《Emancipation Machination》 Cyber hands & Ghost Limb Syndrome (GSL) It was dark and his helmet¡¯s visor was partially frosted on the outside. The station¡¯s life support had just turned on a few minutes ago and the atmosphere was slowly turning from oxygen frost into its gaseous form. He was looking for something, nervous sweat made his eyes itch and he expected enemies around every corner. That¡¯s when he saw it, the bomb. It was complex too complex to disarm before the timer ran out. Not seeing any other way, he had to take the bomb and jettison it into space. He couldn¡¯t just grab it; he saw the magnetic trigger that would detonate if it was removed from the wall. He reached for his plasma torch and started to cut the wall itself. It was going to be close. His teammates should be here to help him, but they weren¡¯t, where were they? As he was cutting, his hands went numb, and started twitching. He couldn¡¯t hold the torch as it slipped from his fingers. He watched as it fell to the floor and the timer counted down. 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­ A flash, pain and¡­ Peter woke up in sweat. It was 06:52 and he had slept less than thirty minutes. He got up and watched the sun rise through his bedroom window after yet another restless night in Paradise Heights, the small condominium complex located on the beach a few kilometers north of Occinus City, capital of Occinus IV. It had been weeks since his last good night¡¯s sleep. To make a bad situation worse, he had lost control over his cybernetic forearm and hands. The loss had started slowly, a simple decrease of sensitivity, followed by random twitches or clenching of his fists, but had eventually become a complete loss of control and feedback. Sitting up on the edge of his bed, Peter looked at his right arm. He could still see the faint scar etching his muscled bicep, courtesy of an armor-piercing round, years ago. He let his gaze continue down to the elbow, where his skin joined seamlessly with the matte-black carbon nanoweave that covered the cybernetic implant. The internal armor plates made sleek lines along his forearm and angular shapes on his hand. Peter¡¯s left arm was almost identical with its matte-black skin from fingers to elbow, his left bicep had no scar and it had a holo-interface near the wrist, positioned like a watch. Still looking at his hands, Peter tried to make fists and cursed as he failed to do more than twitch his fingers. ¡°Fuck!¡± He slammed his right hand on the nightstand. He felt nothing. The sound of the impact still echoing, Peter got up and walked to the bathroom. Even with the limiter installed at the end of his service, the cybernetic hands were more than three times stronger than his own had ever been. He had had nightmares where he crushed his dick while pissing, where his fist clenched in an explosion of blood and pain. That always woke him up. Since then, he¡¯d chosen to piss sitting down. Still on the toilet, Peter used his Netlink to go online and do some research on GLS, or Ghost Limb Syndrome. Using his cybernetic eyes to view the results without an external display, Peter read from medical sites and personal blogs about the loss of feeling, the involuntary movements and loss of control. They all confirmed what he feared most: he was suffering from GLS. He realized that for weeks, he¡¯d been in denial, that this could never happen to him. But now, he had no control over his hands, he couldn¡¯t continue denying. Still, every time he thought to go to a clinic, a cold sweat broke out, his stomach became unsettled and a headache came on. After thinking on this and his situation, he realized that his fear probably came from when his encephalon was shut down and his implant limiters were installed. Realizing that his situation would only get worse and not wanting to face permanent nerve damage, Peter decided that his fear was stupid and he started to look for a nearby clinic where he could get help. He found many, but chose a Genutech clinic, located downtown. There were two generic cyber clinics closer, but since his implants were also Genutech, it made the most sense. Before getting up, Peter used the holo-interface in his left arm to run a quick diagnostic. Feedback levels were in the red, at 4.2%; nominal range being between 70% and 85%. Wireless power reception was nominal at 86% and emergency battery life was full, at its legislated 4 hours. The medical readout showed his medications were being circulated at their last dosages within his body, but it clearly wasn¡¯t enough anymore. Peter tried again to increase the dosage, but the Artificial Awareness built into his implants prevented the unauthorized tampering and he didn¡¯t want to outright hack it. ¡°AA my ass,¡± he mumbled, leaving the bathroom. Walking into the kitchen, Peter couldn¡¯t help but see the broken glasses and cups on the table, their contents long spilled and dried amongst bent cutlery and cracked plates; all innocent victims of Peter¡¯s uncontrolled spasms. He opened the fridge and grabbed two slices of yesterday¡¯s pizza. He¡¯d been ordering from the Tower of Pizza for the last few days; they made the best pizza he¡¯d found on this planet, and their pies tasted just as good cold as when they arrived steaming hot. Sure, the congealed cheese didn¡¯t look very appetizing, but Peter didn¡¯t care. Once he¡¯d eaten, he drank from the kitchen sink, careful not to damage the faucet again. Peter dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt and checked the weather and news via his Netlink. The time was 07:40 and the day was going to be hot, dry and sunny, with a high of 38 C. News headlines indicated the transit operators were on strike again, the bus drivers starting to picket against the introduction of Quantum Artificial Intelligence-equipped buses. Curious, and to distract himself, Peter checked further into the story. It seemed that the ancient tradition of bus driving was going the way of taxi drivers, being replaced with self-driving vehicles. Although, unlike Auto-cabs with their swarm AA, the buses were going with QAIs, probably for safety and liability reasons. Some of the debate seemed to revolve around the QAIs themselves, how, when in a robot body, they were legislated as artificial workers, but when stationary or in a vehicle, like a starship, or it seems, a bus, they were not. The bus drivers were on strike to have the bus QAIs qualified as artificial laborers, which would drastically increase their costs and slow their adoption. Peter checked the schedule, but his area was not yet served by the QAI buses. In the schedule¡¯s headline, the Occinus Transit Authorities advised travelers to plan for longer wait times and full buses. Peter decided that a walk would be better than a long wait and an overcrowded bus ride. He grabbed his vest, so he¡¯d have pockets to hide his hands in and left the apartment, pausing in the hallway to say, ¡°Apartment: lock and secure!¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Unit 704: locked-and-secured,¡± answered the apartment¡¯s AA in its mechanical voice. Peter wished the strata council would upgrade the AA to a new QAI, but the previous month¡¯s meeting minutes had indicated such an upgrade would cost more than $2,000,000 for an adequate QAI. While he himself wouldn¡¯t have minded paying the $25,000 share per unit, the majority did not. He had bought into Paradise Heights because it only had 80 large units and was close to the beach, just one block away in fact. In the rest of the neighborhood, the average apartment was around 70 square meters, less than half his, at 160 square meters. I guess being stuck with a dumb AA in a large apartment still beats having a QAI in a closet, he thought. After a quick elevator ride, Peter left through the south lobby. When he reached the sidewalk, he headed downtown, further south. He was grateful that nearly all private and commercial vehicular traffic was restricted to the underground roadways, away from pedestrians. Thanks to surface streets being reserved for buses and emergency vehicles, walking was a quiet and pleasant experience. Even in the downtown district, the surface roads were free from honk-rage and gridlock. Peter thought that with the advent of self-driving cars, traffic jams should be a thing of the past, but no. Too many drivers still insist on manual driving, which causes all automated cars to be stuck at the speed of human reactions and distractions. Peter, used to the brisk pace of the military, reached the clinic at 09:03. Genutech¡¯s double-helix logo gleamed above the glass entrance. The clinic occupied a small portion of the ground floor of a skyscraper that took up the entire city block. To the left of the clinic was a loan broker and to its right an insurance company, both catering to cybernetic implants. Inside, the waiting room was well-lit, both from discreet holo-lights and from natural light shining through the glassed entrance on the east wall of the clinic. The north wall was filled with holo-displays showing news, TV shows and adverts for Genutech implants. The south wall had two doors for the bathrooms and shelves on either side, filled with informational brochures. Peter noticed how quiet the waiting room was: the holo-displays were as silent as the patients. Peter¡¯s ocular implant informed him that there were 120 seats for patients, and a total of 73 patients. Ten nurses sat behind the processing desks along the western wall. Most of the patients were using wireless ear buds or their Netlink to tune into either music or the holo-displays. Peter queried the selection with his Netlink but was unimpressed. Before disconnecting from the system, he logged himself as a waiting patient and started his stopwatch from his Netlink. Now in queue, he took a seat facing away from the holo-displays and waited. Two hours, seven minutes and forty-two seconds went by before his turn, at Processing Desk 4. ¡°Welcome to the Downtown Genutech Cyber-clinic, sir,¡± said the nurse, a man in his late 20s with bright-blue eyes in an otherwise plain face. ¡°Please have a seat Mr. Gordon.¡± He indicated the chair in front of his desk. ¡°Thanks.¡± Peter sat. ¡°I need to see a doctor.¡± ¡°Of course. I have your check-in form here, but I¡¯ll need to confirm your ID and the purpose of your visit, sir.¡± ¡°I¡¯m here because I have problems sleeping and controlling some of my implants. I think it¡¯s GLS,¡± Peter said, as he confirmed his ID via Netlink. ¡°I have your records here, Mr. Gordon. I see that you are a retired veteran with full benefits; there will be no charge for today¡¯s visit.¡± The nurse finished updating Peter¡¯s record and stood up. ¡°Please follow me; I will take you to Examination Room 4. Doctor Ryan Collins will see you shortly.¡± Peter followed the nurse towards a single door behind the processing desks, and down a wide hallway to the examination room. There were ten numbered doors in the corridor. Peter wondered if it was a coincidence, or if each processing desk had its own room The nurse opened door number four. ¡°Please make yourself comfortable. The Doctor will be here momentarily.¡± Peter looked around the room: the layout was simple, clean and efficient. The ceiling was equipped with a very sophisticated holographic system. He sat in one of the room¡¯s three chair, facing the door and started another stopwatch while he waited. Precisely eight minutes later, the door opened and a tall woman appearing to be in her forties entered. Her name tag identified her as Doctor Ryan Collins. ¡°Good morning, Mr. Gordon,¡± the doctor said, closing the door behind her. ¡°Good morning, Doctor. Please call me Peter.¡± ¡°Of course, Peter. How may I help you today?¡± Peter raised both hands. ¡°I can¡¯t sleep, and I¡¯ve lost control of my implants and can¡¯t feel anything from them. They also randomly twitch or clench.¡± ¡°May I connect to your implants?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Peter accepted the connect request via his Netlink. ¡°You have access.¡± The ceiling¡¯s holographic system activated and displayed all of Peter¡¯s implants by model and date installed. Frowning, the doctor said, ¡°This can¡¯t be right; it says here that your implants were installed almost two hundred years ago. How could that be?¡± Crossing his arms, Peter answered. ¡°I was a space marine, spent a lot of time in cryo-sleep. That should be in my file.¡± ¡°My apologies¡ªI didn¡¯t get a chance to read your file before seeing you.¡± Turning back to the holo-display, the doctor resumed her investigation. ¡°Based on the readings from your implants, it appears you have the early symptoms of GLS¡± ¡°I already told your nurse that.¡± ¡°Yes, and I already apologized for not having read your file. May I continue?¡± Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ¡°Yes, continue.¡± ¡°As I was saying, you have the early symptoms of GLS. If left untreated, your eyes, ears and even Netlink will also become affected. To prevent that, I¡¯d like to get some blood samples so I can adjust your meds.¡± ¡°Here,¡± said Peter, presenting his left bicep. Using a bio-sampler, the doctor took the necessary blood from Peter. ¡°Okay, I have the sample; please wait while I review the results.¡± ¡°What does¡ª¡± The doctor raised her hand sharply to silence Peter. Her eyes flicked rapidly over the holo-display. ¡°This confirms what I suspected, you¡¯ve built up a low-level immunity to the anti-rejection drug and the neurotransmitter boosters.¡± she said after a moment. ¡°I will do a preliminary adjustment to your implant¡¯s medication system.¡± Without looking at Peter, she connected again to the implant and made the adjustments. Peter knew she must have also noticed his attempts at self-medication in the AA¡¯s logs, but she said nothing. ¡°I¡¯ve adjusted the implants; all your symptoms should subside within an hour. Do you have any other questions?¡± ¡°No, not really,¡± answered Peter. ¡°I would also like to check you for Cyber Psychosis, I think¨C¡± Peter jumped to his feet. ¡°What do you mean, Cyber Psychosis? I may not be able to sleep, but I¡¯m not going crazy!¡± ¡°Please sit down, Mr. Gordon,¡± the doctor said, her voice controlled. ¡°I would like to check for signs of Cyber Psychosis because sleeplessness is usually one of its first symptoms. Irritability is another one. Some also develop obsessive compulsive behaviors as well.¡± Peter sat down, thinking back on his recent habit of timing everything, this did not put him at ease. ¡°All right. How?¡± ¡°I need to install a temporary monitor behind one of your ears to record your brain activity. For best results, you will also need to start a diary or journal. You can write about anything in your past, but the more details you recall, the more accurate the report will be. Try to use a pen or a keyboard instead of your Netlink. Do you have any questions about this process?¡± I¡¯m not going crazy, Peter repeated to himself, but all he said out loud was, ¡°Not really. You can install your monitor behind my right ear.¡± He lifted his unruly curls. Doctor Ryan opened a drawer and pulled out a short silver wand. She touched Peter gently behind his right ear. ¡°Done. Please come back in a week: we will check the monitor¡¯s logs. Make at least one diary entry before you come back. Goodbye, Peter. When you leave, the exit is to your right.¡± ¡°Thanks, Doctor.¡± Peter waited for the doctor to go and the door to close before leaving. He regained full use of his hands before arriving home. Prejudice, violence and bullets As Peter approached his apartment, he was passed by a very full bus. The bus stopped a few meters ahead of him and a fellow tenant emerged carrying two grocery bags that appeared to be very heavy. Peter couldn¡¯t recall her name but remembered her from the apartment¡¯s Netboard; a few months ago, she had posted her honeymoon pictures. He recalled how cute they had looked, two grandmothers getting married in white. Seeing her struggle, Peter headed over to help her. ¡°Here, let me help you with your bags,¡± said Peter. ¡°Why thank you, that¡¯s...¡± She paused, noticing Peter¡¯s hands. ¡°¡­not necessary,¡± she finished. ¡°I can manage on my own.¡± Peter¡¯s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. He let her walk by and watched her until she entered the building. Then he took a few calming breaths and followed her inside. Once in his apartment, he headed immediately towards the small bar in his living room. He poured himself a good measure of gin and raised it to drink. As the glass touched his lips, Peter paused and put the glass down. Never when I¡¯m angry, he thought. Abandoning the gin, Peter went instead into his third bedroom, which he had converted into a small dojo. He tested his hands again and smiled as they responded fully. For the first time in weeks, Peter practiced his martial arts he had learned in the Marines. Two hours passed before he stopped. He looked at his hands and smiled. I¡¯m back! he thought. Covered in sweat, he headed for the shower, where he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the water running over his hands, down his forearms and over his shoulders. He tried to feel the difference between the implants and his own arms and could not. Still smiling as he dried and dressed himself, Peter decided to clean up his apartment. He spent more time than he needed to, but he wanted to savor and celebrate the returned use of his hands. Work finished, Peter returned to the abandoned gin glass and took it with him to the den. Pulling out his keyboard, he started to work on a diary. For a moment he hesitated, unsure where to start. Finally, he began writing about how he lost his hands. Interrupted by a growl from his stomach, Peter was startled to realize it was 20:03. He¡¯d been writing for more than five hours. He got up, stretched, and walked over to the refrigerator. Finding only an empty pizza box and two cans of beer, he decided to go out. ¡°Apartment: lock and secure,¡± he said when he was in the hallway. ¡°Unit 704: locked-and-secured,¡± replied the AA. Peter left via the north lobby, facing the beach, and headed for the seawall walkway. The sun had already set, but the last of the purple hues of sunset lingered, fading to blackness and stars. His stomach reminded him again of his purpose and he headed east, towards the marina and seaside restaurant and pub neighborhood. Peter was so happy with his hands he¡¯d forgotten to wear a vest with pockets to hide them when he left. Walking along the seawall, he caressed the railing, enjoying the feel of the wood under his fingers, blissfully unaware of the stares his hands elicited. ¡°Royal Palm Grill¡± proclaimed the holo-display above the restaurant. Peter entered, ignored two couples waiting for a seat, and walked over to the bar. ¡°Hi, George,¡± said Peter. ¡°Long time no see,¡± said George. ¡°How have you been?¡± Peter looked left and right, leaned closer and said, ¡°Well, I had issues with my hands. GLS.¡± ¡°Took you long enough. I had my first issue with that shit less than a year after my leg was replaced.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t remember that.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because we hadn¡¯t met yet.¡± George smiled, showing perfect white teeth. ¡°Well, us ex-Marines got to stick together. Did you ever consider getting your military implant replaced with a civilian leg?¡± ¡°I consider it every time I take my pants down in front of a new girl. Most of them leave, but that¡¯s civilian life for you.¡± ¡°Why haven¡¯t you, then?¡± ¡°Same reasons you haven¡¯t¡ªpride, for one.¡± ¡°I also read civilian cybernetic implants aren¡¯t as reliable. And they¡¯re even more prone to GLS.¡± ¡°I read the same thing.¡± George shook his head. ¡°You want your usual table outside?¡± ¡°Sir, Yes, Sir!¡± answered Peter, saluting at attention, his heels making a sharp snap. ¡°Cut that crap out, Mr. Gunnery Sergeant, you know I never made it past Corporal.¡± ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re a Major Chef in your restaurant,¡± said Peter. ¡°Ah, ha, you¡¯re so funny. Just for that, I ought to burn your meal. Go sit, I¡¯ll have Lisa see to you right away.¡± ¡°Thanks. See you later, George.¡± Peter walked out to the terrace, headed for one of the tables marked RESERVED, and sat down. A few minutes later, he heard Lisa¡¯s heavy footsteps. ¡°May-I-take-your-order-sir,¡± asked Lisa, a first-generation waitress drone, imported all the way from Earth back when George had immigrated to Occinus IV. ¡°You look lovely today, Lisa, did you change your hair?¡± ¡°May-I-take-your-order-sir,¡± asked Lisa again, her limited programing unable to respond. ¡°What¡¯s today¡¯s special?¡± ¡°Today¡¯s-special-is-chicken-cordon-bleu-stuffed-with-brie-and-apples.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°I¡¯ll have that.¡± ¡°One-special-coming-up,¡± answered Lisa. Peter watched Lisa slowly walk away. He¡¯d always wondered why George kept such an antique but had never got around to asking him. Ignored by the other patrons in the crowded restaurant, Lisa entered the kitchen. After a few moments she emerged again, carrying a tray bearing a glass of water and breadbasket. Peter watched a teenager try to trip her as she walked past his table. He smiled when kid failed, and Lisa continued walking, the water in the glass remaining level. Must be nice having a gyrostabilizer, thought Peter. Behind her, the kid laughed with his friends. Peter shook his head. He¡¯d never understood why most civilians on this planet were now so hostile to clones, synthetics, robots, or cyborgs like him. It hadn¡¯t been like this on his last visit before his permanent relocation 29 years ago. ¡°Here-is-your-bread-and-water,¡± Lisa said. ¡°Thanks.¡± Peter turned toward the promenade leading to the marina and watched the crowd until his dinner arrived, placed on the table with mechanical precision by Lisa. ¡°Enjoy-your-meal.¡± Lost in thought, Peter ate his meal slowly. He checked the timer and his order took 14 minutes to arrive. As usual, the daily special was very good. He connected to the restaurant¡¯s localnet using his Netlink and paid his bill, then checked the time: 21:48. Still not sleepy, he got up, waved at George, and left the restaurant. He headed to a nearby club with a long lineup of attractive young men and women. The holosign showed dancing stick figures in a shifting rainbow of colors and the club¡¯s name flashed randomly Sticks. Peter walked over to the bouncer and extended his cybernetic fist. The bouncer, standing at 212 centimeters, was a very large and overly muscular black man, about the same age as Peter. He tapped the proffered fist with his own. ¡°Respect.¡± ¡°Respect,¡± answered Peter. ¡°How are things tonight, Alex?¡± ¡°Quiet so far. Try not to start anything.¡± ¡°Who, me?¡± said Peter, batting his eyelashes and holding his hands in prayer. Laughing loudly, Alex unhooked the red rope preventing access to the club and let Peter through. He promptly put the rope back as a prim teen tried to slip through. ¡°What the fuck? Why¡¯re you letting the freak through?¡± yelled the teen. Alex answered by backhanding the kid across the face. ¡°That ¡®freak,¡¯ as you call him, saved my life. Get the hell out of here before I decide to do more, shithead.¡± The teenager, helped by his friend, left the line. Peter, smiling, made his way to the bar. ¡°I¡¯ll have a double gin and tonic.¡± ¡°That¡¯ll be fifteen credits,¡± said the bartender. Using his Netlink, Peter paid eighteen credits. He picked up his drink and headed for the second floor, where he found a stool by the railing overlooking the dance floor. His hands caused a few raised eyebrows, but no one said anything to him. When his drink was done, a waitress walked over. ¡°Would you like anything else, sir?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have another gin and tonic.¡± When the waitress had left, Peter glanced around and saw that the three young women at the table behind him were staring at his hands. When they noticed him looking back, one of them approached. ¡°Hi, my name is Nicole. Do those hurt?¡± she asked, pointing to Peter¡¯s hands. Peter looked to the heavens before answering, ¡°No.¡± ¡°Can I touch them?¡± asked Nicole, already reaching for Peter¡¯s right hand. ¡°Wow, they are warm! Your skin feels more like silk than metal! How come? Did you do this on purpose? Why didn¡¯t you get normal-looking ones? Can you feel it when I touch you?¡± Unable to answer the barrage of questions, Peter remained silent. ¡°You can¡¯t just ignore me, I¡¯ve got rights, you know! How¡¯d you get in here, anyways? You¡¯re old and ugly! Why must all the stupid tourists come to sit with me?¡± ¡°Sorry, sir, please excuse Nicole; she¡¯s had one too many,¡± said one of Nicole¡¯s friends, dragging her away. Peter decided he¡¯d had enough. Without waiting for his second drink, he got up, paid for it via his Netlink and left the club. ¡°Take care, Alex,¡± he said to the bouncer on his way out. ¡°See you later.¡± ¡°Take care, Peter. See you later.¡± A few minutes after Peter had left the noise and lights of the promenade behind, his walk home was interrupted by the scream of a woman. It was a sharp noise, full of fear and pain. Peter used his cybernetic ears and pinpointed the origin, less than twenty-five meters away, in the alleyway he had just passed. He turned and ran quickly towards the sound. As he arrived at the corner, he heard, ¡°Shut up, you fucking whore!¡±, followed by another pained yelp. Still behind the corner, he used his pinky-cam to see without exposing himself and saw two men standing over a crying woman¡ªa woman who, even disheveled, dirty and with a split lip, was strikingly beautiful. His onboard tactical system detected a knife and a small handgun. Minimal threat. ¡°What the fuck do you guys think you¡¯re doing?¡± asked Peter, as he stepped into the alley. ¡°Stay out of this!¡± answered the first man. Peter used his Netlink to call the police and used his ocular implants to start recording what he saw. ¡°Let her go, now.¡± ¡°She¡¯s just a clone, either join or walk away,¡± said the second man. ¡°Last chance,¡± said Peter. ¡°You asked for it!¡± said the first man. He pulled a large knife from his belt and came at Peter. Peter easily ducked under the man¡¯s clumsy swipe. Trying not to break bones, he hit him hard in the solar plexus with an open palm. The man dropped his knife, took two steps back, gasping for breath, and fell. ¡°You¡¯re dead, man!¡± said the second assailant; he pulled a small pistol and pointed it in Peter¡¯s general direction. Reacting instantly, Peter jumped forward and reached for the gun. It went off just as he reached it. The hollow point round struck Peter¡¯s outstretched palm and mushroomed against the nanoweave skin and internal armor of his cybernetic hand. Unaffected, Peter violently disarmed the man, taking his index finger with the gun. In less than a second, Peter had released the clip and emptied the chamber. He used the man¡¯s own gun and knocked him out with a precise blow to the forehead. He turned to the first man and kicked him in the head, knocking him out as well. Then he turned to the woman. ¡°Are you all right?¡± The woman sobbed uncontrollably, unable to answer. ¡°I¡¯ve called the police; they should be here shortly,¡± said Peter as he knelt. He offered his hand to help her up and was startled to see the forgotten bullet still stuck to his palm. ¡°Oh my God, you¡¯ve been shot!¡± said the woman, her sobbing stopped by surprise. ¡°It¡¯s all right, it didn¡¯t penetrate.¡± The woman looked over Peter¡¯s hand and gently picked up the bullet. He noticed her irises were yellow¡ªthat confirmed her attackers¡¯ claim that she was a clone. ¡°Thank you for saving me,¡± she said. ¡°My name is Alyssa. Today is my first day of freedom; I didn¡¯t know it was going to be like this.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Peter¡ª¡± Peter broke off and turned as three policemen entered the alleyway. They quickly took charge of the situation. One officer cuffed the unconscious assailants, another took Alyssa aside, and the last, a sergeant, approached Peter. ¡°Are you Peter Gordon?¡± asked the sergeant. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re the one who reported the crime in progress?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Can you describe what happened?¡± ¡°I can do better; I recorded the whole thing.¡± The sergeant extended his PDA and asked, ¡°Can you upload it to my device?¡± ¡°One moment.¡± Peter used his Netlink to upload the video. The sergeant replayed the video and said, ¡°That was very brave of you, sir. We have your contact information. Do you have any plans to leave town?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Are you willing to testify if necessary?¡± asked the sergeant. ¡°Of course, why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± answered Peter. ¡°Well...she¡¯s a clone and they¡¯re humans. Not everyone would stand up for a clone.¡± ¡°I will testify if necessary.¡± ¡°I understand, sir. Thank you for your cooperation. You will be contacted if we require further assistance.¡± Before leaving, Peter turned to Alyssa. ¡°Will you be all right?¡± ¡°I will, and thanks again for helping, Peter.¡± ¡°Happy to help, take care.¡± Alyssa waved once and left with the police officer. Peter walked back home, still feeling the rush of adrenaline. He looked at his palm, smiled, and brushed off the remaining flecks from the bullet. Robots, Police & Clones After hours of tossing and turning, Peter finally checked the time: it was 01:51. Still lying down, his blankets on the floor, Peter raised his hand in front of him and smiled as his hand closed easily into a fist. Then he brought the fist down violently on the nightstand. ¡°Ouch!¡± He rubbed his hand, knowing that action to be purely reflex. His cyber hand was not damaged, but the feedback had told him the impact smarted, and rubbing it made him feel better. Still smiling, Peter stood up and walked over to the bathroom. He was about to sit down again but thought better of it and pissed standing. ¡°That¡¯s the stuff,¡± he said. His business done, he washed his hands and brushed his teeth. The mirror in front of him reflected a very hairy version of himself. Playing with his long and unkempt beard, Peter decided to keep it for the time being. Walking back into his bedroom, he got dressed again and left the apartment. ¡°Apartment: lock and secure!¡± said Peter. ¡°Unit 704: locked-and-secured,¡± answered the AA. Leaving the building via the north lobby, he walked again towards the beach, but this time turned left, shunning the marina promenade in favor of the undeveloped beachfront natural park to the west. At nearly two in the morning, he was unsurprised to find he was alone on the seawall. Walking leisurely, he took in the sights. He admired the waves, slightly phosphorescent from the native plankton. His gaze was drawn from the reflection of Occinus¡¯s two moons to the stars in the sky. Even accounting for the city glare, the night sky was bare compared to Earth¡¯s. Peter sighed. The night sky the only thing he truly missed about Earth. For all its glory and being the center of the human conglomerate, it was still an overcrowded and polluted shit pit. Peter¡¯s reminiscence was interrupted by an unexpected sight: a new pedestrian pier extending on the ocean. It hadn¡¯t been there the last time Peter came that way¡ªhe¡¯d expected to find the end of the seawall and the end of human expansion. Instead, he was greeted with bright lights, a new park, three new condominium complexes and a large hotel under construction. As he thought back on it, Peter realized he had not walked that way in more than four years. Curious about the new pier, Peter headed towards it. On the pier¡¯s landing, he found a small building that housed unisex restrooms and individual locking shower stalls. Towards the water were 16 tables with built-in seats in four rows of four. As he continued his walk toward the ocean, the lights grew less frequent. At the end of the pier, he was nearly in the dark. For nearly an hour he watched the crawl of the moons across the bare black sky, matched by their reflection on the ocean. Finally, he turned and started the slow walk back to his apartment. As he neared the building at the pier¡¯s landing, Peter was surprised to hear someone call out to him. ¡°Hey, Ese, you like some food?¡± said an unknown voice. Peter looked around but didn¡¯t see anyone. All he saw were three vending machines. The machine on the left had a dog wearing a purple cloak and a crown and a holo-sign that proclaimed: ¡°Dog King.¡± The machine on the right was a very old pop and juice machine without any holo-sign. The center machine had a very advanced holo-display which made it appear like a food stand with a cook in the middle of it, the sign above said ¡°Mexi Max¡±. The holo-cook looked directly at Peter and said, ¡°You like some food?¡± ¡°What? No,¡± said Peter. ¡°Suit yourself, Ese.¡± Peter walked away from the strange talking vending machine and headed for the railing. As he approached the railing, he heard the deep baritone voice of a man playing with a dog below the pier. ¡°You want the ball? Go get the ball!¡± said the hidden voice. Peter saw an excited mutt run towards the ball, catch it and promptly return below the pier. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a good dog! Yes, you are! Do you want to fetch again?¡± the hidden voice said, interspersed with very excited barks. The tip of a mechanical hand, much like Peter¡¯s, became visible as the hidden man threw the ball again. Peter barely noticed the dog as he headed towards the stairs to see a fellow cyborg. But as he descended the steps, he stopped, dumbstruck, as he saw, not a man, but a very large construction robot. Face blank, Peter turned and climbed back up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and stared back down into the darkness. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± he said out loud. He had never heard a robot like that: it had sounded more human than he did most days. He couldn¡¯t leave it alone. He went back down to investigate, but when he reached bottom of the stairs, all that remained of the strange robot were footprints in the sand. After a frustrating and fruitless week of searching for the robot, Peter was again entering the Genutech Clinic, arriving at 10:17. His optical implant informed him that there were currently 59 patients, 6 of which were here last time he was. All 10 counters were staffed as well. Using his Netlink, Peter checked in and started a stopwatch. Looking around, he found a seat in a corner, far from the window and the washrooms. While he was waiting, his Netlink showed an incoming vid-call from the Occinus City Police Department. After a quick debate, Peter answered. ¡°Yes?¡± The image of the detective¡¯s upper torso and head appeared in Peter¡¯s HUD; he was well groomed, brown eyed with a thin mustache matching his light auburn hair. ¡°Mr. Gordon? This is detective Creed. I¡¯m handling the case you were involved with last week.¡± ¡°Yeah, I remember, what can I do for you?¡± The detective paused briefly ¡°Well, that¡¯s sort of a tricky situation. If you remember, when you disarmed the gun wielder, you also took his finger off. He¡¯s tried to press charges against you¡­¡± Peter¡¯s only response was to raise an eyebrow. ¡°If not for the footage you provided, it would have stuck. The clone you saved also decided not to press charges. This means that you are the only person that can decide if we proceed with this case or not.¡± While he listened to the detective, Peter did a quick search and downloaded an app. ¡°So, let me see if I¡¯ve got this. Because the clone dropped the charges, the moron with the gun tried to get me charged for assault?¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°That¡¯s about right Mr. Gordon. The footage you provided clearly shows self-defense, so it didn¡¯t stick. If you wish to drop the matter now, you can simply consent to clear the case and the matter will be dropped by all parties. Everybody wins.¡± ¡°Everybody except the clone, you mean.¡± ¡°Mr. Gordon, that¡¯s not relevant right now. Do I have your consent to clear the case?¡± ¡°No, you do not. According to the free lawyer app I just downloaded, I¡¯m the victim of two counts of assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder at the very least. I might have been willing to let the matter drop, but the fucktard tried to press charges against me.¡± His lips thinning, the detective said: ¡°Thank you for your time Mr. Gordon, I¡¯ll be in touch.¡± At which point he hung up. Looking around the clinic, Peter saw that about half the patients had already cycled through. To pass the time, he watched the combat video in question a few times and reviewed his own performance. He was interrupted by his Netlink advising him it was his turn at the processing desk number 4. His total wait time was 32 minutes. ¡°Welcome to the Downtown Genutech Cyber-clinic, sir.¡± said the nurse. Unlike his previous visit, this nurse was an attractive woman. After a closer look, her yellow eyes indicated that she was also a clone. ¡°Would you be more comfortable dealing with a human nurse or are you ok dealing with me?¡± Peter frowned slightly and asked: ¡°Aren¡¯t you a human too?¡± ¡°Technically yes, but I¡¯m a clone and I understand that some are not comfortable with this.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine, human or clone doesn¡¯t matter to me.¡± Showing a smile with a display of perfect teeth, the nurse said ¡°Thank you, sir. I¡¯ve already read your check-in form and I just need to confirm your ID and purpose of visit.¡± Peter uploaded his ID. ¡°I¡¯m here for a follow up. My meds were adjusted due to GLS. The doctor also placed a monitor behind my ear to check for Cyber Psychosis.¡±. ¡°Thank you, everything is in order. As with your previous visit, there will be no charge. Please follow me; I will take you to Examination Room 4. Doctor Ryan Collins will see you shortly.¡± Hope she read the fucking file this time. ¡°I¡¯m right behind you.¡± Peter was again led down the sterile corridor and to the door marked 4. The nurse opened the door for him and made a polite bow. ¡°Have a good day Mr. Gordon.¡± The room was exactly as it was for his last visit. Peter realized he didn¡¯t check his stopwatch when he was called to the nurse, but he reset it now. The total wait and processing time were one hour, fifty-two minutes and four seconds. After just over five minutes, there was a knock at the door. ¡°May I come in, Mr. Gordon?¡± asked Dr. Ryan. ¡°Please, it¡¯s your office after all¡±. ¡°How are the hands? I saw no mention of any issues in your check-in form.¡± ¡°No problems, they feel perfectly normal.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good. May I connect to them for a quick diagnostic?¡± Peter approved the connect request via his Netlink. The complex holo-diagnostic appeared again, but unlike his first visit, there was a warning indicator in his right hand¡¯s diagnostic. Dr. Ryan¡¯s face showed some concern as she looked over the data. ¡°Mr. Gordon, did something unusual occur with your right hand? I¡¯m showing an unusual amount of kinetic energy absorbed by your nanoweave skin and plating¡­¡± ¡°Right, I forgot to mention it in my check-in report, but I caught a bullet.¡± ¡°What? ¡­¡± ¡°Someone was about to shoot me, I reached for his gun to disarm him and it went off before I could take the weapon from him. It was just a small caliber pistol, nothing implants can¡¯t shrug off.¡± ¡°¡­ ok?¡± Dr. Ryan took a deep breath. ¡°It appears you are correct Mr. Gordon, according to the manufacturer¡¯s specs, your implant¡¯s ballistic rating is for SVR2, standard velocity medium rifle rounds.¡± ¡°That they are.¡± Peter pointed to the scar on his right bicep ¡°This was a three-round burst from an old K47 rifle, two hit the implant, that one didn¡¯t. Hurt like a bitch too!¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly something. Other than the bullet impact, your implants are showing everything within optimal parameters. Next, I need to connect to the monitor I installed. I must remove it, since it has no wireless capabilities. ¡°Please do¡± said Peter as he leaned forward and moved his hair out of the way. Dr. Ryan took a silver wand from a drawer and touched it behind Peter¡¯s ear. With just a simple touch, the monitor was removed painlessly. She placed the wand on the counter and it automatically activated the holo-readout. There was a complete representation of Peter¡¯s brain with the deactivated encephalon and all associated implants. There were hundreds of data screens. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of brain implants Mr. Gordon. I¡¯ve never seen anyone with so many¡­¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t had a lot of jarheads for patients then. Most marines end up with a lot of tech in their brains, if not their bodies. When the bullets are flying, you need every edge you can get. Although the arms were more of an accident than a choice.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my curiosity, how did you lose your arms?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t get into too many specifics, but while I was a space marine, I was part of a small commando unit. I was the infiltration specialist. That means I oversaw hacking, cracking, slicing or blowing my way into ships and facilities. During a hostage rescue mission, there was a bomb and there wasn¡¯t enough time to disarm it, so I grabbed it and ran for the airlock. I made it to the airlock and cycled it, but it blew up just as I was throwing it. Next thing I knew; I was in a hospital bed with stumps. I saved my team and over twenty people. I was given a medal and the choice to either regrow the arms or get implants. Considering re-growing my arms would take about 90 days VS cybernetic replacement with a recovery period of less than 10 days. It¡¯s pretty obvious which one I picked.¡± ¡°That¡¯s incredible, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d ever be able to stay besides a bomb, let alone take it in and run away with it!¡± With a shiver running up her back, she turned back to the readout. ¡°Back to our business at hand, the monitor was able to get a pretty good reading. I am concerned about a few things, one of them being a huge spike of adrenaline on the same day you got the monitor, but I¡¯m pretty sure that was when you caught a bullet. I¡¯m seeing a negative melatonin response from the GLS medication which might cause insomnia. Finally, I¡¯m also showing unusual spikes in your cortisol and adrenal levels. Are you feeling stressed or frustrated?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been having some issues falling asleep. I¡¯ve also been having a frustrating week searching for something that apparently doesn¡¯t fucking exist.¡± Peter flushed lightly at his language. ¡°Pardon the language.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ I can adjust the medication for the sleep issue, but since there is a reason for the high level of frustration, I¡¯d rather not medicate that right now, that is, unless you prefer to be medicated for that too.¡± ¡°Nope, what I have is more than enough. Before I agree to any new medications, can you send me what you were going to prescribe? I¡¯d like to research it before I make a decision.¡± ¡°Certainly, I¡¯ve just sent you the files.¡± ¡°Just got it, thanks.¡± Peter¡¯s Netlink just received a file from Dr. Ryan. Since she didn¡¯t visibly do anything, he assumed she used her own Netlink to send the file. ¡°I¡¯d like to put the monitor back on you and see you again in a week. Is that all right?¡± ¡°Please proceed.¡± Peter answered as he once again leaned forward and moved his hair out of the way. While waiting for the monitor, he quickly read the documentation he just received. Dr. Ryan again picked up the silver rod and touched Peter behind his ear. ¡°All done, Mr. Gordon.¡± Having seen no real issues with the new medication, Peter addressed Dr. Ryan before she stood from her chair ¡°I¡¯ve given it some thought, go ahead with the new meds.¡± With a brief smile, Dr. Ryan connected to Peter¡¯s implants to make changes to the medical program. She also reached to a dispenser as a small vial was being filled. She sent a request to access the medical compartment within Peter¡¯s implants and replaced the chemical vial. ¡°If you have any unusual symptoms or questions, don¡¯t hesitate to contact me. Otherwise, I will see you in a week.¡± ¡°Will do and thank you.¡± Peter bowed politely from his seat. Once the doctor had left the room, he got up, stretched his back and left the clinic. Walking outside the clinic, Peter used his Netlink to call his friend, Alex. Alex answered quickly, ¡°Hey Peter, how are you?¡± ¡°Mostly good, but I need to pick your brain. Where you at?¡± ¡°I¡¯m at the bar, we¡¯re setting up for this evening. Why don¡¯t you come over?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be there shortly.¡± Friends, Exs and orbital assault craft In the afternoon light and with the holo-adverts and signs off, the bar looked a lot less festive and inviting. The red carpet, free of a crowd to obscure it was badly worn and very dirty. Peter approached the door, connected to the bar¡¯s Localnet and pinged Alex. ¡°Come in, its open¡± said Alex through the intercom. Peter entered the bar and it looked much bigger now that it as empty. I¡¯ve never been here while this place was closed. Looking around, Peter saw Alex and four other bouncers as they helped the wait staff ready the bar for opening by putting the chairs and stools down. Peter waived. ¡°Hey Alex¡± ¡°Hey Peter, I¡¯ll be with you in a minute. Take a seat in the back.¡± Looking around, Peter selected a booth in the back corner, near the fire exit and sat down. Alex was along shortly after Peter was finished settling in. ¡°So, what¡¯s up buddy?¡± ¡°You remember I was here last week, right?¡± Peter waited for Alex¡¯s nod before continuing. ¡°That was a strange evening. After I left, I stopped some punks from beating a chick, did a citizen¡¯s arrest, couldn¡¯t sleep, went for a walk and ran into a construction robot playing with a dog that sounded more human than me.¡± ¡°Well, that can¡¯t be too hard, you look like a mutt most days¡­¡± ¡°Ha ha ha¡± answered Peter with a fine shake of his head. ¡°Moron, I meant the robot sounded human, not the dog.¡± ¡°I know; I was just pulling your leg. The assault in the back street, that was you? Police was here the day after showing pictures of two guys and asking if they were here. They wouldn¡¯t say what it was about, but a quick search showed a bunch of news feed Citizens assaulted by cyborg vigilante, or Mysterious stranger saves clone and so on. Large majority of the articles don¡¯t mention the clone though, only that two innocent civilians were assaulted by a cyborg.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of crap, here¡¯s the footage from my own POV.¡± Peter sent the vid file to Alex. After watching via his own implants, he said: ¡°Wow, that¡¯s fucked. I always said you were braver than smart.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t argue with you there.¡± Peter said as he smiled. ¡°Of course, you can¡¯t, if you were smarter, I¡¯d be dead. What was it, five or six times you saved my bacon?¡± ¡°It was four on purpose and once by accident. But that¡¯s not why I¡¯m here. I need your help with something.¡± ¡°Anything.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been looking for the construction robot I mentioned earlier. I¡¯ve tried to hack into every single construction site and most construction companies in the city. I found shit. What little information I was able to access didn¡¯t contain anything. What I need is too secure or can¡¯t be accessed outside the LocalNet,¡± ¡°Makes sense, so you¡¯d need to breach the Localnet of each site in person.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I figured as well.¡± ¡°So, what can I help you with?¡± ¡°I need my encephalon reactivated. If I had unrestricted access to all the hardware in my head, it wouldn¡¯t have taken me a week to hack all those places, I¡¯d have done it in a couple of hours. I wouldn¡¯t have more info and I¡¯d still need to breach the LocalNets, but I wouldn¡¯t have wasted so much time. I want to track down that robot. That means hacking more secure locations. I¡¯ll also likely need to access deleted or encrypted data.¡± ¡°Why ask me?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve had your own hardware re-activated for a while now.¡± ¡°Ehhh¡­ How¡¯d you know I had my hardware re-activated?¡± ¡°Dude, you¡¯re what? 210 centimeters and 250kgs with single digit body fat? You and the other bouncers here are spliced and juiced, but you don¡¯t move like they do.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Look, when you splice for size like you did, you lose some fine motor control. When you add juice to the mix, fine manipulations become jerky and inaccurate. Look at Big Nick, you¡¯ll see.¡± Alex turned his head, he watched as Big Nick easily pick up a heavy chair that sat upside down on the tabletop, flip it, put it down and slide it under the table. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± Said Alex. Peter looked up for a few seconds and sighed. ¡°Here, look at how you do it.¡± Peter sent another vid file to Alex. Alex watched himself from Peter¡¯s POV. He saw himself easily pick up a similar chair and set it under the table. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± ¡°Look, Big Nick picks up the chair, flips it, puts it down and then slides it under the table. He¡¯s had to do 4 movements, you do it in one.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ guess I¡¯ll have to be more careful then... Yeah, I know a guy.¡± Alex got a big grin on his face, ¡°Well, a girl actually.¡± ¡°No, ¡­¡± Peter grabbed the edge of the table and pushed himself away, a frown on his face. Alex crossed his massive arms over his chest, looking pleased with himself: ¡°You guessed it! Melinda, your ex! When you talked about this retirement paradise planet, we listened. All of the unit is here, on planet.¡± Alex looked down; his grin vanished. ¡°Those of us left anyways¡± Peter reached across the table and touched Alex on the arm for a few seconds. He sat back down and sighed. ¡°I knew you guys followed me, but why would she?¡± ¡°You¡¯d have to ask her¡­¡± ¡°Fine, give me her address, I¡¯ll go see her.¡± Alex grins again. ¡°Can¡¯t, she doesn¡¯t have one. She lives a tiny island off the grid and in the middle of the ocean, nearly on the other side of the world. I just sent you her GPS coordinates. If you need a ride, George still has his old dropship.¡± ¡°All right, thanks. I guess I¡¯ll talk to George next.¡± Peter said getting up. ¡°Say hi to him for me.¡± Alex said with a big grin and waiving daintily with his left hand. Heading towards the door, Peter replied without looking back: ¡°Will do. Take care!¡± He was already accessing his Netlink for the bus routes to the spaceport and saw that he had to do four transfers and estimated time from his location was nearly an hour! Peter checked the auto-cabs and time to the spaceport was approximately 14 minutes. He ordered one and as he left the bar, headed to the nearest underground road access point, just two doors down from where he was. As he exited the elevator, the auto-cab was already waiting for him and the door opened once Peter identified himself via his Netlink. Entering the auto-cab, Peter realized it was an older model. The vehicle¡¯s age and heavy use was visible from the polished finger grooves worn into all handles and the seat¡¯s obvious sagging. Peter chose one of the two forward facing seats, the one closest to the door. As he sat and buckled up, the auto-cab left and the HUD in the windshield displayed the route data as well as estimated time of arrival. Peter also received the receipt for the trip, only $17, showing his veteran¡¯s discount. Looking at the controls, Peter activated the surface mode, which remapped the windows to show the roads above street instead of the dark grey tunnel walls. For an older vehicle, the display was surprisingly good and other than not feeling the heat of sunlight on his skin, he could have sworn the auto-cab was driving slowly, on the surface roads instead of being in a slow underground gridlock. Now seated comfortably in the auto-cab, Peter called George to ask about his dropship. ¡°Royal Palm Grill, how may I help you? ¡­ Ah, Peter, what can I do you for?¡± answered George. ¡°Hi George, I was wondering if I could¡­ ¡° ¡°¡­ borrow my Arrow X2 right?¡± interrupted George. ¡°Alex must have contacted you.¡± ¡°You bet! I¡¯m assuming your pilot license is still valid?¡± Peter quickly checked with his Netlink, not having used his pilot¡¯s license in a few years, but it was still valid. ¡°Of course, it is!¡± Peter answered with barely half a second¡¯s pause. ¡°Hrmm¡­ just make sure you bring her back with a full tank of gas. I just sent you a virtual key¡±. Peter received a file on his Netlink. ¡°Yup, just got it. And thanks!¡± ¡°You break her, you buy her, buddy. Otherwise, have fun!¡± George said as he hung up. Looking out the windows in surface mode, Peter got a close look at the planet¡¯s only spaceport which also did dual duty as the capital¡¯s main airport. It had grown somewhat since his own arrival; he could see the new passenger wing and the new control tower. The old tower still looked in use and a quick Netlink search informed him that it was now only used for the atmospheric traffic control. Further in the distance, almost at the edge of the horizon on the ocean, Peter could see the gigantic structure being built as the tether and transit building for the space elevator. While still closed to public access, the massive bridge looked complete. Doing another quick lookup, Peter found that most of the structure was complete and that the first tether, which will bring up every other strand of the space elevator, should be launching within a few weeks. The elevator is scheduled to be operational this year just a week before Christmas and the official opening will feature Santa riding down the elevator. Peter asked his virtual assistant to buy him a ticket and remind him of it, so he could be there to see it. Being rusty with his orbital numbers, Peter searched for some numbers. The first station being mostly a tourist attraction will be orbiting at about 36,000km and at this distance will be at zero-g. The main orbital station and star port at about 51,000km would be near standard gravity and already be near escape velocity for easy arrivals and departures of larger ships. From what he read, the station would be in two parts, the main space port itself, the same station he had used himself when he arrived, which would be moved near the tether transit point. The anchor sitting still further at about 140,000km. That means that even going at a 1,000km/hour, the elevator would take 36 hours from the planet¡¯s surface to the first station and vice versa. Peter figured that Santa¡¯s ride would just be a short hop from surface to a few hundred kilometers high and back. Not sure why they wouldn¡¯t just use a single station or just reuse the existing space station, he found that there was a terrorist attack nearly 200 years ago on the Mars space elevator where the ground station was destroyed, which caused the anchor, transit station, zero-g station and tether to be shot into space. There were massive casualties and because the main station had been launched too, rescue efforts had to be coordinated from Earth. Since then, regulations require the two to be separate, which made a lot of sense. As the auto-cab approached his destination, the smaller airfield reserved for private atmospheric and hybrid aircraft, about 2 km further north from the main terminal, the surface mode disengaged and promptly pulled into the first available drop off spot. The auto-cab displayed the fare route and time taken at 13 minutes and 19 seconds from start to stop. It was 13:29 when Peter had arrived at his destination, but still being in the underground roadways, he couldn¡¯t see anything without the surface mode the auto-cab provided, so he headed for the elevator entrance to the building. Walking into the elevator, his Netlink received a request for an augmented reality overlay and access to the local assist-AI, he accepted both. The map appeared in his field of view and he quickly saw the layout of the building; he was in the underground access of the main lobby. He queried the assist-AI with Alex¡¯s Arrow X2 key and immediately received directions to the appropriate hangar. The assist-AI also asked if the craft should be prepped for flight, to which Peter acquiesced. As the elevator left the underground, Peter got his first glance at the private terminal. It was a large, glassed structure, reminiscent of a snail¡¯s shell. The main lobby and entrance being at the shell¡¯s opening. His overlay showed him a directory of all stores and services. Peter ignored the higher floors of the shell, housing restaurants and a hotel, he had no need of it. The outer structure looked to be separated into three different wings, each servicing the similar types of vehicles. The north wing was for atmospheric crafts requiring a runway, mostly being electric propeller planes and small hydrogen jets. The west wing, towards which Peter was walking, was for VTOL crafts, such has helicopters, hybrid planes and shuttles. The south wing was for orbital shuttles or larger crafts needing a longer or ramped runway. Surprised at not seeing any large hangars or many parked crafts, Peter queried the plan and found that all crafts were stored in a large, automated underground structure and were raised or lowered via four large elevators. Each elevator was next to a dedicated landing and launching platform. When Peter requested Alex¡¯s Arrow, he saw it on the virtual map being raised to platform three. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Peter watched as the platform¡¯s hatch opened, and the Arrow was raised. When the elevator was locked in position, the door leading out to the platform unlocked. Just over 25 meters in length, 7 meters at its tallest and 18 meters at its widest, the Arrow was angular with its two stubby wings each holding an overpowered and oversized rocket engine. The main body was basically an armored box with a cockpit, giving it the overall grace of a winged brick. But Peter knew from experience that the Arrow was fast and surprisingly agile. Not counting reentry speeds, its atmospheric cruising speed was almost Mach 2 and when free from atmospheric drag, it could reach over 30,000 km per hour, more than enough to enter most planetary orbit. In the hands of a skilled pilot like George, he had seen the Arrow dance between missile swarms without taking a hit. As he approached the Arrow, the first thing he noticed were that all the hardpoints had been removed and sealed with government approved plasteel caps. Next, he saw all the hull patches and replaced armor plates which were caused by battle damage. While the Arrow X2 was an old and obsolete bird, it was surprisingly well maintained. Finishing his visual inspection, Peter confirmed that all service hatches and ports were closed and locked. He sent the key he received from Alex and booted up the onboard computer and started a pressurization test before opening the rear boarding door. Once pressure inside reached four atmospheres, he let the computer do its diagnostics and read as each test passed. When the test completed, pressure returned to normal and the rear boarding door opened, tilting down into the ramp. Climbing inside, the interior smelled lightly of metal, oil and recycled air. Peter thought he detected a hint of gunpowder, but it could also be a ghost smell from memories of his previous experiences in the Arrow, either as copilot or passenger. There was enough room in the cargo box for one full sized APC and a further twelve passengers with all their gear. At the front of the Arrow, he could see the cockpit, just in front of the toilet on the left and the mini kitchen on the right. The cockpit¡¯s door being opened, he saw most of the controls for the pilot and copilot, as well as both swiveling seats, side by side, currently facing him. Not having his own space armor anymore, Peter donned one of the Arrow¡¯s one-size-fits-all pressure suit from one of the lockers by the entrance. Once he donned and powered the suit, it self-adjusted and connected to his Netlink. All the suits data and diagnostics now appearing on his visual overlay. It was a generic pressure suit with built-in rebreather, guaranteeing twenty-four hours of breathable air. Of course, Peter knew that should he end up in space, he¡¯d freeze or cook to death well before he ran out of air, but the suit was still better than nothing should the Arrow depressurize. Peter walked to the cockpit and sat in the pilot¡¯s seat. Running his preflight checkup took him a little longer than it used to, but it had been a few years since he was last in a real cockpit. Preflight checkup complete, Peter entered the GPS coordinates of his destination and a chain of equatorial small islands appeared on the screen. He ran the numbers, and he could fly the 12,000 km atmospherically in either supersonic about 7 hours, subsonic in over 14 hours or just over two hours if he went into a sub-orbital flight. Fuel cost for an atmospheric flight would be about 400 credits roundtrip for subsonic, 1,200 roundtrip for supersonic. A sub-orbital flight would roughly be about 2,700 credits one way, most of that running the afterburners to reach sub-orbital altitude. Faced with the prospect of sitting in the cockpit for 2, 7 or 14 hours, Peter chose the more expensive but much shorter flight. That done, he filed the flight plan and got an immediate departure window. Peter strapped in and took off vertically. Once he reached 200 meters of altitude, he turned the Arrow and started heading east. After he left the restricted airspace, he engaged the engines at maximum thrust and started the suborbital climb. Running light as she was, the Arrow X2 had over 2Gs of vertical acceleration and would reach its top speed in about 45 seconds and sub-orbital altitude under four minutes. Peter watched the gages as he climbed higher and higher into the atmosphere, only relaxing once he reached his cruising altitude at just above 110 kilometers and the engines shut off. He engaged the autopilot and after checking everything was ok, unstrapped. Still in the cockpit, Peter had quite a view of Occinus, at this altitude, he could see the curvature of the planet. Well above the clouds, he realized this was the first time he was in a low orbit since his retirement and that, until he had to land, he had nothing better to do than enjoy the ride. Now in freefall, Peter berated himself for not having peed before departure, he hated using zero-g toilets, but the high G he experienced during the climb asserted itself in an immediate need to relieve himself. While sitting on the zero-g toilet, a strange thought occurred to Peter. Well, many, but the one most prominent was to do with his immediate business and what happened when he flushed. Peter queried the Net via his Netlink and the Arrow¡¯s TacNet relayed via the old satellite GlobalNet, but at a much lower rate of speed than he had gotten used to in town. He pulled up the plans for the Arrow X2, long since declassified. Turns out the toilet is hooked up to the life support system, where water is recycled via vacuum evaporation and the rest is stored in a large vacuum bag that can store up to five hundred liters of human waste. That¡¯s half a ton of shit thought Peter. According to the manual, said bag was to be disposed of during regular intervals, or when it reached over fifty percent capacity. Curious, Peter pulled the maintenance logs and saw that the waste bag currently held 17.3 liters of vacuum dried human waste. His business done; Peter returned to the cockpit to enjoy the view afforded by the wide-angle armored canopy. Still standing, he watched the planet below him and the light cloud cover. At this altitude, the clouds reminded him of the maps used in weather forecast apps and weather reports. Looking towards the horizon, towards his destination, he couldn¡¯t see it yet, but he should in less than thirty-two minutes according to the navigation data. Watching the spaceport disappear behind the horizon, Peter realized he had a dilemma; land unannounced or call ahead. He had met Melinda when she joined his squad, as the medic and sniper. She was already a full conversion cyborg prior to her joining the marine. Full arms, legs and spine replaced, her skull and skeleton fully reinforced. Rumors then said she was a hardcore bitch who partied like there was no tomorrow, but she had problems with authority, which is probably why she ended up in his commando squad in the first place. When she joined, they got along well and started dating after a few missions. It was a rocky relationship which went downhill after she had her brain extracted and transferred into a full cyborg body. Peter still felt shitty about how they ended, but they should have stayed as friends and nothing more. Peter retired shortly after, travelled to a few planets and ended up here, on Occinus IV. Peter realized that he really should have called before heading out, but until this moment, her not helping him hadn¡¯t even entered his mind. Using his Netlink, he tried to do a virtual call, but outside of the city, all he had access to, was the global wireless network. While convenient and free, it had limited bandwidth. Making a voice call over his Netlink, he was surprised by an immediate answer ¡°Hey Peter, you jumped before you looked again!¡± answered Melinda. After a second¡¯s pause, he answered ¡°Err¡­ yeah. Hi Melinda, I guess you were expecting my call?¡± ¡°Of course, I stayed in touch with Alex, George and Daisuke. I almost reached out to you a few times, but ¡­ you know¡­¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m sorry too¡±. After a short pause, Melinda continued ¡°So, since I¡¯m unable to initiate a VR call due to limited bandwidth on your end, I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve already left with George¡¯s X2.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right¡± replied Peter. Melinda laughed and said ¡°I¡¯m just messing with you, I already knew you left, both Alex and George pinged me. Knowing you, you went sub-orbital. How much time left until you land?¡± The navigation data showed an estimated 62 minutes until having to land. Peter said: ¡°About an hour and I¡¯ll be landing¡±. ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon then!¡± and Melinda hung up. ¡°See you soon¡­¡± Peter said to the now closed connection. Lost in thought, he stared out the cockpit until the autopilot alerted him that it was now time to descend. Having left in the early afternoon, he was surprised it was nighttime, but then realized that he was now in a different time zone, 7 hours ahead, added to his 2 hours flight he¡¯d be landing around 23:00. Standard procedure calls for a hard deceleration to deorbit to his selected landing site. Then it¡¯s just gravity and atmospheric drag until the last few kilometers when the engines kick in again, after all, he wants to land, not crash. Although the X2 could take a full re-entry, his suborbital flight didn¡¯t have enough velocity to trigger a burn up. He had his destination, Melinda¡¯s archipelago, on radar and brought it up on visuals. He saw seven tropical islands arranged roughly into a curved line, the smallest at the extremities and the largest one in the middle. It was on the largest one that he saw Melinda¡¯s compound, but Peter was surprised at its size. He had expected two or three landing pads and one or two small buildings. What greeted Peter looked more like a small resort. In the middle of a perfectly landscaped bay, surrounding a very large pool were three large buildings. The tallest reminded him of a modern hospital, complete with rooftop emergency landing pad and communication tower. It was a hexagonal structure, gleaming from the privacy floor to ceiling windows in all the rooms, Peter counted 8 floors including the lobby. On either side were shorter, plateaued buildings with multiple roof terraces and large balconies. These were likely guest and staff lodging or a hotel. The large pool had the mandatory swim up bar with a shaded area. Three other smaller buildings were across the pool, opposite the larger ones, likely restaurants and shops. Scattered along the beach on both sides of the complex, Peter counted fourteen secluded bungalows linked by meandering paths. On the beach itself, he saw multiple umbrellas and small sun shelters. There was also a small marina with a pier and enough room to berth up to twenty yachts, five of which were in use. On the other side of the island, he saw a small airport with a landing strip, two large hangars, a small control tower and twenty-one landing pads for VTOL crafts, three being in use. ¡°This is Asclepius Resort con tower to approaching VTOL craft, please respond¡± Quickly checking the Arrow¡¯s call sign, Peter responded: ¡°Alpha X-Ray Two Niner Charley responding¡±. ¡°We have you on standard suborbital approach, confirm VTOL or strip landing, over.¡± ¡°Copy VTOL landing, over¡± The control tower sent its response ¡°Clear skies to landing pad Beta Fiver¡±. ¡°Confirmed landing pad Beta Fiver.¡± Peter received data for his assigned landing strip and corrected his flight path and descent. After a smooth touch down on pad B5, Peter went through the post-flight checklist and powered down the Arrow X2. As he left the cockpit, he noticed a small golf cart rapidly approaching. Shrugging his shoulders, he exited the craft and waited for the cart after he confirmed the hatch was sealed. Peter realized he completely forgot to check the current weather and forecast before leaving. His Netlink queried the local Net and his app received the weather update, it was currently thirty-one Celsius with a humidex of sixty one percent. Wind speed was estimated at sixteen kilometers per hour from the west. Forecast showed similar weather for the next six days. While looking up the weather, he also inspected the approaching cart and saw that it was driven by an athletic clone wearing a traditional butler¡¯s uniform, complete with white gloves. The cart stopped near Peter and the driver exited, he bowed from the waist. Something about the graceful way the clone moved sent a few red flags to Peter. The clone had green eyes indicating military purposes; engaging his tactical scanner, he found out why immediately, he was standing in front of a ten-year military clone with physical prowess well above human norm. Still bowing, the clone said ¡°Greetings Mr. Gordon, my name is Alberto, and I will be your butler for your stay here at Asclepius Resort. Do you have any luggage?¡± Taken aback, Peter hesitated, realizing he left without even going back to his place. ¡°I don¡¯t have any luggage, but call me Peter, Alberto.¡± ¡°Of course, Peter.¡± Alberto replied as he stood up from his bow and returned behind the wheel of the golf cart, motioning for Peter to join him in the passenger seats behind him. Entering the golf cart, Peter found it immediately cooler, the cart had a small climatized field. Once he was comfortably seated, the cart started to move away from the airfield, towards a small, paved road, heading towards the hospital resort on the other side of the island, separated by a small mountain. ¡°We will be arriving at the resort within a few minutes.¡± Alberto informed him, ¡°Melinda asked that I take you to the main restaurant, so she can talk with you. Would that be okay?¡± ¡°Sure, you¡¯re the boss.¡± Peter enjoyed the island¡¯s night vista as they crossed the island from the airport side to the resort side. Once they crested a low portion of the mountain separating the two, he had a stunning view of the entire island. Even in the middle of the night, the discreet ambient lights were breath taking. He noticed that Alberto slowed the cart a little to let him take in the view for longer. As the cart started to descend into the jungle again, it sped up back to its previous speed. Shortly after, they arrived at an intersection, to the left, the tree larger buildings, in front of them a plaza, then the pool. The cart turned right, towards the three smaller buildings, which were indeed two small shopping centers on either side of the restaurant complex. The cart turned into a small loading zone and stopped. ¡°Here we are Peter; Melinda is waiting for you in the Itsy Bitty Tiki. Just go up one floor and it will be to the right of the escalator.¡± ¡°Thanks Alberto.¡± As Peter left the cart and stretched, he watched as Alberto drove off, back towards the airport road. He lost sight of him when he entered the restaurant complex. On the ground floor was a food court with seven different choices. In the center was the main escalator and elevator. On the next floor were three restaurants, including the Itsy Bitty Tiki, a Chinese buffet restaurant with a sign in Mandarin only, which his implants translated to Golden Meal Ticket and a place called Alphonse¡¯s. A quick Netlink query informed him that Alphonse¡¯s was a French bakery and crepes caf¨¦. The top floor of the complex was occupied by the resort¡¯s main dinner restaurant Allegory which was opened from 17:00 to 02:00 and was a themed restaurant with menus based on the theme of the day. Exiting the escalator, Peter turned right and entered the Itsy Bitty Tiki and scanned the three occupied tables but didn¡¯t see Melinda, as a full conversion combat cyborg, she¡¯d stand out. He saw a man in his forties wearing a Hawaiian shirt who was squinting and moving his hands in front of his face as if swiping something. A booth by the window had a beautiful man in his twenties who kept jumping every time he saw his reflection. A woman in her thirties was seated near the entrance, but she didn¡¯t have any visible cybernetics. As Peter was about to waive to one of the staff to be seated, the woman stood up and called ¡°Peter! I¡¯m over here.¡±, in Melinda¡¯s voice. Doing a double-take, Peter looked at the woman again and realized that the woman did resemble the pre-conversion pictures of Melinda he had seen. Approaching the table, he said ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize you. You look different then when I last saw you.¡± As he approached, Peter saw that while she looked human, up close, she looked like a synthetic version of her original self he had seen from pictures, but never in real life. For all the advances of cybernetics, artificial skin still looked fake, up close. Melinda stood and opened her arms as if for a hug. As he hugged her, Peter realized that for the first time, he was taller than her. He also noticed that while her skin looked fake, it felt warm, soft and natural. Letting go, they both sat down, looking at each other. Melinda started ¡°It¡¯s...¡± as the same time as Peter said ¡°I ¡­¡±. They both stopped and laughed a little. Peter bowed his head and used both hands to show she should go first. After a quick laughter, she started again ¡°Still the gentleman, I see. It¡¯s good to see you again Peter.¡± She held up a finger to stop Peter from responding yet. ¡°I also want to say that I am sorry about how we parted. Not that it¡¯s any excuse, but I was a very strange head space, then. So¡­ I¡¯m sorry and I¡¯m glad I got to say it.¡± Peter stared into space for a moment, while playing with or scratching at his beard, pensive for a moment before answering ¡°We both were. In a strange head space, I mean.¡± Looking directly into Melinda¡¯s now natural looking eyes, he continued ¡°Even before we broke up, there was only one more mission on my military contract and I¡¯d already decided I wasn¡¯t going to renew. Thankfully, our last mission, while awkward, went well and had with no casualties.¡± Looking down at the table, he continued ¡°¡­ but I should have said something instead of just leaving without saying anything to you, not cool on my part.¡± Melinda shrugged ¡°It¡¯s all right, now. You had your goodbye party with the guys, but while you didn¡¯t invite me, I knew about it and could have gone, in fact both George and Alex said I¡¯d regret it if I didn¡¯t go.¡± Taking a deep breath, she continued ¡°I was very angry back then, at you, me, everyone, everything. George and Alex both had one more mission afterwards and neither of them renewed. Neither did I, obviously, but unlike them, I wasn¡¯t asked.¡± They continued to talk, until the restaurant closed at 02:00. Melinda escorted Peter to one of the guest rooms but did not enter after him. Peter woke up in a strange bed and for a second, had to think where he was. ¡°Lights, low¡± said Peter at the room and the lights turned on gradually to the low setting. Looking around the room, he saw the night stands on either side of the king size bed, the patio door and balcony through the privacy curtains, the love seat against the wall, a desk and chair besides a counter that probably hid the mini bar. Through the hallway, he presumed that was where the closet and bathroom was, and so, headed there to pee standing up. It really is the little things in life¡­ he thought to himself, enjoying the moment, free of fear that his hands would accidentally crush his junk. After an involuntary shudder, Peter put his clothes in the auto-wash and had a shower. He considered shaving, but he hadn¡¯t brought anything with him and saw no razors in the shower or on the bathroom counter. While drying himself, the room pinged his Netlink, he had an appointment reminder. Finishing to dry himself, Peter read it and he had an appointment with Melinda, in Operating room six in less than two hours, at 0800. He grabbed his now clean and pressed clothes and got dressed. After leaving the room, Peter went in search of a breakfast restaurant. He walked purposefully while his Netlink gave him a map and direction to the breakfast restaurant of his choice, Alphonse¡¯s, the creperie he saw the day before. There, he enjoyed a good breakfast and some of the best coffee he had in a long time. Checking with his Netlink, he found that the secret to the flavor is from being cold brewed for twenty-four hours. With still almost an hour to spare, Peter made sure his tab was paid and went for a short stroll on the walkways crisscrossing the resort. He arrived at the operating room fifteen minutes in advance. The door was already opened, so he went in, half expecting to see surgery tools all over and a strap-in chair from most cyberpunk movies. The room was nearly identical to the Genutech facility he visited back in town, the only exception being a sturdy, but comfortable looking chair meant to sit forward, like a massage chair, complete with face cradle. Light came from the ceiling but did not have a visible source, so he figured they had a holographic system in the room. At exactly 0800, Melinda entered the room. ¡°Good morning Peter! As early as ever?¡± She looked well rested, but then again, her face being a cybernetic copy, wouldn¡¯t likely show lack of sleep. She had different, but similar clothes to what she was wearing yesterday, with the addition of a doctor¡¯s robe. ¡°Good morning Melinda! I know we talked yesterday about what you¡¯ll be doing, but remind me again? Something about a bypass buffer?¡± Shaking her head, Melinda answered ¡°I¡¯m going to install a bypass module between your limiter and your arm implants. That way you can use them at full power when you want, and the limiter won¡¯t log a violation. For your head, that¡¯s more complicated. Your encephalon is currently running in permanent standby mode. So, I¡¯ll need to make some modifications so that it will be turned on, but still report to diagnostic equipment that isn¡¯t. I won¡¯t have to open your skull either, I¡¯ll put you under, then, I¡¯ll be injecting nano-surgeons in your neck and I¡¯ll guide them to build the parts in your encephalon. When done, I¡¯ll extract them, and you¡¯ll be good as new.¡± ¡°Right¡­ How long will it take and how long before the encephalon is usable?¡± Melinda answered ¡°For your arms, less than 10 minutes per arm. For what you call your head, it¡¯ll take me about three hours. When you wake up, your encephalon will be online, but you may need a few hours or days to get used to it again.¡± Peter smiled ¡°Thanks, I really appreciate you helping me with this!¡± Smiling back, Melinda continued ¡°Of course! I still think the military has no right shutting down your brain like that. I can understand the limiter on physical implants, but playing with your mind, that¡¯s not good. I¡¯ve seen too many psychological issues following a shutdown like yours. In fact, if I hadn¡¯t gotten an injunction, my own would have been put in standby when I left the military.¡± Shaking her head and frowning slightly, she continued ¡°Anyways, that¡¯s not here and now. Please sit in the chair, face down in the cradle and arms on the armrests, just like that.¡± She waited for Peter to get comfortable and continued ¡°You ready?¡± ¡°Yes, see you on the other side¡± Peter answered as he felt a light touch on his neck. He closed his eyes for a second or two and when he opened them again, his encephalon was online! ¡°Easy Peter, it¡¯ll take you a moment to get used to your full HUD. Can you move your toes?¡± Looking at the holographic display above Peter, Melinda continued ¡°Ok, now your fingers. Ok, everything checks out. I recommend getting used to your head again before trying your hands at full power. I also suggest spending another day here, just in case something happens. You can stay in the same room.¡± ¡°Thanks Melinda! How much do I owe you for this?¡± ¡°Owe? You came over for a friendly visit, you aren¡¯t a client, and you weren¡¯t in the clinic. I had an appointment at 08:00 this morning, but the client never showed up, if you get my drift.¡± ¡°Right, makes sense. Should I have brought a visiting or housewarming gift then?¡± ¡°Yes, that certainly would be nice, I¡¯m thinking around $50,000 would just about cover it.¡± Peter was about to initiate the transfer via his Netlink, out of habit, but realized his encephalon could not only do the transaction, but scramble and split the transfer from his accounts. Since the federation uses crypto currency, it is already very hard to trace transactions, but if done by a pro, or a good software, it becomes nearly impossible. ¡°Ok, I¡¯ve just initiated discreet transfers over the next four hours for $50,000. Do you have a gym or dojo? I¡¯d like to spar to get used to the encephalon again.¡± ¡°Absolutely, there¡¯s a gym in both hotel buildings. If you want a sparring partner, staff on hand will be able to assist, they¡¯re all ex-military. I have to grab a quick lunch and I have another appointment this afternoon, but I¡¯m free for dinner and the evening if you want to hang.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that Melinda. See you for dinner. Ping me with a time and place.¡±
Tropical island & cybernetics Two hours later, Peter was drenched in sweat, covered in bruises and sore all over. His left eye was partially shut by swelling, he had a few cuts on his face and a solid hit had split his lip badly. Through his sweat drenched beard, he had a grin that dripped blood and he was happy. Looking at his sparring partner, Alberto, he saw just as much damage and an equally sweaty and bloody grin, minus the beard. Considering they both wore protective gear, the amount of damage they both inflicted and received was unusual, but from Peter¡¯s point of view, he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he was able to go all out. All the dormant implants in his head were active and already reintegrated, which was the point of this match. Still panting, Peter was looking over at his former opponent and saw that some of his lesser scrapes and bruises had already healed. ¡°Must be nice being a clone! Great fight, thanks, I needed that.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome, there are certainly perks. But it isn¡¯t all fun and games, there¡¯s prejudice, like Humanity First. Being property for most of my life, and being a Ten-year clone, my lifespan felt very short, once I was freed.¡± Shaking his head a few times, he continued ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong though, I wouldn¡¯t trade my life or my lifespan if it meant being less than I am. I¡¯m just grateful that I had the opportunity to purchase a re-sequencing and get another ten years added to my life. At least clones can do that four or five times, unlike natural humans who can maybe do it once, twice if they¡¯re lucky.¡± Peter scratched his beard, ¡°True, and you clones don¡¯t age as us naturals do, you stay pretty much the same until your body shuts down, you won¡¯t really get old and decrepit like I will. Myself, I was already resequenced early in my service, not to make myself younger, it just slowed down my aging process in half. Everyone on my team was.¡± Rubbing his shoulders and stretching his back, Peter continued ¡°Anyways, thanks for the fight, I¡¯m going to hit the shower.¡± He started walking towards the gym¡¯s public changing rooms, where the showers were located. Alberto answered ¡°Anytime Peter.¡± And headed to the staff¡¯s room, likely to have a shower himself. While showering, Peter contemplated his fully activated HUD and ran a diagnostic on all his reactivated implants. All of them confirmed full integration. The first time he had them installed, it took him months to get them fully integrated. It also took him even longer to get used to living without them, but it only took a few hours to get used to them again. I guess it really is like riding a bicycle¡­ Still in the shower, he used one of his implants to do a scene recreation of his fight and observed it from afar. He was able to see it as if a spectator and even from the point of view of the clone. After watching it a few times, he caught a few errors on his part and his implants made suggestions on how to correct. Once he dried and dressed himself, he went to the first aid station and paid for a single use can of Bruise-B-Gone nanite spray. He closed his eyes and sprayed his face, focusing mostly on his black eye and split lip. Once done, he went to a mirror and watched his face heal rapidly. After a few minutes, his face looked like it had about a week¡¯s worth of healing, his black eye was completely gone and thanks to his beard, what remained of his split lip was invisible. He looked at the time, it was 15:09 and tried to reach Melinda, but got her answering system, it said she was with a patient and to leave a message. He left a message and headed back to his room to relax until she called him back. Peter woke up, he felt sore all over and he vaguely recalled strange dreams, something about a bus boat taking him to a submerged tropical resort, with waterslides everywhere and buffet restaurants. His HUD indicated that it was now 18:31 He had multiple messages, one from Melinda, one from detective Creed, two from his apartment¡¯s AA and one from the police station. First, he checked Melinda¡¯s message from 1607: ¡°Hi Peter, got your ping, but you¡¯re probably napping by now. I forgot to mention but reactivating your encephalon will take a lot out of you and you will need to sleep more for the next few days. Call me when you wake up.¡± Ah¡­ that explains the nap. Second, he listened to detective Creed¡¯s message from 1700: ¡°Hi Mr. Gordon, this is detective Creed and I have some follow up questions and need you to come in person at the station. I just queried your location, and you are not within city limits¡­ This looks very suspicious. Contact me when you are back.¡± Suspicious? I¡¯m one of the fucking victims¡­ Next he listened to his apartment¡¯s AA from 1734: ¡°Silent alarm has been triggered and two individuals have entered the premises. Police has been notified and footage is being streamed to your net storage.¡± The next message was also from the apartment¡¯s AA from 1743: ¡°Unknown intruders have left premises. Some physical damage detected. No further activity detected, ending stream.¡± Last, he listened to the police¡¯s message from 1808: ¡°Mr. Gordon, this is officer Keiran, badge number 2568131, responding to a silent alarm. It appears your apartment was broken into and vandalized. There may have been some theft as well. I¡¯ve attached our bodycam footage and my contact card. Please return call as soon as possible.¡± Peter sat still for a few moments, then decided to view the footage from his apartment. The security footage also included two separate streams, the entry and progress from the perpetrators and the departure from his apartment, both provided by the building¡¯s security system. The footage showed two people approaching the main entrance, but their faces were blurred and pixelated; they were wearing anonymizer, illegal jammers meant to thwart facial recognition. However, they were perfect matches in height, weight and proportions to the two people he confronted in defense of the clone a little while back. He also noticed the missing right index finger on one of them, confirming his suspicions. Normally, the building¡¯s AA recognizes residents and opens the door for them, visitors having to either be buzzed in or use a security code via Netlink or fob. When they approached the door, a valid visitor code was provided via Netlink, but Peter didn¡¯t have access to the database to get details on the code itself and who generated it, but he made a note to follow up later. They entered the elevator and punched in his floor and turned towards his apartment. Arriving at his door, the person with the missing finger took out a small object which he laid on top of the lock and the door opened after 47 seconds. After which, the small object was retrieved and put away and they walked in. The first stream ended. Interesting, they don¡¯t appear to have queried the system about me or my apartment and they didn¡¯t hesitate when leaving the elevator, they had instructions to get to my place and clearly expected that I would not be home. Peter decided to watch the streams chronologically, so he queued his own apartment¡¯s stream. WARNING: Primary door lock reporting foreign object detected. WARNING: Primary door lock reporting physical failure due to extreme force. WARNING: Unauthorized primary door operation. Intrusion protocol initiating¡­ Silent alarm triggered¡­ Initiating full suite holographic recording¡­ Primary owner notified, stream follows. Stream has two files, standard video footage following the intruders and the full holographic footage requiring VR viewing or a holographic display. Peter chose to view the video footage. The front door opened, and the two perpetrators entered, quickly closing the door behind them. They separated and started to kick, throw and break his furniture and appliances. The nine-fingered perpetrator went to the kitchen where he blocked the sink and tried to flood it, but the auto-sensor kept shutting off the water. He ended up grabbing a frying pan and hitting the faucet four times, at which point it broke, but no water came out. He opened the fridge and tipped it, spilling its content on the floor. He also promptly broke the stove door. While he was doing this, the other intruder went into the bathroom and likewise tried to cause a flood but was prevented by the auto-sensors as well. He ended up breaking the shower glass wall, mirror and toilet using a small crowbar he pulled out from his jacket. Both entered his dojo/gym room and broke what was breakable. Next, they went into the bedroom and broke everything. Nine fingers also peed on his bed, while the other emptied his clothes in a pile and peed on them. At that point, they both took smart tag-cans and sprayed preset logos all over his walls. Ten fingers grabbed his laptop, and Nine fingers emptied his booze cabinet in a garbage bag which he took with him. After this, they headed for the door and left. I¡¯ll have to check the holographic footage for the bathroom and the dojo, if their anonymizers are cheap, the mirrors will show their faces. Peter watched the building¡¯s footage of them leaving but found nothing new or revealing. Next, he watched the footage sent over from officer Keiran, which turned out to have two streams, one from each responding officer. Both footages started at the same time, when they exited their vehicle. The main footage, from Officer Keiran showed him approaching the main entrance and sending his badge info and corresponding case number, after which he queried the floor plan and requested entry, which the building granted. They took the elevator and approached his door. Footage focused on the door and a quick analysis determined a 96% probability that a credit card sized doorjack was used to force the lock and gain entry by pushing against the door frame. Once inside, they quickly surveyed the apartment and confirmed damage and possible theft. Footage recorded the call made to his own voicemail and the footage ended immediately after. The second footage attached, from officer Davis, was nearly identical and included his badge information but ended just before the call to his voicemail was initiated. Peter decided to download a VR viewer app to encephalon and quickly reviewed the footage from his apartment and confirmed that indeed, the intruders had cheap anonymizers and clearly saw their faces in all the reflective surfaces and mirrors. It confirmed that his suspicions were correct, the intruders were the two he confronted in the back street. Still unsure what his next step was, Peter returned Melinda¡¯s call, which she answered ¡°Hey napster! feeling better?¡± ¡°Yeah, I needed the nap, but woke up with unexpected news, my place was thrashed.¡± Peter filled her in and forwarded a copy of the footage. After Melinda had reviewed the footage, she resumed the call ¡°Wow, that¡¯s not something you see every day¡­ Those guys are idiots! Even if they have a great lawyer that could throw out the video footage as being altered, they left their DNA at the crime scene.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ that wasn¡¯t my first thought, but true, they did do that.¡± ¡°You have a lawyer Peter?¡± ¡°Not really, I used a real estate lawyer when I bought my condo, but I don¡¯t think he¡¯d be really helpful here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll put you in touch with the firm I use to handle that kind of stuff. They aren¡¯t on planet, so you¡¯ll have QEL costs when you stream to them, but they are worth it. I just sent you their info.¡± Peter received a contact card for The Bold, The Bad and The Law, and their address on Calisto III. He did a quick lookup, Calisto III is over 2,700 light years from Occinus, but like Occinus, there is a Gate just outside their solar system. So, travel between the two planets would take about three and a half year, nearly all of it accelerating and decelerating, with just four days in hyperspace. ¡°Got it, thanks Melinda!¡± ¡°You are still hungry?¡± ¡°Very.¡± ¡°Meet you at Allegory in 30, ask for my table. Dress code is shirt and tie or evening dress.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t really bring anything with me¡­¡± ¡°Right, I forgot. Go to the gift shop, there¡¯s a nano factory. You can print what you need.¡± Melinda ended the call. Peter was going up the escalator, enjoying the fit and feel of his new clothes. He tried to remember the last time he was dressed like this and realized it was his first time dressing formally since his college graduation, back on Earth, before he joined the military. During his years of service, he¡¯s had plenty of occasions where formal attire was required, but for him, that meant dress uniform and medals. As he neared the top of the escalator, classical music could be heard, he thought to himself, string quartet if I¡¯m not mistaken. As it came into view, he saw Allegory, was nearly full. His implant counted 60 tables for couples and 22 for groups of four. It also counted 183 guests, seated in 54 of the couples table and 16 of the group tables. He also saw 23 staff, including the host and two bartenders, the rest appeared to be waiting on the tables. The restaurant was arranged in a manner that reminded him of a theatre with small levels in an arc, around a central stage, where a string quartet was playing. As he neared the entrance, Peter was greeting by the host ¡°Good evening, sir. I take it you are the gentleman meeting Doctor Melinda?¡± He wore a traditional tuxedo, down to the white gloves and shiny shoes. Although phrased as a question, the host didn¡¯t wait for an answer. He turned and entered the restaurant, walking purposefully towards a table. Expecting to be followed, he went to a table located front and center, where Melinda was seated. Peter wouldn¡¯t have noticed without the reactivation of his Encephalon but, the host appeared to be a full conversion cyborg. Hints revealed, as he walked, as slight oddities of form and movements of the host¡¯s knees and elbows were seen through his clothes. As the host stopped, he approached Melinda and bent forward, appearing to whisper something to her. He straightened, turned towards Peter and bent forward again. Ah, he was bowing. Bow complete, he straightened again and left, heading back towards his station. Peter watched him again and noticed again the tell-tale movements and shapes that were not fully human. Peter felt a tug on his jacket and turned back to see Melinda release its tail. She smiled at him and said: ¡°Yes, he¡¯s a full conversion. Most don¡¯t notice because I was very careful with his face, but there are still some signs.¡± ¡°He moves very well; I almost didn¡¯t spot anything. He must have been converted a while back.¡± ¡°It was less than three months ago, he was an acrobatic performer and during a live practice, he fell about 30 meters. He shattered most of his body and the troupe¡¯s insurance wouldn¡¯t pay due to the safety not being installed. It was all over the news when it happened. He had a lot of followers and they crowdfunded to help him. It wasn¡¯t enough to reclone his body and nearly enough for a cybernetic conversion. I did the surgery pro-bono, but now he can¡¯t perform anymore, he¡¯s too heavy.¡± Peter absorbed this and quickly searched the net, he found multiple articles. ¡°Yeah, I sort of remember something about it now, but it¡¯s a bit fuzzy. I had some medical complications¡­¡± ¡°You should have known better. Knowing you, not only did you not see a doctor right away, but you also probably tried to hack your implants.¡± Fidgeting in his chair and looking at the candle on their table, Peter didn¡¯t answer. Changing the subject, he asked ¡°All of the guests in the restaurant can¡¯t all be cyborgs or clients here¡­ and I doubt they¡¯d fly halfway around the world for this restaurant. So, what¡¯s going on?¡± Melinda smirked a little and answered ¡°Simple enough, they are regular guests at this resort. The hospital here is top of the line for cybernetics, wetware, brainware, splicing and DNA sequencing for expecting parents. Being top of the line, we charge a lot, but it also costs a lot. The resort keeps us in the black between clients.¡± ¡°Wetware and brainware?¡± Laughing, Melinda explained further ¡°Wetware are basically organs like your heart, lungs, eyes, and other non-structural or skeletal cybernetics. Brainware is easier to say then Encephalon and related hardware or software.¡± The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted. ¡°The show¡¯s about to begin.¡± Looking at the table, Peter saw no food, no menu, not even bread. ¡°We didn¡¯t order anything yet¡­¡± ¡°You won¡¯t, trays will be coming. Pick what you want, now hush.¡± The meal and show completed, the lights brightened, and everyone started leaving. Peter looked at Melinda and as she stayed seated, took his cue from her. Melinda waited a few more minutes, until most patrons had left. ¡°All right let¡¯s get back to your housing and legal problems. First, I can offer you one of the six suites I purchased at the Twin Pearl Hotel, it¡¯s right near the spaceport. I usually put-up VIP clients there, and four of the six suites are unoccupied so you can have one. As for the lawyers, I gave you their info.¡± Peter closed his mouth ¡°hm, I didn¡¯t expect this! I don¡¯t know what to say¡­¡± ¡°Just say thank you dumbass¡± Melinda answer with a smile as she got up. ¡°I¡¯d love to go walking and chatting, we have much to catch up on, but you¡¯ll need to sleep pretty much any minute now and as your doctor, I must insist you do.¡± Peter got up as well, ¡°What are you talking about I¡¯m ¡­ ¡°Yawn ¡°¡­ ah... right, sleep. Gotcha. Ok, but now that I know things are ok between us, I¡¯ll want to catch up. I¡¯ll give you a call when I¡¯m checked in at the Twin Pearl.¡± Together they left Allegory in silence and walked back towards Peter¡¯s hotel. As they approached the entrance, they slowed, and Melinda gently put her hand on Peter¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m glad you reached out when you needed help. Now go sleep dummy¡±. Peter smiled and watched her for a few seconds before entering the hotel. Peter woke up in a strange bed, in a room he didn¡¯t recall. Fuzzily, he called up his HUD and when it came to life, he remembered. Right, my encephalon¡¯s active now¡­ There was much more information displayed than he was now used to. But it was also familiar and welcome. It was reassuring. He was whole again; he hadn¡¯t felt like this since the end of his military contract when they forcefully shutdown his encephalon and installed limiters in his implants. Part of him understood why they were shut down; they were extremely expensive, and he certainly couldn¡¯t afford them. But at the same time a lot of commandos were implanted because they volunteered, often not even being injured. Simply for tactical or strategic advantages. Not like his hands which were blown off, but to improve his strategic capacity in the field. He never regretted having them put in, he was quick to adapt to them. But when they were shut down, it was hard. One of the hardest things he had faced. Worse than waking up dazed, confused and seeing his hands were gone. Being shutdown was like having been shown a world of color and suddenly, it was taken away forever. Not as forever as it was made out to be it turns out. Still, having all of this turned back on felt good. Better than he expected. Sure, it was a bit overwhelming for now, but it was coming back quickly. Just like skydiving or riding a motorcycle. Peter sat up and looked around the room. As he watched the tactical analyzer catalogued everything in sight while his hacknet identified every LocalNet active devices and flagged them by security rating and potential usefulness. After a few moments basking in the sea of information, he turned most of the features off again. It was 06:19. Rubbing his temples, he got up and took care of the morning¡¯s business. He ordered room service via his Netlink and took a quick shower. While enjoying the hot water, he initiated a search for the law firm, there was nothing on the LocalNet, so his search automatically expanded to the GlobalNet. There he found more information on the planet Calisto III. The day cycle there is 26.4 standard earth hours, and the year is 277 earth standard days but only 252 local days. Looks like they use localized metric time with ten hours per day with one hundred minutes per hour and one hundred seconds per minute. The planet uses 20 times zones, each half an hour apart. The time at the law firm is currently: 03:74 which his implant converted to 08:58 in the morning. Looks like most businesses open at 04:00 and close at 07:00. Roughly the equivalent to 09:00 to 17:00. Quite confusing for Peter, but probably as natural to them as his own 24-hour clock to him. His quick search basically told him that they would be open in a few minutes but weren¡¯t yet. So that means he should take care of the Twin Pearl check-in first. Search and shower done, he dried himself and was decided whether to put back his dirty clothes, put them in the auto-wash or order new ones. Knock knock A polite knock at the door interrupted Peter¡¯s thoughts. The doorcam showed his breakfast had arrived already at 06:41. As he walked towards the door, his encephalon alerted him that he was naked. Detouring by the main closet, he grabbed and donned one of the room¡¯s bathrobe and answered the door. The waiter was a clone with yellow eyes. He was impeccably dressed in the hotel¡¯s livery. As the door opened, he bowed politely and said ¡°Your breakfast sir. On the house. Did you want me to set it for you?¡± ¡°No, I got it, thanks.¡± Peter quickly looked up the price of the breakfast again and even if it was on the house, he gave a 20% tip. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± The waiter was obviously notified of his tip. He bowed again and promptly left, leaving the breakfast cart, which Peter brought in. The door closed itself behind him. As he unpacked breakfast, he reached out to the Twin Pearl via his Netlink and the GlobalNet. He was offered three contact choices: voice, vid or VR. Peter chose VR and as he connected, his encephalon allowed him a full dive experience. He was standing in what he assumed was the hotel¡¯s expansive lobby, he saw other guests as well as hotel staff. Looking around and experiencing his surrounding, he could feel the breeze from the open entrance passing through the lobby to the terrace and pool deck on the other side. There was no smell of salt or the ocean, but in addition to the hotel¡¯s own smell of carpet shampoo and pleasant signature aromatherapy, he could detect a faint odor of burnt sugar, rocket fuel and unidentifiable smells he always associated with a spaceport. Melinda did say they were close to the spaceport. Sensory experience aside, he realized there was a smiling hotel clerk at the counter, apparently waiting for him, but not making a show of it. As Peter approached the counter, the host did a polite quarter bow and greeted ¡°Welcome to the Twin Pearl Hotel Mr Gordon. I see we have a private suite reserved indefinitely for you. Did you want to schedule a check in?¡± ¡°Yes please. I should arrive early afternoon.¡± ¡°We will have your suite ready Mr. Gordon. Will you need a pickup from the airport?¡± He must have checked my connection IP info, thought Peter. ¡°Yes, but don¡¯t have someone wait for me, I¡¯ll call when I¡¯ve landed.¡± ¡°Very good sir. May I help with anything else?¡± ¡°No thank you.¡± And as Peter turned and left, the host said one last thing. ¡°Thank you for choosing the Twin Pearl Hotel, may you enjoy your stay.¡± As Peter walked around the lobby, he saw himself in one of the mirrored walls near the elevators and was surprised. He was clean shaved, in off duty fatigues but most striking of all, his hands, they weren¡¯t cybernetic! Intrigued, Peter queried his Encephalon and when he connected, the hotel had simply requested and recreated his default VR avatar. It was the one generated early in his service, before his accident. Peter rarely used VR and hadn¡¯t bothered to update it. He set a reminder for himself to do so when he had the chance. Using the opportunity, he checked the feel of his hands and skin. This VR was very good for the external senses; but left much to be desired for touch. His cybernetic hands, with their upgraded tactile feedback skin had much better perception than this VR representation. Disappointed, Peter disconnected. Back in reality, Peter looked at the time it was now 07:19. He finished his now cold breakfast and reached out again with his Netlink. This time, he reached out for the GalacticNet since he knew he¡¯d have to do so to reach another planet. He received a warning about private QEL data usage at $100 per GqB. The warning included additional information: 1 hour of full surround voice streaming would cost roughly $0.015; 1 hour of full 4K surround vid streaming would cost $25; 1 hour of low-definition VR is estimated at $150 and 1 hour of high-definition VR at $1,200. Peter thought back to his Twin Pearl VR experience and while they had poor tactile feedback, it was still a high-definition VR. Being free on the GlobalNet, if he had made that VR session to another planet it would have cost him nearly $300. Peter connected to the law firm¡¯s main office and was immediately prompted for Voice, Vid or VR. Peter selected Vid but realized he¡¯d have to go stand in front of a mirror or use a vid phone. Vid did offer simulated VR which his Encephalon could easily run, so he selected this. He would be in his own VR and have a flat video link with the other party. He would have to use his outdated VR avatar again. Peter increased the priority of his VR avatar reminder to trigger the next time he was near a holographic system, like in his apartment. Vid method selected; Peter connected. His Vid was answered on the second ring by a handsome clone with yellow eyes and what looked like a very high-end business suite: ¡°The Bold, The Bad and The Law how may we help?¡± While he answered, Peter also sent his contact card ¡°I have need of some legal help and representation for a criminal case I am involved in.¡± ¡°We can definitely help you Mr. Gordon, can you give me more details? Then I¡¯ll pass along the information to the paralegals and a lawyer will contact you within 3 business days.¡± Peter compressed the video feed of the combat scene in the alley and sent it. He also sent his apartment break-in video and all the police¡¯s voicemail. ¡°I was a third party to a violent assault in progress. As a good Samaritan, I intervened to help the victim and perform a civilian arrest until police arrived. I¡¯ve just sent a video from my own point of view. I¡¯ve also attached security footage from a break in at my place as well as all police voicemails left to me.¡± ¡°Thank you, Mr. Gordon, I just received the files. I believe we have all the information necessary currently. Do you have any questions?¡± ¡°Maybe¡­ but I¡¯ll ask the lawyer when he calls, nothing urgent. Thank you and have a good day.¡± ¡°Thank you for choosing The Bold, the Bad and the Law, have a good day as well¡±, the clone closed the connection. Time to get ready to go back home¡­ Peter got up and started picking up his things. It was very quick as he had brought nothing over. He dressed in yesterday¡¯s clothes and packed the clothes he had bought the day before for the show in a reusable laundry bag provided by the hotel. He reached out to the hotel¡¯s LocalNet and initiated the checkout process. By the time his elevator reached the lobby, he was greeted by another clone valet who escorted him to the same shuttle he had previously used, he recognized some of the scuffs, but it was a different driver. This driver was human and heavily scarred on the right side of his face, his right eye had been replaced with a full tactical implant that looked like a jeweler¡¯s eye piece coming out of scar tissue. Around the eyebrow, an angular socket frame could be seen stretching the scar and skin. In a surprisingly articulated and soft voice, he asked: ¡°Greetings sir. I take it that I am conveying the gentlemen to his craft at the airport?¡± ¡°Eh¡­ Greetings, and yes?¡± Peter didn¡¯t feel as comfortable as with the previous driver, so instead of sitting next to him in the front seat, he sat in the back seat. He watched the driver get in and after a moment, he felt a gentle acceleration of the vehicle as it slowly started moving. Very different driving style than last time¡­ As they pulled away from the resort, Peter enjoyed the sights under daylight, it was very different than the night drive he had experienced. The temperature cooled by a few degrees as they crested the highest point of the road and the view changed. He saw the small airport, with its two-story control tower. The satellite relay, radar and various other sensors where on its roof. This time, one of the two large hangars had its main door opened and inside, a large, private interplanetary shuttle was being serviced. Peter¡¯s encephalon quickly identified the model and specs. It was one of Kusanagi Heavy Industries luxury shuttles, the Colibri VI. According to the info gathered, the Colibri IV had just entered the market nineteen years ago and the model V was supposed to replace it in about 10 years. So, someone clearly had money and connections, since a brand-new Colibri IV¡¯s sticker price was $3,000,000, Peter had no idea how much a VI would be, but he figured in the hundreds of millions. It was big enough that it had an internal shuttle bay large enough to accommodate a small landing craft like the Arrow X2 that Peter piloted here. Peter forgot about the Colibri VI as they approached his own landing pad. One of the three VTOL craft that were there when he arrived was gone and two more had arrived. None parked close. As they gently came to a stop next to the rear entry hatch, the driver quickly exited and offered a hand to Peter to help him get out ¡°May I help the gentleman?¡± Peter smiled a little and replied ¡°No but thank you. I enjoyed the drive and the view. Thanks for leaving me to my thoughts.¡± ¡°The gentleman is most welcome.¡± The driver who still hadn¡¯t identified himself bowed, returned to the driver¡¯s seat and left, but instead of heading back the way they came from, he headed for the control tower. Peter turned his attention to the X2 and connected for a status report. He saw that the craft had been serviced and refueled. There was an invoice, but it indicated no charge due to him being a preferred customer. There was also a personal message attached to the invoice. It was from Melinda. Have a nice flight back. Don¡¯t be a stranger! Peter started the pre-flight checks and coordinated with the control tower for his departure. While he donned the spacesuit, he also logged his flight plan with the Occinus Air Traffic Control network, it was approved immediately. All necessary tasks done, he took off and about five minutes later, he was again in sub-orbital altitude, this time, in full sunlight. Things looked very different. To get a better view, he rotated the X2 one hundred and eighty degrees on its axis so that the canopy was towards Occinus instead of towards the stars. The X2¡¯s auto-pilot sent a notice that it would re-orient itself to initiate de-orbiting in 5 minutes. Peter double-checked the time and realized that indeed, over two hours had passed while he stared in wonder at the world below him. Returning to his seat and strapping himself in, he re-oriented the craft himself and did a quick system¡¯s check before de-orbiting. When he reached his window, he used the thrusters and slowed the X2 down and started an aerodynamic descent. Fifteen minutes later, he was touching down in George¡¯s reserved VTOL landing pad. Local time was 05:58. Peter had again forgotten about the time zones; Melinda¡¯s island was 7 hours ahead. Once the post flight checkup was completed with no issues found, he ordered and paid for a standard servicing and refuel. When Peter received confirmation that the service and refuel were scheduled, he checked a few local alcohol stores and sent 28 years old bottle of Laphroaig scotch whiskey and a heartfelt thank you note to George for the use of his Arrow X2. Peter exited the craft, locked it and went into the terminal, got himself a coffee and easily found an unused table to sit down. He called the Twin Pearl Hotel again and selected VR. He was once more in the virtual hotel lobby. He noticed that the ambient light and outside settings had not changed from his last visit, they were likely fixed at some time of the day. As he approached the counter, the same front desk clerk greeted him ¡°Good morning Mr Gordon. How may I help you?¡± ¡°Good morning. It seems I made a small mistake in my estimated arrival time. Could the room be available earlier?¡± ¡°Absolutely Mr Gordon. You are booked in a privately owned suite; this means there are currently no guests in it. We can have the room ready for you in less than thirty minutes. Would this suffice?¡± ¡°Yes, that would be great. Would you also be able to pick me up from the airport? I¡¯ve already landed.¡± ¡°The shuttle is on its way. If you make your way to the hotel shuttle area, a car will be there shortly. It will be white town car, with our logo of a shell holding two pearls within; it should arrive within twelve minutes from now.¡± ¡°Thanks, and again, sorry about the mistaken arrival time.¡± ¡°Think nothing of it Mr Gordon. Your convenience is our goal here at the Twin Pearl Hotel. Will there be anything else? Breakfast perhaps?¡± Remembering how his own clothes were peed on and having pretty much only what he was wearing Peter asked ¡°¡­ actually, do you have a shop or store where I might buy clothing? I need some.¡± ¡°We have a number of shops in the hotel and there is a fairly large mall nearby should you need more than our shops provide.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great, thanks.¡± The clerk said the same goodbye as last time, ¡°Thank you for choosing the Twin Pearl Hotel, may you enjoy your stay.¡± Peter disconnected shortly after, stretched, took a sip of his now tepid coffee and made a face. He got up and dropped the cup into the recycler. He slowly made his way through the terminal, it was nearly deserted. Since there were no other large cities on Occinus most of the travelers were using private or chartered aircrafts to travel to and from their destinations, just like he just did. Others were headed to or coming from the spaceport¡¯s security gates. Most traffic was to or from other star systems. A quick Netlink search confirmed the main orbital station would eventually change orbit and move next to the space elevator. There were a few resort hotels in orbit as well as a few in the asteroid ring, including a major casino and red-light district all in one. He also found four major mining stations in the asteroid ring and a rocket fuel harvesting and processing station around the only methane gas giant. The last station he found was an observation and refueling station in the heliosphere, about 400 million km away from the jump gate. Peter dismissed the search, he had arrived at the lower level of the airport where auto-cabs, limousines, private vehicles and hotel shuttles could be found. Each had their own designated areas and directions were good. As he walked towards the hotel shuttle area, he saw no vehicles waiting, so headed there and waited. Three minutes later he saw a white town car with the twin pearl logo pull into the shuttle area and the driver exited. Peter expected a clone and was not disappointed. At current market rates, you could buy a one-hundred-year clone that would work for ninety years for less than ten years of salary that would be paid a human worker. Clones are still subject to labor laws and it is illegal for a clone to work more than six hours per day or more than four days in a week. There are some exceptions, but not many and very difficult to get approved. Fines levied for companies overworking are heavy and include immediate release of the clone or clones involved in overwork. So, it was very rare to see such occurrences. ¡°Excuse me sir, are you Mr Gordon?¡± The driver¡¯s question brought Peter out of his pondering ¡°Yes, that¡¯s me, sorry, I was distracted.¡± ¡°Not at all Mr. Gordon. Are we going to the hotel right away? I was told you might need to do some shopping.¡± ¡°The hotel is fine, I¡¯ll shop later.¡± ¡°Very good sir.¡± The clone walked to the passenger door and held it open for Peter. ¡°Thanks.¡± As Peter entered the town car, he saw it was quite well appointed. The smell was pleasant, but Peter couldn¡¯t place it. The car was already set for Outdoor mode, showing the aboveground view, instead of the roadway tunnels. The car had a fancy drink processor and a small fridge with a glass door showing a selection of muffins, croissants and some sandwiches. His Netlink also received the driver¡¯s record which was flawless and user rating which was surprisingly poor at just 3.2 stars out of 5. A quick review showed a lot of 1 star with negative mentions of clones. If he ignored the racist ratings, the driver had 4.9 out of 5, more in line with what he expected. Once the driver was back in his seat, he asked ¡°You have everything? No forgotten luggage?¡± ¡°All good, I only had this small bag.¡± Peter answered and the driver nodded to himself as he drove away. After about two minutes after leaving the airport they entered a strip of casinos, hotels, resorts, restaurants and shopping centers could be seen. Further west and north, Peter could make out high density residential towers. The view was suddenly blocked by large buildings, they had entered the district. Almost immediately after, the limousine pulled into a large park area, dominated by a tall building with architectural features reminding Peter of a conch. The driveway looked like it was paved with interlocking assorted seashells. There were sandy walkways on either side. As they pulled under the car port, the driver parked the limousine and came to open Peter¡¯s door. ¡°I hope you had a pleasant drive, and welcome to the Twin Pearl Hotel.¡± ¡°Yes, it was pleasant, thank you.¡± Now that he was out of the car, Peter saw that they had just exited the underground. The hotel was surrounded by a large courtyard with two tunnels, likely in and out of the underground roadways. He could see in the center of the driveway, a large black circle with a subtle shell holding two shining pearls within. He could smell the burnt sugar smell of rocket fuel a bit more strongly than in the simulation. When he looked around, between the hotels, he could see parts of the spaceport, less than 2 km away. Before entering the hotel, Peter rated the driver five stars and tipped him twenty credits. Inside, the lobby looked identical to the VR simulation he had visited. Maybe a little more lived in, like a little wear on the carpet or dead leaves on some of the plants. Surprisingly, the front desk clerks were the same as in the VR. As he approached the check-in counter, he saw why, they were holograms. They were likely operated by the hotel¡¯s QAI, which would explain their presence in RL and in VR. The same front desk clerk that had helped him previously approached the counter and greeted him: ¡°Hello again and welcome to the Twin Pearl Hotel, Mr Gordon! I trust you had a pleasant drive?¡± ¡°Yes, thank you. I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but are you a QAI?¡± The front desk clerk bowed slightly ¡°Indeed. I replace all stationary staff, phone and VR operators. I also run all the hotels environmental and automatic functions. I also perform most HR and payroll duty with human oversight. I was the first hotel class QAI installed on Occinus and am still the best rated.¡± ¡°Impressive, how many instances can you support?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a medium scale hive QAI, so I can manage up to 20 fully active instances via holograms and have up to 200 concurrent virtual client interactions.¡± ¡°Hive?¡± ¡°Yes, the closest I could approximate it would be that all instances are individuals who share the same memories and subconscious mind. So, while we are all slightly different, we all strive for the same goal and we know the same things. If you want more information, here is a link to my model on the manufacturer¡¯s site.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Peter spent a few seconds rubbing his beard and thinking before replying ¡°Ok, I think I get it. Thanks for the link, I¡¯ll check it out. Speaking of checking it out, would I be able to check in?¡± ¡°Absolutely, I¡¯ve had your room readied when I sent the limousine to pick you up. I¡¯ve just sent you the room¡¯s keycode and directions.¡± A small hologram layout of the hotel appeared next to the front desk clerk. ¡°We are here, in the lobby. The elevators are here, and here. Your room is here. The rooftop terrace is open to all guests and after dark, it is adults only.¡± As he spoke each area mentioned was highlighted on the hologram, making it very easy to locate. ¡°The exercise facility uses most of the fourth floor, here. We have a small indoor pool next to it and a much larger one outside, at the back of the hotel. The indoor pool is always opened, but the outdoor pool¡¯s hours are 06:00 to 23:00. There are three restaurants within the hotel and four shops, one of which has a nano-factory on site. Do you have any questions?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s good. You¡¯re thorough. Thanks.¡± The front desk clerk bowed again ¡°Enjoy your stay at the Twin Perl Hotel. I can always be reached on the LocalNet.¡± Peter waved and nodded, then headed for the elevators. The first five floors were the lobby, restaurants, shops, exercise area and conference rooms. The next thirteen floors were sixteen standard rooms of varying sizes, up to adjoining family suites. On the nineteenth and twentieth, were the sub penthouse suites, only ten per floor. His own room was 2005. The twenty first floor was separated into only four penthouse suites and the twenty second was a single large presidential suite. Above that, the public rooftop terrace and bar. Peter exited the elevator and as he approached his room, sent the key code. The door unlocked. As he entered, he saw that the suite was just a bit smaller than his own condo. At the entrance, there was a large closet and integrated bench seat and a door leading to a small bathroom with standing shower. There was only a minimal kitchen counter with a small fridge and sink, but a full-sized dining table with six chairs. Sharing the open space was a large living room with a comfortable looking seating area. There was an open, but separate den with a businesslike desk and office chair. The outside walls were all glass, and he could see access to a large, covered balcony. The master bedroom had a walk-in closet and its own full-sized bathroom and private deck with a hot tub on it. The second bedroom held two twin beds and had ample closet space. The open concept layout was like his own condo, but then again, there are only so many configurations for open layouts. A large open space for the living room and dining room. His own condo had a full, if smallish kitchen and a third room which he had turned into a dojo. Since he had nothing to unpack, Peter connected to the shop downstairs with the nano-factory and ordered himself three pairs of jeans, a dozen assorted t-shirts, fifteen underwear and twenty pairs of socks. He also ordered a hoodie and a rain proof jacket. He already was wearing his favorite boots and vest, but he also ordered a pair of running shoes. Since all of what he ordered was from generic or open source, his entire order was only $187 and would be printed in about thirty minutes, at which point it would be delivered to his room. As he started to yawn, he had a quick shower and lay down for a quick nap. There was a strange sound, it woke Peter out of a strange dream of flying and a something about a cat. The noise occurred again, it was his own stomach, he was hungry. Looking at the time, it was 11:09 and he had slept just under three hours. As he scratched away at the crud in the corner of his eye, he stopped and smiled. It really was nice having his hands back. His HUD showed a waiting message from the LocalNet, his clothes were delivered and were waiting in a box, outside his door. From habit, he tried querying the doorcam footage, but he didn¡¯t have access to it. Now that he had access to his encephalon and its decrypting tools, he thought he should be able to hack the door but decided against it. Instead, he reached out to the hotel¡¯s QAI. It answered immediately to his Vid call: ¡°Good morning Mr Gordon; How may I assist?¡± ¡°Would it be too much trouble to give me access to the room¡¯s doorcam and internal security system?¡± ¡°No problems at all, we have similar requests quite often. I just sent you the admin access codes. Will there be anything else?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s it¡­ wait, do I remember correctly and if I order room service, is that through you?¡± ¡°Indeed. I replaced all stationary personal and client interfaces. What would you like to order?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t checked the menu but surprise me. Something with chicken and easy to eat.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve placed an order. Did you want to pre-authorize charges or start a tab?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pre-authorize charges.¡± ¡°Confirmed. Enjoy your meal!¡± And the QAI hung up before Peter could ask what he was getting. I guess I¡¯ll be surprised¡­ Peter checked the doorcam¡¯s footage and it showed the box being delivered by a male hotel staff, he couldn¡¯t tell if it was a human or a clone. No other traffic crossed the doorcam since, so he opened the door and brought the box inside. Opening the box, he saw his order was correct, so he grabbed some clean clothes for himself and put the rest away in one of the chests of drawers. Barely using a fraction of the available space. He put his dirty clothes in the room¡¯s laundry basket; but didn¡¯t order a clean yet. The laundry basket was setup against the hallway wall, so that if he ordered it, the dirty clothes would be taken away without entering the room or having access to anything else. He barely finished when the door¡¯s proximity alert sent him a notice of movement. About two seconds later, the doorcam picked up a male hotel staff holding a covered tray. There was a knock on the door ¡°Room service.¡± Peter sent the unlock command to the door and said: ¡°Enter.¡± Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t a clone delivering the food. It was a human that appeared to be in his late fifties. Since every adult was guaranteed free lodging, food, clothes, computer access and a limited allowance, it was rare to see a human working in the more menial services or low paying jobs at his age. His name tag showed J. Barker. He expertly and efficiently laid out the lunch. It turned out to be a service of fruits laid out on top of three slices of cheese and three small burritos. By the smell, spicy chicken. There was also a glass of what looked like frothy or lumpy milk that smelled faintly of cinnamon. The waiter turned and asked, ¡°Will there be anything else sir?¡± ¡°Yes, what is that?¡± Peter asked, pointing at the drink. ¡°Ah, that is horchata, a traditional Mexican drink made with rice, milk, vanilla and cinnamon. It is quite pleasant with the spicy burritos.¡± The waiter had an accent that was from off planet, but not one Peter was familiar with. He thought about searching for it but changed his mind as it was irrelevant to him. Instead, he replied ¡°Thanks, I look forward to trying it.¡± Taking this comment as a dismissal, the waiter executed a faint bow, said ¡°Enjoy your meal and your stay at the Twin Pearl Hotel.¡± He turned, left and closed the door behind himself. His mouth was already watering from the smell, so Peter eagerly sat down to try the burritos and horchata. Both were excellent, tasting closer to home made than what he would have expected from a restaurant or room service. The chicken was moist and flavorful, he particularly liked the slightly burned crispy bits of spices and sauce at the edges of the cubed meat, from where it was charred by the flame grill. He did enjoy the horchata and it did go well with the burritos, but a plain glass of milk would have been more his choice. Meal done, he put everything back on the tray and put the tray in the hallway. Now Peter had to decide what to do. He had a few things to do, call back detective Creed, call back officer Keiran, file a break-in claim with his insurance and find that robot, which was the reason he had his implant reactivated. After a short internal debate, he decided start with the insurance. He connected to his Apartment¡¯s AA and looked up his policy information. He was insured with Insurancium Home & Vehicle, an independent local insurance company. He remembered choosing them because in case of a claim, he didn¡¯t want to have to deal with either virtual, off-world or outsourced adjusters. Insurancium being on planet, guaranteed quick and in person response. A quick search gave Peter the contact information and he contacted them. He was only offered voice or vid options, no VR, but that wasn¡¯t surprising since at this time, he¡¯d be speaking to the claims center to take his information and pass on the claim to an actual adjustor who would then call him back after reviewing it. Peter sat down in one of the love seats, reclined it and selected vid-call, using his virtual interface instead of one of the room¡¯s multiple vid panels. The call was answered very quickly by an AA, using voice only and showing the company logo in the vid windows. He gave his policy information, selected Home, Theft & Vandalism and the AA transferred the call to the appropriate claims agent. He waited about nine seconds and the call was answered by an attractive female clone with yellow eyes. ¡°Thank you for calling Insurancium Home & Vehicle. My name is Lisa, and I will help you file your claim. May I confirm your name and policy number?¡± ¡°Hi, my name is Peter Gordon, and my policy number is HQV644A26J.¡± ¡°Thank you Mr Gordon. Just to confirm, you selected to file a Theft & Vandalism claim?¡± ¡°Yes, my condo was broken into, there was some damage done to the premises and property on site as well as some theft.¡± ¡°Does you¡¯re building, or condo have a security system?¡± ¡°Yes, to both.¡± ¡°Does your security system include audio and/or video recording?¡± ¡°Yes, to both. I have video and holographic footage.¡± ¡°Has the incident been reported to the police yet?¡± ¡°Yes, it was automatically reported by the condo¡¯s AA. I have already received the police report, case number and have the responding officer¡¯s information and footage.¡± ¡°Mr Gordon, would you be able to send me both your condo and the police footage, as well as relevant information?¡± ¡°Yes, sending it now.¡± Peter sent the files via his Netlink. ¡°I have created your claim number PGO- 786563 and the files and been have attached to the claim. An adjuster should contact you later today. May we reach you via this contact information?¡± ¡°Yes, this is my contact information.¡± ¡°May I help you with anything else Mr Gordon?¡± ¡°No, thank you, you¡¯ve been helpful.¡± ¡°Thank you again for choosing Insurancium Home & Vehicle.¡± The clone then ended the call. Peter filed away the claim information and adjusted himself on the loveseat. Next, he debated between calling detective Creed or officer Keiran and decided to keep the worst for last. So, he called officer Keiran, turns out his contact information was the police station and not a direct contact, the front desk offered voice or vid-call, Peter chose vid-call. ¡°North Beach Police Station, you have reached the non-emergency desk. I¡¯m Officer Dean, how may I direct your call?¡± ¡°Hi, my apartment was broken into and officer Keiran asked me to call him back.¡± ¡°Let me check, one moment¡­¡± The call was put on hold for about two minutes and officer Keiran came on ¡°Thanks for calling me back Mr Gordon. After I filed the break-in report, I was notified that there was a pending assault investigation between you and two known members of Humanity First. Considering their tags left all over your apartment, we have assumed that the two incidents are linked.¡± ¡°Yes, I had reached the same conclusion. Also, they used cheap anonymizers, their faces are clearly visible in many reflective surfaces and mirrors from my condo¡¯s holographic footage.¡± ¡°That¡¯s certainly convenient. Not many have holographic recording in their homes, I¡¯ll make note that a positive ID was made. If the cases hadn¡¯t already been linked, this would do so. The break-in case has been transferred to detective Creed as a related incident. Any further questions or request pertaining to this break-in should be directed to him. Do you have his contact information?¡± Peter sighed ¡°Yes, I have it already. Could you transfer me?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try, if he¡¯s not at his desk, leave a message and he¡¯ll call you back.¡± ¡°Thanks¡± The call was placed on hold again and after fifteen seconds he got the messaging system ¡°This is the desk of detective Creed. If this is an emergency, hang up now and use your Netlink¡¯s emergency call. I¡¯m currently unable to answer your call, please leave me your name, number and purpose of call and I will return the call as soon as I can.¡± Peter was very tempted to hang up, but decided against it ¡°My name is Peter Gordon, here is my contact info. I am returning the call regarding the assault and my condo¡¯s break-in.¡± Message left, he ended the call. Taking a deep breath, Peter got up and went to the balcony. His room was facing north and from where he was, he could see his neighborhood by the ocean. If he zoomed with his cybernetic eyes, he could make out the pier where he saw the robot. He was still unsure on how to find it, but now, he had more options, not all of them legal, but¡­ he¡¯d cross that bridge if or when it came down to that. Feeling refreshed and optimistic, he decided to go and do just that. Peter got out of the auto-cab and paid the fare. The cab had pulled into one of the many spots at the landing under the pier¡¯s plaza, not far from the bus transit exchange. The underground parking lot was large, but also mostly unused. Through the open stairway, sunlight, ocean smells and beach noises were coming in. As he looked around, he saw that out of the six buses currently parked, only one had a driver¡¯s seat, there was a jacket on it and a cap on the dash, but no driver. As he crested the stairs, his eyes automatically adjusted to the bright, noon sun. He was in the plaza with two restaurants, four shops and three street vendors on either side of the main walkway, the stairs faced north-east, towards the pier and the ocean. The restaurants both had terraces that were unusually empty given how busy the pier was. One was a Space Burger, part of huge chain with locations on most planets. The other was local crepe and sandwich place called Sand Witch. As Peter walked along, heading for the pier, he saw that since his last visit, tables had been installed and most were in use. There was also a lineup for the Mexi Max vending machine with the holographic chef he had seen previously. Apparently, it was the reason why the restaurant terraces were nearly empty. The food must be really something, I¡¯ll have to try it when it isn¡¯t so busy. Peter started by walking along the pier and looking for security cameras. He found a few, mostly posted to protect specific points, like the vending machines and storefronts. None were pointed at the beach. Considering that it was unlikely the robot took an auto-cab to get here, it had to walk from somewhere. Peter connected to the GlobalNet and pulled live satmaps for his area and searched for ¡°construction sites near me¡±. There were five sites, two for larger condominium towers along the beach within one km from the pier. Another was also less than on kilometer from the beach, but it was in the on the edge of this residential district and the neighboring commercial district. It didn¡¯t seem likely that the robot would walk through town. The other two were further inland still and were smaller projects, duplexes from what he could tell. As he walked back towards the beach and the seawall, Peter looked up robots in the workplace. Apparently, there were two classifications, those operated by AAs and those operated by QAI. AA operated robots or drones required a lot of supervision and were classified as work equipment. They were property and could be used non-stop, just like a drill or a spotlight. The QAI robots were different, because they worked independently and intelligently, they somehow got classified as non-civilian workers like clones and, were restricted to a maximum of thirty hours of work a week. From what he read; this law had been strongly lobbied by worker unions on nearly every planet with any form of government and was quickly passed as a Federation law. So, he was looking for a robot with a lot of time off, and one that didn¡¯t stay at the construction site during its off time. As he walked on the sea wall, he approached the first construction site. Based on the images on the safety walls, it was a large condominium complex with two towers surrounded by four separate buildings with three story townhouses. The lower half of the condominium tower was reserved for subsidized housing, the rest was on the purchasable century lease. Things had been this way since the great collapse back on earth. Now, nobody could own land, they could only purchase rights to it for a century, with the option to repurchase every century at the new market value. He tried to look inside, but the safety wall was quite tall and well built. He couldn¡¯t get in or peak through. Peter thought it was likely that the other construction site would have a similar safety wall, so, he decided to change tactic a little bit. Using his encephalon, he scanned the area for LocalNets and tried to find the one for the construction site. He quickly found it and it was protected by a homomorphic encryption, meaning each device had been paired and would have its own unique encryption and key. Normally, unless he had physical access to the LocalNet router, he shouldn¡¯t be able to hack this, but he now had access to the military grade quantum decryption chip installed into his encephalon. But this method would likely get spotted if someone was monitoring the LocalNet, unlikely in a low security environment, but he didn¡¯t want to take chances. Another option was to passively listen to all devices on the LocalNet to see if any were vulnerable. Peter sat on a bench by the sea wall, apparently looking at the sea, but listening to the wireless signals for unsecured devices. His initial search found over 6,000 devices on the LocalNet. The large majority being tools or limited device using an outside processor or a hive processor. Excluding these, it was down to less than 200. Looking at their traffic, he quickly tested the default factory encryption keys. His encephalon went through all devices in less than 5 seconds and out of these, he successfully broke the encryption on 11 devices and was now able to spoof them and modify data going in and out. Out of the 11 devices he had access to, he did a passive query for antivirus, firewalls or other types of protection, only 3 had such, so he disconnected from them. Next, he tried to install a rootkit on the remaining 8 devices, only one refused, prompting the user with a remote install request, he now had root access to 7 devices. He quickly set the most powerful of these to act as master and configured the others to run as a hive cluster. Now having access to the LocalNet, he searched their inventory and accounting for any item or transaction related to QAI or robots. There was a huge and useless list from inventory, and the accounting data was protected. It required an employee code, username and 2 Factor Authentication. Something that would be normally sent from a person¡¯s Netlink or PDA. He scanned the devices he controlled, he found the employee codes and usernames and since he controlled the device, he could respond to the 2FA request. Unfortunately, none of the devices were linked to employees in the accounting department, but one was a shift supervisor. Using the supervisor¡¯s device, he scanned it and found previous correspondence with two employees in the accounting department. He also read random emails sent by the supervisor to be able to copy his tone and writing style. That was the longest part so far, getting to this point had taken him less than 10 minutes; reading the supervisor¡¯s emails took over half an hour until he was certain he could fake the style and respond in it if necessary. Peter disabled email alerts and setup a rule moving any response from the accountants into the deleted items. Then, he wrote the email and sent it individually to both accountants previously contacted: ¡°Hey, can you check how many of them QAI robots we¡¯re supposed to have? Some of my guys are saying we¡¯re short one, but they don¡¯t know from which shift. Send me their make and model, I¡¯ll audit them.¡± Task done, he didn¡¯t wait for a response, he made his way to the next construction site to repeat the entire process, after which, he just walked back and forth between the two sites until he got responses. The second site was the first to respond at 14:20 in the afternoon and Peter quickly searched individual models for images, but none were a match. The other site¡¯s response arrived almost an hour later, and Peter repeated the search, but this time, he found one match! From what he could find online, this was an advanced CoreTech prototype, we¡¯re talking cutting edge technology that wouldn¡¯t be released for another two generations at least. A robot like this shouldn¡¯t be around and working. Or playing with a dog for that matter. While no prices were listed, from what Peter knew, developing that robot probably cost more than the entire construction project where it was working. Looking at the accounting entry, the robot was leased from a numbered company. That wasn¡¯t surprising as most heavy equipment would be leased for projects like this, but one thing did stand out, there were no other equipment leased from the numbered company. Peter checked the second construction site and found many repeated companies leasing heavy equipment and robots, but no other match for the numbered company. So, he had found a company that leased a single robot to a construction site and that company had in its inventory something that shouldn¡¯t be readily available. Peter searched the GlobalNet for the numbered company and found a match with contact information, website and physical address. The physical address was a postal box in a building renting virtual office space. From what Peter could gather, it was a fancy lobby and a few holographic offices or boardrooms that could be rented in real life and accessed via VR. A check via Satmaps and street view confirmed this. The website was a generic website template that listed both the same contact information and physical address he had found. It was a construction robot leasing agency, but there was no information on actual inventory, just generic free domain pictures part of the original template. Next, Peter tried the contact information, he was offered the choice between voice and vid-call, the call¡¯s information showed it to route through the virtual office. A few steps closer to finding the robot, Peter realized he was hungry. He looked to the Pier and the lunch rush was over, the tables were mostly empty, and he saw no lineups, time to try Mexi Max. He walked back towards the pier, less than 1 km away. This condominium complex would have quite a nice location when done. As Peter arrived at the Pier, he saw few people. A group of teenagers hanging out on the tables, a young woman holding a child by the hand while he was eating an ice cream cone. Further out, where the water was deeper, there were five fishermen, three standing against the railing, two with foldable chairs. He should have at least another hour before the end-of-work or dinner crowd started coming back, so he made his way to the vending machines where Mexi Max was located. ¡°Hey Ese! Haven¡¯t seen you in a while. You gonna order somethin¡¯ this time?¡± Peter was somewhat taken by surprise that the machine would remember him, he asked it ¡°You remember me?¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? I may be a cook, but I ain¡¯t no dummy.¡± Replied the holographic cook. As he looked at the vending machine, he estimated the space required for the food re-processor, nutrient tanks and holographic system, there should be no room for a QAI core, current models were the size of a small fridge. ¡°You sound like a QAI, but I don¡¯t see how one would fit in your box.¡± ¡°Ese¡¯s got a head on him. Yeah, I ain¡¯t here. I¡¯m what you¡¯d call a hive core, I¡¯m running all 50 of the new holographic cooking stations for Vega Vending.¡± Peter did a quick search for Vega Vending: they are a large corporation established on six planets. They specialize in commercial nano-factory and public food re-processor. Turns out he had already used their nano-factory on Melinda¡¯s resort and at the Twin Pearl, when he ordered clothing. Turning back to the cook, Peter decided to order something, and he looked at the menu. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll take a beef tortilla plate.¡± ¡°Coming right up¡± The cook placed small beef cubes on the grill and rang up the order, sending a payment request to Peter¡¯s Netlink. Peter paid and watched the cook make the meal, at the same time, realizing that there was no cook, no grill and that the food re-processor was just printing his food. But the smells were right and the visual was interesting. When the plate was done, the cook put it on the dispenser and the door opened to present Peter with the exact meal the cook had prepared. ¡°Enjoy Ese! Let me know if you want anything else.¡± ¡°I will, thanks¡± Peter headed for one of the tables and sat to enjoy his second Mexican dish that day. It was a big platter, and he ate most of it. It was very tasty, clearly the food re-processors had improved since his time in the military or this one was a much better model. There were no funky after taste and the tastes and texture were perfect. If he hadn¡¯t seen it, he wouldn¡¯t have believed this food was printed from a food re-processor. Meal finished, Peter was about to leave and head back to the hotel, but a thought occurred to him, he walked back to the Mexi Max and asked, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have seen a construction robot with a dog, would you?¡± ¡°Why you asking Ese?¡± ¡°So, you have seen them.¡± ¡°That ain¡¯t what I¡¯m saying either way, but wondering why you¡¯re asking.¡± Peter¡¯s shoulders slumped a bit and he turned to look at the horizon, over the ocean before answering. ¡°That night, when you first saw me, I was coming out of a bad place. And I thought I¡¯d found a kindred spirit when I saw his hands, or the robot¡¯s hands I should say, when he was under the pier, playing with a dog. It was a spark of hope, might not seem like much, but it made me want to find him.¡± ¡°Alright¡­ if I see him, I¡¯ll pass the message along. Tell him you¡¯re looking. Send me your contact info. I¡¯ll either pass it along or reach out if or when I hear back.¡± Peter sent his contact information and headed back to the underground parkade under the plaza, to get an auto-cab back to the Twin Pearl. Shortly after he got into the auto-cab, he received a vid-call request from detective Creed, which he answered ¡°Hi, this is Peter.¡± ¡°Hi Peter, this is detective Creed. I have a few more questions for you. Where you at a nightclub called Sticks before your altercation in the alley?¡± ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t see the relevance.¡± ¡°Well, I have a witness saying you were drunk and very hostile. That you were looking for a fight and ended up being asked to leave.¡± ¡°What?? No, I had one drink and a drunk woman was in my face. I left immediately after.¡± ¡°Still, that looks bad. Are you sure you wouldn¡¯t rather just drop the whole thing?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it, fuck you. I¡¯m getting a lawyer, he or she will contact you, but don¡¯t contact me again unless you¡¯re arresting me.¡± Peter hung up, wishing the virtual connection could be closed more forcefully. Frustrated, he slapped his thigh, hard. Ouch¡­ Rubbing it, he started to relax using the breathing exercise he used to do when disarming bombs. By the time the auto-cab pulled in the Twin Pearl Hotel driveway, he was once again calm. Wondering why he hadn¡¯t heard from the lawyers yet, he realized that for all that happened since he contacted them, he had only done so this morning. So far today, he had contacted the lawyers on another planet, flown nearly halfway around the world, checked into a private suite at a high-end hotel. He had also hacked two constructions sites and found some information on the robot he was searching for. He had also found that the Mexi Max vendor might have seen the robot too. Finally, he told the detective off. Peter was certain that if not a member, the detective was sympathetic to Humanity First nothing else would explain his behavior. He knew the movement was recent to Occinus because on his last visit before he retired, there was no hostility towards cyborgs or clones. A quick search on Humanity First gave him the basic information of their doctrine: clones, cyborgs and robots should be banned. It was the usual racist rhetoric about keeping the race pure, better, blah blah blah. Of course, he himself might be biased because he was in their hostility circle, but what it appeared to boil down to was the same as with any racist movement. Fear of becoming inferior or losing a perceived position. His ponderings were interrupted by the auto-cab when it asked for another destination. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Peter exited and went into the hotel, heading for his suite. While in the elevator, Peter received a vid-call request from The Bold, The Bad and The Law. He accepted the call ¡°This is Peter.¡± An attractive woman in her early forties was on the screen: ¡°Hi Mr Gordon, my name is Sarina Al-Bad. I¡¯m one of the firm¡¯s senior partners and I¡¯d like to be your lawyer with regards to your situation.¡± ¡°Your timing is impeccable, the detective in charge just called and tried to get me to drop the charges or he would make it look like I was the assaulter. How much do you charge or how do you bill for cases like this?¡± ¡°I understand that we will be facing Humanity First sympathizers. Our firm deals primarily with cases like yours, discrimination against veterans, cyborgs, clones or even transgenics. Depending on the cases, we can work on hourly billing, retainer or via a contingent fee arrangement. Normally, contingent fees cannot be used in criminal cases since there are no awards, but for cases like yours I strongly believe we can force a settlement for harassment and without you being charged criminally. I am confident enough to offer our criminal services pro-bono should you be charged.¡± Peter quickly looked that up, but basically, it means that he wouldn¡¯t have any up-front payments and that the lawyer would only get paid if their case was won or settled in his favor. The losing side usually being responsible for the winner¡¯s lawyer fees and they would also take a pre-agreed upon percentage of any settlement received. While Peter did have substantial economic reserves, he would rather not use it here. ¡°Yes, I think a contingent fee might be best. How would percentages work if any settlements are offered? If we get any how would it be charged?¡± ¡°Typically, in discrimination cases we will charge our legal fees directly to the other party. Any other fees, such as hiring experts or covering witness expenses would come out of the settlement first, then the remainder would be split according to the agreed upon percentage. Normally, if we get a settlement prior to incurring any expenses, we will only take 10%, but I have never seen this. If we get a settlement before going to court, but after expenses were incurred, we take 25%. If we go to court, the percentage is 33%. If we must appeal to a higher court, percentage goes to the maximum legal limit of 45% but this is very rare. If for any reason you chose to change firm after we start proceedings, you will be responsible for all legal fees and additional expenses incurred up to that point and we will waive any claim to future settlements.¡± Peter did another lookup, and these rates were pretty much standard. ¡°I accept these terms. I assume we have to sign something?¡± ¡°Thank you Mr Gordon. Yes, we can setup a secure VR session and we can sign legally binding documents. Do you have access to either a holographic room or VR gear?¡± Peter tapped his head ¡°I¡¯ve got an encephalon, so that¡¯s a yes.¡± ¡°Perfect, would you like a day or two to make sure you want to sign with us?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m ready to sign now if you have time.¡± ¡°Ok, I¡¯m sending you a link to our VR environment. I must caution you that while there will not be any cost for you, we will be using a low feedback VR environment to keep our costs down.¡± ¡°That¡¯s understandable, let me connect now.¡± To Peter¡¯s senses, it felt like diving into a cold pool, but after the immediate flash of cold, his body felt numb all over. He was now alone and standing in a small meeting room with a small meeting table with six comfortable looking chairs. One of the walls was a single, large, floor to ceiling window. He appeared to be down-town but could tell from the sky color and sun that it wasn¡¯t the Occinus sky. The sun was larger, and more orange. The sky was a very pale blue, almost white. The clouds themselves had a slight yellow tinge. On the ground, he could see gridlocked streets with pedestrian walkways besides and above them. It looked like they also had accelerated walkways on the busier corridors, with some observation and his encephalon, he estimated that the accelerated walkways traveled 15 km per hour, greatly increasing the travel speed for the average pedestrian. There were no flying cars here either, very few planets had a gravity field stable enough to support passive Higgs flying cars. A quick search confirmed that out of all 187 major colonies, only eleven supported them. Out of the thousands of minor colonies and outposts, about seven percent could support them, but most hadn¡¯t adopted them yet. The conference room door opened, and Samira walked in. Even if the VR was low feedback, it was visually good enough that he couldn¡¯t tell if the room was real with holographic projectors or if the room was a VR simulation. Samira greeted him. ¡°Mr Gordon, welcome to our little office on Calisto.¡± As she approached, she extended her hand. Peter shook it and the lack of feedback he received made him shudder. ¡°Yes, thank you. I don¡¯t mean to be indiscrete, but are we in a real room with holographic projectors? Or in VR?¡± ¡°This is a real room. Our entire office has been equipped with holographic systems to accommodate off world clients like yourself. My office is a few doors down. I could have come sooner, but I think it is more courteous to give some time to enjoy the environment. So, I delayed my entrance a little.¡± ¡°Thanks. And yes, I was enjoying the view, the sun here is more orange, but being downtown, I don¡¯t really see any native vegetation. Is the grass green here?¡± Samira came to stand besides Peter, by the Window. ¡°Most of the native plants are blue. If you look that way¡±, she pointed to the far-left edge of the window, ¡°you can see the Central Park. They initially tried to use earth-based plants, but they kept dying. As you can see, the native plants are doing quite well.¡± Leaning against the window, Peter looked. He saw the corner of a large park surrounded by squat residential buildings. The trees, grass and leaves were all different shades of blue. He could make out patches of colours along some of the paths, likely flowers, but it was too far for him to see anything. Normally, his cybernetic eyes would have been able to zoom in, but they didn¡¯t work in VR. Turning back to Samira, he returned to the purpose of his visit. ¡°Thanks for showing this to me, that¡¯s pretty cool. So, how do we sign this agreement?¡± ¡°Very easily. I show you the contract and send a secure version to your Netlink. You can read either the VR copy on the table or the copy I sent you, but either way, they are linked while we are in this session. Once we are done, both copies will be permanently locked with a quantum encryption and stored on write-once media. Another copy will be registered with the city¡¯s legal archive. Do you have any questions?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s pretty straight forward and similar to most legal contracts I¡¯ve signed, like my citizenship papers or my mortgage.¡± Peter sat down and scanned the copy in front of him. He used his encephalon to confirm the two copies were identical. Once he was done reading, he put his thumb down, which automatically attached an encrypted version of his unique Netlink ID. The copy he had received was also signed. Samira approached the contract and put her thumb in the second signature box. ¡°Now the document is dated and signed.¡± Turning to the ceiling, she continued ¡°End secure session.¡± A different voice was heard ¡°Both parties, please confirm end of session.¡± Samira simply said ¡°Confirmed.¡± Which Peter repeated. The voice then replied ¡°Confirmed, secure session ended.¡± ¡°Congratulations Peter, we are now your lawyers.¡± ¡°Thanks, that¡¯s a bit of a load off¡­ Will you be able to investigate detective Creed¡¯s last communication to me? I told him to fuck off, if you pardon the language. I¡¯d rather not deal with him again if possible.¡± ¡°Absolutely. I¡¯ll let you know our standard method, the first thing we do in cases like this is to hire a local private investigator and a few data miners to gather more information. Getting more of a background and as much data as possible. Things like his arrest records, articles, his online presence. Usually, it isn¡¯t hard to show prejudice bias then we can use that leverage later.¡± ¡°Makes sense. Again, thanks.¡± ¡°My pleasure. Feel free to stay and enjoy the view if you like. I¡¯ll be in the next room. If you need anything, you can ask our office QAI.¡± She extended her hand again and Peter shook it. He really did not enjoy the low feedback VR, but he understood the choice given the costs. He didn¡¯t stay very long, he looked out the window for a few minutes more and disconnected. He was still standing in the elevator which was in the lobby. While he knew his encephalon would have warned him if anyone or anything touched him, he still patted himself down, which he realized was a reflex from his childhood. He hadn¡¯t carried a wallet or keys since he joined the military at eighteen when he received his first implant, his Netlink. Back then, they weren¡¯t free and were not widely used. He quickly reviewed the footage from his eyes and saw that he rode the elevator sixteen times in the fifty minutes he had been standing there. No one commented or looked at him twice. Connecting to VR in public places was commonplace enough that unless someone was blocking a door, nobody cared. Peter sent his floor to the elevator and when it opened, he exited. After a few steps, he stopped and leaned against the wall for a moment, he had to stretch his legs. His knees were killing him. He added a reminder when connecting to VR to check if he was standing, and if he was, to tell him to sit his ass down. Knees somewhat looser, he went into his suite. Once he was there, he debated calling Melinda or the robot¡¯s numbered company, but he was starting to feel quite tired. So, he headed for the bedroom, stripped and barely got the covers over himself before falling asleep. Peter woke up early, the sun was rising and when he looked at the time, it was 06:11. He didn¡¯t really remember his dreams, but he felt refreshed. Things were looking up, he had a few leads for the robot, he had a lawyer, and his implants were all activated. As he went to the bathroom for the morning¡¯s urgent business, he checked his messages and had two. He was about to read or watch them but decided to enjoy his morning piss instead. Task done, he washed his hands, then his face. He found a toothbrush that he didn¡¯t remember being there the day before. Shrugging, he opened its packaging and looked around for toothpaste, but there was none. Right, this was a hotel toothbrush. It was coated with a gel that replaced toothpaste. He brushed his teeth and when done, put it in a glass, by the sink. It should be good for ten uses or so before running out of gel. Peter looked at his recent clothing purchases for gym wear and realized he didn¡¯t buy any. He contacted the store and placed an order for a pair of sweatpants and wicking t-shirt. He also ordered sport socks and runners. He paid for the order and was told it would be ready in 7 minutes for pickup or 15 minutes for delivery. He chose pickup. No sense if having a shower before a workout, so he got dressed and went downstairs to the shop to pick up his order. On the way down, he checked his messages. The first message was a short vid-mail left at 03:10, so he watched it. ¡°Hey Ese, remember that special menu item we talked about? I think that if you come by tonight or tomorrow night around 02:00, you¡¯ll find it really hits the spot.¡± So, the Mexi Max vendor had talked to the robot and he agreed to meet me. Peter didn¡¯t think he¡¯d forget, but he still put in a reminder. He exited the elevator and started to walk towards the shop. The second message was text message with no sender, received at 06:51, it simply read ¡°drop it or your dead clone lover¡±. Peter set his encephalon to run a trace program on it and set an alert when it completed the trace or failed. The shop looked like most small clothing outlet with some inventory on shelves, but the focus of the shop was the ordering panel and nano-factory. This is where he headed. When he arrived, he queried his order and was told it was nearly done. A countdown appeared on screen and there was less than a minute remaining. Once it reached zero, a panel opened and his items were presented on a tray, neatly folded and vacuum sealed. Since he had prepaid the order, he simply took his item and went back to his room to change. As expected from clothes printed for him on measure, they fit perfectly. Now wearing gym wear, he headed to the gym for his morning workout. When he arrived, there were two women on thread mills, but by the fact that there were two empty ones between them indicated they were not together. No one was using the free weights, but there was a man using one of the three universal machines. He seemed somewhat unfit and was sweating profusely. He kept covertly glancing at the backside of the two running women. He was startled when he saw Peter and blushed. Only one of the two women glanced his way when he entered. Peter went about his routine, as best he could, starting with some katas to warm up, then some cardio. He picked one of the two free thread mills and ran for about fifteen minutes, then wiped it down. After, he used free weights to do most of his routine and left. At some point during his cardio, the unfit man had left. And during his workout, so had one of the running women, the one that had ignored his entrance. The other woman was still jogging and barely sweating, that was some good cardio as she was jogging at a good pace, faster than he could sustain for that long. He left her running and went to his room for a much-needed shower. Shower done, Peter messaged Melinda to let her know he was settled in and would be available most of the day to chat. She replied almost immediately to meet her in the hotel¡¯s restaurant Undersea Sushi when it opened at 11:00. With about two hours until he had to meet her, Peter decided to look in on the status of the trace. Whoever had sent it had used a basic VPN to try and hide his identity and location, but like most, they didn¡¯t realize that VPNs were meant to encrypt your endpoint, not really make you anonymous or undetectable. The trace had already broken through the VPN and had identified the device as a low-end PDA. It had already identified which sector it had originated in, via its Citynet ID and was now trying to match localnet. It found it a few minutes later, it was the localnet for True News of Humanity, a so-called online news outlet, but really, just a mouthpiece for Humanity First. Peter was unsure what to do with this information; but decided to forward the original message and his own trace to his lawyer. He also took steps to ensure that he couldn¡¯t be similarly traced and made sure all his traffic routed through his apartment. He also set his apartment¡¯s firewall to keep a record of all scans and intrusion attempts. There was still more than an hour left before his meeting, so Peter decided to check his old hacker stomping grounds for new tools, tips and new developments. The meeting reminder interrupted him, and he realized he had lost track of time. There were lots of interesting topics and new techniques. He¡¯ll have to come back and read some more. Standing in front of Undersea Sushi, Peter hesitated before entering. Trying to catch a glimpse of his appearance in the floor to ceiling aquarium that walled off the restaurant from the hotel. He quickly combed his beard with his fingers and smelled his breath with cupped hands. Why am I so nervous? It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going on a date¡­ After a deep breath, Peter walked in and his personal assistant popped up with a reminder, for the next time he entered a holographic facility. Surprised, Peter checked and the entire restaurant was apparently a giant holographic room. He also realized that what he thought was a floor to ceiling aquarium was in fact the entire restaurant appearing to be underwater. He saw the host look at him with a faint smile. Peter approached the host and said ¡°I have a reservation, either under Peter or Melinda¡±. ¡°Let me check¡­¡± without doing anything the host took two seconds and responded ¡°yes, I have it here, under both names. If you will follow me?¡± The host left the greeting podium and walked into a wall of water, after a few steps, he turned back ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s all holographic, you won¡¯t get wet or have issues breathing¡±. Peter reached a hand in the water and his Netlink received a prompt for sensory feedback, which he accepted. Instantly, he could feel the water on his hand, comfortably cool, yet it did not have the resistance he expected. As he walked into the wall of water, he received a second prompt for VR visual overlay, which he also accepted. Now, while he felt no resistance or had any problems breathing, everything looked like it was submerged. The host¡¯s hair were waving in a gentle current as he walked. Looking down, he saw his clothes behave as if underwater. The host had waited, expecting this type of reaction. Once satisfied, Peter nodded, and the host resumed his walk and escorted him to his table. Melinda was already seated, but under the water effects, her skin looked perfectly human. Peter sat and disabled the visual overlay, but her appearance did not change, even if his and the host did. He realized she was here holographically and didn¡¯t need the overlay for the water effect. ¡°Hi Melinda! I see why you chose this place, no commute.¡± Still looking around with the visual overlay off, he saw that about half the clientele was here holographically. None of the staff appeared to be holographic. ¡°Hey Peter, how¡¯s the head treating you?¡± ¡°Surprisingly well, I feel like a blind man seeing again¡­¡± he answered with a shudder. ¡°No one should have to lose that.¡± ¡°I completely agree, in fact, I¡¯m part of a pretty large lobbying group trying to make is so, that after service, the encephalon isn¡¯t shut down anymore.¡± ¡°That¡¯d be something¡­ I know Alex had a real hard time after his shutdown, much worse than I did, but then he seemed to get better.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. He got better after I reactivated his encephalon.¡± Melinda dropped both her hands on the table and continued. ¡°Anyways, let¡¯s talk about something else, this topic just pisses me off.¡± ¡°Absolutely. You said you also searched Daisuke? I¡¯d heard from George he was on planet, I had pinged him a few times, but he never responded.¡± Scratching his beard, he paused for a moment ¡°Thinking back on it, I think George said that Daisuke came into his restaurant and was surprised to see him. His own encounter might have been more of an accident.¡± ¡°Indeed. I barely found anything on him either. After he immigrated, there weren¡¯t many traces of him. He¡¯s mostly stayed off grid and used aliases. He provides security to a number of battered women¡¯s shelters and provides self-defense classes to any willing participants for free.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I expected, but I¡¯m not surprised either. For all of his being a made to order assassin clone, he always had a soft spot for the helpless.¡± ¡°If push came to shove, I¡¯m pretty sure I could get in touch with him, but I¡¯ve let him be for now. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a reason he chose this planet to retire and why he¡¯s stayed away.¡± A waiter approached, interrupting the conversation. He placed two small and empty cups and a tea pot in front of them. He also swiped over the tabletop and menus appeared and floated in front of each of them. ¡°Welcome to the Undersea Sushi. Have you been here before?¡± ¡°Yes¡± ¡°No¡± Melinda and Peter answered simultaneously. Turning to Peter, the waiter continued ¡°Simply double tap an item on the menu to order. Swipe the menu left to cancel the order and swipe right to send it through. If at any point you feel uncomfortable with the underwater effects, simply raise your hand¡± the waiter raised his hand¡± and after two seconds, the system will disengage around you.¡± The waiter was now surrounded by a large pillar of air. ¡°To activate again, simply give a thumbs up for two seconds¡±, which he did, ¡°and the holographic effect will activate again¡±. Pointing to a different section of the holographic menu, the waiter continued ¡°If you wish any alcoholic beverages, they can be ordered here and will be added separately to your bill¡±. Turning to Melinda ¡°For holographic clientele, there are no extra charges for alcohol¡±. Melinda took her cue and said ¡°No booze for me, I don¡¯t like the taste of alcohol enough to drink it if I don¡¯t get a buzz.¡± Peter looked at the waiter and ordered ¡°I¡¯ll have a gin on the rocks. I don¡¯t care which brand, so long as it isn¡¯t the cheapest or most expensive.¡± After the waiter had left, both Melinda and Peter started ¡°Did you ¡­¡± ¡°Oh and I¡­¡± which set both to laugh. Peter waved to Melinda and she tried again ¡°Did you end up finding that robot?¡± ¡°Indeed I did, not only that, I¡¯m going to meet him later tonight! I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡± ¡°Did the encephalon help as you expected it?¡± ¡°Absolutely, I¡¯d never have managed my little hacks and found his leasing company without it.¡± Looking at the menu, Peter ordered a few items before continuing. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not entirely true. With my laptop, I could have brute-force my way into their systems, but that would have raised a lot of alarms. With the encephalon, I was able to soft hack vulnerable devices which left no traces on the LocalNets themselves.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, you don¡¯t want to add Vigilante cyborg hacker steals private worker information for evil deeds to your stellar reputation with what¡¯s-his-name detective.¡± ¡°Fuck that guy. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s the one who told Humanity First that I was out of town and got my place vandalized. I also told him not to contact me again and go through my lawyer. Oh, by the way, I did hire the lawyers your recommended, thanks.¡± The waiter came back with a tray and started placing plates with the various items both had ordered. He turned towards Peter ¡°Please note that the plates with the blue trim contain holographic food and the plates with red trim have real food¡±. Peter noticed that the tea cups also had the blue and red trims. Curious, he grabbed Melinda¡¯s tea cup and took a sip, and, nothing. The tea level had decreased, but he got no liquid, heat or flavor. Turning to the waiter before he left, he asked ¡°Excuse me, how does the teapot work? There¡¯s only one.¡± ¡°I think there¡¯s a sensor or something that blocks real tea from being poured into the holographic cup or something. I could check if you like.¡± ¡°Please do, I¡¯m curious.¡± Turning to Melinda who was giving him a stare ¡°What? I really want to know!¡± Waving it away, Melinda laughed ¡°That¡¯s the kind of thing that used to piss me off to no end, when we were dating. You and your out of the box questions no one thinks about.¡± ¡°I blame it on the fact that I¡¯m a full century older than you. You forget that I grew up at the end of the collapse, back on Earth, I joined when it was still United Earth Space Force and not the Federation. When we got the first tech downloads from the gate, it really changed things back on Earth. I saw it, and lived it. You were born on one of the early colonies weren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yeah, like the third or fourth. That was before the Federation setup rules and guidelines, it was basically a megacorporation sponsored slave camp. My only out was the military, which I took as soon as I could.¡± The waiter brought platters of food, which interrupted the conversation. While they both ate, Peter asked ¡°Hey, if you¡¯re here virtually, does that mean you still have to eat after this?¡± ¡°If I was still like you? Yes. But if you remember, I¡¯m a full replacement cyborg. Basically, I¡¯m a brain in a life support casing, inside a cyborg body. I don¡¯t get nutrients from eating, but I still need to eat for psychological reasons.¡± ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡± That left Peter somewhat at a loss of words and they finished eating mostly in silence. ¡°Well Peter, it¡¯s been fun.¡± Melinda stood up. ¡°I have to go back to work, but let me know how your meeting with the robot goes.¡± Peter stood as well and started to walk with Melinda towards the exit, but she just disappeared. Right, virtual. He requested the bill and saw that it was already paid in full including a generous tip. As he exited the virtual water, he was notified that the VR overlays automatically disconnected. The host bowed slightly towards him, but didn¡¯t say anything. After a short walk and an elevator ride, Peter was back in his suite. As he sat on the couch, thinking back about all the social, economic and technological changes he experienced in his life, he drifted off to sleep. The auto-cab pulled into the pier¡¯s underground disembarking area at 01:43 and notified they had arrived at their destination. Peter paid for the trip and exited. The area looked very different at night, the lights making sharp contrasts between light and shadow from the support pillars and arches on the ceiling. The stairway was well lit, as was the elevator access. Other than the departing auto-cab, there were no other vehicles or anyone else in the underground parkade. Climbing up the stairs, he again saw the familiar view of the pier at night, with its soft illumination and silhouetted form amongst the slightly glowing waves. Peter immediately looked towards the building and vending machines, but didn¡¯t see any robots or dogs. Looking around the underground entrance, the restaurants and shops were closed, the security shutters down. Not seeing anything where he was, Peter headed for the Mexi Max vending machine. As he went around the building¡¯s corner, he saw again the three vending machines. ¡°Ese, you early. Buddy and Archie aren¡¯t here yet.¡± After a brief pause, the vending machine continued ¡°What¡¯s up with your hair? Did you sleep on it funny?¡± Peter reached up, and indeed, there was a strange couch shape to his hair. ¡°I, eh, kinda fell asleep on the couch and left when my reminder woke up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s all good ese, I¡¯m just, watcha ma call it, making conversation. You want to order something while you wait?¡± After a quick look at the menu Peter ordered ¡°I¡¯ll have a large coffee, black, no sugar and an order of churros.¡± ¡°Coming right up¡± Peter received a payment request, which he paid, while he watched the chef deep fry his churros and then generously sprinkle them with sugar and cinnamon. Then pour a large cup of coffee. When done, the chef placed it on the tray and put it down in the client chute, which opened and revealed his order, steaming hot and smelling of sweet cinnamon. Peter grabbed the tray and started eating and drinking. ¡°Thanks. That¡¯s pretty good!¡± ¡°Welcome ese, always here if you want another round. ¡± There was a sound of excited barks coming from the pier¡¯s entrance which both himself and the holographic chef appear to hear at the same time. ¡°That¡¯d be my friend, ese. Be nice, he¡¯s shy.¡± Peter saw a small dog and an angular man approaching, but his encephalon quickly flagged this as a robot and resized it. In the distance, it had looked like a man and a small dog, but it was in fact a robot over 3 meters tall and a large German Sheppard. As they approached, the dog must have smelled him because it went quiet and returned to the robot. ¡°It¡¯s ok Archie, that must be our curious friend you¡¯re smelling. The one Chef told us about.¡± At that, the dog seemed to relax and started walking again, but remained quiet as they approached. As the turned the building¡¯s corner and were now next to Peter and the vending machines, the holographic chef addressed the robot ¡°Here he is Buddy, that¡¯s the one I told you about.¡± The robot brought his right hand to his head which he inclined ¡°Greetings. I¡¯m Buddy and that¡¯s Archibald, or Archie for short.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Peter¡± was all he could say. Laughing, the chef said ¡°Ese¡¯s gotta be shy too!¡± turning towards the dog ¡°Archie, want some food? Who wants food?¡± Bark bark!! Was the excited answer as the chef started to cut up and cook some meats together. When the food was ready, a tray with two bowls came out, one with food, the other with water. The robot picked it up and placed it on the ground for the dog, which immediately started eating. After a few minutes of silence, the chef again broke the silence ¡°Look, you both wanted to meet, so, talk. Or do something. I¡¯m getting bored looking at a dog eat.¡± After hours of talking, they were interrupted by sunrise.