Templum Veneris

by Jeremy L. Jones

  “It’s very…” Althea started as she looked around. And then, because any other adjectives failed her, finished with, “...plain.”

  She had wasted her evening but, at least, she didn’t have to go through with it. Truth be told, she was having second thoughts anyway.

  Remeil was undeterred. In fact, he was more excited than before, as he lurched forward waving his arms expansively. “It doesn’t look like much, but this is where it all happens. The latest and greatest in new technology. Not just for the Financial Consortium but for the whole Corporation. Come, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”

  Althea followed him to a computer inside one of the partitions. The built-in holographic terminal displayed the Corporation logo, the Earth partially surrounded by an immense golden ‘C’.

  The boy sat down and waved his hand through the hologram. “Now keep in mind, it’s not anywhere close to finished yet. In fact, it’s just something I’ve been working on in my spare time, but it’s going to change everything. Do you know what the problem with the fiat is?”

  Besides not having any? thought Althea looming behind him. “Not really, no.”

  Remeil began cycling through various icons that hovered over the desk. “It’s the same problem as with most currencies. They are impossible to control. They are not tied to anything, so their value is essentially what everyone just agrees that it is. It’s why every currency except the fiat has failed. And the only reason the fiat has endured is through gross manipulation of the markets, and every time that happens, it gets closer to collapse as well.”

  Remeil touched one of the icons and the entire space in a 180-degree area in front of them filled with numbers, graphs, and other financial data. “The solution, as I see it, is not massive manipulation but hundreds of thousands of micromanipulations. I’ve adapted our own AI algorithms to examine billions of transactions and adjust the value of the fiat in real-time based on that data.”

  Althea’s jaw dropped. As a whole, everything she saw in front of her was too overwhelming to make any sense of. But, as she watched, something gradually occurred to her. “The fiat wouldn’t be based on anything, it would be based on everything.”

  Remeil leaned back, opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a bottle and a couple of paper cups. “How about a drink? I’ve been saving this for something special.”

  Althea glanced at the label as he set the cups on the desk underneath the glowing graphs and numbers. “Arrack? VSOA? You’re a man of taste.”

  The boy grinned as he pulled the cork and poured. “Thank you. As I said, I was saving it for something special.”

  Without thinking, Althea put her hand over the cups. “And as a man of taste, you should know that a beverage of such distinction deserves better than a paper cup.”

  Althea sucked in a tiny breath. What was she doing? Her mind and body appeared to be running on autopilot. Was she honestly in the process of stealing this software from him?

  Remeil put down the bottle and straightened his suit again. “Of course you’re right. I think I know where I can find a couple of tumblers. Be right back.”

  He turned to leave. Althea knew she should let him return with the glasses, have a drink and then find an opportune moment to disappear into the night, but a nagging urge in her brain wanted to try. “Quick question,” she blurted out. “I’ve got to get ahold of my roommate, tell her I will be late. Is there a way to get onto the Neuvonet from here?”

  The boy paused and steadied himself against the wall. His eyes narrowed. “You want on the Neuvonet. Right here?”

  He wasn’t buying it and, in part, Althea was relieved. She just shrugged. “It was just a thought. Since I was here. No big—”

  “Icon on the top left there. Touch it and enter 13013 and it will put you right through.” He smiled and turned to leave.

  Althea smiled back, this time to keep her jaw from dropping open.

  As soon as the door to the office clicked closed, she entered the code. She needed to work fast. Reaching into the top of her dress she retrieved a translucent, thumbnail-sized chip and slid it into a slot in the front of the desk.

  When the computer connected, she selected an encrypted channel and tapped the address into a search bar. The face of an old acquaintance popped up as if he was waiting for her call. Neil had the kind of constantly tired face that people develop when they spend every waking hour in the Neuvonet. His hair was long, and his face probably didn't know what a razor looked like, but his eyes lit up when he saw Althea. “Alice! Well, if it isn’t my estranged sister-in-law. Didn’t think I would see you again after the divorce.”

  Even though the channel was encrypted, there was always someone watching. But Althea and her contacts had developed an elaborate code, more to keep the impression of plausible deniability than anything else. What he really meant was he was surprised to see her running scams. He thought she quit.

  “Wasn’t just the divorce, I had to leave town for a few months,” Althea replied.

  “It’s nice to hear from you. Just calling to catch up?”

  “No, I’m in town for a couple of days for Aunt Mary’s funeral. She left us a crypto I think you should see.”

  Althea touched another icon. She couldn’t send him the entire file, not without someone getting suspicious, but she could send a short sample.

  “So sorry to hear that,” said Neil. He paused while he looked at the file she had sent. She watched as his eyes widened and his mouth hung open. There was no code for ‘We will crack half the Financial Consortium with this and make so much money we will have to pay people just to tell us how much it is.’

  “Her estate is in flux, and we need five hundred million to settle it,” Althea continued.

  “That’s a lot. If we get the money, how do we guarantee we get access to the estate?”

  “My brother-in-law Louis works in collection. He’ll see to the account personally.”

  Neil looked down. “Collections, huh? Risky. But I can set up something for him. Here. You missed the pictures from our last vacation.”

  Althea touched an icon and downloaded a tracker program onto the disk along with the software. It would allow Neil to pinpoint its location anywhere in the world.

  “I’ll take a look when I have some time. I need to run by the bank first,” said Althea.

  She reached over to activate another window and checked to make sure the money hit her account when she heard the click of the door lock opening.

  “Shit,” she hissed, “Out of time. I’ll have to trust you. Collections will be in the bin outside.”

  On the other end, Neil started working faster. “I’ve never led you wrong. Never will. Hey, Alice, it’s good to see—”

  Althea shut down the feed just as the door opened, pulled the small chip from the drive and looked around the workstation. Near the chair, there was a wire wastepaper basket. She grabbed a wad of paper, concealed the disk inside and brought it to her mouth just as Remeil rounded the corner.

  Althea laughed as he returned. “Sorry. Just realized I still had gum in my mouth. Be a shame to ruin such a fine drink.”

  A flash of suspicion crossed the boy’s face. Then he grinned, set the glasses on the desk and started to pour the liquor. “Hope you didn’t get lonely here by yourself.”

  “Terribly,” said Althea taking one of the glasses and holding it up. “Well, here’s to your brilliance. And to a wonderful evening.”

  Althea took a moment to savor the sweet, spicy liquor. It was dangerously smooth with only the slightest burn to hint at its strength. She looked at the boy over the rim of her glass as he sipped his own drink. There was still time. Until she made the drop, she could call it off. She could throw away the chip hidden in the crumpled paper which she clutched in her hand.

  And yet, she was so close. Five hundred million Corporation fiat would not only be her biggest score, but it would set her up for two or three years; longer if she held back on some of the extravagant ex
penses. And the boy—she winked at him as she took another drink—had no idea. The thought sent a jolt through her. She was on the brink of her biggest heist yet, and she was sharing a drink with her mark. How could she not go through with it when she was so close?

  She swallowed the rest and tossed back her fiery red hair. “So I was thinking, we continue this party somewhere more… private.”

  Remeil eagerly downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. “I know just the place.”

  She took his hand and, together, they left the office, took the elevator down, and walked back onto the streets of Arkester. On her way out, she tossed the scrap of paper into a garbage can near the entrance of the building. In a few minutes, a stranger, who only knew he would be paid a few extra fiat to collect and deliver it, would be by to finish the job.

  As they crossed through the District again, Althea led them into a crowd and slipped away before the poor, dumb kid even realized she had gone.

  ****

  Viekko walked back upstairs to his apartment. The group therapy session hadn’t ended well. The moderator ordered him to attend meetings every day for the next month; he wasn't allowed visitors and wasn't allowed outside the clinic without supervision. They hadn’t gone so far as to take away his private apartment so it could have been worse. They could have stuck him in one of those wards in the other building where he’d share a cramped space with four or five other walking disasters. In those human dumping grounds, there was nothing to do except eat, shit, and wait to die. And someone would be watching while you did all three. Playing cards with a person who has all the enthusiasm for life as a fungus doesn’t exactly pass the time.

  Viekko opened the door and turned on the lights. He swore when they flickered for a moment, then died. Not because he felt angry, it was just something he was compelled to do.

  The resonant transformer coils near the Arkester Core provided constant, reliable power. On the outskirts, where the clinic was located, there were only five or six towers in range, and two would be working on a good day. Out here, the only reliable source of energy was gas, coal... hell, some people had to burn what wood they could salvage from one of the crumbling ruins of the South African cities Arkester was built on. He felt his way into the room until he found the dresser, fumbled in the top drawer, found the matches, and lit a lamp full of a coal and water mixture he kept nearby. The room filled with the dull, flickering light and something dark shot between his feet toward the space underneath the bed and squeaked.

  “Ah,” said Viekko. “My favorite vermin.”

  Viekko took off his khaki suit jacket and his white, wide-brimmed hat and hung them both carefully on a rack near the door. That was the other good thing. By keeping his private apartment, he also got to keep his clothes. Everyone else in the complex let themselves fall apart. Beautiful, fair-skinned women fresh to the program, looked like wax plastered over a skeleton in a hot room within a week. Strong, sharp-eyed men looked like big, burlap sacks filled with sadness. They exchanged bright, fashionable clothing for dull rags. Perfectly styled hair grew long, matted and frayed. That spark of humanity died. Every time Viekko looked one of them in the eye, he got this chill, like looking into the eyes of a corpse.

  So Viekko kept his long, black hair in a tight, braided queue, a tradition from his home on the Martian colony. He wore the same white khaki suits and his trademark hat, both habits he picked up during his short time riding in high society when he arrived on Earth. He wanted to look the way he used to, even if people knew the truth the minute they looked into his eyes.

  He went to the kitchen carrying the lamp with him, flicked on the gas stove—at least the gas worked today—and opened the kitchen cupboard. His dinner selection included something red in a can, something brown in a can, something red with brown lumps in a can, something brown with red specks in a can and, for those special occasions, something brown with red specks and yellow lumps... in a foil bag.

  Well, it had been a tough day. He pulled the bag off the shelf, tore it open with his teeth and dumped the contents into a small saucepan and placed it on the burner. “I left something special for you under the bed, you little furry novsh,” he called over his shoulder.

  There was a loud snap from under the bed and a short, terminal squeak.

  “Ah good, you found it.”

  When his dinner started to bubble, Viekko pulled it off the stove and ate it right out of the saucepan over the sink. When he was done, he dumped the leftovers in the garbage and pulled the trash bag out of the can. Back into the main room, he reached under the bed for the trap and examined the dead rat for a moment. “Lucky bastard,” he muttered, before dropping it into the sack.

  There was a knock at the door. Probably someone come to remind him of his new unpleasant schedule.

  “Yes, yes! I'll remember,” he called. “Group session tomorrow morning!”

  The voice on the other side called back. “Viekko! It's Althea!”

  It was her, her voice was unmistakable. But that was impossible. Althea didn't come out here. Not since the day he checked himself into the treatment program, and only then to make sure he did as he promised. It was better for both of them, that's how she explained it. He needed time to get better and so did she. She was nearby if he needed her medical expertise, but that was it.

  So it couldn't be her. It was just another side effect of withdrawal. Sometimes he heard voices. The doctors explained that auditory hallucinations were not uncommon, but they were a product of his imagination. Maybe he wanted her there, so that's what he heard.

  Viekko dropped the sack and walked to the door, sure there would be nobody there. But there she was, the most wonderful hallucination he'd ever seen, drugged up or sober.

  “Althea?” Viekko could barely get the word out.

  “Viekko. How are you?” She smiled. It was a smile that could stop a war... or cause it.

  “Althea?” Viekko repeated it as if he might get a different response. “What are you…?”

  Althea pounced before he could finish. At first, Viekko wasn't even sure what was happening. All he knew was there was an explosion of sensations he'd mostly forgotten. He could smell perfume like sweet orange blossoms. He could taste liquor on her breath. And he could feel, Jayzus, God and all the little children he could feel... her lips against his. They must have staggered across the room because he felt his back slam into the wall that divided the main room from the kitchen. There was a rush of... excitement, anticipation, passion, maybe even a touch of anxiety, but that was good in its own way as well.

  She pulled back, and he could see her hair as bright and red as a neon light. She had a face and a body that should be carved into marble and put on display. And she wore a little red dress that accentuated all of the above. In that instant, the fog cleared. The world was sharp.

  “Althea, what are you doing here?” He finally found his voice.

  “I came to see you,” she replied, gazing into him with her bright, emerald green eyes.

  “How did you even get in here? I'm not allowed visitors.”

  “Viekko, look at me. Like anyone is going to tell me I can't go where I want.” She stepped closer and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I told the guy at the door that I was called for a medical consultation.”

  “Is that right?” Viekko mused.

  “Yes, that's right.” She wrapped both sides of his now unbuttoned shirt in her hands and pulled him to her, and they kissed again. It wasn't a gentle, romantic kiss, but something forceful. Violent. Someone could get hurt, and they might even like it.

  In that beautiful moment, the Haze cleared and Viekko felt like himself for the first time in... months. He wasn't one of those walking bags of meat wandering the halls and mumbling in monotone during group therapy. He was alive and it felt great. And Althea... she looked better than that night when they met in that bar in Rio. That night she pulled the job that got her picked up by Corporation agents. That night he was so strung out on booze and triple-
T, he didn't even wake up when the Corpos broke down his door and hauled her away.

  The night two people found each other at their lowest point.

  Viekko grabbed her by both shoulders and pushed her away as realization kicked in.

  Althea looked confused and a little frantic. “What's wrong, what's the matter?” She had a painful edge to her voice.

  “Althea...What's goin’ on here?”

  “Nothing, I just miss you.”

  She leaned in to kiss him again, but he managed to hold her back this time.