Neon Helix

by Nik Whittaker

  As Julian walked in, the sound of Nordic Trance music filled his ears, the modern mix of chants and electronic beats completing the experience. He smiled, he liked this bar.

  Julian slid onto a barstool at the bar, which ran parallel to the great table, a low holographic fire ran the length of the bar top, as though someone had set fire to it. He ran his hand through the mock flames as they danced between his fingers and he scanned the spirit options on the shelves. Many alcohols were synthetic now because of a lack of harvests from crops, though most people couldn’t tell the difference between them, the copies were so good. The woman behind the bar made her way over to him, she was wearing a classic viking outfit of brown leather and her short hair, bleached white, with one long braid hanging down her right side. A tribal tattoo over her right eye finished the look.

  “What can I get ya?” She smiled, brushing the braid to the side as she spoke.

  “What’s the best?” Julian asked, not meaning to sound cocky but somehow succeeding.

  A forced smile came from the waitress.

  “Well, the Fenrir Mead is always a winner,” she said, as she pointed at a bottle behind her. The logo of a wolf on the bottle animated and roared out in three-dimensions.

  “Sounds good,” he replied.

  “Great,” she spun on the spot and pulled down the bottle.

  Julian leaned onto the bar and scanned the room, his seating was optimal for a full view of the room and all its customers. He was here for more than just a drink. Being in the middle of the Boulevard, this was the spot where the class districts merged, in the exact centre of Giga. This was where the most interesting stories were usually found.

  “Here ya go Hun,” the waitress returned and put the drink down on the table. “Anything else?”

  “I’m good for now thank you, Miss…”

  “Call me Ally.”

  “Ally, nice to meet you,” Julian smiled and held eye contact slightly longer than normal. There was something about her he couldn’t put his finger on, but he found her intriguing.

  “Likewise,” she held eye contact, before another customer took her attention away and she gave a sympathetic smile.

  Julian took a sip of the mead, it tasted sweet with a fiery kick at the end. He glanced around the room; a couple on a date in one of the side booths, a lone drinker at the bar. Near the throne, there was a large table of suits. He focused his eyes on them; they were celebrating something. A few moments, later he was making his way past the table and eavesdropped on the conversation.

  “This time tomorrow my friends, we will be millionaires!” One of them kept chanting. “Yuri is making it all happen!”

  Julian smiled, his luck paying off once more. He knew that where there was a big unveiling from Cy-Bio, celebrating low ranks would be out and about. He tapped his PDA twice, adjusting his hair, making it slightly more disheveled and a speech modulation making his voice slightly slurred.

  “Say guys, what's the party,” he tripped into the table as he walked.

  “To millions, my friend!” The loudmouth of the group shouted at him. “Join us, join us, drinks are on us!” he laughed.

  Julian took a seat, one more tap on his PDA activated it to record, he wasn't risking missing anything from the conversation. Settling down, he took a shot of a drink offered to him and let the night take him away.

  Several drinks later, Julian broached the topic.

  “So, what’s happening at this lunch, I mean launch,” his modulation causing deliberate speech aphasia.

  “Ah, we aren’t really allowed to talk about it,” said Gerry, the loudmouth who Julian had now befriended.

  “Ooh I see,” Julian said, tapping his nose, “my lips are sealed.”

  He poured a shot of mead for both him and Gerry and held the glasses in a toast and they both downed the shots.

  “Well, OK, basically, we’ve developed a new system,” he began, the alcohol heavy in his speech, “which will allow anyone having augmentation implements, augmented wirelessly into them, using nanotech.”

  Julian took a second to process what was being said, deciphering the alcoholic phrasing.

  “Wireless augmentation?” Julian asked for clarity.

  “Yup, you get one injection of self-replicating nanotechnology from CyberBio and then ‘poof’ it's all done,” his hands animated the words.

  Julian tapped his PDA, reducing his blood-alcohol levels to allow himself some clear thinking. This was a huge leap in Cybernetic-Bio programming. To allow a body to augment without the need for any direct contact. The implications were huge.

  “But shhhhh you know nothing haha!” Before Julian could ask Gerry another question, the table erupted in another cheer as Ally brought another round of SynthAle tankards and bottles of mead. She glanced at Julian with a raised eyebrow.

  Julian made an excuse to leave the table and headed to the bathroom. Then, instead he went back towards the bar.

  “Didn’t take you as a TerraCity Suit,” Ally remarked as he sat down. The bar was mostly deserted now, as the rowdiness of the crowded table continued to alienate other customers.

  “Most astute of you,” Julian replied, “just doing some research.”

  “Oh, what are you, a reporter then?” Ally wiped the bar down, the holo-flames flickering in mock protest.

  “Two for two, you’re not a psychic are you?”

  “Mm, like I’d tell you if I was,” she smiled back as she placed a glass of liquid in front of Julian and poured herself one. “Cheers, this is the good stuff” She raised a glass and Julian reciprocated and they downed the drink. He coughed as the liquid burned his throat.

  “What is that?” he asked, once he could access his vocal chords again.

  “Surtr’s Wrath, strongest mead there is this side of the Boulevard,” she winked. “So, tell me Mr..?”

  “Travitz, but call me Julian,” he smiled.

  “Mr Julian Travitz, that rings a bell. What is it you’re researching? The alcoholic routines of the TerraCity elite?”

  “Hah. Not them, but the work they are doing. Trying to find that next big case, something to get me back on the wagon so to speak.”

  “You fell off it?”

  “My last big story lead to some unfortunate consequences shall we say.”

  “Oh do tell,” Ally walked round to the front of the bar and pulled up a stool, after checking the bar for customers, “unfortunate are always the most interesting of consequences.”

  Julian took a sip from the glass.

  “My research into the MPD found a lot of tampered evidence at the main precinct in Giga. I was mainly doing the investigation to help a friend who I knew was innocent.”

  “What were they being done for?” Ally asked.

  “He’d been put away for an assault on a shop owner, but they had staged it so that the shop owner would have to ask for protection money from the Sliders. The evidence was fabricated so that they saw my friend as a Slider, when he had just been shopping there.”

  Ally nodded, the Sliders always seem to have alibis for their crimes when under investigation.

  “So I exposed the corrupt officer in the department when I found Credits linking him with the Sliders. Only in doing that, all the cases where the evidence he had handled became subject to probable doubt. Next thing around they dropped twenty cases.”

  “Ouch,” Ally physically winced.

  “Yep, the worst of which, Peter Henshaw, got away free.”

  “I heard about that!” Ally said, “He killed people right?”

  “That’s the one, mind wiping people and leaving them for dead. Released on the day of his trial.”

  “Didn’t he get attacked?”

  “Uh-huh, Alexander Draven, the arresting officer beat him nearly to death on the steps. Lost his job for it too. All because of me.”

  “Hey, you didn’t know that would happen. Don’t beat yourself up about it!” Ally said. “And you were helping your friend.”

  �
��Yeah, I know” Julian didn’t sound convinced as he downed his drink.

  The bar picked up and Ally had to get back to work, Julian had another drink and continued to talk to Ally between customers. He hadn’t spoken about the expose with anyone since it happened and he liked that he felt he could open to Ally. It felt good to get it out.

  An hour, later Ally’s shift finished.

  “Want to grab a bite?” She asked Julian as she was about to get her things.

  “Sure,” he got up to leave.

  Outside, the midnight air was fresh and a chill hit them both, Ally put her arm into Julian's and pulled him closer for warmth. The lights, still as bright as midday, were becoming muted as a dull fog descended over the city.

  “There’s this nice diner I know just a few streets down,” Ally said, directing him.

  From the side of a shop, they heard a scream, and a woman came running out from the alleyway. Heading directly towards them, the look in her eyes of pure fear.

  “Hey hey hey what’s wrong?” Julian put a hand up to stop her.

  “He’s dead!” She screamed and fell to the floor.

  “Look after her,” he said to Ally as he went to investigate.

  A tap on his PDA and a light beam emitted from his wrist, illuminating the path in front of him. He also dialled up adrenaline.

  Down the alleyway, he could see a lump of clothes. On closer inspection, he realised it was a man, laying face up with his eyes wide and frozen. It didn’t take long for Julian to realise that the man was dead.

  CHAPTER 11

  Xander

  It had been almost a year since Xander had been at the precinct. He remembered the route like the back of his hand, having done the trip daily for several years. Situated just off the Boulevard near MegaTown, he pulled the car up just before the station itself.

  “I’m going to need you to stay here.”

  Ava protested with a look of anger at Xander.

  “If there is something going on with this case and they see you, they’ll shut up tighter than a clam. I need to get the information without them suspecting anything.’

  “Fine, but don’t be long,” she resigned and settled down in the seat.

  Xander pulled the door of the car up, the hiss of the hydraulics echoed out. The car was one of the few things he’d held onto when he lost his career. Taking a moment, he looked around the area, it had changed little. Graffiti covered the walls opposite the station, mostly in protest of something or other. The station itself was an old block style building which had never had a lick of paint, never mind a refurbishment, in several years. The ‘MPD’ sign was lit in bright white neon, illuminating the street below. Xander liked the look, made it feel worn but hardy, it reminded him of himself.

  As he walked up to the entrance, he stepped aside as a young couple shoved past him; the man looked drunk, obviously been charged for some minor infraction. With his right hand, he pushed the door inwards, and the chaos of the station flooded his senses.

  The noise, like a million voices all talking at once, hit him first. The main area of the office was open plan, from behind the reception desk, Xander could see desk after desk, where different people were talking to officers. Some were criminals, some informants and some just people of interest in cases. It amazed Xander that in this technological age, there wasn’t something more high-tech to perform these tasks, but there was no replacing face-to-face interviews to find out information.

  He realized how much he missed the organized chaos of the station; he took a deep breath and took it all in.

  “Draven? Is that you?” The voice brought him back to earth. It came from the officer behind the desk. A well-built man of middle age, who wouldn’t have been out of place as a bouncer, which was pretty much what he was in the precinct.

  “Hey Mike, yeah it’s me. Long time no see,” Xander greeted him with a firm handshake.

  “What brings you to paradise?” Mike asked, only a touch of suspicion.

  “Questions, Mike."

  “Ah, you still trying the PI business? How’s it working out for you?”

  “Slow, if I’m honest, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta, right?”

  “Well, I’m all ears, Your name still carries weight around here Xander. Lot of people respect you for what you did, regardless of the outcome. I can’t promise anything though, you know that.”

  “I appreciate that Mike,” Xander felt a surge of emotion at the words, “anything would be great. Information on a Maxwell Owens, dead husband.”

  Mike’s smile dropped, his eyes staring directly at Xander.

  “You don’t want to be asking that one, Xander.”

  Xander paused, the comment giving him all the momentum he needed to keep going.

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Man, I can’t. There's a complete lock down on that case, came from the big bosses from the TerraCity HQ. Seriously, a complete blackout.”

  Xander’s mind raced, TerraHQ never got involved in cases which came through the precinct, this must be something huge.

  “Jeez Mike, what’s going on? Is it really that serious?”

  “No-one knows, you remember Donovan? Used to work homicide?” Xander nodded, he’d been one of the good ones. “He was assigned to the case, next thing you know, he’s on garden leave and the case gets blacked out. None of us have even heard from Donovan since, it’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth, along with all the files. Since then, it’s like the whole thing never happened. Donovan was the one you’d have spoken to, if he was still here.”

  Mike looked Xander straight in the eye as he spoke, Xander nodded, picking up the hint.

  “Donovan? Didn’t he live in the Somerset Complex?”

  “‘Yeah that’s right, number 91,” Mike replied. “If you see him, tell him I said hi.”

  “Will do, thanks Mike, you take care.”

  “You too Xander.”

  Mike turned to deal with some junkies, who were being brought in by an officer. Xander held the door as they came through, before heading back out into the street.

  Walking back towards the car, he watched Ava from a distance, she was observing the street and the surrounding people. It occurred to him, she maybe had never really been out further afield than the apartment complex she lived in, and her only knowledge of the world, was from implanted memories. How would the world look to someone with memories of a world they'd never seen firsthand? Like a child experiencing a story in real life. As he got to the car, she hardly noticed him arrive, as she watched a group of youths hanging around the opposite side of the road. They were getting a synthetic high by hooking their cerebral augmentations up to a memory node, which gave them the experience of varying drugs, without effecting their biological systems. The problem was that the addiction was still there, and the mental repercussions still existed in those who fell too far.

  Xander tapped on the window, expecting Ava to jump, but she just turned to look at Xander as he opened the door.

  “How did you know I was there?” He asked

  “I didn't, if you're implying why I didn’t react to the tapping, I simply acknowledged the sound. I don’t have the fight-or-flight response you do for reacting to such stimuli.”

  “Ya know, sometimes I can’t believe you’re not human, then you go and say something like that,” Xander muttered as he pulled the car away from the curb.

  “Did you find anything,” Ava asked, ignoring the comment.

  “Nothing about the case itself, but I know where we need to go next. A Detective named Donovan was working the case, the files have been locked down but he’ll have answers in his head, which they can’t lock away.”

  Ava turned her head to the side for a moment.

  “Donovan, Lance. Residence 91, Somerset Complex.” She turned to Xander, who had a puzzled look on his face, “My implants can connect to the Net.”

  “Right, that’s useful I guess.”

  The Comple
x wasn’t far from the precinct; the area was much the same. The complex itself was a grey brick high rise, without many frills. Xander and Ava walked up to the building and entered.

  “Donovan was a good cop, smart too,” Xander said as he pressed the button to the lift.

  Arriving at apartment 91, Xander stopped at the door. It was plain wood in a corridor of similar styles. He hit the intercom button that was at the side of the frame.

  “Hello, can I help you,” a woman's voice crackled through the speaker.

  “We’re here to see Mr Donovan?” Xander asked politely, though confusion entered his voice.

  “Oh, I see, we weren’t expecting any visitors.”

  A minute later, a lady arrived at the door, she was wearing a nurse uniform.

  “Mr Donovan has been responsive today so you might be in luck,” she said, as she allowed them to follow her inside.

  “Responsive? What do you mean?” Xander asked, as they entered the living room of the apartment.

  The nurse smiled sympathetically. Before she could reply, they saw the wheelchair in the centre of the room, it was facing the large television screen which was showing an old movie. In the chair sat a young man with a blanket over his legs.

  “Yes, do you not know? Mr Donovan has been suffering from severe cognitive disorientation for the past month. I thought you were here to see how he was doing?” The nurse took her turn to be confused.

  “What illness?” Ava asked.

  “He is lost in his own mind I fear, he occasionally surfaces, but not for long.”

  Xander walked over to the wheelchair and crouched in front of Donovan, so that he was eye level. Donovan was looking directly through Xander.

  “Lance? Hey buddy, you in there?”

  Donovan's eyes moved and slowly focused onto Xander’s. They widened in both horror and excitement as recognition sunk in.

  “Xan… der?” Donovan struggled to let the words out.

  “Yeah, it’s me Lance,” He rested a hand on Donovan's knee. “What happened to you, man?”