1: The doorknob monologue

"You know what I appreciate more as I get older? A good solid doorknob. Cool to the touch, reassuringly solid, nice smooth turning action and a satisfying clunk when it shuts. Now don't get me wrong, I used to appreciate your sliding automatic door, handy for when you've got bags or whatnot, but they've just got too darn clever for their own good these days.

"You know what happened to me the other day? Well, I was up town, had to go get my iris scan updated, nearly an hour they kept me waiting. Anyway. Where was I ? Oh yes, so I left the civic plaza, was gonna get an autocab back when I thought to myself, hey Jack, you're not up town that often these days, how about a look round? It was a lovely day, well, I guess everyday is lovely what with the atmos-conditioning and all, but you catch my drift, it was a nice day to be out. My hip wasn't playing up, the iris scan had unlocked my universal creds and I had some spare time.

"So I set off, stroll down past the hydrog-plant, you know, on the corner of fifth and Trump. You can cut through there under the hyperloop spur and over to the Tulip Plazas. That place is super fancy, I haven't even got my aug-specs on and can see the holo-pro's dancing in the sky. Imagine the power that's using up? They gotta have a direct feed from the solar farm. Must cost a pretty penny, let me tell you.

"Anyway, where was I? You're putting me off, looking at me like that. You ain't see such a handsome old fella before? Oh yes, door knobs. So I head to Tulip's meaning to see if Square Deal is still up on the third floor, they do some good stuff in the flash-sales if you catch em' right.

"So the Tulips have got these big fancy-pants revolving doors at the entrance, not there whenever it was I was last in town. It's got this retro sort of vibe though, few kids there looking at it kinda of nervous. Like they'd much rather be snuggled in their uplinks, maybe with daddy sending them over some creds for a couple of the synapse massages. Kids these days don't know what it's like to live in the real world. I fear for society you know. Eugh. Lost my thread again.

"Oh yeah, the door. So I step in bold as brass, show those prissy kids how we old timers do it, let the doors whisk me inside to the good stuff. Only they take me in so far then stop. I'm looking all round, like maybe I hit an emergency brake or somet. That happened to me down the hospital once you know, I'd lent against some kind of evac-sensor. Took some explaining that did, thought they were about to cart me off to the Wastes, way they were complaining about a simple mistake. Kids today got no respect you know.

"So there I am stuck in this revolving door, wonderin' what exactly I'm gonna do next. And this voice chimes out, sort of exasperated artificial sounding, like my omni-oven when I don't take out the carci-filter when it tells me to. Anyway, it says Hello Mr Tomlinson, thank you for your interest in the Tulips today. Then it pauses. I ain't sure whether I'm supposed to talk back or what, so I sort of shuffle a bit and mumble a hello. These darn proxy-AI's freak me out. It's not right them sneaking up on me like that. For all they know I could have a weak heart. Ok, so my heart is strong as a flippin' ox, the medical terminal practically said as much last week, but that ain't the point. What is the point again? Ah, yes, the door, surprising me like that. So it pipes up again, The Tulips are currently experiencing high demand as the Megatropolis' number one physical shopping destination. May we suggest that given your current fiscal and physical situation that you try our sister store, the Hydrangeas, available on the Transnet from the comfort of your own abode. Deals to be found for the cost conscious citizen. With current special offers on hip supports and iris drops to aid the recovery from your recent treatments.

"You think I'm exaggerating, right? Like I'm making it sound worse than it was? Well I can assure you I am not. Still got a great memory for what people, or things, say to me. Aced my last medical, the doc-bot about fell off its perch when it read my results. Ah, I'm diverging again. So where was I?

"Oh yeah, so I'm standing there just gobsmacked, and the door starts turning again. Only when it starts to overlap the entrance to the Tulips, it's blocked off by some kind of fancy ion field. I reach a hand out and my hair, what's left of it, stands on end. It's like touching fizzy glass, if you can imagine it. Geez. Talk about embarrassed, there I am turfed back outside with those darn kids sniggering right at me. Straight home I go, no wonder I don't step out much these days. Glad to see my own front door, I can tell you. Proper door knob on that, like I was saying till you put me off..."

"Jack, will you CLOSE THE DRAKKING DOOR YOU SENILE OLD COOT" the barked instruction caused Jack to jump and let go of the handle. The door banged shut. "You were letting a gale in" the grumpy voice continued.

"But it's nice out" Jack offered "A chill in the air, but...."

"I weren't talking about the weather, more your flapping jaw. Now you gonna order somet' or what?"

"Er, yeah, a coffee please" Jack shuffled over to the counter and pulled out a stool onto which he clambered stiffly, hip now aching after a day's hiking. He gingerly looked through the service hatch and into the small kitchen behind. "It been a long day then Dax?"

"You might say that" the voice, still unaccompanied by a physical form, returned from the dimly lit kitchen. There was some further clanking, then a muffled thump and some swearing.

With no further information offered, and Jack wary of further irritating the diner's owner, lest his coffee come at him airborne and at high velocity rather than in a mug, the old man instead busied himself looking around the small establishment.

It was quiet this time of the afternoon, just three other patrons. Truth be told, it was quiet most times these days. Jack wondered if that was part of the reason behind Dax's anger. Well, that and the fact he was always a grumpy sod. The low winter sun shone through the bank of small windows that lined the long wall of the diner. Dust motes glinted in the rays here and there. The diner was a former carriage from the high speed rail infrastructure that had been making way for the hyper loops in recent decades. The carriage sat forlornly between two massive plexi-con pillars that supported the autoroad that snaked hundreds of feet above them.

The lonely diner served an assortment of ground dwellers - those without the status or income to get off the lower levels of the Megatropolis - workers from the nearby industrial code factories that hadn't fully shifted to proxy-AI or those dependent on the city's meager UBI credits, what passed for social welfare in this bright new dawn for humankind (trademark).

Jack sighed. There was still no sign of his coffee and Dax had gone ominously quiet. One of the other customers got up an shuffled to the door, small chase-case following along behind like an attentive puppy. The remaining two customers both had their backs to Jack. One was slumped over her table, presumably sleeping off a bad scenario-run, the other two tables over nursing a steaming bowl of something or other. Jack thought about getting his aug-specs out, tap in to the Transnet, maybe check out that Hydrangea sale after all. But his eyes were still a bit sore from the scan. Minor ailments were taking much longer to clear up these days, despite the bravado he gave over his health. There were no screens in the diner to distract him with a sports-cast or news bulletin, everyone with their own personal feeds these days.

"Here you go" the voice startled Jack, and he swiveled around on his stool to face the looming presence of Dax behind the counter, coffee in hand.

"You...you shouldn't sneak up on me like that" Jack replied a little breathlessly "But thanks" he added as he picked up the mug to take a slurp. "Got things sorted back there" he nodded past Dax back towards the kitchen.

"Nearly" replied the big man, absentmindedly wiping a greasy covered hand on his apron. "Need to chase up some spares though". The iris of one of his eyes was rapidly changing colour as he scrolled through machine blue prints; the diner proprietor, like 99.96% of the Megatropolis, tapped in to the Transnet via a lens fused to his cornea. Jack grimaced slightly, one of the 0.04% that couldn't stomach the thought of the procedure and so far successful in avoiding the city wide statute that all citizens be hardwired for Transnet access rather than through the old-tech aug-specs. Building a modern and inclusive society one link at a time (trademark).

"It the pulse oven again?" Jack asked

"Nah, got that sorted. This time it's the fridges. Can't get them to sync properly with the stock system" Dax's eye returned to its usual shade of muddy green as he looked down to focus on Jack. "I reckon it somet' to do with the survey-drone that's been buzzing round here lately. Some of their monitoring tech plays havoc with local dumb-systems"

"Survey drone? Civic Centrale looking to redevelop round here again?" Jack wrinkled his nose, been a lot of his favourite haunts lost to the march of city improvements in recent years.

Dax shook his head "Nope, it had Cit-Pro markings" he lent down conspiratorially and whispered "Reckon they're after that guy with the soup" he nodded to the patron behind Jack "He's been here all day, looking sorta nervous"

"Cit-Pro, wow" Jack started to turn to look at the suspect, but Dax put a large hand on his arm to stop him.

"Not so obvious Jack. Geez, you'd be a useless Cit-Pro agent"

Jack harumphed "In my day when the Citizen-Protectorate actually recruited humans for fieldwork, they were all over my graduation scores. Top 5% in the cohort, I'll have you know"

"In your day they calculated the scores on an abacus"

"In my day we also had a bit of respect for our elders"

"SLAG IT!" Dax's exclamation came suddenly and Jack almost fell off his stool in alarm. What had he done now to upset the volatile proprietor?

"Er?" Jack ventured

"I've just been tapped out"

"What?"

"Of the Transnet, my connection's gone. You too?"

"I don't, er, know"

"Of course, you're a drakking caveman" Dax stormed off, came out from behind the counter and went over to the guy with the soup. "You still tapped in mate?" he asked gruffly.

"No sir" the man said turning to look up at Dax. He was relatively young, maybe 20 or so, with uneven stubble scatter over a pockmarked face. "Just went down, got no system errors either"

Dax didn't reply, just slumped slightly - Jack couldn't tell if it was in relief or annoyance - then the proprietor went back behind the counter.

"So what's going on then?" asked Jack tentatively

"No idea. Least it's not my implants playing up, my warranty ran out last month"

"Phew" Jack sarcastically pretended to mop sweat from his brow

"But if it's a wider problem, who know's what's going on. Not like the Transnet to go down," his eyes widened "unless it's being jammed". Dax turned and hurried back to the seating area, this time to a window where he peered out, squinting against the light.

"Jammed? Really Dax?"Jack had swung back round on his stool, giving the big man an appraising look. "Sounds like a cheesy plot from a bad immersion flick"

"Woah" Dax's mouth hung open

"What is it? Drone invasion? Crack in the Dome Shell?"

"Company"

"Well this place could do with a new face or two"

"Not that sort of..." Drax was cut off by a deep rumbling horn, fixtures of the diner rattling, yet more dust joining its cousins in the sunlight. Sunlight that was suddenly drowned out by spot lights blazing through the windows, causing Dax to raise his hands to his face and stoop down out of the view of the window.

"What the...?" Jack began. At the same time the entrance door exploded inwards, the knob of Jack's earlier monologue erupting across the width of the diner and crashing a small hole through the opposite wall. Three of the small windows shattered half a second later, including the one Dax had been peering through, shards of glass raining down on the now sprawling diner owner. Similar thudding explosions echoed from the back of the diner, in the kitchen. All exits covered. Jack gulped, still sat, stunned, on the stool as fragments of glass and splinters of wood settled on the floor around him.

For a few seconds there was silence, spotlights probing through the wreckage, the man who had been slowly sipping soup now illuminated in both startling white light, and well, soup. Small fragments of bowl scattered around him.

Then. A voice.

"CITIZENS, STAY WHERE YOU ARE. THIS IS A MEGATROPLOLIS CENTRAL CONTROL SANCTIONED OPERATION BY THE CITIZEN-PROTECTORATE, SECOND QUADRANT EAST, LEVELS 1 TO 5. YOU ARE ALL NOW UNDER OUR JURISDICTION UNTIL FORMALLY E-COMMED WITH OUR RELEASE PERMISSIONS. STAY STILL, WITH YOUR IMPLANTS REMAINING OFF LINE. FAILURE TO COMPLY RISKS LETHAL CONSEQUENCES. I REPEAT..."

As the automated voice repeated its instructions Jack felt his bladder weakening. Dammit he thought as a soggy warmth expanded down his trouser leg. Bloody stupid old coot he reprimanded himself no better than a wet behind the ear toddler. He blinked, eyes stinging from the spotlight poised over the soup guy in front of him. A hand instinctively began to raise to shield his view, then stopped, machine barked instructions remembered as they were completed for a second time from outside the diner.

"...RISKS LETHAL CONSEQUENCES." A few seconds silence once again. Then movement, first at the door then the windows. Looming out of the smoke and dust at the doorway shuffled an unnatural looking shape. It was like the snow plow from and old-world train had sprouted stubby legs to give it momentum away from the tracks. The plow like drone pushed forward a couple of metres into the diner then stopped. Sensors and and armaments sprouted on articulated arms from behind the armoured plow. Targeting lasers searched the room like eager sniffer dogs. A breaching unit, a distant recognition echoed through Jack's mind.

Through the windows hummed more agile looking contraptions, ion pulse engines glimmered blue as they hovered through the now jagged openings. One of them took up a position at the opposite end of the carriage to the plow while the other glided over the head of the soup patron. As with the plow, tracking lasers flashed about the diner from its latest occupants.

Another noise from behind Jack made the old man turn instinctively towards the kitchen where a third hovering drone was poised at the service hatch, weaponry bristling, at least to Jack's over active mind. YOU ARE REMINDED TO STAY STILL the drone instructed from a hidden speaker, Jack froze in compliance.

Another beat or two of silence. Then a sound. Footfalls crunching on broken glass. A form was then in silhouette from the spotlights sprouting from the plow drone. It was human in shape, jarring against the angles of the imposing drone behind. He or she came to a halt in the centre of the diner, the shape of a trilby hat on their head now visible in the bright light, causing Jack to frown at the old world styling.

"Thomas Willington" it said, crisp voice cutting through the dust and debris filled room. Jack looked over to the soup-man, he sure was in trouble given the Cit-Pro force here tonight. A small part of is mind wondered if Dax's insurance would cover this all. Hopefully it hadn't lapsed along with his lens warranty. "Thomas Willington" the Cit-Pro agent repeated. The soup-man stayed stock still. Jack almost felt sorry for him.

Then. A long forgotten memory.

"Ah, oh" Jack sighed. The agent approached him.

"Thomas Willington" a third time

"That is, er, that's a name I haven't heard in a long time" Jack replied.

Well, technically, Thomas replied.