Ghost in the Machine Ch. 08

"Whazzup," he croaked, then he cleared his throat, pulling a tartan bathrobe around himself.

"This young man is a friend of Shine's. The young lady suspects he might... be watched," Frau Schmidt said, grinning like a shark.

"Watched," both Fleischer and I echoed.

"He's a corp boy. Shake him down, see what ya can dig up. I'm grabbing a bite to eat. An hour?"

"Uhhh, ja, ja. Whatever," the guy called "Fleischer" grumbled.

He mentioned for me to follow, so I climbed up the steps into his RV. The first thing catching my eye, and causing no small bit of trepidation, was the polished but notched operating table in the center of a tiled segment of floor, clear plastic drapes framing the area.

I heard the hiss of a high-pressure hypo and, a moment later, Fleischer appeared again, a tablet PC in one hand. The other ended in a metal loop, not unlike a metal detector.

"Alrighty, this should only take a moment. Do you have any implants, mein Herr," he asked.

"Yeah, of course," I replied, not quite sure where we were heading.

I rattled off the short list of implants I had. Mindlink implant with two TB linked storage, a clock that could project the date and time into my field of view and of course the contraceptive implant my mother urged me to have installed. Well, after my high-school sweetheart got pregnant during our senior year, I was all too happy to do that. Especially once it turned out that she wanted the baby so she and her parents could sue for support.

Everything bought and paid for by my parents, of course.

"Gut. And now we'll find out if there's any nasty surprises," Fleischer grinned, somehow much more awake than earlier. He had me shed my clothes and passed the scanner, at least I hoped it was a scanner, jutting from his right sleeve, over my body, murmuring "Ja, ja, Gut" in the process. The system pinged multiple times, near my crotch and head. And my left wrist.

"Did you forget to mention anything else," Fleischer asked, consulting the readout on his tablet.

"No, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm packin'," I said as calmly as possible. He moved the scanner along my other arm then back to the left wrist. Obediently, the system pinged again.

"Alright, time for a quick X-ray then," Fleischer said.

I nodded. I didn't remember any implants in my left wrist and I have had my share of implant examinations behind me, not the least when I applied for the college's sports team. They were very "no-tech" there and I had to fight tooth and nail for them to accept that my implants didn't give me any unfair advantage versus a non-chipped player.

Fleischer had produced a portable X-ray unit. Next he handed me a heavy lead apron which I gladly accepted. The last thing I needed was cancer from a chop shop's X-ray machine. A few moments later, we could see the results. My wrist bones were clearly visible as was a tubular foreign object neatly tucked away between radius and ulna.

"Okay, doc, what the fuck is that," I asked, unease balling up my stomach.

"Well, lucky for you it's not a cortex bomb," he chuckled.

"No?"

"No, that would sit here," he said, his finger stabbing at the base of my skull. The doctor had wrist mounts, I realized. While we waited for the X-rays to develop, he switched out the scanner for a "normal" hand which he flexed impatiently while thinking about the image on screen.

"I think you've been tagged with a Shepherd chip, my friend," he mused.

"Shepherd chip?"

"Is there an echo in here? You're a corp child and don't know about that," he asked me, incredulously.

"Never heard of it," I snapped.

"Oh, it's a nifty little gadget," Fleischer said, obviously warming up to the subject. And by that, I mean going from zombie to enthusiastic in under three seconds. "You can do all kinds of neat things with it. First, it's a shiny GPS beacon, transmitting your position like a bonfire. And then it can store all kinds of information; your name, your medical data, even who to contact if you should be abducted or so." He looked at me, obviously noting for the first time my growing horror.

"It's standard procedure for high-up corp people to get chipped, so the corp doesn't lose them," he continued, less euphoric.

"Yeah, I feel all secure now. Like a fucking housecat or what," I growled.

"Yes, pretty much. Going by your reaction, you didn't know," Fleischer asked.

"I already told you, doc. No fucking clue. And now the tricky question. Can you disable it?"

"Ah, bright lad. Of course I can. It only takes the precise application of a high enough voltage to grill that thing. Sadly, the amount of voltage used would roast your arm as well, I'm afraid. If you're not in a hurry, I can remove it though."

"Sure, go ahead. I don't want that thing in me," I snarled. One more betrayal. Thanks, Dad. What else didn't you tell me?

"Splendid! Let's get cracking, then," Fleischer smiled, rubbing his hands together.

Ewww, he was FAR too enthusiastic for my liking.

A few moments later I was on the slab, my arm securely affixed by both an elbow and wrist brace, keeping me from even twitching that limb. Fleischer said local anesthetic would be enough, so he pumped my arm full of narcotics, paralyzing and dulling it until I didn't feel anything when he pinched me. He vanished from my vision and returned a few moments later, fully schmocked-up. In full view, he removed his right hand and replaced it with a whirring mess of appendages, needles, blades, pincers, what have you. My stomach churned as he bent over my arm, humming softly to himself.

"No need to be afraid, really. I can do this with my eyes closed," Fleischer said conversationally while his hand went to town on my wrist. It was eerie, watching him cut up my flesh, the blood flowing freely as he lowered the pincers into my wrist. I felt a yanking sensation inside, then a slender blade, more like a wire, slipped into the cavity where the pincers were and a moment later he retracted his instruments, letting a hard something click into a dish near my hip.

"See, that wasn't that bad, was it," Fleischer said, using his normal hand to apply some kind of foul-smelling gel to my wrist. The bleeding stopped almost immediately.

"And what the heck was that," I groaned, wrinkling my face in disgust.

"Sprayflesh. Seals the wound and has regenerative qualities. In a matter of hours you won't realize you've ever been opened up. Very useful stuff, that," Fleischer said, turning away from me. I saw him placing his work hand into some kind of receptacle before he returned to me and wrapped my wrist in a bandage, his motions fluid and easy.

"Anything I should or should not do," I asked him.

"Try not to peel at the edges, at least not until it's merged with your original flesh. Otherwise you'll open up a whole can of worms. Other than that? No. The stuff is mildly adhesive so it can even survive a shower or two, provided you don't use the massage blast right at that spot. But I figure you're a smart man and want to avoid all the nasty infections out there, right," he teased me.

"Yeah, doc, I'll behave. And besides, all the crap you pumped into me makes this feel like it's someone else's arm anyway. No baseball for the foreseeable future," I chuckled. Knowing that the chip was gone, I dared a sigh of relief.

"Your choice. I can give you an antidote, if you need that hand. But the wound will hurt like hell until healed."

"I don't think I'll need that hand that badly," I said, reaching for my clothes. Then it struck me. "Or maybe I do," I said, cursing under my breath. Ever tried dressing yourself one-handed? Yeah, right.

Fleischer fired another dose of crap into my bloodstream. At first it was barely perceptable but soon the pain came. And it was glorious. After all these days, when I felt like I was living through a gauze curtain, the pain sliced into my brain like a crystal scalpel, kicking me awake. It was only a sharp-edged throbbing in my wrist but damn, it made me feel alive. I quickly climbed into my clothes.

"What shall I do with this little mother," Fleischer asked, handing me a small, metallic disc, about the size of a small button-cell battery, now cleaned of my blood.

"Does it still work," I asked.

"Sure. This thing is totally self-contained, the microcell in it should last a good forty years. The only thing holding it in place were two nanofiber connections which I had to clip through. But the chip itself will work, even outside the body-"

I took it and stored it in my jacket. I had an idea.

"Mind if I keep this as a souvenir?"

"Nah, I don't want the corp cops kicking down my door anyway."

***

Two hours later I had everything I needed. The deck in my briefcase was a cheap Russian knockoff of a Korean imitation of one of Mindlink's recent military decks and, even though it was a knockoff, it cost me nearly two million bucks. The dealer, a grizzled Russian with a square, greying flat-top, promised me the latest in black programs. A quick tour of the system told me that most of the software was at least two years old but serviceable. Grudgingly, I paid up and rejoined Frau Schmidt who elected to wait outside. She was amicably chatting with the bulky guards the dealer employed and I noticed how deferential they treated her, as if she were some kind of celebrity.

"All done," she asked, not unkindly. Before I could answer, my stomach gave a savage growl. I realized I haven't eaten since leaving Boston which was quite a while back.

"Almost," I replied.

"I'm sure Shine has food for you. I didn't plan on babysitting you all night, you know," Frau Schmidt snapped. "Let's go already!"

"I think I'd like to see this 'Arach' person one more time, if you don't mind," I said, blushing. The bulky Russians laughed dirty and threw nasty gestures my way but Frau Schmidt just nodded.

"Sure, but make it quick. And no, I won't tell Shine about it," she added with a sly wink that made me blush even harder.

A few moments later Arach was writhing against me.

"What can I do for you, handsome," (s)he purred.

"Want to make some cash, quickly," I asked, writhing myself but only to keep Arach's fingers away from the fly of my pants. This was much more irritating than the thumping pain pulsing in my wrist.

"No need to be ashamed, I have all night... and I work damn cheap," Arach purred into my ear, letting his/her hands drop on my behind, kneading my butt cheeks.

"It's not what you think," I rasped, the conflicting signals making it hard to concentrate. Arach's upper torso was well-endowed, a generous double handful of firm flesh rubbing through my thin jacket, his/her face was very feminine, with kissable lips and burning amber eyes, the voice was sultry, husky, melodious without any hint of "male," but the dick insistently pressing into me was turning it strange. Sure, being the J-culture freak that I am, I knew about futa and all but being hit on by one was... weird.

"Oh, admit it, you're burning in longing for these," (s)he purred, pulling up the cloth covering those hot tits, "and this too." Again, the dick bumped into me.

"Can we talk business," I implored impatiently.

"Oh, I am, honey, I am. No holes barred, you know? Wherever you want me, sugar."

"Okay, listen," I snapped, grabbing his/her wrists. Shocked into silence, Arach looked at me. "I want you to find a person you hate and plant this on him, okay?" I pulled the Shepherd from my pocket. Arach pouted at me.

"I really would have treated you well, you know? Even with a discount and all..." (s)he teased.

I rifled through the cash I had on hand. Thankfully, I could buy the deck via cred card but I had withdrawn a couple grand in cash, for just such emergencies. Counting off five hundred Euros, I looked into Arach's eyes.

"Will you do it?"

"For that kinda cash? Everything you want, honey." Arach beamed. Fiddling on the inside of her breast cover, she produced a bent business card. "And here's my number, if you want that ride after all," (s)he murmured, nibbling on my ear again.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," I said, dropping the chip into Arach's palm and closing his/her fingers around it. "I guess the lucky winner will find all kinds of trouble shortly," I snickered. Arach's grin became mean. "No problem, I know just the right guy." Then (s)he leaned in, wrapped the chip-free arm around my neck and pulled me into a scorching kiss. I was much too surprised to offer much in the way of resistance and damn, Arach could kiss.

When our lips seperated, I was breathless and Arach beamed at me.

"Now you know what you're missing... have a nice night, sugar," (s)he purred and sashayed away, occasionally winking over his/her shoulder.

Frau Schmidt snickered.

"All done?" she asked, a wicked grin on her face.

"All done. Get me the hell outta here, please."

***

Thinking was difficult. Analyzing how much damage Mindlink did was difficult too. Cat had taken the almost infinite processing power derived from her network for granted, adding more and more functionality, more and more subsystems into her consciousness, most of which had been badly damaged or stripped away entirely.

Cat knew that she had underestimated Mindlink. They acted faster and hit harder than anticipated and the lack of a fortified home system hurt as well. Worst of all, the files scavenged from the neuro clinic were badly fragemented, barely useable. Wide swaths of data were shot through with virulent code, making it unsafe to even browse them. And even worse, Mindlink's data probes were scouring the 'Net for more data on Cat. Thankfully, there were few traces of her Cat persona and almost none of her awakening. Cat debated if it was wise to contact Shine but, with all the attention focusing on her, she knew that sending an open mail would only draw attention towards Shine, something she wanted to avoid at all costs. Withdrawing even deeper into the dark recesses of the 'Net, hiding amidst old newsgroups servers that clung to their existence only because no one bothered to shut them down, Cat watched and waited.

***

Remember the online dating analogy? Yeah, awkwardness in full effect. Shine wasn't what I expected. She was bald, for starters. No eyebrows, nothing. Her eyes, steely grey cyberoptics, looked impassively at me, contrasting weirdly with the warm smile she sent my way. And completely opposed to her online persona, she was far from curvy. Not starved, but no curvaceous angel either. I grinned sheepishly.

"Not what you expected, huh," she asked, offering a seat on an old-style sofa.

I flopped down.

"Well, your avatar looks different," I conceded.

"At least I can't complain. You're quite good-looking, even in the flesh," Shine chuckled, rummaging in the kitchen. A moment later, the microwave fired up and she melted down next to me on the sofa. "I thought you were younger, though," she added, grinning.

"Hey, twenty-three isn't exactly ancient, you know," I retorted, still trying to reconcile this slip of a girl with the hot chrome angel I virtually fucked a few days ago.

"I know but you came across like an animé nerd, not some yuppie broker," she chuckled, patting my leg to take the sting out of her remark.

"Hey, I've tried to dress casually," I complained, spreading my arms wide. Jeans, a simple tee, suit jacket. What's wrong with that? Far removed from the usual, double-breasted stuff I wore on campus.

"Now you're in the underworld, not a boardroom," Shine grinned. Then the microwave pinged, announcing that my food was ready. Shine and I hopped off the couch, stopped, chuckled at each other.

"Sit down. You've been running around enough for today," Shine said, motioning for me to flop down again. I shrugged and did as requested. A moment later she was back, producing a plate with microwave pizza.

"Sorry, not what you're used to, I guess," she apologized.

"At least there's no tuna on it. I hate tuna with a passion," I smirked, digging in. It was warm and didn't taste like cardboard so I was happy. Shine watched me wolf it down.

"More," she inquired when I handed her the plate.

"Thanks, that should do for the moment," I said, smiling thankfully at her. She plunked the plate down onto the table and cuddled up against me.

"Now what," I asked, a slightly? taken aback at her sudden intimacy.

"It has been ages since someone held me, Parker. Do you mind," Shine murmured against my chest.

Well, here I was, a long way from home myself. I snaked an arm around her slim shoulders and hugged her close to me. And strangely, it felt... good. Shine sighed contentedly against me. For a few minutes, all was quiet, apart from the occasional rustling when one of us caressed the other through their clothing.

"So, tell me. What's the thing with you and Cat," I wanted to know, eventually. "And who's that Cat anyway?"

"That's a damn long story, Parker," Shine said in her adorable German accent. "And I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to spill all of it, yet," she added, her slender hand slipping under my tee, her fingertips caressing along my spine.

"Too bad, I'm really curious. My life hasn't been the same since I've met her," I said, arching my back against her hand. The simple touch was a nice gesture. I knew it was meant to tease but apart from the warmth of her palm I hardly felt anything.

"What I can say is this: She saved my bony ass and helped me find out the truth about my parents. We've been friends and... playmates ever since," Shine chuckled, writhing against me.

"The thought of having sex with her turns you on, eh," I asked, softly nudging her. To my surprise, Shine swung herself onto my thighs and melted against me, nibbling at the soft of my neck.

"I was thinking about how we met, Parker," Shine purred, raising her gaze, a sensuous smile playing around her lips but not quite reaching her eyes. She ground her hips against me. When I didn't react, she picked up my hands and placed them on her small breasts, leaning into me for added emphasis.

"Hey, no need to play dead fish. I know you liked fucking me," she murmured, leaning in for a kiss. Our lips met and I discovered that Shine was an accomplished kisser. She hugged herself close to me and I wrapped her into my arms, her small breasts pressing into my chest and her tongue licked over my lips. I sighed and responded. Our tongues dueled for a moment before she withdrew, a confused look on her face.

"What's wrong? Is it the way I look," she asked, self-consciously. "You didn't even twitch..." She moved her hips again but still, nothing stirred. Shine was obviously somewhat turned on, her face a little flushed, her breath a little quicker, but the only thing I felt was the occasional thump coming from my wrist.

I shook my head.

"I told you, ever since I've met Cat, my life hasn't been the same. I just don't feel anything," I said, blushing fiercely.

"That's impossible," Shine said.

"No, not at all. Normally, I would be all over you right now but look," I explained, humping my pelvis against her.

"Maybe you're lacking proper stimulation," she chuckled. In a flash, she was beside me, her hands making short work of belt, button and fly.

"Hey," I complained but before I could say anything else, she had her hands in my trousers, caressing my dick. Skillfully, she maneuvered it clear of my fly and stroked it.

"Nice package," she purred, before looking into my eyes. "Do you mind?"

"A little late to ask. Go ahead, knock yourself out. But don't complain if nothing happens," I told her. Grinning, she began to lick my meat. Her tongue left hot trails on my member but, as predicted, nothing happened. Even her scorching lips wrapped around the tip didn't cause more than a feeble twitch.

Shine stopped teasing me, a sober look on her face.