Ty, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...
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Damon met with the journalist on his own. These days, it was hard to draw Ty out of his bubble of domestic bliss anyway.
If he mentioned Sam, Ty would hop to it. Then again, the meeting was unlikely to work out. He would bother his brother when there were tangible results.
He drummed on the desk, awaiting first contact. The buzz of stilted conversations and row after row of interfaces surrounded him. Emmeline Tradu had insisted on a virtual meeting of her choice. The closest place was an old hangout of Damon's, Dungeons and Coffee. It was a nerd underground interface exchange for online tournaments and black-market dealings.
The Dungeon connection was more secure than Damon's at home. The venue was also neutral, so Emmeline felt safe exchanging sensitive information via their interweb system. She had asked him several times if he was a State Agent, as though if she asked him enough times, he would reveal his true intent.
I wouldn't tell you I was an Agent, even if I was, Damon had held himself back from saying.
No need to scare the journalist with his fascist jokes. She still lived in a democracy, and would thus fail to find the humor in the outright depressing. Then again, she was French...
Suddenly, the interface in front of Damon lit up. A messenger window opened. Words quickly populated the window, starting with a greeting.
His fingers danced across the keyboard projected onto the smooth desk surface, tiny square lights that weren't really there.
Just like me.
He glanced around with a flash of unease. If any of his old pals breezed through, he might have to jet. His new ID, optical and fingertips, indicated him to be Augusto Harrington. It wouldn't do to be called Damon.
After a few minutes of virtual back-and-forth, Emmeline was satisfied that Damon wouldn't be sending her a cease and desist order. He promised to send her semi-details about his story, in exchange for locations.
The messenger window filled again, with a fat paragraph about how he had to divulge every detail about his State encounter if the exchange were to take place. Again, Damon drummed his fingers on the desk, considering. He had prepped two files, one semi-detailed, and another very detailed.
Sam's annoying smile overpowered his hesitation. Damon uploaded and sent the very detailed file to Emmeline.
Minutes later, she typed, "This is all true?"
"Sadly, yes."
"Then, a deal is definitely a deal."
A light chime resounded through the interface speakers, evidence of a file ready for download. It was titled:
