35 – Bank on It

  Addie stepped into Madeline’s Used Books, rubbing her hands together as she absorbed the warmth. It was starting to get cold in the evenings, and she hadn’t dressed very warmly when she left her dad’s shop. A couple of days had passed since her lunch with Beef, and she and Tony had both begun to relax a little; Zane had kept his distance—no further attempts to “recruit” her—and it felt like things were calming down in the neighborhood following the Helldogs’ supposed raid on the Black Jades.

  Just before leaving, she’d heard her dad and Mr. Nguyen discussing the various rumors going around. Specifically, one that said the Helldogs found out about the Jades’ organ-harvesting activities and decided to put a stop to the operation. Of course, the Helldogs loved the good publicity, and Addie wouldn’t have been surprised if they were the ones who’d started the whispers; there was even some footage of the bloody walk-in cooler and refrigerated organ containers spreading on the local nets.

  “Addie?” Madeline looked up from her counter, smiling as she set aside a cardboard box she’d been opening. “Nice to see you in here; it’s been a slow day.”

  “It was quiet on the sidewalks too. I think people are just wanting to stay home and keep warm.”

  “Sure—home or at work.” She winked and turned toward a beverage dispenser she kept on the counter behind her. “Hot cocoa?”

  “Really? Yes, please!” Addie walked over to the counter, stuffing her hands into her too-thin jacket pockets.

  “Just give this old BrewBox a few minutes to figure out the right mix.” Madeline shook her head and tsked. “Even when it was new, it took a long time to sort out the powder combination.” She turned to Addie. “What brings you in? I can look for it while we wait.”

  “It’s kind of a weird request, but it's for a story I’m working on.” Addie knew she was fibbing, but it was sort of true; if she got what she wanted, she might put together a story on it someday. “I was hoping you might have some articles or texts about how sparks learn to manipulate Dust. Ever since I met that guy here on Boxer Day, I’ve been wanting to research more about them. You know, I never really thought the rumors about what they could do were real.”

  “Oh yeah! He was something else, wasn’t he? Let me think…” She paused and tapped her chin. “Hermes, you heard her; go through the database.” Her eyes went blank for a moment while she looked at something on her AUI, then she smiled and nodded. “Eight years!” She laughed, slapping her hands together with enthusiasm. “This chip’s been sitting in a drawer for eight years, Addie!”

  “You have something?”

  “Yep. I'm not sure how helpful it will be, but I’ve got an instructional text from Longview Biodynamics Corporate Institute. Let’s see…” She walked around her counter and over to the bank of alphabetized drawers that lined the far wall of her shop. They were small—about ten centimeters by fifteen—but Addie knew they were deep and filled with data chips. She’d browsed them a time or two, but there were thousands of chips in those drawers, and each had to be scanned to display its contents, so it was a slow process.

  Madeline looked over the labels pasted above the handles, stopping at one near the middle. Then, she spent a solid two minutes flipping through the chips in their little tray inserts before she held one up with an “Aha!” She walked toward Addie and waved the chip back and forth in triumph. “Twenty bits, Miss Jones. I’d give it to you, but I need to keep the lights on, you know?”

  Addie knew the policy: when a chip was for sale—not one Madeline had already sold and was letting Addie get a peek at—she’d have to pay before looking at it. Madeline argued that it was too easy to copy data to allow free access, even to friends. “No problem. I’m interested enough to risk—” A noisy beep from the BrewBox interrupted her, and Madeline chuckled, walking past her back to the counter.

  “I’ll ring it up while you sip your cocoa.” She handed Addie a paper cup with steaming brown liquid inside as the machine began burbling again, working on another cup for Madeline.

  “Thank you.” Addie took a sip, smiling; it was sweet and had a chocolatey taste, so she was happy enough with the mixture. The matronly shopkeeper, meanwhile, took the security tag off the data chip and touched it to her little terminal. A moment later, Addie saw a pay request on her AUI and approved it.

  “Here you go, hon. Hope it helps with your story.” She set the chip on the counter, then looked out the window, watching the traffic for a moment. “Is it true what they say about that fellow working for your dad? The Helldogs rescued him from the Black Jades?”

  “Well, sort of. I’m not sure the Helldogs had that in mind when they raided that warehouse, but yeah, they let Tony out.” Addie wanted to tell the real story, but Tony had insisted this was better for everyone involved—let people think the Helldogs were just looking out for the district; let everyone believe they took out all those Jades.

  “Lucky. I heard some real horrors were going on in there.” Addie just nodded, sipping her drink. “He’s a nice guy? I heard he beat the tar out of that big fella from the Cold Boys.”

  “Malik? Well, that was in the ring—a fair fight. Yeah, he’s nice. My dad likes him.”

  “Mmhmm. Your dad, huh?” Madeline looked at her sideways, a sly smile on her lips.

  Addie’s cheeks reddened. “Well, I get along with him, too!”

  Madeline chuckled and snatched her cup from the BrewBox as it began to beep, silencing it immediately. “Too loud!” When she turned back to Addie, she added, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweetie. I know, I know—you’re not a kid anymore, but I still remember you curling up in the corner back there, reading away the afternoons.”

  Addie nodded, her mind drifting back to the same memories. She’d come to Madeline’s a lot after her mom died. It had been her mom who showed her the place, her mom who’d given her a love for reading and finding the truth. “I remember, too, Madeline.” She set her cup on the counter and picked up the data chip, sliding it into her pocket. “Talk to you soon, okay?”

  “You betcha. I’ll come by the store in a day or two. I’m making a big casserole, and you know I can’t eat it all. I know your dad’s not much of a cook. I’m telling you, if you’d just give me a heads-up, I’d be happy to teach you some of my recipes—”

  “Okay, okay!” Addie laughed, shaking her head and walking toward the door. “I’ll try to squeeze it into my schedule.” When she stepped outside, she zipped her jacket up tight to her neck and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She glanced at her AUI—no new messages. Tony was busy with a delivery to Monk’s Arcade. Her dad had gotten in a vintage VR booth off an auction, and Mr. Monk had purchased it sight unseen.

  She’d taken a risk, walking around alone, but how long could she keep hiding at the shop? How long could she rely on Tony to escort her around? Nobody knew where she was, least of all Zane or his “head hunter” friend. Besides, the Helldogs had been out in force, on the lookout for reprisals from the Jades. As she had the thought, she saw two of them on the corner and averted her gaze, looking at her feet as she walked. Things had been a little…awkward since she’d gone with them to rescue Tony.

  “Hey, doll!” one of the bangers called, and Addie grimaced as she looked up. To her guilty relief, though, they were focused on another “doll” walking in the other direction. She sped up, moving around the corner and rapidly toward home. When she’d gotten to the end of the block, near Mr. Nguyen’s bodega, she turned on her location sharing with Tony again, a twinge of guilt running through her. She was sure he’d noticed when she turned it off, but he probably just thought she wanted some privacy. That was reasonable… Wasn’t it?

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  When she stepped into her dad’s shop, he was busy at the counter with a couple of banger wannabees, extolling the virtues of one knife over another. “I’m home, Dad. Going upstairs.”

  “Sure, hon.” He waved absently, his eyes locked on the two youngsters, likely afraid they’d slip something in a pocket if he gave them the chance.

  Addie went upstairs and into her room. She took the new data chip out of her pocket, pulled off her jacket, and flopped onto her bed. “JJ, scan this chip before you upload the data, then display it in my Lexium app.” With that, she reached toward the back of her neck, peeled back a thumb-sized flap of synth-skin, and slipped the chip into her data port, just underneath JJ’s PAI chip. She bunched her pillow up a little behind her head and then stared at the ceiling while she waited.

  “I have to update my malware defense library. Do you mind waiting a moment?”

  “Go ahead.” Addie held her hand up in front of her face, staring at it while she waited. The night before, she’d watched it disappear twice before falling asleep. Thinking about Zane and the talk of her being a spark, she’d tried to will it back into existence a few times, but it always seemed to come randomly, and she’d fallen asleep frustrated. That had been when she’d had the idea of looking for a guide.

  She’d searched the local net, but all the leads and rumors seemed to take her to firewalls, password-protected servers, and message boards. People were paranoid after the AI war, and, she supposed, rightfully so. Society had taken a hit to the convenience of ubiquitous data and endless connectivity, but having networks fragmented, firewalled, and even air-gapped ensured that a rogue AI or bad human actor wouldn’t be able to shut everything down again—not like in the war.

  Her AUI beeped, and her Lexium app opened, displaying a title page for the document in the chip: Longview Biodynamics Corporate Institute – Training Guide for Prospective Dust Empaths, 2083. “Sheesh, this thing’s as old as I am.”

  “Actually, Addie, judging by the firmware date, this chip is thirteen years older than you.”

  Addie sighed. “Thanks, JJ. I know when I was born.” She flicked her finger, paging through the document to the introduction, and read the bold-print overview:

  Welcome to the forefront of a new era in human advancement.

  Established in 2080, Longview Biodynamics Corporate Institute is proud to lead the scientific exploration and application of Dust energy through enhanced human cognition and sensitivity. As part of our pioneering initiative, the Dust Empath Program is designed to identify and cultivate individuals with innate Dust receptivity.

  Through rigorous training and cutting-edge technology, our program equips candidates to interface with Dust-reactive systems, unlocking unprecedented capabilities in data transmission, energy manipulation, and environmental augmentation. While the precise mechanisms of Dust remain under study, early research indicates that certain individuals, termed Dust Empaths by our corporation, can intuitively interact with Dust fields, providing enhanced operational flexibility in high-tech, high-risk environments.

  Longview Biodynamics is committed to ensuring that all participants receive the knowledge and tools necessary to harness this groundbreaking resource responsibly. Together, we stand on the threshold of a new frontier—one where human ingenuity and Dust energy converge to shape the future.

  “Dust empath, huh? What a nerdy way to describe a spark.” Addie snickered at herself; she was talking like one of the neighborhood bangers. “JJ, what year was the Blast? 2072, right?”

  “That’s right, Addie. Aurora Gate fell from orbit in November of 2072.”

  “So, Dust had only been around for about ten years when they started this program. Kind of amazing to think that any sparks they were working with were probably just kids.” She touched the yellow “contents” button on her AUI, and a list of topics appeared. Scanning through them, she saw that Chapter One was all about adjusting to life at the institute, but the title of Chapter Two had her catching her breath: Engaging with the Dust in Your Biological System. Addie touched the “go to” button and began to devour the contents.

  ***

  When Tony returned to the shop, it was late afternoon, and he caught Bert dozing on his stool, his back against the wall by the coffee counter. The older man snorted and nearly fell off his perch when the bell rang, and Tony stifled a laugh. “Ah, good, you’re back! Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, no problem. I put the cart in the alley.” Tony walked behind the counter and squatted in front of the little drink fridge. A moment later, he stood with a pouch of berry-flavored sparkling water. “Addie upstairs?” He’d seen her dot disappear from his mini-map while he was making his delivery and then reappear a half hour later by the bodega. It had stressed him out at first, and, if he were honest, he was about to message her when it came back. Obviously, she’d been up to something she hadn’t wanted him to know about, which was fine; he wasn’t her keeper.

  Bert yawned, glancing toward the door to the storeroom. “Yep. Think she might be napping; I haven’t heard a peep out of her.”

  Tony nodded and then looked toward the enclosed case on the wall where Bert kept his firearms. “Hey, I wanted to run something by you.”

  Bert slid off his stool and began fussing with the mess behind the counter—stuffing bags in the dispenser, putting his coffee cup on the rack with the others, and scooping some candy wrappers into the recycler. “What’s that, buddy?”

  “Addie’s got a pretty big lead for a story that’s going to ruffle some feathers around here. She wants to do a little investigating tomorrow outside the Helldogs’ turf. You know, that apartment complex she was looking into.”

  “Royal Breeze?” Bert clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Don’t like the sound of that. You’re going with her, though, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I am, but I was wondering if I ought to have a piece this time. You know, just for a real emergency—something I can’t punch my way out of.”

  Bert folded his arms, and Tony got ready for an argument. “I wish you could talk her out of it, Tony. I’ve tried, though, and I know she’s got her mom’s stubborn streak. It runs in the family.” He sighed and walked around the counter to the locked case. “You wanna just borrow something, or you looking for a rent-to-own type of situation?” He looked Tony up and down, pausing on the cybernetic arm he’d given him. “I know you can fight, but you any good with guns? Sometimes, they cause more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “I’m pretty good, Bert—passed a lot of certifications so I could take on certain jobs for the corp I contracted with. I can promise you I won’t get Addie hurt just ’cause I’m packing. Nobody’s gonna know it until I need to, uh, make a point.” He walked over to stand beside Bert. “I’d rather just borrow a gun for now, if you don’t mind. When I buy a piece, it’ll be something custom.” He nodded toward a compact needler. “Something like that little Taipan. I’ll borrow that waistband holster you’ve got, too.”

  “Since you’re escorting my daughter, I don’t see how I can say no.” Bert clicked his tongue again, shaking his head, and then pressed his thumb to the biometric lock. “What kinda needles?”

  “Shredders. These guys all wear too much synth-leather to try to get away with paralytics or something.”

  “You think bangers are gonna be the problem?”

  Tony nodded. “Bangers or corpo-muscle flying dark.”

  “Flying dark? You think there’s a big corp doing something under the radar down here?” Bert slid the case open, picked up the needler, and passed it to Tony. It had a solid feel, which was why Tony chose it. Garnet had been making the Taipan in various iterations for something like twenty years, and there was something to be said for the graceful, polished perfection of the weapon. Other needlers held more ammo or had better assisted aim tech, but if Tony had to carry a needler through a swamp and be sure it would fire on the other side, he’d pick the Taipan every time.

  “I’m sure of it, Bert. That’s why we’re going down there.” He nodded to an extra mag on the bottom shelf. “I’ll take that, too, if you don’t mind.”

  “Why not?” Bert almost chuckled, but then he seemed to remember what they were doing and cut it short. “Shredders, huh?” He pulled open a drawer on the bottom of the case. Tony nodded. He wanted some ammo that wouldn’t get held up by light body armor. Bert picked up a box of ammo, the extra magazine, and the waistband holster, handing them over. He stood back and folded his arms again, and Tony figured now he’d get the argument. “Well, if you’re gonna carry a gun, why not something a little less lethal, too?”

  Tony arched an eyebrow. “What you got in mind?”

  Bert turned and walked over to a case mostly filled with knives. Tony had perused them at great length during slow hours in the shop. Bert opened it and reached in, but he didn’t pull out a knife. He held a compact, extendable baton. He snapped his wrist out, and the baton extended with a snick. “You can carry it in a pocket or a boot, and it’s heavy as hell—hits hard.”

  Tony nodded, holding out a hand. “Yeah, I’ve seen similar. I’ve felt similar. Sure, I’ll borrow that, too, if you’re good with it.”

  “If it’ll get Addie home safe, I’m good with it.” Bert slapped it into Tony’s plasteel palm with a thunk.

  Tony pressed the button to retract the baton. As the telescoping sections slid into each other with oily smoothness, he grinned and nodded to the older man. “I’ll get her home, Bert. Bank on it.”