Jack was used to the metaphorical gorilla standing on the door of a popular night spot. Heck, Jack had spent more than the occasional time either being a doorman himself to earn a few creds or, even more frequently, being thrown out by one. However, a literal gorilla was an unexpected sight. And a neon pink one at that with, as Jack's eyes finished adjusting to the harsh light of the reception room, a wide green streak across its torso and face.
"Welcome to The Synapse Slap"said the gorilla "Most intense immersion this side of the vibe-tanks"
"I'm, er, looking for someone" Jack couldn't help but stare at the beast in front of him. In form it was identical to the beasts of the e-docs he'd seen as a kid. It's current stance, leaning forward on knuckles as big as Jack's head, was also like the real thing. But this one was talking. And pink. Some kind of automaton, a fancy drone, the sort of quirk Robert would be excited by.
"Past present or maybe even future, we offer scenario meetings with the most comprehensive list of significant people. We can also arrange more personal and intense meetings with the man or woman of your dreams"
"Not that sort of meeting"
The gorilla frowned a little, almost as if in judgement. "We can also arrange scenarios of a less conventional nature"
"What? Eww, no. I need a real meeting, with the owner. Or ex owner. I'm not sure"
"This is a fully automated business, sir. Please direct any feedback to me and I will relay it as appropriate" the gorilla stood up and folded its two meaty arms in an oddly humanistic stance exuding eroding patience.
"This is important"
"All of our customer's wishes are important, sir" this last word was said with the hint of a snarl "But I am unable to process this particular request"
"Robert, his name is, was, Robert"
The gorilla slowly blinked, then "I know no-one of that name. If you do not intend to purchase our services then I would ask you to leave" the tone was flat, but the menace was apparent. Behind Jack, the door opened back up.
Jack's shoulders slumped "ok" he muttered. Something wasn't right here -- pink talking gorilla aside -- but he couldn't put his finger quite on it. Nor could he identify a way past the gorilla and into the main part of the CHub to look for Robert. He was hardly likely to go toe to toe against the beast, and he had no means, or ability for that matter, to execute an electronic infiltration. Defeated, he stepped back out into the dim pathway.
The gorilla moved across the white room to the doorway behind Jack, "One more thing" it said.
Jack turned to face it "Yes?"
"Nice hat"
With that, the door swished back closed, leaving Jack in the darkness, eyes once again slow to adjust. He stood there for a few seconds, still trying to figure out what had just happened. Unsuccessful in his pondering, he slowly wandered back down the path and onto the main strip of bars and restaurants.
"Hey! Mr?" the voice came from behind Jack. To start with the calls didn't register, lost as Jack was in his own thoughts of a mission failed. "MR?" this time more insistent. Jack turned around. He was great by the sight of a tatty looking kid, maybe 20 years old, gaunt looking, haunted eyes. But also sort of familiar.
"Do I know you, kid?" Jack was brusque, irritated with his fruitless search.
"You were just in the CHub, right?" the kid came to stand a couple of metres in front of Jack.
"What's it to you?" Jack was expecting a shake down, the kid looked like a scenario junky.
"Mr Pinko said you'd been asking after some guy called Robert"
"Mr Pinko?"
"Our doorman"
"The gorillia. Is called. Mr Pinko?" Jack was incredulous, his tone causing the kid to look down sheepishly.
"That's what I called him as a kid. Name kinda stuck" he said meekly.
"What exactly is it, er he?"
"Mr Pinko? He's a fully automated gorilla replica. My dad picked him up when the zoo over in Tower 1 went bankrupt. Upgraded him to incorporate a custom proxy-AI"
"Why is he pink?"
"My favourite colour as a kid" the meek tone was back
Jack shook his head, mind back on the task at hand. "So your dad, he was called Robert?" maybe his search wasn't to end in failure after all.
"No"
"Oh" Jack sighed
"At least not as I knew"
This utterance perked Jack up, he lent forward and put his hands on the kid's shoulders, who responded by retreating slightly "Go on" Jack urged.
"He, er , my dad, he disappeared a couple of weeks ago. Was supposed to be going to a meeting at his offices up on the 58th floor but never came back."
Jack frowned "Has he been in any trouble recently?"
"Nope" the kid replied "We get the usual sort of scenario addicts causing a ruckus from time to time, but Mr Pinko deals with that. No one would know to blame dad"
"So what do you think happened"
"Dunno" the kid looked down "I tried to do some digging, you know, on the down low - I know my way round some Transnet exploits. Comes with the territory running scenarios back at the CHub."
"And?"
"Couldn't find any record of his disappearance, despite lodging it with Cit-Pro twice. Then I got to digging through some name records at the Civic Centrale birth registry."
"Go on" although Jack suspected he knew what was coming.
"His birth name was Robert. Changed it to Panthros about six months before I was born"
"Panthros?!"
"Uh-huh"
"What a flippin' berk" Jack let go of the kid and put his hands to his face. But even hearing what a stupid name his friend had taken on couldn't shift a growing sense of concern. Putting his hands back down by his sides, Jack looked back at the kid, who's eyes were moist "You alright kid?"
"It's just...just I thought you might have had word about dad. Not coming here to call him a berk, whatever that means"
"Look kid" Jack shook his head in exasperation "Can't keep calling you kid, what's ya name?"
"Thomas"
Jack's face dropped. Had they really named their kid after him?
"You ok Mr?" Thomas picked up on Jack's change in emotion.
"Sure kid, sure. Look, we need to talk. There a decent bar round here? You could maybe shout an old man a drink or two?"
"Er, yeah, how 'bout McCree's?" Thomas nodded down the street.
"So how'd you know my dad?" asked Thomas. The two of them had taken a booth towards the back of the bar. To Jack it was a fairly non-descript establishment, but he suspected that it was more engaging for Thomas who's iris' periodically pulsed odd colours. Jack sipped another whisky, while a drone delivered Thomas a tall glass containing a mint green concoction that caused him to grimace when he sipped from it.
"Way back. We ran together outside the Towers, getting up to a bit of mischief. Till we met your mum. Then we got up to a lot of mischief"
"You knew mum?!" Thomas's eyes flashed wide open
Jack took a sip of whisky, inwardly cursing himself for not remembering the history "Yeah, before she left the Megatropolis"
"Dad always said she had no option but to leave. But how could she leave a baby behind?" Thomas almost pleaded, while Jack continued to kick himself for bringing her up.
"It was a bad time kid, a lot of stuff going down. I wasn't around when she had to get out"
"A bad time? It got something to do with dad going missing now? And you turning up?"
"I think so"
Both of them paused to take another sip of their respective drinks, both also grimacing. Thomas because his drink stang his throat, Jack because he was starting to regret talking to the kid. Too many painful memories coming back to the surface.
Jack drained his drink, and through the bottom of his glass saw a blurry shape headed towards him. At first he assume it was the service drone with the offer of another drink. Say what you want about the Towers, but they know how to look after you. Jack's distaste for all things drone eroded by a decent whisky in the same way a sandcastle is eroded by the sea.
But it wasn't a drone approaching as became clear as Jack lowered his glass, the shape resolved into a person, and the person spoke. "Ere, ain't you from the CHub?" this was directed to Thomas who turned from his own glass to the interloper.
"I...er"
"Yeah, yeah, I recognise ya. You're there a lot, like the manager or somet" the man swayed slightly as he said this, iris's cycling a dizzy array of colours. Jack frowned, then recogntion flared; it was one of the men he passed on the way to the CHub on the dim pathway.
"We're kinda busy at the minute" Jack spoke, in no mood for having some scenario freak making things anymore difficult than they already were.
"Drakk you grandad, I ain't talkin' to you, I'm talkin' to 'im" a wobbling arm reached out to point at Thomas who sat back into his seat a little further. "My mate got messed up by your utra-scenario. I want recom....recon...recompen....I want my money back" he slurred.
"No refunds" Thomas almost squeaked. Jack frowned, he never remembered Robert being so timid. Kids today, pussies the lot of them.
"That ain't good enough. Your scenario drakked him up real bad. He ain't wanted another hit all night"
"You were warned the scenario was intense. Not available on the Transnet, and we have to draw heavy on the power grid to run it. That costs" Thomas appeared more confident when talking about technology.
"I don't give a drakk. I want my money back" the man lent on their table, knuckles resting on the plexi-wood, teeth bared in a snarl. It was a position meant to exude strength and intimidation. But Jack had spent much of his life seeing drunk, or scenario-spaced posturing. He sighed, adjusted his sitting position slightly and tugged his hat on a little lower.
The angry man lent a little further over the table to get his head closer to the cowering Thomas. Jack moved quickly, well quickly for him. Flashing his arm across the top of the table he swept the man's arm's from under him. No longer supporting his body, the man crashed down face first into the table.
"Ommfff" the man said. Jack was up on his feet, grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and dragged him off the table. In his younger days the man would have been thrown into, or maybe even over , the bar a couple of metres opposite their table, ending the confrontation there and then. But aged muscles only succeeded in throwing the man down onto the floor.
"Piss off" Jack barked at the man.
"Drakk you" the man rolled onto his front, climbed unsteadily up a stool, then charged Jack. The two quickly locked into a messy looking tussle. The scenario-spaced man attempting uncoordinated jabs at Jack's face, the old man awkwardly trying to lean back so his hat didn't get knocked off. Sophisticated one-on-one combat it was not. Other patrons looked on in a mix of surprise and pity.
A strength differential soon saw Jack pushed up against the far wall. Again, this wasn't an unfamiliar situation to him, but where as normally he'd have broken out a big hitting headbutt--something of a specialty from his younger days--the wide brim of the hat made this impossible. A knee to the groin, or stamp to the metatarsal were two other brawler's favorites, but he couldn't quite adjust right in between fighting off the strikes of the man attacking him.
While the man was younger, faster and stronger than Jack, he was also unsteady on his feat and uncoordinated in his attacks. Jack defended as best he could, looking for a gap to counter in. But he was also getting more desperate, breathing more ragged, heart rate more alarming. Half a gap was spotted and Jack went for it, aiming what he initially intended as a devastating left uppercut, but ended up being a sort of closed hand slap on the man's cheek.
The man went down, out cold.
"You...messed....with the...wrong...guy" Jack panted, bending double to try and catch his breath.
"Are you ok sir?" Thomas was at his side, leading him over to a chair that Jack gratefully slumped down on. "Sorry, I just, I just froze" Thomas continued "But I think the bar called Cit-Pro"
"What?" Jack asked between ragged breaths. Then he looked up. A Cit-Pro hover drone hung in the air above the unconscious form of Jack's opponent.
"It zapped the guy. Just in time to, I thought he was going to kill you"
"First...kid....I had him exactly....where I....wanted him. Second....zapped?"
"Yeah, you know, pulse charge to the spine, instant paralysis. That guy's gonna wake with a hell of a headache. Cit-Pro probably going to want to talk to you though. Want me to call a lawyer? Bar cameras will have you starting the fight, but I reckon you could plea provocation"
"Cit-Pro? Shit. I can't....talk to them. Can we....get out?" As if to answer that to the negative, three more drones pushed through the crowd that had gathered. One was another hover drone, on crowd control, tinny speaker urging the people back and out the bar. Meanwhile a squat wheeled drone with a bright red cross emblazoned on the side moved over to the prone form. A range of articulated arms sprang out and started attending to his medical needs.
The third new drone to enter was an RA. "I want to speak to witnesses" it said calmly to no one in particular.
"Should I go explain?" Thomas whispered to Jack
"Sit tight kid" Jack replied, desperately attempting to think of a way out of yet another mess of his connivance.
"You" the RA spoke, Jack looked up in alarm, then a modicum of relief breaking over him as he saw the RA was talking to Thomas rather than him. But that relief soon turned back to alarm as he wondered what the dumb kid was going to say.
"Yes, er, officer" was Thomas' initial gambit.
"What did this man want?" he indicated the prone form. "Monitoring systems show him leaning over your table in a posture tagged as consistent with emotion 14c, aggression-intimidation" the RA had moved to stand over Thomas. Jack just sank lower, waiting for the RA's hand to grab him. There was surely no way that even this fancy hat could get him out of being an accessory to a crime.
"He, er, he was unhappy about a scenario his friend ran at my father's CHub" Thomas explained
"Location of this contact hub?"
"It's the, er, Synapse Slap. This floor, over behind the boulevard"
The RA paused for a second "Owner of which is one Mr Panthros H Thorne"
Thomas slowly nodded. The RA paused, shifting its featureless head as if attempting to sniff something out. Jack's heart, still elevated after the scuffle, quickened its pace again.
"And you are Mr Thorne junior" the RA said this as a matter of fact rather than a question, Jack presumed that this had already bean established electronically. "So this man..." a gesture towards the figure on the floor, which the medical drone had now turned onto his side in order to check airways "...threatened you over a disputed scenario at your father's CHub, then proceeded to exert palpitations that were consistent with a hard scenario-come down"
Thomas' eyes went wide, then he quickly shifted his gaze down lest the RA catch his surprise. Jack, meanwhile, wasn't totally sure what was going on.
"That ain't what happened!" this shout came from the other side of the bar, a impatient looking short man fidgeting under the electronic gaze of a hover drone "That old duffer attacked him" he angrily pointed at Jack. The RA looked over to the short man, then back to the seat Jack was slumped in.
"Do you know this man?" the question hung for a second, Jack thinking the game was up. However, the RA wasn't talking to him, its attention was back on Thomas.
"Er, no, well, yes, sort of. He was also at the Synapse, with the guy here" a point at the floor.
The RA did its odd head shift again, before speaking "Judgement reached. Local dispute, suspect attempts to obtain money by intimidation before suffering from a scenario related seizure. Witness 1 statement tallies with electronic surveillance. Alternative statement from Witness 2 adjudged to be false given lack of supporting evidence. Suspect to recover in Citizen Protectorate health monitoring station before move to holding pens.Interment two days and formal addendum to his personal conduct records. Case closed" And with that, the RA turned and left the bar, crowd parting as he strode away.
"WHAT? WAIT? THAT WASN'T WHAT HAPPENED" the short man yelled behind him, attempting to follow until the hover drone dropped in front of him, weaponry armed.
Jack and Thomas just sat in silence. Both watched the hover drones disperse the crowds, including the arrested man's friends. Meanwhile the medic drone finished its business and was replaced by an automated gurney which scooped the still unconscious man up and carted him away. Cleaning drones then shuffled around the floor, wiping up spills and correcting knocked aside furniture. Within 10 minutes it was like the fight had never happened.
"They couldn't see you" Thomas whispered as the last cleaning drone scooted away.
"Uh-huh" Jack reached up and touched the brim of his hat "Got something to do with this"
"What, the hat?"
Jack nodded, then replied "Your old man gave it to me"
"And drones can't see you when it's on your head?" Thomas' confusion was starting to resolve itself, the technical wizardry part of his mind racing with possibilities. But then the frown returned, "One thing doesn't make sense though"
"Believe me kid, most of this doesn't make sense to me"
Thomas ignored Jack exasperation and finished his chain of thought, "If drone's can't see you, then how come Mr Pinko could?"
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