“A fine observation, Gal,” Mel said.
“Why, thank you, Plastic. What we need to do…”
They both waited for her to work it out.
She thought out loud. “It’s a fleshware problem.”
“A what?”
“It’s what we call problems that arise from human stupidity. The hardware works, the software is bug-free, but the problem lies in the user. Fleshware is when people jot down passwords on sticky notes on the monitor, when they plug in things where they shouldn’t be, or, and this is our situation right here, when they reject a new system just because they’ve been too accustomed to the old one. You see it every day, we try to install newer, faster, safer systems and the employees kick up a riot and demand for the old one back.” She looked at Mel. “The code is fine, the tech is fine, but humans are the problem.”
“Happens quite often,” Mel agreed with an ugly smile.
Greg nodded. “I see your point. Okay, what can we do to change that?”
Gal went quiet. Then she played around with her ice cream for a bit. Why had she bought that ice cream? Cause it was delicious, yeah. And cause someone else was paying for it, sure. But why had she decided to switch from her regular chocolate ice cream to this fancy, unknown flavour?
It was quite obvious, when she thought about it. It was the cherry on top.
“How much of an advertising budget can we get?”
Greg shrugged. “Right now? Dunno. About one-hundred-thousand, maybe.”
Gal mouthed the words. “One-hundred-what? Seriously? And I just get access to it, right now?”
“I can ask for approval, yes. Do you want me to?” Mel said.
Gal turned to her. “Fuck, yes!”
Half a second passed. “Done. Please check your-”
“I see it.” Gal interjected and then went into frantic mode. It all made sense. If she just targeted the Teucrinos with advertisements about Hermes, flooded their timelines with articles underlining Artemis’ feminism, and then injected an idea about the augmented Olympians in their discussion groups, and then…
Yeah. This might work.
Chapter 43: Galene @ 1.8x nhs
Greg snuggled with her in their hotel bed. It was very late, or quite early, depending on how you looked at it.
“No… I’m too tired for sexy-fun-times,” she complained, pushing him away with her butt. “I don’t care how you’re used to, mister, I’m not one of the easy ones. If you don’t like it, feel free to phone a call girl.”
“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”
She clicked her tongue. “Nope.”
“It’s alright, I just wanna hold you.” He breathed in the scent of her hair.
She spun around to face him. “Are you even real?”
“It’s called being a gentleman. Plus, I adore you.”
She kissed him on the lips. “Do you think it will work?”
“We’ll see. Your angle is good.”
“I thought my curves were good.”
“I thought you were too tired for fun-times.”
She tsked. “That was before you said you adored me, silly.”
The street outside Abuela’s apartment was packed with people. Not just any sort of people, Teucrinos. Mega-fans of a specific athlete, that could collectively move mountains for him.
“Wow. You sure like to spend money, don’t you? I need to remember to never give you my credit card,” Greg said, watching the buses.
“It’s marketing,” Gal said in a ‘duh’ voice.
“The Return-On-Investment should be quite good,” Mel said, next to them.
“See? Even the Plastic agrees with me.”
The Teucrinos got fancy new buses to move them around to Teucer’s appearances. They also got a barrage of articles that attenuated Artemis’ feminism. That was something you usually ignored when someone gave you money, but in a traditional culture like Pontevedra it was a sore point. It was enough to make them pick the other guy that gave them money, namely, Hermes.
Abuela was talking to people, right in the middle of the fanbase. They were really excited. So, like any European does when he finds an excuse, they threw a party.
Abuela glanced at the couple, and gave them a slow nod.
“So you carpet-bombed the Teucrinos.”
“I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” Gal said and breathed in loudly through her nostrils. Then she got pulled by her nose towards a delicious scent and got into a bakery.
Chapter 44: Galene @ 0.8x nhs
“No, I’m serious, I want you to tell me how you did it,” Greg said across the table. They were at a restaurant back in Athens, celebrating over champagne.
The restaurant was ridiculously expensive, and so was her fancy dress. He had suggested to come by company car, since the bike would have ruined her hair, but she wanted to give him a night of crazy-hot, mind-blowing sex after this and the bike did wonders as an aphrodisiac for her.
“Look at us, swapping places for once. I, the teacher, you, the student.”
“If only I had teachers as hot and smart as you,” he said, raising a glass. “But honestly, you must know by now that I treat you as an equal.”
“I know you respect my opinions, I just need a moment to rub it in a bit longer.”
“Okay, take all the time you need. But I really do want to know your thinking behind it.”
“Okay. It’s a fleshware problem.”
“Oh, yeah, tell me about that.”
“Fleshware problem. That’s what we call it in IT. A hardware problem is when the electronics break down, the physical stuff.” She motioned along with her hands. “A software problem is when there’s a bug or a problem with code, the intangible stuff.”
“Okay…”
“And the fleshware problem, is when there’s nothing wrong with the first two, but the problem lies with the fleshy part.”
“The user.”
“The user,” she nodded, feeling tipsy.
“It’s a fancy way of calling people idiots, I assume?”
“Yes! But it’s an actual problem. You know what happens when new gear is shipped in to a department?”
“I can guess. The employees raise hell, complain that the new system isn’t as good as the old one, productivity plummets, no one wants to take the time and do the training, the supervisors get yelled at by their superiors.”
“Spot on, babe. That’s the fleshware problem. It’s when there’s nothing wrong with the tech, but the people make a mess of it, anyway.”
“So, you’re saying that the whole concept of the Augmented Olympics was technically fine and feasible, but we needed to find the problematic flesh involved.”
“I love it when you listen to me. I get tingles all over.” She stared at the light through her glass, cross-eyed. “Wow, this bubbly is strong.”
Greg thought about it. “Yeah, I like that thinking. I’ll make sure to incorporate it into my own.”
“Incorporate, heh! Silly word,” she slurred.
Chapter 45: Galene @ 3.1x nhs
They ran past the red light in Poseidonos avenue, by the sea.
Then another red.
Then another.
Galene held on to him for dear life. Gregoris pushed the elegant machine to its limits. The Ducati purred and tore up the street like it was meant to.
“Is it onto us?”
Gal dared to look back. The blur in the air was steadily on their tail. “Yes! What is it?”
“A high-speed drone. It’s physically impossible to outrun it in the city.”
“What are we gonna do?”
“I will try not to crash. You are gonna hack it!”
“With what?” Gal cried out.
“Figure it out!” Greg took a turn that brought them centimetres from hitting pavement.
Galene breathed fast. What was she supposed to do? Hacking was done at a dimly lit basements, over energy-drinks and hunched over computer monitors, not while being chase
d by a killer-drone that carried unknown weaponry on it and driving 200km/h, swerving in traffic.
“Gal!”
“Right. Right.” Gal recited the mantra. “It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by will alone-”
It clicked. She pulled a virtual keyboard and it showed up in her veil. She clenched her legs around the bike, so that they kept her in place mechanically. She had to trust Greg not to crash them both. Division of labour. Leaving her upper body to move as they turned left and right, she started typing.
“I gave you access to Hermes’ security AI.”
Gal felt even more blood pumping, if it was possible under these circumstances. So much processing power at her fingertips. So much power, full stop.
She kept mumbling the Mentat mantra. Athens strolled past her in a casual pace, fluid and syrupy. She took root access and focused the Hermes AI to reverse-engineer the drone. Military. Dangerous. Killer. Possible low-yield shaped charges on it, maximum three shots.
Could their helmets endure it?
Quick simulation. Complete. Definite no.
The drone dove down like a hawk, aiming for Greg’s helmet. A bang and a tiny flash. The AI took over and made an impossible evasion manoeuvre that sent them crashing sideways on a car, but struck at an angle that bounced them right back on the road.
Her right knee was crushed. Shattered, beyond repair. Hermes AI informed her that her employee insurance would cover the prosthetic surgery replacement.
She glanced down at the mangled knee, indifferent. She would bother with it later on. She turned off the pain, like she’d turn off an annoying warning error.
The high-speed drone had two more shots, based on approximate weight capabilities.
Gal kept mumbling the mantra.
Geofencing. The idea came to her and her fingers had already begun typing. She could trick the geofencing rules that forced flying drones to avoid specific areas.
Encryption firewall.
She aimed the Hermes AI on it.
Access granted.
So. Much. Power.
The drone stopped midair, as if hitting an imaginary wall. Its onboard AI tried to compensate and searched around for alternate routes. It would figure it out in time, but they gained the distance they needed.
“Awesome work, babe!” Greg said.
Gal smiled. It was cut short.
The Amazon Clete was upon them out of nowhere. She sliced the air with a sword like the insane person that she was, aiming for Greg’s throat. His leather jacket barely caught the blow, and tiny drops of blood sprayed Gal’s helmet.
“Are you okay? Greg?”
“Just grazed me, I’m okay.”
Clete send a wave to Galene over the veil.
“That mother-fucking psycho!”
The rest of the Amazons forced them into side-roads. They couldn’t keep up, but their presence didn’t allow for any errors. Greg didn’t make any, at all.
Gal couldn’t hold herself by the legs, they felt slippery. She grabbed Greg with her left arm and kept typing in the virtual keyboard with the right. She divined the Amazons’ locations on the road and fed them to Greg’s map.
“Why are they doing this? This is insane!”
“I guess they didn’t appreciate our latest business deal,” Greg said, grunting.
The drone appeared again.
Galene geofenced it once more. It didn’t work.
Damn.
So she brought a crane down on it.
Highjacking the controls of an idle crane, she moved it just so, placing it in the path of the drone. It swerved to avoid it but grazed it a little, reducing the drone’s speed considerably.
The crazy woman caught up to them again.
Greg reached a roundabout, climbed the bike in the middle of it and grabbed Gal by the jacket. Then he threw her on the grass.
“It’s me they’re after.” He hit the gas and threw dirt and grass behind him.
“No…”
Gal stood up and her knee gave way. She fell flat on her face and pain overcame her.
In an instant, Greg was a red tail-light, vanishing in the dark, chased after by a madwoman.
Chapter 46: Natalie @ 1.1x nhs
“Heleftme. Simbaleftme.” Galene cried out in quicktalk, sitting on the floor, her knee stretched and bandaged.
Natalie put down her bag and hugged her tight. “Shh. Slow down, I can’t tell what you’re saying.
“Simba left me.” Gal pointed at the open balcony door and sobbed. Her eyes were puffy and snot was all over her face.
Nat wiped her face and comforted her. “The cat? Oh, that’s what cats do. He’ll come back, I’m sure of it.”
“No!” Gal cried out. “He left me alone with a busted knee and he’s not coming back!” she wailed.
Natalie sat better, minding her friend’s recovering knee. She hugged her tight and caressed her hair. “He’ll come back.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do, I know everything. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
“You don’t know shit,” Gal sniffed.
“Yes, honey, whatever you say. Boy, this sleepover is gonna be so much fun, huh?”
“It won’t be fun without Simbaaa…” Gal cried.
“Yes, Simba. That stupid cat. Leaving you like that.”
“Yes! Exactly. I mean, what was he thinking?”
“Nothing, honey, calm down. Nothing.”
Gal looked Natalie in the eyes. She was a mess. “When will he call?”
“He’ll call. Shh, now. He’ll call.”
Chapter 47: Galene @ 2.7x nhs
Three months went by. She threw herself on her project to keep her mind occupied, but it was extremely hard these days when her brain could handle so much.
She got an office and a full-time Timeshaver team. The service was a success with a small, but extremely loyal customer base. As a test, they even doubled their pricing and the subscribers didn’t even budge. It took time for new people to get used to it, but it slowly built up an audience that wouldn’t let go. It became a solid revenue stream for Hermes corp and she ran it and improved upon it. Rumour was that Hermes himself used it daily.
She went down at IT some times to blow off steam. George avoided her, people snickered every time they saw the two of them. She had the meme ready to fire as soon as he uttered a word at her, but she never needed it again.
Her knee healed and it was better than before. The prosthetic was excellent, probably cost more than a house and a car and a yacht combined. She didn’t care. All it did was remind her of that night.
She got a bonus. She gave it to her mom to treat herself a bit. Buy something for herself.
Simba never came back.
The elevator doors opened, and she froze. After a while, the building’s AI nagged her to get a move on.
She cursed under her breath and stepped off. The elevator went down, leaving her at the penthouse lobby. It felt unfamiliar to her, just like the first time she had come up here all this time ago. Silly vase she could fit in, check. Silly security door, check. Silly carpet, check.
She dreaded to take another step.
She took out her keycard, and swallowed the lump in her throat. She touched her belly lightly.
She swiped it.
Red light. No access.
No biggie. These stupid things sometimes didn’t work properly.
She swiped it again.
Red light. No access. Please step away or security will be notified.
She stepped away. He had locked her out. She knew he was in there, but he had deliberately revoked her access. After all those big words and the gestures and all that had happened, he had simply ghosted her.
What. A. Fucking. Asshole.
She screamed at the top of her lungs and threw the vase on the floor. It came crashing down and broke off into a million pieces all over the expensive carpet.
Just like her heart.
Chapter
48: Gregoris @ 5.6x nhs
3 months ago:
Greg ran for his life.
His feet hit the pavement like an elephant, his heart pounded like a gong in his ear.
The alalagmos, the glottal war cry of the women was haunting. They were everywhere, on the rooftops, on the balconies, in the streets blocking his way. He tried only once to break through a roadblock and he got a brutal punch straight in the face. The pain from that was just a single note in the chorus of his senses right now. It was as if he acknowledged the issue but gave it a low priority.
There were more pressing matters than his broken nose at the moment.
He was surrounded. He didn’t dare enter any of the houses, what good would that do? The civilians were terrified, doors double-locked and windows shut tight. He’d probably just put them in danger for no reason at all.
He ran.
The Huntress followed.
One of her daughters carried her in the back of her bike. Artemis stood in perfect balance, carrying her compound bow high.
He knew damn well what she could do with that bow.
She was the Huntress, and he was the prey.
He ran.
The streets were dim. He could barely see. His pulse beat so strong that his vision blurred with every heartbeat.
He glanced back, Artemis had stepped off and was taking aim. He threw himself behind a trashcan.
The arrow whistled in the air and turned around in a curve. His reflexes made him dodge before he even registered a thought.
Doinggg.
The arrow struck the place where his head had been moments ago, still vibrating. Artemis was firing turning arrows at him.
Holy fuck.
He pushed himself up and kept on running. The alalagmos grew louder, Artemis’ daughters waiting for her to finish her prey.
Greg couldn’t spare a moment to hate them. He couldn’t spare a moment to think about anything other than how to survive. To survive and get home to Galene.
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