re going to deploy surveillance equipment that locks onto heat signatures and have our AIs follow them via the drones from outside the buildings, but we won’t know whether this works until we try it. For all we know the Ceiling is designed to block everything out.”

  “It has heavy security, that’s for sure,” Kara said, “and no personal comms. That’s what we learned when Caine made it through. He stepped out briefly, long enough to send us the message about heading to the basement, but that’s about all we know.”

  “So we’re going to get creative with our devices,” Noble said. “Brentt, we’re going to try hiding your tracking device in a set of digital fingernails. Bronte, we’ll put a fake tooth in your wisdom cavity and hide one there. You get the picture.”

  Bronte nodded and Kara exhaled heavily.

  “We’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said. “It’s taken me weeks to get to level 3, but I’m just a small-time drug dealer. Caine going in as a pretty boy big spender seemed to work. So that’s what we’re doing with you two. You go in, flash your cash, show you’re not scared to push the limits of what you call fun. Hopefully, that’ll open some doors.”

  They nodded again.

  “Alright,” Sorensen said. “Pack your bags and settle into your new digs, see Kara about your wardrobe, and load up on caffeine, because we’re sending you in tonight.”

  Salvi stood at the window of her temporary apartment, looking down on the street below.

  “Nice neighborhood,” Bronte said, coming to stand beside her as he rubbed his jaw.

  “Yeah,” Salvi nodded, her eyes drifting to her real apartment barely three blocks away. Mitch was the only one who knew she had come from money and that she had an apartment like that; purchased with an inheritance from her evangelist parents.

  “One can dream about living in a place like this,” he said, rubbing his jaw again.

  Salvi studied him.

  “You got off lightly,” he said, motioning to her set of digital nails, glinting in the lights. They looked like someone had smashed up a mirror ball and pressed the crushed glass onto her fingernails. She had no idea where exactly the tracking device was hidden, but it was in there somewhere. “They actually attached a fake tooth to my jaw,” he said. “Like, they fucking rigged it into my actual jaw.”

  “I guess it’s gotta look real, right?” she shrugged.

  Salvi turned around and viewed the plush open-plan floor of the apartment before her. It had been a hive of activity when they’d first arrived, as a staging crew finished decorating it in line with their covers. Exotic digital art now hung on the walls, and here and there were football trophies and images of Bronte’s face expertly superimposed on footballer’s bodies.

  “Alright,” Kara said, entering as the last of the stagers departed. She lay down an armful of wardrobe supplies. “Salvi, wear this dress tonight,” she pointed to a neon green number. “Bronte, these pants, this shirt, only button it halfway, show some chest. Got it?”

  “Well, now I feel like a piece of meat,” he said dryly.

  “That’s exactly what you are, honey. Bait on a hook.”

  Bronte grunted as he took his clothes and vanished into his allocated bedroom. Salvi held up her dress in study.

  “Is this the whole thing?” she asked.

  Kara smiled. “Get dressed, detective.”

  Salvi pulled the hem of her dress down as far as it would go, which was only upper thigh. She sighed and stared at her heavily made-up face in the bathroom mirror.

  “I do not feel comfortable chasing bad guys in this,” she said, stepping back out into the apartment’s living area where Kara and Bronte waited.

  Bronte whistled, but it turned into a chuckle as he saw Salvi’s unimpressed face.

  “You’re not chasing the bad guys,” Kara said, moving toward her. “The point is for them to chase you.” Salvi turned away to look at herself in the arty full-length mirror on the wall. The dress had a wide, low cut chest area, but it was at least covered in a bright green neon mesh that offered her some modesty. The short skirt had a split up the side that went all the way to her hipbone. She longed desperately for one of her suits as Kara dropped a pair of sky-high heels on the floor beside her.

  Salvi looked at the shoes then at Kara with a flat stare.

  “Relax,” Kara said, “you need to make an entrance. We want you to be noticed and we want people to want to get to know you. The only way you’ll go up the floors is if they want to take you away from everyone else and keep you for themselves.” Kara straightened the top of Salvi’s dress. “Turn on the lights.” Salvi looked at her, confused, then at the apartments lights that were already on. “Inside,” Kara said, then fished her fingers down the front of Salvi’s dress. Suddenly neon l
ights that were built into the dress illuminated the wire mesh across her chest.

  “Woah…” Salvi said.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” Kara smiled. “Like I said, it’ll get you the attention you need.” She turned to Bronte and motioned him closer, “Come here.” Bronte moved to stand next to Salvi. He looked equally uncomfortable in his tight synthetic trousers that didn’t leave much to the imagination, and white collared shirt, unbuttoned to the top of his six pack.

  “Hey!” Kara said, looking at them both. “You like this shit, remember?” motioning to the clothes. “You’re from LA, new to town and looking to meet some people to get down with. Open marriage and all that. Alright? Sex sells, and no place more so than in Floor to Ceiling. Now let’s get moving!” She walked off, slapping Bronte on the ass as she did. He gave her an unamused look, then turned back to Salvi.

  She stared at him a moment then sighed. “We’re doing this for Caine, and to find the Chief’s daughter.”

  Bronte’s face fell a moment and he nodded silently, before forcing himself to perk up again.

  “Shall we?” he said, holding his hand out.

  “I can’t wait,” Salvi said flatly.

  As the autocab drove along the busy streets, Salvi looked out its windows and watched the city zoom past. While the sky above was dark now, the city was bright with neon lights and blinking LEDs. For the first time she noticed just how much of that light was made of Bio-Lume. Attis Solme was clearly making a lot of money off his product; off his free labor from the Subjugates and Serenes at the Complex. As the Bio-Lume-lit buildings passed by, she noted they had an other-worldly feel to them. She cast her mind back to her time at the Solme Complex; of the green glow that warmed its passageways, of the claustrophobic pipe she’d found herself in, swimming through the bacteria gel on her fight for freedom. She pictured Subjugate-52 covered neck to toes in the glowing neon green gel, lighting up the darkened factory like some radioactive man. Then she pictured the green glow upon his face, mixing with the red flashing light of his personal alarm as he stared at her.