The Streets - Two Birds [ 2 ] (sci-fi series)

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The door slid open with the sound of a pressurised release and an air-curtain doubled the insurance of external contamination from entering. Even if something did get through, numerous sensors continually monitored and would pull in the cleaners if required, the cleaners being a team of bots to sweep and dispose of what did not belong.

The proximity sensor on the HUD was clear except for a solid green dot just outside the door on the other side of the wall. Phil. He stepped out and turned to his right.

"Hey, Phil."

"Boss."

"Heading out to see what I can see."

"Need company, Boss?"

"It's okay, just a walk in the jungle."

"Don't stray, Boss."

"You worry too much, Phil."

"About myself. You are my paycheck, Boss."

"How sweet of you."

Although they couldn't see each other's mouths, both knew the other was smiling. They had been through a lot together already and would likely face a lot more. More than employer/employee, closer than brothers, they had both been soldiers and he knew despite Phil's dry humour, he would always have his back when push came to shove. And, he had proven time and time again he could take a push and give a hell of a shove when the times called for it.

"Tell, that hot wife of yours Hi from me, Okay Phil?"

"Sure thing, she actually thinks you are cute Boss, kind of like a harmless kitten."

"I know. Harmless. See you soon."

As he turned away from Phil he noticed him flip the safety off on his weapon.

He rolled his neck, took a deep breath and began his walk toward the jungle. The neighbourhood was clean, maintained, engineered but that would change at the only gates in and out. A point where three more guards stood, two to greet incoming, one up high on a tower with a heavy gun in case of trouble.

"Boys."

"Enjoy your walk, Boss."

He stepped pass the guards and immediately, the tone changed.

The song ended. Next Up: Karmacoma. Fitting.

 

The filtered smell of smoke drifted into his nostrils. It wasn't actual smoke though, the mask he wore replicated environmental smells at the neural level. It was too dangerous to breathe without it, too many contaminants in the air, too many microscopic nanobots looking for a host to infect. Looking for a way in.

It was early but the streets were filled, the light from the major sun burning through the dust raised by the many feet trampling the earth. The sounds of hawkers selling whatever they could for whatever they could get for it. The crumbling buildings, like a rundown set from a spaghetti western corralled the people into a central bazaar.

He looked at some of the faces he could see. Many wore masks, but few wore of the quality that would offer any real protection from what rode the breeze. Those that had good enough were either the wealthy who walked with their personal security detail or the criminals who walked with their security details. The highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows, everyone needed security. Everyone but the average.

There were the unmasked too, many of the faces hardened and scarred, some with chunks of flesh missing and healed over into hollow craters. Nanobots with poor code were the cause. They had infected the wrong host but would feed on them just the same. The only way to survive was to cut them out but for the unskilled hand without specialised equipment, their microscopic size meant guess-work surgery. Pretty, it was not.

All kinds of life existed out here in the Jungle, all kinds of death too. For most, it was just a matter of time before death came knocking at the door to claim its prize, for many, they would likely welcome it. Life, the most beautiful thing nature can offer yet, it is the experience along life's pathway that has value. These days, not many looked forward to that journey each day. It is probably a large part of what accounted for the lack of children coming in. It wasn't the only reason though.

As if on cue, he walked past a group huddled in a circle on the ground, rocking backwards and forwards in synchronisation. A mess of cables snaked around their feet and in the centre, a drum with tubes poking out with a bluish liquid slowly feeding through could be seen. Food.

The cables twisted into hundreds of connections crudely spliced together with each member of the coven pierced multiple times, their bodies hardwired into the system. This group was small, perhaps thirty in all but, there were factory buildings filled with similar. The addicts. The network gamers.

How far had technology come? It had started off so innocently, a way to relax and unwind until soon, it was all some did. Everything was available in the virtual world and once the neural replication systems came online allowing for 'real' feelings of experience, most succumbed to the pleasures it offered, the sense of achievement they felt they could not get in reality.

With few jobs and few opportunities to create a better life for oneself, they took what the corporations offered. Artificial emotional consumption, a place where they could feel they were really living the life they deserved. The governments encouraged as many as they could into the system, the mindless are cheaper to manage.

And, they don't procreate, at least not in reality. Their virtual families are real enough for them. Two problems solved, continual consumption and no unwanted children from those who did not have the drive or willpower to say no to simulated pleasures.

Two birds, One program.

Taraz
[ a Steemit original ]

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