Neural Wraith, page 14
“I definitely appreciate the money,” he said with a wink. “I had a look at the contract you signed. How the hell did you convince the department to agree to that? And why did Chloe come up with that figure?”
“Chloe? What do you—” Rie’s eyes flashed and a brief expression of rage distorted her face.
Then she calmed down and smiled thinly at him.
Silence ruled the cabin. The soundproofing of the vehicle meant he couldn’t hear the humdrum of the people on the sidewalks as they pulled into the underground parking lot.
“I believe I may have underestimated Chloe’s… eagerness to be your liaison,” Rie said with false sweetness.
“I did say I wanted to be paid more,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You made a general threat because you were annoyed at how pushy Chloe was being. Although, given the state of your apartment, I can’t say I disagree with your new pay. I shall insist that you make proper use of it, however.”
The interceptor rolled to a stop. Nick decided this was a great opportunity to end the conversation, before Rie tried to force him to move into a swanky penthouse.
Unlike the parking garages in the CBD, this one looked pretty full. Many of the customers in this district had the cash to blow on their own self-driving car, and extortionate parking fees would hardly dissuade them. Sleek sports cars sat alongside towering SUVs. More than a few strangely boxy vehicles could be spotted here and there, although they looked a lot better in augmented reality.
Nick and the Archangels took the stairs up. Nobody scattered upon their arrival this time. The streets were alive with people and dolls. The well-heeled rich enjoyed the quaint cobblestone streets, while laughing, eating, and drinking from the range of fancy bars and restaurants.
None of the businesses had human staff, naturally, save maybe a chef or the owner. Doll waitresses ferried food and drinks out. Some places were completely self-serve, and customers ordered everything using the Altnet, then collected it at the kitchen.
Security dolls and beefier folks with visible cybernetics patrolled the streets. The dolls were a mixture of the RTM G6s and the newer Sigma Lancer.
Both dolls were considerably larger than the Archangels, and closer in size to the Liberator models. Six feet tall, visible thickness to provide durability against small arms, and limited armor plating over select parts of the body. The G6s possessed variety in their appearance, due to their global nature, and could pass as human save for their metallic antennae and armor.
By contrast, the Lancers were a monolithic model. They all looked like blonde bombshells, and Nick had heard that part of Sigma’s marketing was to people who wanted a security doll who would look great on their arm. Doll wives were hardly a new thing, even if they remained niche.
“I’m amazed that nobody is worried about a pack of Archangels,” Nick said as they strode down one of the busier streets.
“We commonly patrol at this time,” Twelve said.
Chloe frowned. “Is it normal to allow so much rule-breaking activity? Many of these weapons appear to be loaded with lethal ammunition.”
Nick followed her gaze and saw a trio of suited thugs. The men stared back at him, unflinching. Unlike the security dolls, they didn’t carry their guns openly. Their bulky coats were as effective as Nick’s at hiding bulky weapons.
“Concealed weapons?” Nick asked.
“Yes,” Chloe said. “The Americium model of the Lawman, specifically. The neural receiver in them isn’t modded.”
“I doubt the security here intends to fight the police. Illegal ammo or not, closing a gun off to the security bands is just asking to be shot,” he said.
The Mark 1s nodded in sync. Their SMGs dangled loosely from their necks, indicating they saw no danger nearby. The security dolls likely carried non-lethal stun rounds, given their shotguns lacked ammunition-switchers.
“We’re not here to rough up random black companies and their security,” Rie said. “If they attempt to interfere with us, then that’s another matter. Or do you know some of them?”
Nick snorted. “I haven’t come here for years. You know that, and you know why. We’re about to have a friendly chat with one of those reasons.”
They walked farther down the street. The crowds thinned out the farther they went. Several of the establishments here had blacked-out windows. They probably had augmented advertising that Nick couldn’t see.
If they went inside, he knew they’d be served a lot more than just food. The dolls that lingered in doorways and called out to passersby often left little to the imagination. Some wore designer clothing with holes in the right places. If anyone needed to know if dolls had the parts for intercourse, they’d find out here.
Of course, not all of them did. But it was a popular add-on. Most businesses bought through importers, rather than direct, and the add-on increased resale value. It wasn’t like somebody could drill the parts in afterward.
The Mark 1s looked around with sharp eyes as they strode through here. More than a few times, he spotted them glare at a rather mundane doll. Said doll would freeze up for several seconds, and often walk into a building.
“I take it some laws are being broken,” Nick said.
Rie grinned. “You cannot see, but many of these dolls have highly augmented appearances. It’s not legal to appear in public with a non-human appearance. We can overlook some of them, but some of them are… less eye-pleasing than others. Or pose a risk to older neural implants.”
“Ah. Tentacle monsters. I thought those were out of fashion?” He nodded, stroking his chin.
“I understand that trends go in waves. But these are more… eldritch.”
Nick made a note to look up some photos on the Altnet later. What even was the current augmented doll fashion these days?
The Archangels gave him a strange look, and he suspected his thoughts had showed on his face. Also, the fact he kept tabs on this sort of stuff probably alarmed them.
One of the more popular features of neural implants was the ability to alter all of one’s perceptions. Somebody could become a giant monster, and their partner could become a prancing centaur. Or they might grow many tentacles. The possibilities weren’t quite limitless, simply because the human mind struggled to control non-human bodies.
AI assistants came to the rescue, however. They helped ordinary people live out weird fantasies without their minds shattering or the neural immersion breaking.
Dolls were one step better, however. They excelled at impossible neural play. However, the AR models they used could sometimes be too complicated and cause migraines and other health issues in humans.
Babylon strictly regulated the presence of AR on the streets. These dolls were modded to dodge those regulations, which was why the Archangels were actively policing the street.
“You should get some AR glasses,” Rie said, eying one particular doll.
“Find me a pair that even works with the current Altnet and maybe we’ll talk.”
For some reason, the eyes of every Archangel flashed. Apparently, he had given them an idea. They said nothing, however.
Eventually, the crowds thinned out completely. While a few dolls hung around outside businesses here, they were advertising a much more explicit product than up the street.
Nick stopped outside an understated building. Unlike much of the city, it was constructed from brick and painted black. Wooden fixtures decorated its exterior. The main entrance was a little farther down, but the Cobalt Lily was closed at this time.
Instead, they stood outside a small alcove. A pair of security dolls with bulky automatic shotguns stood guard inside. The guns were identical to the shotgun used by one of the Mark 3s this morning at the docks.
Up those stairs was the office of Lucas Miller, a Cipher that Nick hadn’t spoken to directly for years. And the man who had inadvertently set Nick on this path all those years ago.
“Well, let’s go say hi,” he said aloud.
CHAPTER 11
“Mister Miller isn’t seeing guests,” the security dolls intoned when Nick and the Archangels approached.
Both dolls were new Sigma Chevaliers, which were updated versions of the Lancer and competed with the G7. These were the dolls that Kim had been worried about. Unlike the Lancers, they were closer to the size of an average woman, but with the curves of a supermodel. Sigma knew their target market.
Rie opened her mouth to object, but Nick raised his hand.
“I’ll send Lucas a message,” he said, pulling out his phone.
He tapped something out, hit send, and waited. A few seconds later, the dolls seized up. Then they stepped aside and gestured to the stairs up.
“Welcome back, Mister Waite,” they said.
Nick wondered if they genuinely knew that he’d been here before, or if that was a programmed greeting.
When he stepped forward, the Archangels followed. Immediately, the Chevaliers blocked them.
“For security reasons, only one of you may accompany Mister Waite,” one of them said. Disdain dripped from her tone as she said “you” to the police dolls.
The Mark 1s gripped their weapons tightly, but Rie turned and waved for them to calm down.
“Lucas is an old friend of Nicholas,” she said. “I believe things will be fine. And you will be right outside, regardless.”
The responsive flash of eyes made it clear that the dolls weren’t as sure. However, they backed down with a nod.
“We shall wait for you here, Detective,” Twelve told Nick.
For some reason, Chloe and the two Mark 3s didn’t join in. He found out why when he walked up the stairs and they followed. The Chevaliers didn’t stop them.
Before he could turn and question them, Rie looped her arm around his and led him upward. That told him everything he needed to know.
Nothing had changed about Lucas’s office. It had an old-timey feel to it. Lots of dark wood, black marble, and dark shadows in the high ceilings. Lights dangled from chains. Nick felt as if he had stepped inside a movie filmed many decades ago.
Which was the entire point. Lucas was new money. While Neo Westphalia had been built by a bunch of tech billionaires who minted their wealth at the turn of the millennium, a new generation was making their dough from new technologies. And their values differed somewhat.
Nick took in all the physical decorations and was reminded of how few of these existed in his life right now. There had been a few at the tailor. Lucas had always appreciated the physical over the virtual. With the money he had, he didn’t need to rely on cheap AR.
If Nick had that money, would he find Babylon less dreary? Would it be less of a cold mass of steel and glass?
Another pair of Chevaliers awaited them upstairs.
“Welcome, Mister Waite. Mister Miller is waiting for you in his office,” they said.
Nick knew the way, and the Archangels followed closely behind him. Rie didn’t have a weapon on her, he belatedly realized. Or at least, a visible weapon. Perhaps she had some sort of energy weapon or handgun concealed inside her armor.
Although that would introduce a structural weakness. He’d be genuinely surprised if she had any hidden compartments.
The office was small, which made sense given it was for a small business. Lucas probably used this place to entertain guests and for accounting.
A doll sat behind a large oak desk outside a closed door. No, not a doll, Nick realized. An interface. Her eyes were vacant.
Interfaces were humanoid shells that mainframes used to physically interact with the world. They had little functional purpose, but they had become a trend with the boom in emotion engines. Company executives liked the idea that the AI that ran their companies was a “person” they could talk to. Unlike dolls, interfaces even came in male versions.
“I see Lucas finally upgraded you, Lumen,” he said.
The woman’s eyes regained their life. Then she looked up at him.
Unlike dolls, she was almost impossible to tell apart from a human. Only the barcode and serial number engraved in blue ink beneath her left eye, plus the silver bands on her wrists, gave her away. Interfaces never left a factory without these distinguishing features.
She had bobbed white hair with blue highlights, vivid blue eyes, and wore a sleeveless black dress. The cobalt theme was hard to miss.
“Nick. It has been several years. We never had the opportunity to speak outside of a terminal,” Lumen said, her tone exceedingly professional. “It is good to see you. Lucas has missed you.”
“Has he?”
“I imagine so. The new Ciphers lack your efficiency.” She tilted her head. “Are you here to provide maintenance?”
Rie looked at him sidelong with a strange expression.
“I’ll talk to Lucas about it,” he said.
“Thank you. I hope your meeting is productive.” She turned away from him and her eyes became vacant again.
The doors to Lucas’s office opened. Lumen had presumably kept them closed to force him to talk to her.
“She’s an older mainframe, isn’t she?” Rie asked as they stepped over the threshold and turned the final corner.
“Lucas tinkers with her, but she’s a logic engine he bought about 15 years ago,” Nick said. “I played with her directives a lot when I used to work here.”
The time for small talk was over, however. Lucas finally came into sight.
Along with a bunch of his thugs.
Lucas leaned back on a massive leather throne, his arms behind his head. He wore a silver suit, which contrasted strongly with his dark skin, and a pair of mirrored glasses framed his face. Amethyst earrings dangled on either side, but were intentionally mismatched in length. His hair was dark, neatly combed, but substantially longer than it had been the last time Nick had seen him.
His thugs were a mixture of suited men and women, all packing bulky handguns on their hips. Most had visible cybernetics, usually replacement limbs, although one had some patchwork done to his face. Probably a burn victim.
“Nick, long time, no see. Not sure I approve of your new friends, though,” Lucas said, staring at Rie.
“I see you still wear those stupid AR glasses. Do they even do anything when you have an implant?” Nick asked.
A few of the thugs tensed, but Lucas laughed. Nick walked forward and leaned across the massive desk. The two men shook hands, and Nick tried not to wince as Lucas’s cybernetic hand tried to crush his.
“And you still haven’t fixed your damn hand,” Nick said, shaking the feeling back into his hand.
“I built this thing to crack skulls open, not hand out pansy-ass handshakes.” Lucas sat back down, then flipped a vape pen out from inside his arm. “Sit down. I hope this isn’t a shakedown.”
“Do the Archangels usually approach politely during shakedowns?” Nick asked.
Lucas glanced at Rie, then shrugged. “No. But then, the prototypes usually don’t walk around in public. You’re giving me shit about my AR glasses, but I’m wearing them for damn good reason. I can control what I see with these, unlike this.” The smuggler tapped the side of his head.
Rie smiled. “You don’t need to pretend that your implant isn’t modded, Lucas. It is considered a permissible implant.”
His face turned stony. “Permissible, huh? Can’t say I appreciate the idea that what I do with my implant is your business.”
“You do business in Babylon. You know how this works,” Nick said, trying to defuse the tension. “With that said, I think you’re overstating how effective your glasses are. Your mod shuts out the neural network, right? But your glasses still need a connection to work. Augmented reality only works if you receive the augmented part. Otherwise it’s just reality.”
Lucas snorted and fiddled with his glasses. “Sure. But these are locked off from the security bands and encrypted. I can’t see everything, but I still get access to assisted aiming and more Cipher shit than you get.”
Rie’s smile never wavered. Lucas had just admitted that his AR glasses were illegal, as they had been modded to prevent access over the security bands.
Nick sighed. “Lucas, don’t freak out. But how many Archangels walked into the room with me?”
Silence. Lucas looked around the room, his eyes hidden behind the mirrored lenses. Then he lowered the glasses and his expression tightened.
“Fuck me,” he breathed out. “Mark 3s. When the fuck did they get here? And how did they do that?”
“Maybe your glasses weren’t as encrypted as you thought, old man,” Chloe said with a smirk.
The thugs looked at Lucas in confusion. If they heard Chloe, they showed no signs of it.
“I think you might want to show yourself, Chloe,” Nick said, turning in his chair.
“Stay steady, boys,” Lucas said, raising his hands in a calming gesture.
Something happened, imperceptible to Nick. The thugs swore and reached for their guns.
“I said. Stay. Steady,” Lucas roared.
His thugs froze, then returned to their resting poses. The Archangels hadn’t even flinched. Even if a weapon had been drawn, they could have just shut down the nervous system of the gunman.
“Quite the show of force. Alright. I get it. You’re not here to put me out of business. Then why are you here? And what are you doing here, Nick?” Lucas grunted out between puffs of his vape pen.
“I’m a detective now. They made me a great offer.”
Lucas snorted. “A financially great offer, or the sort of great offer with an implied bullet point?”
“Both. First one, then the other,” Nick said.
The Archangels shot Nick a nasty look, while the smuggler laughed.
“Detective, huh. Hell of a step up from the kid I hired to keep Lumen running squeaky clean.” Lucas paused. “You should give her a check-up on the way out. Half the directives you gave her are still churning away, but they pop up some odd codes.”
“You didn’t reset her before the interface upgrade?”
“Nah. Too much history to lose. She’s a little odd, but that’s normal for logic engines in interfaces. Can’t give her any of the fancy modules, so she just runs the club and my finances. I have a new mainframe with all the bells and whistles for the imports side of things,” Lucas said.
