The Sensation

by Amanda Bridgeman

  “You never tried it?” he seemed surprised.

  She shook her head. “I’d been meaning to, but then The Crash happened, and…” she shrugged.

  “And you still want to, given what happened?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Don’t we all want what we can’t have?”

  He laughed. “Well, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “Oh, I have the will,” she smiled, then glanced back as the woman made her way inside her veiled section again. “I heard people can connect direct to the VR rooms with those things. Is that true?”

  “Apparently. We have VR booths down the corridor, so they don’t need the tech for that.”

  She smiled. “I’ve had fun in U-Stasis before. You tried it?”

  He nodded. “It’s not my thing.”

  “No? What is?”

  “Why have virtual sex when you can have the real thing?”

  “Yeah, but not everyone can. Some people don’t have time or find it hard to meet people. I mean, I gotta admit, it’s alright. I tried it,” she lied. She’d been inside U-Stasis with Mitch, of course, but they’d been working their last case at the time, not playing around. “But I agree, it’s not the same thing.”

  “Why enter someone else’s program when you can create your own? I guess that’s the benefit of neural tech. The world is real, the tech just enhances the experience.”

  “That sounds interesting… And exciting.”

  His eyes shone back at hers, but he said nothing.

  She looked back to the veiled section the woman disappeared behind. “So where would I go to… have an enhanced experience?”

  “You really want to try it?”

  She nodded. “Overturn my one regret? Sure. Imagine what art that would inspire.” She studied him curiously. “You ever tried it?”

  “Back when it was legal. Sure.”

  “I feel so sheltered,” she pouted.

  “You were hanging in the wrong circles.”

  “Clearly.” She finished her drink, picked up a strawberry between her fingers and took a sensual bite. “So,you haven’t tried it since?”

  “Are you asking me to implicate myself in illegal, sordid behavior?”

  She chuckled. “Sordid? What, were you fucking animals or something?”

  “Not my thing.”

  “Children?”

  He shook his head. “If I knew anyone doing either of those things, I’d hand them over to the cops myself. Confidentiality be damned.”

  She ate the last strawberry, eyeing him seductively. “So… I think you know where I can try some enhancement of my own, but you’re not sharing. That’s a little selfish. Keeping it for yourself.”

  He smiled but took a sip instead of answering. She smiled back.

  “Would you like to show me personally? Is that it? Is that why you’re being coy?”

  “No… I mean… maybe. I do think you should sleep on it, however. It’s not a decision to be taken lightly.”

  “You’re being protective of me…” she said, tilting her head on the side playfully, analyzing him.

  “Just making sure you know what you’re saying.”

  She leaned forward. “I’ve been around the block a couple of times, trust me. I may look sweet and innocent–”

  “You don’t look sweet and innocent at all.”

  “Oh? And how do I look then?”

  He paused a moment, staring at her. “You look sexy. And daring.”

  She smiled. “I told you, vanilla is boring. I want to have fun. I want to take a ride on the edge. I want to feel I’m alive. My art would be nothing without it.”

  Another woman entered the Ceiling then. Androgynous in look with short dark hair and wearing a tailored suit, she walked swiftly toward Chaney. She bent down and whispered in his ear. Chaney nodded and stood.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go, but please,” he motioned to the room, “enjoy yourself.”

  “You’re going to build me up then let me down?”

  “Consider this a tour. If you enjoy tonight, we can sign you up for a permanent membership tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the membership.”

  He smiled at her. “Oh, that... I think you should sleep on it,” he said, then turned and left the Ceiling.

  Salvi let her disappointment show. She glanced around again and found a pair of eyes watching her. She paused upon recognizing him. It was the ponytail guy from a few nights ago, the one who’d been staring at her on the first floor. He finished his drink, then stood and headed for the exit.

  Who the hell was he?

  Kara shook her head in wonder. “Jesus Christ, he’s going to take you to the basement. Chaney himself. Just like that!”

  “Salvi’s got the moves,” Bronte grinned.

  “I worked a lot of bars when I was younger,” Salvi said. “Maybe not as fancy as these, but you see one rich guy with power, you’ve seen them all. Stroke their ego, give ‘em a little attention, but also play a little hard to get. Works every time. They like a challenge. They like to conquer.”

  “Just so long as they don’t conquer any more of my officers,” Ford said, not finding any amusement in her words.

  Salvi dropped her smile. “He won’t.”

  “That is, if it’s even him,” Kara said. “I mean, with all the heat on the street, would he take someone he doesn’t really know and show them his secret kingdom?”

  “Depends how much he wants to get Salvi into bed,” Bronte said.

  “And it depends if he has the means to erase any mistakes he makes,” Salvi said, her words settling heavy in the room.

  “Just remember,” Noble said, breaking the silence, “get into the open, use the compact to trigger your emergency beacon and we’ll swoop in and get you. It lays dormant until you trigger it. Open once to activate it, twice to signal the emergency, three times to disengage.”

  “I’ll have the team on standby,” Ford said. “All of ‘em. We’ll start the tracking device in your nails the second you leave the apartment tonight. We’ll follow you closely. Regardless, you have the power to trigger the beacon yourself, like Noble said. You even sniff a little trouble, give us the signal and we’ll swarm the motherfucker like nothing he’s ever seen before.”

  “And Brentt,” Noble said, “there’s something you should know.”

  “What?”

  “We tried to have the drones follow you last night. They can’t see into the building, can’t pick up your heat signature, nothing. The whole building was designed so we can’t see what happens inside. Once you enter the Ceiling, we’re blind to you.”

  “So the second you leave the Ceiling,” Ford said, “if you sniff trouble-”

  “I will,” Salvi said firmly.

  Ford stepped closer. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  Salvi nodded. “I got this. Let’s find Caine’s killer, and let’s find out what happened to Clare.”

  Salvi took one last look in the mirror. She wore a purple dress with a long slit up the side and was displaying the most décolletage she had since she’d met Chaney. Yet, still, it was a dress she could easily move in, should the need arise. Kara had dressed her in as much metallic and tech-looking jewelry as she could find, from a large upper arm piece to a webbed finger-to-wrist bracelet. They matched nicely with her thick digital nails adorned with the crushed mirrored glass.

  “If this doesn’t get me into the basement, I don’t know what will,” she said to herself.

  Her burner phone rang. She picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Use the compact, no matter how small the threat.” It was Mitch.

  She exhaled softly. “I will. I got this.”

  “I mean it, Salvi.”

  “I know, Mitch. I’m not going into this lightly. Caine is dead. I haven’t forgotten that. And I haven’t forgotten what happened last time I went in alone. Trust me.”

  He sighed with clear concern. “W
e’ll be waiting,” he said. “We’ll be watching you as best we can, but once you enter that club, maybe even that basement, we’re blind unless you–”

  “Mitch, I know,” she said.

  “Salvi… you know I can’t handle that again.”

  She knew he was referring to his slain former girlfriend. The one whose killer had never been found.

  “And you won’t have to,” she said, wondering if Caine’s death had derailed Mitch’s emotional recovery from that. “I will use my back up,” she reassured him. “I won’t try to be a hero. I won’t go it alone. I promise.”

  Silence hung over the line for what seemed like an age.

  “Just stay safe,” he finally said.

  “You too,” she replied.

  He ended the call and she looked up to see Bronte standing there.

  “Don’t let him rattle you,” he said firmly, stepping toward her. “Don’t even think about him, Salvi. You focus on Chaney and what you got to do tonight. You keep your eyes and ears open and get the evidence, the leads, we need to find out who is the behind this shit. We need to find Caine’s killer. We need to find out what happened to the Chief’s daughter. That takes priority, so keep your head in the game, alright?”

  She gave a firm nod, took a deep breath in, and exhaled.

  “I’m ready, coach. Send me in.”

  Salvi wasn’t sure whether she should wait on the first floor again, but she decided to test whether she could make her way up alone without a pass. She gave her name to the security and he turned and pulled back the velvet curtain to allow her through. Chaney had granted Salvi the freedom to move around at will, right to the top.

  She’d left her burner phone at the apartment so there was nothing to give the coat check girl other than a look into her purse. She headed straight to the bar with the overlooking angel and ordered, this time from a female bartender wearing neural devices.

  “You get to play with those much?” Salvi asked, motioning to the devices as the woman prepared her drink.

  The woman smiled, though it was hard to tell if it reached her eyes, as all Salvi saw were the lenses. “Sometimes.”

  “Are they fun?” Salvi asked.

  The woman grinned like she knew a secret. “You have no idea.”

  “What’s your name?” Salvi asked.

  “Anamatrix,” she smiled.

  “Well, Anamatrix,” Salvi said, “you’ll have to tell me about them some time.”

  “That can be arranged… for a price,” she winked, then moved to another customer who had registered for her services.

  Salvi took her drink and made her way to the open lounge. As she approached one table, despite the dim lighting, she couldn’t help noticing the gentleman sitting two tables away. It was Senator William Aitken. He was looking down at a small data pane, so he didn’t see the double-take Salvi gave him. She quickly turned away, making a smooth arc and sat as far from him as possible. Not because she thought he would recognize her – they didn’t know each other – but because she wanted to watch his every move from afar, undetected. After all, this was the guy she’d seen on her TV just days before, taking part in the debate on making neural tech legal again. He’d remained fairly neutral throughout the debate, she recalled, but that didn’t make her any less intrigued by his open presence here tonight.

  She sipped her drink, glancing at the Senator every now and then, wondering who he was meeting, and whether that data pane of his had connectivity in here. Had a member invited him here as a guest, perhaps to show him the other side of the argument? Or was the Senator already a regular here? Did he come here purely for the anonymity the club promised him, to stay away from the prying eyes of the media?

  She continued to glance around the room, her eyes constantly drawn to the entrance to see who was arriving. She subtly watched as an actor from a popular show entered with a real estate billionaire and took one of the private glassed booths – the kind where they could still be seen. Salvi had to admit, the clientele here was something else. She was definitely going to have to step up her game and act like she belonged here with these people.

  “Are you waiting for Lance?” a smooth male voice asked.

  Salvi looked up to see the young, dark blond guy that Chaney had said hello to the previous evening. He stood around 5’11 with a swimmer’s physique and weighed maybe 190lbs.

  “I am,” she smiled.

  “A word of warning,” he said, leaning on the back of the chair opposite hers, “he’s notoriously late.”

  “Yes,” she chuckled. “I’m coming to understand that.”

  “Would you like some company until he arrives?”

  “Sure,” Salvi said, motioning to the seat, which he pulled out and made himself comfortable in. He looked to be early twenties at best, maybe even still in college. Regardless, it was a handsome face with a strong jaw and blue eyes that still managed to stand out in the dim light. College or not, he seemed to handle himself with a poise and grace that showed a maturity beyond his apparent years.

  “Sarah Parson,” she said, extending her hand to his. He took it and kissed her hand like some 19th century romantic lead. Or maybe a vampire.

  “Tom Bradley,” he said. “At your service.”

  “At my service? So are you a client here or do you work for Lance?”

  He gave a laugh, flashing a mouth full of straight white teeth. “Oh, no, I’m a client. One of his best, if I do say so myself.”

  “One of his best, huh? So have you earned your fortune young or are you a trust fund baby?”

  His smile flickered a moment, unsure how to take her statement. She leaned forward as though telling him a secret.

  “I’m a trust fund baby,” she whispered, then held her index finger up to her lips.

  His smile steadied and he gave a laugh. “Oh, well, I guess I’m a trust fund baby too, but I actually run my own business, so I have no need for the trust, if you get my meaning.”

  “Congratulations on breaking the mold.”

  “Ah!” Chaney’s voice sounded as he arrived at their table. “I see Mr. Bradley’s been keeping you company.”

  “He has,” Salvi smiled, as Tom stood.

  “One should never keep a beautiful woman waiting, Lance,” he said.

  Chaney laughed politely. “Thanks, Tom. I’ll take it from here.”

  Tom Bradley gave a bow to Salvi, then moved off toward the bar.

  “He’s obviously a regular,” Salvi said to Chaney.

  “He is,” Chaney took a seat. “And if you leave a date for five minutes, he’s in there lavishing them with his charm.”

  Salvi laughed. “Oh, he’s just young. They’re insecure and feel the need to fuck everything that moves in order to feel accomplished.”

  Chaney laughed back. “Indeed they do, but I’m glad he kept you entertained.”

  “He claims to be one of your best customers.”

  “He is a regular patron of the Ceiling. He likes to come and splash his cash, but we’ll see if that holds up next year when his conservative father cuts him off now college is over.”

  “Oh dear,” Salvi laughed. “He told me he runs his own business. Sounds like the poor boy’s in for hard life lessons.”

  “He might as well live it up while daddy’s paying.”

  Salvi watched as another pair of glamazonian women walked in, each with legs that seemed to travel from floor to ceiling. She sighed dramatically. “I feel so average among this company. I mean, artists are normally poor, right? I don’t suppose you get many here.”

  “Your husband must be doing well.”

  She smiled. “He works in finance. He’s good with his money, allows me to be the creative one. But it’s all my parents’ fault, you see. They had money and accustomed me to this lifestyle.”

  “Poor baby,” Chaney laughed. She sipped her drink while he stared at her.

  “So,” she said.

  “So?” he said, in study.

  “I slept on it.�
��

  “Slept on what?” he said teasingly.

  “On what we discussed.”

  “Oh really? And?”

  “And,” she said, “it was hard to sleep for thinking about it, to be honest.” She glanced over to the bartender. “Anamatrix tells me you can have a lot of fun with it.”

  Chaney glanced over to the bar, then back to her. “She gave you specifics?”

  “No.”

  “So how do you know you want it? You don’t know what it is they do.”

  “Not exactly, but I have an imagination. Besides, the way you’re teasing it, makes me want it more. Is this a sales tactic of yours? It is, isn’t it? It’s just like this club where people have to prove themselves in order to get to the Ceiling. You like watching people jump through your hoops. Like dangling a carrot before the horse. It is a sales tactic.”

  “No. I’m not in sales. I’m merely a connoisseur of exclusive safe spaces.”

  “Exclusive safe spaces… That, right there, is a sales pitch.”

  Chaney grinned.

  “Alright,” Salvi said. “You got me. I’m hooked. So what do I have to do to give it a try? Pay a large fee? I can afford that.”

  “Can you?”

  She shrugged, then laughed. “Hey, look, if you’re not comfortable, we can drop this. I don’t want to push you somewhere you’re not ready to go.”

  “Oh, I’m very comfortable. But you’re right, it costs, and there are other technicalities that need to be addressed first.”

  “Such as?”

  “If you want to give it a try, you can’t do it here. There’s another… place, that very few know about. I could take you there as my guest, and if you liked it, we could arrange another membership. But, in order to visit that place, you need to sign this first.” He pulled out a small wafer-thin data pane and slid it across the table to her. She picked it up and scanned the document before her.

  “What’s this? An NDA? I need to sign an NDA?”

  Chaney nodded.

  “Wow…”

  He shrugged. “It’s an ultra-elite exclusive club. We take privacy very seriously. That’s why our guests pay what they do.” He paused and analyzed her. “I don’t normally tell people about this place so soon. I hardly know you… I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.”