Chartreuse || ONC 2022

▪︎ Digi Log 7 ▪︎

Micro-Oz, Neo-York
07:03

The moment the first rays of the collasping sun could be seen over the tops of the skyscrapers, the city lurched. With the hum of fusion engines, Neo-York began its day-long trek across the endless dunes.

The elevated streets and walkways filled with citizens of every age, designation, and description as they made their way to yet another day of work. On the facades of the lofty buildings all around them, a singular message was displayed:

Big Sister is Watching You

Saito and Mina parted ways with Ava-1 and followed the hundreds of pedestrians and hover vehicles into Micro-Oz where they would speak with their previously chosen parties.

Awaiting the light change at a crosswalk, Saito noticed a group of stone-faced young children. They stood in a cluster, recording devices held aloft and aimed at all the passersby. The group was comprised of a mixture of boys, girls, and androgynies, and each child appeared to be seven to ten years of age. They all donned identical neon blue shorts, metallic gray shirts, and red neckerchiefs.

"What do you make of them?" Saito whispered to Mina.

Mina lifted the brim of her large black umbrella enough to observe the children while maintaining discretion. "Their behavior is odd," she murmured in return. "They appear to be taking video and photographs of all the adults in the vicinity. And their attire is without variation, despite gender. A school uniform, perhaps?"

A nondescript woman waited for the light beside Saito and Mina. She glanced both ways, her expression anxious, then leaned in and whispered a warning: "Don't let those little gremlins catch you staring. They're members of the Junior Spies."

"Junior Spies?" Saito repeated.

The woman gave a solemn nod. "Big Sister's most controversial surveillance faction. She has the leader of the Spies recruit and train children as young as five."

"Oh, how very curious," Mina remarked. "To what end? Loyalty from infancy?"

The woman nodded again. "Absolutely. Glorified brainwashing. After all, who better to spy on people while inside their homes than their own children, right? Disgraceful. But you didn't hear that from me."

The crosswalk illuminated and a series of digital tones rang out. The woman jogged across the street, as if afraid to cross parallel to the children.

Saito and Mina glanced at each other with mild interest, then made their way across the multi-lane intersection. The Chartreuse Factory loomed beyond the hologram street signs.

As they approached the monstrous building, Mina consulted the note they'd received from Nova the previous night. "Trip works on the production floor," she read aloud. "You'll use that entrance, there. Genesis is in the marketing department, so I'll go to the top level."

"I'll see you shortly," Saito said, turning toward the doors Mina had pointed out. "Be vigilant for Junior Spies."

"You as well."

¤ ¤ ¤

Apple Bytes
Micro-Tokyo, Neo-York
07:32

An electronic chime dinged pleasantly as Ava-1 entered Nova's shop. Apple Bytes, it was called, as the common slang term for a compact super computer was an "Apple."

"Good morning!" Nova called as she emerged from the back room.

"Moooorning!" Ava-1 said back in a sing-song voice. She gave Nova a cheeky wave.

"Oh, Ava! Hi!" Nova cried a bit louder than necessary. The sight of the half-cyborg was even more shocking in the daylight. "You're here! Nice and early, too."

"Should I come back later?" Ava-1 asked.

"No, no, this is great," Nova insisted. "We don't have any customers yet, so Whitlock can give you his full attention. Well, if you can pry him away from his current mess-in-progress, that is."

She pointed to a long table positioned to the side of the front counter. The surface was covered with a haphazard jumble of computer parts. Seated behind the table was a young man sporting a mop of wavy dark hair and a comically huge pair of magnifying goggles.

Ava-1 approached the table, her left eye scanning and taking inventory of each item on the tabletop individually. "What happened here?" she asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"Apple sauce," Whitlock replied absently. "Crazy dude thought his kid bugged his computer, so he took it apart down to the bolts in search of the worm."

"Did he find one?"

"In this Apple?" Whitlock clarified. "Nah. But I found one inside his watch when he dropped the computer off to be reassembled."

"He owes you. Twice, by the look of things."

Whitlock's shoulders bounced with silent laughter. As Ava-1 watched, he welded two delicate edges of the screen's framework together with the heated beam of a tiny laser. The beam shot directly out of the tip of his left index finger. His entire left hand, from the wrist down, was synthetic. Much like Ava's.

"Hell of a body mod," she commented, indicating his left hand.

At last, Whitlock looked up. The goggles made his eyes appear impossibly large, like the Manga characters of the Second Forgotten Era.

"No body mods here," he told her. "I lost my real hand in...an accident." His huge eyes blinked at Ava-1 quizzically, and he pushed the goggles up on his forehead to better see his visitor. "But you already know what that's like, I'm guessing."

"I know what it's like," she confirmed. "But I don't remember going through it."

Whitlock made no effort to be subtle as he ogled her. "That's probably not a bad thing. How much of you is synthetic?"

"Approximately sixty-five percent," she said. She studied his smooth, youthful face in surprise. He was not what she had been expecting. "Gigs... How old are you?"

"Sixteen." Whitlock shrugged.

"Just a kid," Nova interjected from behind the counter. "But he's the best. Whitlock can fix anything."

"Anything?" Ava-1 asked.

"Except Neo-York," Whitlock said. "That's where you come in."

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