comStar Firewall alert - PhaseThrough

40
. . . the idiot’s Guide
to the Matrix . . .
SueZ pulled at the edges of her dress as she squinted across the virtual dance floor, a futile
effort to modify her icon’s appearance. She knew it had been a mistake to let her boyfriend play with
her commlink, but she couldn’t wipe her ID trail or radically modify her profile on her own. Her offthe-rack
avatar wouldn’t have been allowed access to this place, so she needed him to reprogram her
usual boring goth-cheerleader look. As a result, her social debut saw her wearing something that
looked like a Victorian trid show period piece made entirely from vinyl. Next time she saw him, they
were going to have a talk about taste.
She tried to summon up an aura of confidence she didn’t feel. If her parents caught her doing
this she would be very, very dead. SueZ reconfigured her emotive filter to hide her nervousness and
slipped between the various … things blocking her path. The first advice she’d heard about this place,
long before she found the hidden path to its doorstep, was to mind her manners. She was sure she
could clip right through most of the “people” chatting to each other in the club, but she was just as
sure she didn’t want to anger the natives.
The natives were definitely the most interesting part of the club. The appearance of the space
changed on a regular basis, but it wasn’t anything cutting-edge. Tonight the club resembled a dimly
lit dive bar out of ancient history. Brassy music blared from the speakers, and the simulated smoke
and smell of tobacco floated through the air. The patrons, by contrast, ranged the gamut of avatar
sophistication. One user had painstakingly created a pudgy middle manager, right down to the dandruff
on the shoulder. He was speaking to an animated creature of fire and lava wielding a spiked
battlehammer. Well-crafted, but not the avatars SueZ was seeking.
In the shadows by the bar, a pair of trim avatars waved in her direction. The one resembled
some sort of winged she-devil, all leather and spikes, while the other had soft white feathered
wings and a halo glow around her head. The two moved in mirror image to each other as they
drew SueZ near, guiding her closer to the bar. The bat-winged avatar smiled, and handed her
a simulated drink. In her hand the glass was cold, and in the glass swirled a purple concoction
swarming with damned souls.
“Off-the-rack tech, ne?”, the angel asked with the echoing voice of a choir.
“Y-yes. Sorry. I, um. I have it.” SueZ held the glass tightly, staring at the swirling faces in the
brew. “Can you get me out?” The women exchanged glances.
The demoness leaned close. She smelled of brimstone. “You will get us your parents’ passkeys?”
SueZ took a deep draught of the purple liquid, nodded, and said “Get me out of the arcology,
and I’ll get you whatever you need.”
Unwired
Simon Wentworth (order #1132857) 9