by Aies Jay
-This is all we have.
He looks up at me.
-Then it’s going to get a tad bit harder. Not impossible, but I’ll need to do a full on post mortem, a full autopsy. Do you have the body or just the samples?
I don’t want to bring in Teeth’s daughter quite yet but I feel pressed right now. I still zip my lip around that for a little more.
-We just have samples that were saved for research.
-That’s probably not even nearly enough.
I’m almost giving up and telling him the full works, getting ready to be laughed at, when Nicla who’s been digging in her purse for a while pulls out a bunch of papers and hands them to him.
-Here. Medical files and the full case file.
I just stare at her.
-Where did you…?
She looks at me with surprise.
-What? Of course I nicked the medical journal when I was inside. It would be stupid not to.
I’m speechless for a moment but soon catch myself.
-I didn’t even know they had it on paper…
-Company policy. All med stations on S2 have all their patients and cases on paper for five years.
-Paper? What the hell for?
-Remember the WipeOut virus?
I wasn’t alive, but everyone, even the non-hackers know about the WipeOut. A hacker decided that the past was an evil thing that propelled society to go backwards rather than forwards (or so he claimed until the end but I doubt it was all idealism and no skeletons) and made a deletion virus and released it into the Gate System of our fair S2. Luckily the President’s monitors, the security team of hackers on S2, caught on fairly quickly and contained it but it took the President himself to kill the damn thing. Almost half of the Gates and a third of the software on S2 were wiped that day. I mean whistle-clean, turned into hunks of useless metal junk. Nicla continues.
-Then you understand, I’m sure.
I nod but still I mutter
-Paper. What’s this, 2032?
-I keep nothing on paper. Paper is evidence. Computer files are bad enough.
Seizer comments while his eyes are speed reading the papers Nicla handed him. He reads med files at the same speed I read code, but he goes back to double check things sometimes, which I never need to do. He’s both impressive and pathetic at the same time. The perfect man for the job. He holds out his hand.
-Samples, please.
-You know what to do?
He looks up at me.
-I’m assuming you want a full pathological profile to what happened to your son. Cellular changes, virus check, bacterial cultures. Am I wrong?
-No.
-Then I know what to do. I can’t do a full autopsy, obviously, but you’ll get the next best thing.
I frown, still reluctant to hand him what is in the pod. If we’re wrong and he fucks up, it can all end here. We still have Honour but I do not want another dud if the second doc fucks up, too. Teeth will not take that gracefully and neither will I. His attitude to Honour’s body hasn’t affected me just yet but his crass call to what happens when we run out of physical evidence sure has.
-This is all there is left.
He nods.
-I won’t fail. I have the med file, e-swabs and tissues. It’s more than I need.
How can a broken man be that confident? I hand over the cryo pod.
-How long will it take?
Ha makes a small wiggle of the head.
-No more than 48 hours. Or until you pay, depending on which comes first.
I hand over a cred chit which he immediately slips into a reader, punching in the figure. I agree with my code, feeling a small fall in the pit of my stomach. I’ve done implants that didn’t cost this much.
-Drop me a line when you’re done? Or give me a call?
I ask. He shakes his head.
-No. You come back in 48 hours and I’ll have your answers. I have patients to attend to.
I take one last look at his H model in the nurse’s outfit. Creepy, creepy, creepy.
-Fine. Later, then.
I don’t shake his hand, mostly because he never extends his.
48 hours
As the door swooshes shut behind me I have no fucking idea of where to go or what to do. I wait outside for Nicla to be done talking to him about whatever job she needs doing. From looking at her, she may need to have a couple of things removed. I poke at my bad jack in the neck. It’s still throbbing from being misused in the break-in. Maybe I should go in there for a mechanic check-up too but like I said, I don’t plan for the future and the doc just cleared out my cred stash. I need to get some work done again, get a cred flow going. Teeth hasn’t even given me his fee demand yet and I’m sure he’ll be expensive as hell. The cocky ones always are. The door swooshes open and shut soon enough again and Nicla takes my arm.
-Let’s eat.
I look at her. Do I really want her company or do I want to be alone in my misery? I remove her arm.
-I should drop in by my job or something. I’m officially broke.
She looks at me for a few moments before answering.
-Should you? Or do you want to be alone?
She’s good at reading people, I’ll give her that. She was a nurse, a healer. A caregiver. And she sees straight through my walls. Why is it so hard to let her in? When this is all over, we’ll part. Why can’t I just take it for what it’s worth? She’s pretty, she’s kind and she’ll leave. Why can’t that be enough?
-I, um…
We just stand there for a while. The air smells like plastic. I smell like day old socks and anxiety. I finally blurt out
-I haven’t let anyone in since Yun tried Ghosting herself.
Nicla nods.
-That was Lychee’s mother, right?
I nod.
-We’d been together since forever. Lychee wasn’t planned, he wasn’t even expected. We were terrified… and then he came. And I thought…
I never even talked to anyone about this before and as the emotions surface I realize why. I can’t stop them. I haven’t dealt with this at all and my body actually starts shaking. Tears threaten to take me but I bite them back. My throat is shut, like strings of pain are tying it down. She just puts her hand on my cheek and keeps it there. I finally find the courage to look her in the eyes.
-I can’t. I’m broken. And I have nothing left to heal myself with. I don’t even want to. I don’t want love. I don’t want happiness. The only thing I want is revenge. It feels like I kept at it just to see this happening.
She nods.
-I’m not offering happiness. Or love. I haven’t offered that to anyone since my first flesh customer.
There’s something in the way she phrases it that makes it strange but I have no energy to hear it for what it is.
-Then what are you offering me?
-Forgetfulness.
-I don’t want that either. I’ve had my fill already.
A little while we stand there, she’s holding her hand on my cheek and I find myself to have taken her other hand in mine. It’s an odd moment, tender yet plastic, like a H5 pleasure model. Or is it the opposite? All feelings, no touch? What do I feel for her? Nothing. Gratitude, perhaps. What does she feel for me? Who can tell? None of us moves, not forward, not backwards. I don’t shirk away and she doesn’t let me go. Suddenly my number is being dialled and the moment breaks. I click into the com link.
-Yes?
-It’s me, Teeth.
-What’s up?
-It’s going to take some time to find my colleague. He’s underground and I have to stay put or I’ll miss him coming out.
I make a small huff.
-Are you sure this guy is really necessary?
-You getting nervous?
I make a harrumph.
-No more than you.
His voice stays cool and detached.
-That’s a yes.
-We have a 48 hour waiting period to do.
-You have my dial. Ca
ll if there’s a crisis.
I roll my eyes. “Call”. That means he has a com link to dial but no quick access mini Gate. Maybe not even a wrist Gate. He’ll need a full on Gate to just check his mail. Meathead.
-Righty-ho. We’ll meet up at my place in other ways.
-Sure. Stay alert.
-Will do.
I click him off and return my attention to Nicla.
-Teeth’s old buddy is doing mafia business.
-Triads or Yakuza?
-I didn’t ask.
She makes a small hum.
-So… what do we do?
I inhale the stale air and exhale.
-We go back to my place after buying some food and then we shower and then we fuck and sleep.
I’m not even sure why I said it. For a moment I think I’ve insulted her. For another moment I expect her to say it’ll cost me extra. But what she does say is
-Righty-ho.
And off we go.
sex
It’s sex, not love. To the smell of Szechuan chicken noodles, my ManGoo soap and dirty bedsheets, we bury our bodies in each other. I’m tired but this is something to feel. She’s a skinny yet pleasing creature, less right on than I expected her to be. My hands and skin has turned into pure greed, hungry for what has been denied for so long. I don’t want her, I need her. Perhaps she feels the same. Her hands move slowly, like the goal is to feel and to touch rather than to get a quick reaction. Our bodies move in rhythm, none of us in a hurry, none of us in hot desire, but both of us in a slow hunger slowly being sated, like ravenous want being fed by a ten course meal. Small pieces of delight, none like the other, fall into the hollow in the part of me that needs to feel human touch. I never thought I had missed it as much as I had. Slowly we increase the rhythm, slowly the touches become firmer, and our breaths come in quicker and deeper. We come closer, facelessly, getting no more or less than we want. She makes noises through her nose, never moaning out loud like Yun did. I refuse to ask myself if I remind her of any of her regulars. I snap a rubber on as we close into the climax and she curls her finger into my hair mumbling
-Wait for me, wait for me.
and I do, forcing down my tide and court her desire and lust. I give her as long as she needs and when she grabs my neck and says
-Now.
we become one single creature of existence. We’re not whole but for that moment, we’re not alone.
moments in time
As I get out of the bed I look at the sleeping Nicla for just a moment. Her body looks so starved. I turn my head to the clock which tells me I’ve slept for nine hours straight. Holy shit. I haven’t slept that long in over a year. It’s evening again, we slept through the day, flipping time over. I pull my pants on and go to my Gate. I hook up and make a small programming adjustment I’ve thought about for a while for fixing software for H models that the boss has been hassling me for. It takes less than an hour and I send it to him with a small note of apologizing that I won’t be coming in for another three days. Emergency surgery, I’m on a waiting list, and have to be on call if they find a slot. A leakage that’s threatening to get into my brain stem. I sign it with another apology and send it remorselessly. I really couldn’t give a shit, so why do I do it, bothering at all to cover up? Habits? I shake my head at myself and then take one more step at normality. I fix up laundry and turn on my small TV set next to the spice shelf in the kitchenette to have some noise in the background. The artist known as “The Vampire” is doing his special on the tiny screen. He’s turning twenty-five and they’ve made it into quite an anniversary show. Clips from his concerts mixed with interviews with his colleagues and himself blend in a fine mix that’s both entertaining and informative. I have half an eye and one ear on it. The music isn’t half bad, even if it’s not my regular cup of tea. As I’ve cleaned off my small kitchen, and by that I really mean just that I’ve chucked the garbage and put the dishes in the machine again, I hear Nicla stirring in the bedroom. I’m eternally grateful that she’s not showing me any signs of affection or anything else as she comes into the kitchen nook. She’s dressed and walks up behind me asking
-Is there any coffee?
I shake my head.
-No. There are Jackhammers in the fridge, or you can give it a go, the machine’s over there. But it works sporadically at best and the grounds are old.
She nods and does both. She opens the fridge, downs a Jackhammer, like a full on hacker, and then goes to my coffee maker. A small cleaning later she overloads it with coffee grounds she found without my help and when she slaps the small button on the machine, it immediately starts slurping. I shut my face around my comment of a woman’s touch.
-Do you have any parents or so?
I blurt out. She looks intently at the percolator and finds herself a cup once she’s satisfied that the coffee really is on the way.
-No. They died when I was ten. I lived at my aunt’s place until I finished nursing school. The woman was an utter cow… but she did the best she could, I guess. You?
I ask myself why the hell I asked and while I’m at it, why the hell I’m answering.
-No. My parents came from somewhere else, but they never told me much. They were Stygians, the both of them. Hackers, took to this place like keys to a keyboard. They Ghosted themselves together. I was five. They left me everything but themselves. I remember my mother kissing me goodnight, saying “see you soon” and when I woke up in the morning they were both dead. I was passed between a few foster homes but I ran away from every single one of them.
-I’m sorry.
She puts her hand sympathetically on my arm but I shake my head, an odd smile finding my face as I continue.
-I finally ended up staying with a guy who was an uncle of one of my foster mothers. I lived with him for five years. I was sixteen when he died. Heart attack, he was 47. A fine hacker, one of those ancients that really earned the title. He taught me so much… he was the one who taught me to track and how to program, taught me more than my bio parents ever bothered trying to teach me. His code name was SwordFish… an odd fellow. When he died I hacked the System and added two years to my age and I’ve made it on my own since then. He’s the one person I actually thought I’d find in the System, even if he never Ghosted himself. But no. Maybe that’s why I never tried.
I shut the fuck up. Nicla looks at me and then looks away.
-I heard of SwordFish. He owned a Spot, with his own Portal and everything.
-He did.
-They say he had so many jacks in him that he had to implant them all along his spine.
I nod.
-It’s true. He was phenomenal. His Avatar was so powerful. He used to stand on a holo pod, all his jacks connected and just System God his way on. I was looking on like hypnotized. He had a screen covering the entire wall of his place above the Spot. I always imagined that he’d been President once, but if he had, he never admitted to it.
I run out of words. The coffee is done and she pours two cups, handing me one of them. I accept it, looking at her, trying to think of something else to say. Something unimportant, something impersonal, anything, as long as it’s superficial and flat and doesn’t hurt. I have nothing. I go for the next best thing.
-Thank you for fixing that med file.
She nods.
-My pleasure.
I’ve run out of empty words again.
-What did they kick you out of the clinic for, Nicla?
She stiffens.
-You know that already, I’m sure.
I shake my head, adding sugar to my coffee. I don’t believe it anymore. I haven’t seen her high even once during our short time together and I didn’t see any needle tracks on her body when we had sex, except for the ones on her elbow creases and those weren’t even half as scarred as mine. She didn’t even get drunk while I was paying out restaurant tab. No fucking way she’s a druggie.
-No. The real reason.
She makes a slow sigh.
-I “stole” anti-reject drugs from the clinic and gave them to kids in the harbour that couldn’t pay. You’ve seen them. They lie like beggars in the corners and along the walls in the bay, a cred chit in their hands and their junk crawling out of their bodies, hoping the next ship coming in will be anyone with reject drugs at a cheaper price so they can save the extra creds for the next surgery. Most of them die. But the people who caught me doing it was no less than the other anti-reject traders and they don’t take kindly to competition that give away stuff for free to their finest customers. They told on me to my boss. I tried to explain that kid’s lives were at stake and technically I didn’t even steal the drugs, since I only took those who had expired by a day or so and were going to be destroyed anyway. My boss decided not to understand, stripped me of my licence and fired me.
I shut up a while before saying
-There are a whole lot of black surgeons here. You couldn’t find a job at any of their places?
She shakes her head.
-So far not without sucking cock.
I kill the expression almost reaching my face.
-Assholes.
-You said it. So I figured, fine, then I suck cock, but not for free. I’d done some light entertaining before, due to a bad boyfriend and needing money during nursing school got me that so I had a few contacts… anyway, that’s as cute as my story gets.
The coffee is surprisingly good.
As I sit down in front of my Gate I know what I’m about to do is basically futile but I do it anyway. I hook up and only hear vaguely from Nicla that she’s popping out for a bit. I don’t ask what for and she doesn’t tell me. I enter Axorpa and start poking about for the source of the shred of mail that started all of this. This is a bit clandestine amongst hackers so I have to be gentle. Prodding too hard may make the others suspicious as to what the hell I’m up to and I don’t want to come off like some form of copper or a space cowboy, looking for some kid who snagged the wrong guy’s info. I put out a few hooks and tug at them, no go. I search for the same kind of info, just in case the source is the same, specializing in nicking mail. No go. I curse softly and take a deep breath. I need to find the source, I might have a slightly easier time on finding the fuckers IRL if that person can tell me how he or she came by the info. I spend hours searching, checking, following threads and leads, asking without trying to sound too nosy. I stay the fuck off bribing or waving creds about, I offer services instead, advertising my former work and referring to my earlier activities on Axorpa. Most hackers here know me fairly well and trust me about as far as they can throw an info chit, but fact of the matter remains. Perfect hours and perfect bait but no fucking go. I can’t find the source. The closest I get is finding someone who comments the whole issue with