The previous night, Holly and Mark called to make sure Tracy would be there, ostensibly to pick her up for lunch. Now the appointed hour is drawing near... And there she is, right on time at the door.
Holly, a half Chinese, half Hispanic woman, has added a few lines over the years to her face that Tracy doesn't remember ... But sometimes absence will give you a fresh look at people you look at but never really see because they're around all the time. She's dressed informally, which for the VP of Security for Avatars LLC, means a black jumpsuit and business jacket with the A-star swoosh logo over the breast pocket, concealing a small handgun.
The heavy-set Caucasian with the worried look following her is Mark, her then and now husband who works in Marketing's legal department, and the white dog with the odd blue face markings is... News to Tracy.
Holly stops at the door and taps the intercom button. "Hello, Tracy! Are you ready to go?"
Tracy throws on a light jacket over her casual clothes, unsure if they're leaving the Tower or not, grabs her purse and thumbs open the door. "I'm ready mom.." she says, then blinks as she notices the canine. "You guys got a... dog?" she asks.
The large white dog's ears perk, and he looks expectantly at the door, cocking his head ever so slightly to one side curiously.
"Well, it's a long story," Holly says, smiling at her daughter fondly. "I'll explain on the way."
The teenager closes the door behind her, and gives her mother an odd look. "So.. you've decided to replace me already, with someone more obedient, right?" she asks, only half in jest.
Mark laughs. "We'd miss your streak of rebelliousness," he admits.
Holly grins. "I have plenty of children like that already," she teases. "They're called 'employees'."
Tracy can't help but laugh along with her parents. It's something she'd forgotten they could all do together. "Okay, where to for lunch?" she asks.
The dog's tail wags slightly. Perhaps he's managed to pick up the meaning of the word "lunch."
Their aircar awaits on a nearby public landing pad, down the hall and out to a skyway. It's just as Tracy remembers it, an Icarus Cloud model 7 car, made two years ago, silver-gray coloring, down to the stuffed squirrel toy hanging from the dashboard mirror. "The Lucky Seven Dragons," Holly says. A Chinese restaurant they've been to many times.
"I didn't think you could bring a dog into a restaurant?" Tracy asks, as she climbs into the back seat. She looks at the canine, trying to figure out its breed. Samoyed? Shina-Ibu? A mix? That blue doesn't look like a dye-job.. and what's with the huge collar?
The dog bounds up to the aircar, then sniffs at it, at the landing pad around it, and at the air. He scans the surroundings, ears alert.
Mark jokes, "I'll just tint my mirrorshades and pretend he's my guide dog."
"Dear! It's all right, I specified we'd be bringing a pet in the reservation," Holly says. She nods to Cadena once he's given the all clear, then opens the doors for her family.
The large man winks. "Maybe I've been blinded by reading too much fine print!"
"What's his name?" Tracy asks as she gets in, always taking the seat behind her mother since it'll have the most leg-room.
After Mark, Cadena, and Holly get in, Holly lifts the aircar off. An inconspicuous light goes from amber to green as the skywalk and the Tower recede into the distance. "Tracy, this is Cadena. He's one of the prototypes of Avatar's new Real Life Companion program. Cadena, why don't you introduce yourself?"
Mark is sitting in the front passenger seat, which leaves Cadena in the other back passenger seat.
The dog ducks his head as the auto seat-belt restraint slides into place. He nods to Holly, then turns toward Tracy. "I am Cadena, a prototype Avatar companion, Metal type, at your service," he says clearly.
"He's.." Tracy starts to ask, then just stares at Cadena when he talks. She reaches out to tentatively pet his head. "Metal Type. Are you a cyborg? You look alive, I mean..."
Holly guides the aircar toward a different level of the Tower, where the black walls change to gold, dotted by greenery visible over the railing that keeps apartment-dwellers from falling off.
The dog leans obligingly into the head-pat. "'Metal type' refers to my elemental alignment, were we in the Avatars universe. It is a purely decorative term in the Real World. I am an artificial biological construct with some non-organic synthetic components, completely safe, yet technically within the definition of a 'cyborg.'"
"You're a talking dog," Tracy says, someone distantly, as if she can't really believe it. "Avatars is making talking dogs. What.. I mean.. you've got a real brain so.. are you still an AI? Dad, isn't this really pushing up against the replicant statutes?"
Mark shakes his head. "We've investigated and the laws are aimed at replicating humans in appearance. As long as the product doesn't identify itself as a human, or look like a human, there's no deception involved." He adds, giving Cadena an apologetic look over the shoulder of his chair, "Sorry, didn't mean to call you a 'product'. I'm just talking in general."
"We've been testing these prototypes over the past few years," Holly adds. "They're aimed at the upper end of the market, as bodyguards and assistants in circumstances where an actual bodyguard would be too conspicuous or intrusive. They're very popular with children, for instance."
"But.. he can talk," Tracy mutters, still absently petting Cadena. "And he has guard-dog training too?" She actually starts studying Cadena's paws next, to see how dog-like they really are - or if they can work like hands too!
The aircar banks toward the wall of the Tower. The Lucky Seven Dragons is barely visible at this distance; unlike many upscale restaurants, it doesn't have a big floating sign to direct diners in. There's just the mosaic of dragons on its outer wall to mark its location.
Cadena nods, looking as unoffended as a dog might, and obligingly offers up a large and somewhat oddly-shaped paw - but still a paw nonetheless, despite a larger-than-normal dewclaw, and somewhat more flexible toes. "I am also informed of all applicable laws regarding AI behavior and restrictions in the United States, its protectorates, and certain other nations."
"Can you.. uh.." Tracy leans in to whisper the rest into the dog's ear: "Can you use the potty like a person?"
"Just don't ask him to practice law, we couldn't afford the bar bond," Mark jokes.
"I can flush, too, and I even put the seat back down," Cadena answers.
Tracy smiles at that, then tries to get the image of why the dog would need the seat up out of her head. "So, you're out here for field testing?" she asks, wondering if the dog is actually smarter than she is.
The dog nods at this. "Your demographic is underrepresented in the field testing regimen so far, so this would be an excellent opportunity."
"And that's why I'm taking you to lunch," Holly says with a grin. She brings the aircar in to the restaurant.
"Oh.. so.. you're giving me Cadena then?" Tracy realizes, then immediately accuses, "and doing it here means you can charge lunch to your expense accounts I bet!"
Holly corrects, "Not giving, lending. He's still registered to Avatars LLC. Tax obligations on gifts, you know."
Mark sighs. "We're never going to break your mom of that cheapskate streak of hers," he says to Tracy.
"So.. you're handing me an awesome pet, but then you're going to take him away later?" Tracy asks, in her you've got to be kidding tone of voice.
"Thrifty!" Holly objects. She pops the door. "Well, not unless you've been bad."
The dog ear-perks at the word "awesome," and his tail wags slightly more vigorously as he disembarks. However, he corrects, "I believe the nature of the term is indefinite, until such time as I should be of no further use."
The formerly green light winks back to amber.
Outside of the car, Tracy hugs her windbreaker closed out of habit. "Unless I've been bad? So.. is Cadena going to be spying on me for you, or is his memory accessible somehow?"
Holly smiles at her daughter. "You know I'm teasing you, dear." Mark adds, "It's a standard clause of our beta-testing contracts. Avatars LLC reserves the right to recall testing units at any time for maintenance or to repair unforeseen defects, and we retain property rights to prevent resale to other persons previously unspecified in the contract. Not that you're just 'property'." This last as an aside to Cadena.
"I have to sign something, right?" Tracy asks, already sounding defeated. Her dad once made her sign a clause tying her allowance to keeping her room clean and doing chores. And had it notarized.
The dog nods, and looks around to make sure there is no one within earshot who might be alarmed at a talking dog just yet, and then adds, "'Spying' is not at all within my instructions, though I am required to keep basic notes that might be of use for testing purposes, and to give responses to help measure my performance. Also, I am required to answer questions truthfully to the best of my ability if asked by authorized Avatars LLC personnel, or the proper authorities, within the applicable laws regarding information given in confidence, or gathered without proper notification of surveillance."
"Well, just a formality," Mark soothes.
"Cadena.. please don't talk like that," Tracy requests quietly. "You sound like my dad."
Holly sighs. "Don't make our daughter sign something until we've had dessert, dear," she admonishes her husband.
Mark looks abashed. "Sorry. Work. You know how it is," he says.
The dog nods obediently, and sniffs the air again ... then just a little more deeply than might be required to just be alert for trouble, before he returns to looking about and taking in every little detail of his surroundings.
The maitre'd, an old Asian man of the beatific sort, bows to Holly and her family as they step inside the doors. "This way! The black cod is very good today, Ms. Trudeau," Mr. Yan says. "Ah! And your lovely Tracy is joining us today. Excellent! Wonderful!"
The girl bows to Mr. Yan and blushes a bit at the flattery.
Mr. Yan's gaze falls upon the white dog. "What is this? You don't think the meat we serve is fresh enough? Well, if the cook won't reel too hard from the insult, maybe I can importune him to do us a little favor." He winks - joking, of course. One hopes.
Holly blinks.
The dog just looks up at Mr. Yan, tail wagging, like a big dumb friendly white dog ought to.
Tracy nearly pops, her cheeks containing the bark of laughter.
The maitre'd laughs. "No, no, just kidding. We have a place all ready for your canine guest!" He leads the way around to the back of the restaurant, next to the kitchen. True to his word, they've got one of the low tables set out, with pillows on which the guests sit, and a mat for Cadena. A teapot steams, fragrant with jasmine tea.
Tracy sits down and crosses her legs yoga-style next to the mat for Cadena. "Is there a special diet Cadena has to follow?" she asks. She waits to see if Mr. Yan will give the companion a menu as well.
The maitre'd hands out menus to Holly, Mark, and Tracy as they seat themselves, then sets a fourth menu before Cadena. He bows low. "A waiter will be right with you! Promise."
Holly shakes his head. "He can eat what you do," she assures her daughter.
The well-trained dog seems comfortable in his spot, taking in all the sights and sounds of the restaurant. He looks a bit surprised at the sight of the menu in front of him, however, as that takes him a moment to register. He looks askance to Mrs. Trudeau.
Mark mutters something about 'Never can get used to these pillows' but he manages to wedge himself in, legs sticking under the table.
"Can you read it?" Tracy asks Cadena.
Holly whispers to Cadena, including Tracy, "Just point to what you want and Tracy wil order it for you. They're used to rich people who like to pamper their pets."
Cadena nods, as he scans the menu. He looks around warily, then slips one paw up on the table to flip it. (Apparently he can grab things, after a fashion, but just not very firmly or gracefully.)
Tracy is so fascinated by this, that it takes her a moment to realize she needs to look over the menu too. She remembers the comment about the cod. She could never manage to prepare fish on her own, so decides to get that. I hope Cadena can survive on pasta and frozen waffles and hot dogs okay, she thinks. She may have to really start learning to cook actual meals now. Jason might appreciate that as well.
The restaurant is rather busy today; probably at least eighty-percent capacity with the lower level and most of the balcony areas full of guests. This is both good and bad for the Trundeau's. The good part is that Cadena will not likely stand out in the midst of the crowd; only a few tables tend to spare him more than a lingering glance. The bad part is that it is a bit noisy.
Cadena makes a show of sniffing at the menu and the table in general, and then just rests one paw on the menu, a claw tip tapping the "egg roll sampler."
"Egg Rolls, got it," Tracy says to Cadena. "Do you prefer crunchy food in general, or was that just a random choice?"
The dog looks around, then whispers, "No utensils, no bones, no mess."
Mark puts in for the 'sizzling beef platter'. Holly decides on chicken with asparagus, and in the universal belief that parents everywhere share that their children need to eat more vegetables, a spinach stirfry with "flower wontons".
Tracy makes a mental note: Buy some Tater Tots at the market, and some bagel-dogs too.
Cadena spares a slightly incredulous look at a cat snapping away at slivers of flesh from an entire fish, just three tables down. He and then returns his paw to the mat, mission accomplished.
The waiter comes by to take their order, a handsome Asian fellow who could be right out of one of those martial arts holodramas - was it maybe 'A Fist Full of Plasma'? "Would sirs and madame care for anything to drink?" he asks unctuously.
Cadena doesn't place any drink order, but scrutinizes the waiter's face ... then remembers himself and does a couple of obligatory "dog sniffs at the air."
Smiling to the waiter, Tracy asks for, "Diet lemon-lime please, and.." she glances to Cadena, wondering what he'd like to drink.. and if it can be served in a bowl. "A bowl of beef broth," she concludes.
The dog's tail wags.
"A bowl for the good dog, then," the waiter says, making a note on his pad. "And a diet lemon lime for the pretty lady." Holly takes a mineral water and Mark asks for a bottle of red wine, drawing a 'Dear!' and Significant Look from his wife... Followed by an amendment to 'I'll have water too.'
The waiter bows. "Your drinks will be along very soon, sirs and madames!"
"So, you don't talk in public if you don't have to?" Tracy asks Cadena.
The dog does another quick check around, then whispers, "I defer to your discretion, but by default try to keep a low profile."
In short order, the water brings out the egg rolls sampler along with their drinks. Golden fried cylinders of batter are arranged on a huge tray etched with red and gold dragons, with dipping bowls of mustard and soy sauce serving as the sun and moon in the picture. He bows and leaves the diners to eat.
"Want any of them dipped?" Tracy asks the dog, not wanting him to try it himself.
Cadena leans forward and breathes in deeply, tail wagging at Tracy's suggestion.
The girl obligingly dips an eggroll into the soy sauce first, then offers it to Cadena with a smile.
Holly makes small talk with Mark, not wanting to interrupt her daughter's conversation with Cadena. "So Ms. Arcadia decided to drop her suit?" "Yes, we had a little chat about it, she understands there was nothing we could have done." "The poor woman." She reaches out and squeezes Tracy's hand briefly.
The dog almost looks tearfully happy, opening his mouth tentatively, gingerly taking the egg roll without touching any fingers, and then blissfully chewing away at the crispy, flaky golden coating and its montage of ingredients tucked away inside.
The dog, however, stops in mid-chew, then resumes a bit more slowly and solemnly.
While dipping a fresh roll in the mustard, Tracy asks, "What's this about Mrs. Arcadia?"
Mark smiles. "Just work, nothing to worry about." He pats Tracy's hand as well. "Avatars is always a target for suits of all kinds, you know that."
"Why would she be suing Avatars though?" Tracy asks, holding the roll out for Cadena. "Is it about the.. you know.. a few years ago?"
Cadena looks up from lapping at the beef broth bowl, and carefully takes the next egg roll.
Holly nibbles delicately on an eggroll, finishes chewing and swallows before answering. "No, but she recently lost her daughter, and her daughter played Avatars a lot," she says. "She may have felt we were to blame in some way for her daughter's illness."
Mark shakes his head. "It's very sad, but it wasn't anything to do with us. The doctors identified the retrovirus. Something to do with the troubles of the '50s. There were a lot of angry people running around then."
"Oh," Tracy says, flashing back to all of the innoculations she'd been through over her life.. and to a certain extent still gets every year.
The waiter comes by to remove the crumbs-strewn tray and bring the next set of courses. A big bowl of steaming rice, steamed black cod with a sweet misoyaki sauce, a big platter of hot steel with beef sizzling on it, dusted with sesame seeds, and sliced chicken breasts with asparagus spears. The centerpiece is the spinach stirfry, which has small fried wontons shaped like flowers nestled into the leaves.
The big white dog admires the artistry before it gets inevitably broken up by servings, gives the room another scan, and then returns to finishing off his broth.
While Tracy fills her plate, and one for Cadena (if she has to eat her veggies, her dog does too) she asks, "Is everything going okay with the Game still? No more weird.. glitches?" Now that she's seen what happened to her mother and the others when they were trapped inside the virtual world (courtesy of RIU and Jason) she's been very unsettled about it. Not as much as having her home destroyed, but some of it still shows up in her regular nightmares.
The dog eats his greens without complaint.
Holly mmms on the spinach and asparagus, perhaps trying to encourage her meat-loving husband to eat some veggies as well. She breaks off to answer, "No, nothing unusual, sweetie. Everything's running fine, the new White seems to have settled in fine. Why, have you heard something?"
"No, I just haven't been.. following things.. since I started my college work," Tracy admits, not really wanting to tell her mother that she hasn't played Avatars in over a year now - and has even defected to the other team.
Holly nods sympathetically. "Those professors at NYU, they're keeping you busy? Do they seem to know what they're doing, or would you rather that work intership program?"
The big white dog seems to have finished with his bowl for a bit, and stands up, as if stretching his legs.
"I want to get some practice in first before trying for an internship," Tracy says with a smile. "The scape I'm working on now is set in an O'Neil type colony, and you have to compensate for the Coriolis effect and use it to get around by jumping.."
The white dog settles back down again, sniffing at the air some more.
Mark looks interested. "So, a jumping type game? Is it, like, team versus team, you're trying to get through the bad guys and grab the objective and get out?"
"Oh, nothing that developed yet," Tracy admits. "Right now it's just an obstacle course, and.. there are issues jumping through the axis."
Mark grins. "Well, you know, Marketing's always on the lookout for fresh new projects. We don't just run Avatars, we also host a bunch of boutique games. So if you ever want to pitch it..." Holly kisses his cheek. "Dear, she's our daughter, not an employee."
Dessert: fried bananas with green tea ice cream! A classic, but a tasty one.
Tracy just grins. The project is really just for Parkour enthusiasts, but it does count for a grade. She takes a small portion of dessert, since she does try to watch her diet a bit, in terms of calories if not quality.
One fortune cookie is stuck in each individual scoop of ice cream.
Helpfully, Tracy cracks Cadena's cookie open for him, then reads her own fortune.
The slip of paper on Tracy's fortune reads, "You will travel to faraway places." Cadena's fortune reads, "Be alert! The world needs more lerts."
The dog blinks several times at his fortune, then consoles himself by indulging in the very crunchy and crackly cookie.
Spoon in mouth, Tracy doesn't give her's much thought - it's just a fortune cookie, after all. She reflexively turns it over to see what her 'lucky numbers' are though. Sometimes she uses them as encryption keys.
Holly shares her fortune and Mark's, which are respectively, "You will meet a tall, dark, and handsome stranger," and "A goodbye is just a way to say hello again later." Holly reaches down to wipe off the crumbs and... "Where did my napkin go?" She peers under the table suspiciously.
"Don't blame me, I can prove this is mine," Tracy says, showing that the smears on the napkin match her lipstick color.
The lucky numbers seem to be 3, 14, 15, 9, 2, and 65.
The white dog somewhat conspicuously turns to glance over toward the stairs.
Holly shakes her head but borrows Mark's napkin. There's no need to pay the bill, this is going on her expense account, so she stands and offers her husband a hand to get up.
Cadena, seeing everyone get up, gets up as well. He noses his fortune over to Tracy.
"Cadena and I can take the elevators if you've got other stuff to do," Tracy offers, as she unfolds her legs and gets up, taking Cadena's fortune with her.
The white dog trots over in the general direction of the stairs.
"Oh, that's right," Mark says, getting a legal pad - a slim 5x8 bit of plastic that lights up with the standard beta-testing contract. "Sign here and he's all yours."
The white dog's ears flatten, and he makes a whine and looks over to the Trudeaus ... then trots balcony-ward.
"Fine," Tracy notes, and signs with the stylus and pushes her thumb to the appropriate square as well. "Now.. where'd he go?" she asks, looking around for the dog.
Mark puts the pad away. "Okay, have fun with your new friend!" he says smiling, then gives Tracy a hug. Holly does as well, squeezing her daughter.
"See you guys later!" Tracy says to her parents, and then heads for the stairs to try and catch her new pet... and wondering if he comes with an instruction manual or anything. She'll have to ask him later!
The white dog is in the process of going up the stairs, and appears to be snapping at something small, white, and flat.
The napkin appears to have been arrested in mid-air and now drops down to hang limply from the dog's mouth.
Tracy pauses after witnessing this. It takes a moment for her to do the mental math. "RIU, why did you steal my mother's napkin?" she whispers to the air.
Up in the balcony area there are relatively few diners, and the lighting is subdued for the sake of privacy and quiet conversation.
Cadena turns to Tracy, and trots back down to her with the napkin.
It's a bit of a double-take moment, seeing Jason clean-shaven and actually dressed almost business-like in a black button-down shirt, red tie, and trenchcoat, but there he is on the upper balcony. He seems to laugh to himself and shake his head as he watches a certain dog 'win' a napkin. He pulls out some sunglasses, puts them on, then grabs a cardboard box from the table and heads towards the stairs. As he walks, he waves to the air, then pats his shoulder.
They can hear Holly and Mark making pleasant conversation with Mr. Yan as Tracy's parents prepare to leave.
Clawtip indentations appear on Jason's jacket, along with a cheerful "Beep!"
"Good dog," Tracy says, patting Cadena and taking the napkin. She also checks to see if there's anyone else around before saying, "Wow, you clean up pretty good, Jason. Here on business or just stalking me on principle?"
The white dog averts his attention from Jason/Mr. Trenchcoat and scans the room, keeping close to Tracy.
"Business, of course," Jason comments to Tracy as he heads down the stairs. "And your mother is as unobservant as always." The latter comment comes with a bemused grin.
"This should be educational," Tracy tells Cadena, and follows Jason.
Holly and Mark exit the restaurant, heading toward their aircar.
The dog makes way, and follows Tracy.
Jason heads towards the exit as well and once outside, comments loud enough for Holly to hopefully hear, "It could have been a purse or a wallet other than a napkin. You need to pay better attention to your surroundings, Holly. There are lots of questionable people around..."
At that remark, Tracy steps away from a Jason a bit, then realizes she's still clutching the incriminating napkin.
The white dog sniffs at the napkin.
Holly pauses, hearing a familiar voice. "What? Oh my goodness. Jason!" She's as short as ever but a little older than Jason remembers, a little more worn by worries. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes are halfway between a smile and suspicion.
Mark raises an eyebrow. "The security consultant?" Holly nods to him.
The dog looks back and forth between Mrs. Trudeau and Mr. ... Security Consultant.
Tracy kneels down, and whispers to Cadena, "This is Jason Edwards and his invisible pet dragon RIU. They're friends, but.. not harmless. They like to embarrass me, but that's not an attack."
"Business lunch," Jason remarks and lifts his leftover box as 'proof', "Not as productive as I would like, but that's how it goes some days." He waves between Tracy, the dog, then Mark, asking, "Family lunch? How domestic." He grins, which causes his sunglasses to lift a bit.
The big white dog pants and wags his tail.
Holly reasons, "It's been a while since we've seen each other... A mother likes to know her daughter's doing all right."
Mark adds sotto voce, "It's hard for her to let go."
Tracy thinks, "The place is clean, no underwear hanging in the shower or old food sitting out. If Jason wants to come over though, will he be disappointed that it's clean?"
"I sometimes handle surveillance contracts. I could give you a good price on a system to monitor her twenty-four-seven," Jason offers. "At cost. A deal only for old friends."
"I only just got her to stop calling me every day," Tracy grumbles at Jason. "It's like a ten minute walk between my place and theirs."
The dog circles about, taking interest in the surroundings, the drifting scents coming out of the restaurant, and so forth.
Holly laughs. "I think a certain someone might object," she says, looking over at her daughter fondly. "How have you been? I haven't heard from you in the longest time."
Jason taps his shoulder then gestures towards Holly, should RIU want to go say hello as well. The question is first answered by a shrug. "Busy. Between regular work and projects, I don't have much time to make purely social calls, you know? I haven't really kept up with anyone since ... well, the mess," he adds.
"Hey RIU, this is Cadena," Tracy says, figuring the two might get along - or not. RIU can fly and shoot people.. but Cadena can talk and eat ice-cream. There might be some mutual jealousy.
Invisible dragon gives Holly invisible neck-hug! Holly squeaks in surprise, then pats the unseen dragon. "Even Randall calls me every now and then! He's doing well in CERT I gather, they finally promoted him out of probationary status last year. Do you need his number?" She reaches for her handbag - true to form, it's a big one that could carry small elephants.
Immediately, Tracy turns to watch Jason's facial expression when her mom reaches into the bag.
RIU beeps! politely at Cadena from his perch. He lifts into the air and swoops once around the white dog, before settling back onto Jason's jacket.
"No, I have it. No one can hide from me if I want to find them," Jason notes as he reflexively takes a step back when Holly goes for the bag, "And I suppose I shouldn't keep you. I'm sure you have important business to attend to." His left eyebrow twitches, then he can't help himself and addresses Mark, "I have to ask this ... has she ever attacked you with a squid?"
The white dog looks friendly, and wags, and although he sniffs at the air a bit, gives no indication of having the ability to see invisible things that aren't carrying visible things (such as napkins).
Nothing more dangerous than her PDA appears from the purse. Holly pauses, then puts it back in. "That's true, it's why I hired you in the first place," she admits with a smile, then leans toward Jason to confide. "Things have been ... a little hectic lately. We've been changing the passwords on everything on a rotating basis, tightening up security. With Vilius gone independent, I'm being just a bit paranoid."
Mark looks startled. "Not unless you count sushi," he says. "Can't stand the stuff."
"Wait.. you mean you weren't paranoid before?" Tracy asks her mother in mock horror.
Holly shakes her head. "You'll know I'm being paranoid when I lock a chastity belt on you," she says with a grin.
"You should be. Vilius is not exactly engaged in completely legitimate operations," Jason says, "His name has come up quite often in rumors of covert operations, to even assassination attempts. He's also in the market for military gear, from what I've seen. Irongrip is a company that worries me."
RIU de-cloaks with a shimmer of color and scales, then slinks back into Jason's trenchcoat.
"Then why did you make me get those contra-" Tracy starts to retort, then realizes she isn't about to say 'contraceptive shots' in front of her father.
The white dog snaps his jaw shut suddenly, at the sight of what was invisible just a moment ago, then looks disappointed that it is so quickly out of sight.
Holly frowns. "We've been keeping tabs on Irongrip Security, but we can't do anything unless we can prove that he's using what he knows against us. Technically his business isn't violating his no-compete clause."
As an aside to her daughter, Holly murmurs, "You can never be too careful, dear."
Mark looks puzzled at the exchange between his wife and his daughter. "Is it just me or do women have a secret code?" he whispers to Jason.
"Unless you have overkill information, you can't move against anyone. Either you go for a complete kill, or bide your time. Nothing is more dangerous than a wounded adversary," Jason quips. "One of his flunkies tried to access my systems, if you can believe it."
Tracy scratches Cadena behind the ears as a distraction.
"I just accept women are insane and operate from that position," Jason replies quietly to Mark.
Holly nods to Jason. "I wouldn't be surprised, these days you can't just stop at guns and soldiers and call a site secure. I'm sure they have a cyberwarfare department. If you get any word they're targeting Avatars for something, give me a priority call, all right?" She uses her PDA to send Jason a contact that will get through the typical security screen and directly to her, day or night.
Mark nods sagaciously.
"Isn't Avatar's security handled by an AD though?" Tracy asks, showing she's at least paying some attention to the conversation. "Hel, right? Wouldn't they need their own AI to try and get past her?"
"I will. So far they just seem to be a 'for hire, few questions asked' group. I wouldn't put it past them to try for larger companies in time. Or their families. Be careful, Holly. You have a lot to lose. One advantage of being a bit of a recluse is no one gets caught in the cross-fire," Jason says. To Tracy he notes, "Remember that an AI is built and can be unbuilt. We took down White. A good hacker could take down Hel."
Holly says to Tracy, "HEL can't be everywhere, and HEL's limited in certain ways ... ways that Vilius is aware of. That's why we have humans in the loop too, to think of the things that HEL can't."
"So.. uh, why not infiltrate Irongrip and find out what they're up to?" Tracy asks.
Mark recites from memory, "We are not authorized to discuss what paralegal measures Avatars LLC is taking against companies which may or may not have our best interests at heart."
Holly says this along with Mark, then laughs. "Some family we have!"
"Know what a lobotomy is?" Jason asks Tracy rather bluntly. "Because that's what can happen to you if you fail at breaking into a red-class system."
"I mean, like.. planting a mole in with them," Tracy clarifies. "Not everything incriminating would be on a computer."
Holly instantly tells Tracy, "You are not to try to infiltrate Irongrip Security."
The big white dog reluctantly withdraws from the ear-scratching to more vigorously resume his scanning of the surroundings.
"I don't care how cute you look or how nice Mr. Irons seemed when you met him at the corporate picnic three years ago, he is a dangerous man and not to be taken lightly," she adds.
"That just earns you a lead lobotomy," Jason quips. "It isn't like the movies, underdogs usually lose."
"You aren't an underdog," Tracy tells Cadena. "You are an uber-dog."
Mark coughs. "Honey, don't make Holly regret letting you have an apartment of your own," he says discreetly to Tracy. "Not unless you want her to take Jason up on his offer of a surveillance system."
The white dog's tail continues to wag.
"Holly," Jason asks, possibly trying to change the subject, "Have you kept in contact with Akiko and Inari since ... everything?"
"I wasn't volunteering to be a spy," Tracy notes in a droll tone. "I'm too busy as it is. And I doubt mom would want Jason watching me all the time."
Holly nods. "Akiko's working up at the Magnolia Tower, with Arcadia Investments. She's really matured, since she's gotten out on her own! I think it's done a lot of good for her. Inari..." She shakes her head. "HEL's been keeping an eye on news about her for me, but she hasn't called me. I'm worried about her, she was just 'weird' a few years ago, but she seems to be getting more and more dangerous. Taking risks, doing crazy stunts... Did you know they started hiring people with stunt acting in their background to play her roadies and friends?"
Mark grins. "Heaven knows, I don't want Jason watching you all the time. Hey, how do you know him, anyway?"
"Uh.." Tracy starts to say, looking cornered. "I thought he and mom were having an affair when you were divorced so I did some research!" she blurts.
Jason rubs his forehead. "That wasn't what I wanted to hear. You should have just lied to me," he comments, suddenly sounding tired. "If I had to guess ... that behavior implies she's unhappy. You stay busy. Immersed. It helps keep you from thinking about what is bothering you. I don't have her contact information and I don't think she would particularly want to hear from me anyway."
"I... You..." Mark turns red. Embarrassment or anger? "They weren't, right?"
The white dog ... looks between the Trudeaus and Mr. Security Consultant, and then Tracy.
"Anyway, I should let you two go. Forward me Akiko's information when you get a chance? I should at least say hello one of these days," Jason adds.
Holly sighs. "I'm sorry, Jason. I had a feeling that you and she had something, but I was never sure why you two didn't follow up. If you want to get a message to her, I could have it expedited. HEL has its ways."
"They weren't, dad," Tracy assures her father.
"I'll keep that in mind," Jason says, "It was good seeing you. You're as short as ever." Wow, was that last comment half-hearted.
Mark whews, regaining some of his natural coloration. "That business with Sasha... It should never have happened," he says unhappily. "Some people are just very good at..."
"Let's not talk about her okay," Tracy whispers to her father.
Mark shakes his head to clear it. "From what I hear from Holly, Jason's a straight-up guy. But he's a little old for you, you get my drift?" He hugs Tracy again, sensing Holly and Jason wrapping up their conversation. "You take care of yourself, honey."
Holly grimaces. "Someday I'll buy that leg extension surgery and then I'm going to come over and LOOM over you," she threatens Jason. "Stay in touch!"
"I could use a good loom. My towels are looking ratty," Jason quips, waves to Holly, then starts to walk away.
Tracy stares open-mouthed at her father. "Daaad," she hisses. "Mom's the one who's supposed to make comments like that."
Mark makes an imaginary shotgun-ratcheting motion. "Shotgun wedding," he promises, then walks off after Holly to their car.
The white dog looks back and forth, and trots over after the elder Trudeaus to accompany them to their car.
Holly pets Cadena. "You look after my girl now," she whispers to him.
"Let's walk off some of this food, Cadena," Tracy says, smiling to the dog.
Cadena wags his tail and looks up appreciatively to Mrs. Trudeau.
Tracy heads after Jason, catching up and asking, "Are you going to call her? Akiko, I mean. Or just try to find out if she's got a boyfriend now or anything?"
In the moment Tracy seems to be occupying Jason, Cadena looks to Mrs. Trudeau and whispers back, "Thank you ... for a second chance. I value your trust more than I can say." He then pulls back one forepaw and ducks his head in a bow. "I can only hope to justify it through action."
Jason stops mid-step. "That's an odd question," he comments and gives Tracy a sidelong look. "I'll probably call her, yes. Why do you ask?"
Holly smiles, though her eyes seem a little teary. The Trudeaus clamber into the aircar and prepare to depart.
"Because.. I'm curious!" Tracy claims. "In those recordings you showed me, you really seemed to have some affection for her and Inari.."
Cadena straightens up, tail wagging as he watches the Trudeaus, and then he bounds back toward Tracy.
"Adverse situations tend to form friendships," Jason claims. "And speaking of uncomfortable topics, your little toy needs to be returned to its owners before they com looking for you."
"How do you know they're even missing it?" Tracy says. "But I can come and pick it up if you don't want it left at your place. Oh, that kind of reminds me: is there a way to see through partially silvered windows? My unit faces into one of the big light wells, and all the windows are silvered to reflect the light around and for privacy, but I want to be sure they're private."
"Because the father of the last girl contacted me about it," Jason notes, "He has about a month before it is missed. Once his superiors discover it is missing, well, it might mean his life and the life of his idiot daughter." The question then gets a laugh as he says, "As for the windows, that reflects visible spectrum. You can still pick up heat signatures and electromagnetic ones if it doesn't also act as a faraday cage. You can use either to reconstruct what is on the other side."
"Great, so even if I opaque them completely.. wait, what?" Tracy asks. "You found the guy who snatched the suit originally? Or did he find you to find it for him?"
"He was able to trace my inquiries about it," Jason notes, "Which is rather impressive. All he knows is that it came up in one of my investigations. Which is true, mostly. I told him if I located it I would let him know."
"Well, can you charge him enough for recovering it that there's some leftover to actually buy one of the suits?" Tracy asks.
"Oh, been meaning to ask: What's with the dog?" Jason asks. "And no, not really. The only way to get one is through the black market, more or less, since it is military. That's what my lunch was about, I was trying to locate a replacement."
"You were?" Tracy asks, perking up. "For me? Oh.. this is Cadena, an Avatar's Real Life Companion superdog! For my protection, apparently."
The dog looks up at mention of his name, from watching the Trudeaus' hover-car fly off.
A rattly blue-painted G-Motors Commuter hoverbike pulls up at the skyway, trailing smoke. This one looks three years old. The driver, coughing, gets off of the bike and fans his face.
"A super dog? He doesn't look very super," Jason notes as he squats down to get a better look. "Does he fly or shoot lasers out of his eyes? And as for the suit, it will cost minimum of at least a grand to get a replacement, and that's dealing with ... less that pleasant or trustworthy people."
Cadena spins about, on alert, in case there's an emergency afoot.
"He can sort-of-handle stuff with his paws, and.. talk," Tracy confides. "Do I need to come up with that money then?" she asks, "Assuming you can find a replacement, I mean.."
The driver looks to be a freshfaced cropped blond haired teenager, maybe a bit younger than Tracy. "Frotzin' piece of junk," he curses, kicking the hoverbike. Now that the engine is off, the rattling noise and the smoke die away.
The dog, seemingly satisfied, spins back around, and bobs one ear, looking up a bit sideways at Tracy. He patiently submits to Mr. Trenchcoat's examination.
"I'm more likely going to discover a bullet in my head," Jason remarks and gets back up. "You really don't want to be involved in this, Tracy. We're talking Dreg-Gangs. You're better off returning the suit and just taking the reward. I'm sure your super-dog would agree with me, too."
Tracy throws her head back and stares upwards angrily for a moment. Then she looks at Jason again and asks, "How much is the reward? And is there a bonus for repairing the infection?"
The hapless motorist crawls under his bike to access the engine compartment. He slips a multi-tool out of his pocket and opens it up, resulting in a rain of blackened bolts and plastic fragments of what was once, if Jason doesn't miss his guess, one of the fuel injectors.
"Five hundred. That's not enough for even a consumer-grade suit. It'll cover half of what the black market can get the military grade one for, when it 'falls' off a truck if you catch my drift," Jason says. He also can't help but roll his eyes and shout over to the man, "You blew one of your fuel injectors. That isn't moving again without a replacement."
"Anyway, you have almost a month to decide. I knew you would be mad about it, which is why I've been looking into replacements," Jason adds to Tracy.
Tracy watches the bike and pilot. "I was thinking of getting a flyer, more so now that I've got a dog. If you're willing to keep looking for me, I'll wait a bit longer. Maybe the guy will increase the reward if he gets nervous? But I suppose I'll have to give up the suit in hand no matter what now."
"Aw, fandangle!" the driver exclaims. He pulls himself out from under the thing and fishes out his PDA to call for a tow. "Stupid G-Motors junkheap. 'It'll save money', my foot."
Cadena quietly whines sympathetically.
"All depends on if you care that someone might die over it," Jason notes. He rolls his eyes again and starts towards the bike now. "You don't need a tow," he says. "Does the horn work?"
"Well, of course I'm not going to let someone get killed because I want a neat suit," Tracy says, sniffing. "Unless of course it can be used as part of a sting operation to catch Irongrip breaking the law. Maybe I should talk to Randall about it?"
"You don't want to get involved with Irongrip," Jason shouts over his shoulder.
An advertising zeppelin flies by, showing a video of black trenchcoated characters fighting each other over an eerily glowing ceremony in the shadow of a skyscraper. A werewolf lunges for a vampire, then some cowboy-styled character lets loose with twin six-shooters at a Victorianesque steam-powered mecha, and finally an angel, brightly glowing and winged, locks swords with a demon. The Dantech logo flashes in the corner, then swooshes across to fade the scene to the message, "The Gloaming. Go to faraway worlds. Meet strange people. Fight them."
The driver gets up. "I think so," he says. "M'name's Mike. Running late for an appointment, but..." He gestures at the bike.
Cadena is momentarily entranced by the advertising zeppelin, then sidles up to Tracy and whispers, "Have you a moment, mistress? I have reason to believe in his veracity regarding the sort of company he has been doing business with."
"Well, you won't after this, but it can act as a makeshift injector," Jason explains as he picks up the multi-tool the guy was using. "It's just a high-speed air-injector, after all. With a little fiddling, it can inject fuel too," he adds as he gestures towards the bike. "Do you mind?"
"Huh, really?" Mike stares slackjawed. "Uh-- what'll it cost?"
Letting out a sigh, Tracy realizes the world is conspiring to keep her from any kind of danger or excitement. She follows along to the downed bike, and watches the advertisement as well - another reminder that her costume just won't be what she wants. Maybe she could get a hacked consumer version though for cheap, fix it and make the extra modifications. She finally takes a look at the complaining pilot, then whispers to Cadena, "Yeah, I know. I went through a lot of embarrassment for that suit, too."
"Depends," Jason says as he crouches down so that he can find and disconnect the horn, "What do you do? What is your appointment about?"
"His dining companion," Cadena whispers, glancing at the spectacle of remarkable parts substitution, "was attempting to conceal a Spazztic sidearm in the back of his jacket in a public place. That isn't illegal, per se, assuming one has the proper license, but it shows a distinct lack of value of safety at the very least - and possibly a lack of restraint. It is company unwise to keep - or to cross."
Mike looks like your average high school student. Decent pseudo-leather jacket and pants, recommended for the biker. No helmet, which is not recommended. "I, uh, I've got a job interview. Up in the Pagoda Gardens." One of the indoors parks and tea houses. Hopefully he cleans up better than he looks right now.
"You were able to smell all of that," Tracy whispers to Cadena, trying to look like she's not shocked by the revelation.
"There were more senses involved than that, mistress," Cadena clarifies quietly.
"Still, that's pretty amazing.. and do you have to call me mistress?" Tracy whispers back. "Just 'Tracy' is fine. What do your senses tell you about Mr. Mike here. Anything suspicious?"
"I will use whatever address, casual or formal, you prefer, Tracy," Cadena says, and then he turns his attention back to the bike. "I regret that I sense nothing more interesting than what you have already likely ascertained for yourself."
The white dog sneezes as he gets a nose-full of fumes, and then repositions himself so as not to be downwind of the plume.
"Hi, I'm Tracy," Tracy introduces herself to the pilot while Jason fixes his ride. "What sort of job are you applying for at the Gardens?" she asks, smiling.
"You're a bad liar, Mike," Jason notes quietly as he fiddles with the horn cone, collapsing it so that it roughly equals that of a fuel injector then begins to fit it to the engine and its electrical. "You aren't dressed to interview up there. You're also far more nervous than a job interview would indicate. So what are you really up here for? Drugs? Weapons?"
The zeppelin drifts past, repeating the advertisement. This time it's set in a different world, a draw-down at an Indian reservation with the barmaid shimmering into a kitsune in a kimono and stepping into the background as the cowboy draws down on a werewolf. Thundering up behind them is a man on a golden lion, wearing a star over his chest.
Mike stammers. "Um-- are you a police officer? You have to tell me if you are!"
"Nope," Jason remarks as he works on the wiring harness. "Just pointing out you're rather bad at whatever it is you're intending to do here. I recommend that you head home and reconsider your choice."
"You don't smell any drugs on him, right?" Tracy asks Cadena, just in case the dog missed them before.
The student shakes his head. "If I could afford to turn down a job, would I be driving a G-Motors junkheap? Saw an advertisement for hackers on the freenets, deciphered the address, came up..." He gestures skyward. "In nosebleed territory, yaknow?"
Cadena tries to ever-so-subtly get a sniff, now that he's recovered from a nose-full of fumes, then looks to Tracy and quietly shakes his head in the negative.
Jason looks up at this. "Hacker, eh? Can you give me the information you recovered?" he asks, paused in his work. "Or ... give me a way to contact you once you're done with the 'interview'. I ... dabble in hacking myself. So, I always like to know what is up in the net. I don't need the job, I just like to be aware. I would consider that payment enough for fixing your bike." A few more twists of wire and then he closes up the compartment.
"No drugs," Cadena whispers, drawing closer to Tracy while Jason keeps the pilot engaged. "I'm guessing he's from Old City or the Factory area by the smell of his clothes."
Mike nods still nervous. "Sure. I'll give you a heads up." He brings up his PDA and offers a file transfer.
"Wow.. do Jason's clothes smell the same then to you?" Tracy whispers to the dog.
"RIU, receive broadcast," Jason thinks as he gets to his feet. "Word of warning. The people up here aren't averse to putting a bullet through your head since you're from down below. Be careful. If this really is a hack job, well ... you might be considered a liability later," he tells Mike.
Cadena gives Tracy a canine shrug, and whispers, "He smells of the sorts of chemicals I would associate with a workshop dealing in electronics and light machines. There's nothing so distinctive as to hint as to where the workshop is, however. I'm not that good."
The file gets transferred and safely stored in a holding area for unvetted data. Mike salutes. "Good meetin' a fellow on the net," he says gratefully.
"You're good to go," Jason says as he hands back the multi-tool. He actually salutes the kid, then steps away from the bike.
"Good.. fortunes," Tracy offers, stepping back as well.
The white dog keeps pace with Tracy, and is especially mindful for any sudden bursts of fumes.
Mike hops back onto his G-Motors Commuter. Smoke belches from its tailpipes, and then it's off again.
The Gloaming advertisement zeppelin drifts by, on its way to share its message with more of the suburban dwellers.
"He'll be dead in a week," Jason tells Tracy and her dog. "Can't say I didn't warn him."
"So why not report him to CERT, let them scare him off or something?" Tracy asks.
The white dog gives the parting hacker-wannabe a forlorn look, as the hover-bike disappears into the traffic.
"I'm not the police," Jason tells Tracy as he attempts to hail a cab. Still, as gruff as that sounds, Jason asks RIU to forward a copy of the file to his home system and another over to Randall in case he wants to follow up on it.
"So.. need help with anything?" Tracy digs, before Jason can vanish. "Anything I can help with, I mean?"
The green taxi just down the way pops open the passenger doors. "Hey! You guys need a ride?" calls the driver, leaning out his window.
"Maybe. You can let me scan your dog," Jason remarks, half-in the taxi, "And you have to get to work on your program, don't you? I'm sure I can find something."
"Great!" Tracy says, and piles into the cab as well, then calls to Cadena.
The taxi ride is uneventful, asides from Cadena sticking his head out the window and catching a face full of wind. This fortunately does not result in airborne doggies.
"You guys are crazy, but I like you guys," the taxi driver says as he drops them off. "You want me, just call my company, ask for Manuel, I give you half off."
"We'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the ride," Jason says as he pays the driver.\
"Thanks, Manuel!" Tracy says, and waves as well.
The white dog makes a quick circuit, sniffing, looking and listening, taking gauge of his new, and interesting surroundings.
Manuel thumbs-up, then lifts off. "Hi-ho, Silverrr!" Once it's at a safe height, the taxi fires up its engines and zooms away.
"You have caused me a lot of problems," Jason tells Tracy and he heads towards the door. "This suit of yours ... I'll have to deal with that Desoto fellow regardless. I ought to make you help test my bullet-proof vest." At the door he has to go through six different security codes, a retinal scan, a fingerprint scan, a voice-print verification, and even a footprint verification, before the front doors unlock.
"You want me to shoot at you?" Tracy asks, innocently.
"No, I was going to shoot you," Jason remarks as he walks into his building and heads straight for the lab.
Cadena keeps just a little closer to Tracy.
"Keep up, Caddy," Tracy tells her companion, and hurries after Jason. "If you take me out for dinner, I'll let you shoot me. Why waste the one time you're actually cleaned up?"
A standard household robot with its head molded to resemble a kitsune, dressed in a kimono, looks up as Jason enters. Not that it actually needed to, but it's part of its 'social behavior' programming. Today its kimono is patterned in sky blue with cartoonily bulbous gray jet planes streaking across the sleeves.
Jason leads the menagerie in. He pulls his coat off and drapes it on Kimon's head as he passes the kitsune-shaped computer system. Nevermind that RIU was half-stuffed in one of the pockets. "For a dog you claimed talks ... he's rather quiet," he notes.
Cadena trots over to the coat and sniffs at the pockets.
Kimon, well trained in how to handle this, removes the trenchcoat from its head, then pauses. The squirming pocket does not match its programming. RIU solves the problem by jumping out... Right onto Cadena's head. BEEP!
"He talks when he has something to say," Tracy claims. She offers her wind-breaker to the robot as well.
The white dog's ears flatten, and eyes squint, but he tolerates the head-rider.
Kimon obediently puts both Jason's coat and Tracy's away.
"You're also rather lucky that I was able to shut that suit down when I did. Its last wearer has nude photos on a web site because of it. A site that even gives me a problem in breaking into," Jason notes as he unlocks the lab doors (my this building has a lot of locks).
"There you are, RIU!" Tracy says. "You play nice with Cadena. He doesn't have any bad habits yet."
RIU winds around Cadena's head until it's perched comfortably on his back. It shakes its head, then its body, and finally its tail, then sits up properly. Beep!
Cadena trots at a careful pace over to catch up with Tracy, so as not to dislodge his rider.
"Well, that's why I don't use the showers at the gym," Tracy tells Jason. "I'm a little bummed that I may never get to really try it out before having to give it up now though." Once they reach the kitchen, the girl checks to see if there's a mess or not.
"As I said, there's a month before it absolutely has to go back. A replacement is possible, just not safe to get," Jason notes, "Which unfortunately means I have to accelerate some of my plans." The kitchen is in its usual semi-messy state.
"Plans?" Tracy asks, as she detours to start cleaning up some of the mess. "You already had plans for the suit?"
RIU sniffs at Cadena's collar, then scampers around to admire the big shiny blue centerpiece of it.
"Not for yours," Jason remarks. "Now, Cadena, is it? What exactly are you?" he asks the odd canid.
The white dog breaks from patiently withstanding RIU's investigation, to look askance to Tracy, cocking one ear.
Tracy wonders about what other suit Jason means, but focuses on cleaning dishes for the moment. Her own kitchenette is too small for a dishwasher, so she's used to this.
The dog pauses, looks askance ... looks askance again ... then perhaps finally realizes that looking askance is perhaps just a bit too subtle, as he trots over and noses Tracy's leg.
RIU clings to Cadena upside down as he moves!
"You can talk to him, Cadena; it's okay," Tracy says. "Besides, he's scanned me and it didn't hurt or anything."
"Ah, the kind that doesn't talk to strange men," Jason concludes when a reply isn't immediately forthcoming. "Well, I'm used to that. Anyway, you're welcome to use my desk in the lab to work on your costume model, Tracy. I'll be occupied in the center. I've only got a few days now before I might need this working completely."
"My apologies, sir," Cadena says at last. "I am not yet accustomed to Tracy's preferences, so I wanted to be absolutely certain before I displayed any behavior that might be considered out of the norm."
RIU scuttles around to the topside of Cadena, peering down at him suspiciously as if to say he talked!
"It's a good thing I brought my chipware with me," Tracy says, patting her purse. She watches RIU and grins, setting the last plate in the drying rack. "Let's go see the mad scientist lair!"
Jason stops midway through the lab doors. "Oh, well ... first rule is ... we're all abnormal here," he notes. "And before you wonder ... no, there is nothing between Tracy and myself outside of she just needed someone to talk to about the Fracture incident. Her parents' won't discuss it with her."
"I sympathize," Cadena says. "There is a great deal that I do not know, that I suspect might be relevant to my new duties."
"All super-heroes need teen-aged sidekicks, after all," Tracy comments.
"There's no such thing as super-heroes," Jason remarks as the conversation moves into the main lab.
RIU glides up to perch on Kimon's head as the robot follows them, the better to keep an eye on what's going on.
Cadena inspects the surroundings a little more freely, now that he hasn't a rider to be mindful of.
Tracy heads for the desk, slipping a metal case from her purse. She sits down and pops open the case, taking a blue chipware stick from it and slotting it into the desk interface. The VR sculpting software is hardcoded into the built-in processor to prevent piracy - or at least prevent piracy for those who don't have systems powerful enough to perform the necessary hardware emulation.
"The good news is the Fracture has been quiet. I do tend to keep watch on ground zero as much as I can," Jason says as he heads over to one of the myriad of tables, moves some junk around, then hits a buried button. "But, that doesn't mean there aren't mundane issues that are just as unpleasant. Irongrip Security is one of those problems ... the dreg gangs are another. At least in terms of those that involve Tracy. I've got my own issues to sort out." There's a loud clunk, then a hiss as pneumatic motors kick into action. Two five-foot by five-foot chunks of the floor lift up and slide to the side. The sound that follows that is vaguely reminiscent of an old-style elevator.
"I've never seen that before," Tracy notes, watching the floor while bringing up her holo-sculpt program with quick hand gestures.
"If I might ask," Cadena inquires, "what sort of construct is your small companion? It has a very impressive cloaking ability, particularly considering the irregular surfaces of its form."
The tiny dragon looks smug. It can tell when it's being complimented.
The lift that comes out bears what looks for all intents and purposes like an exploded robot. Though ... something seems a bit off on it. It's not been dismantled, though. It's actually opened itself up by what appears to be dozens of small pistons connecting to overlapping bits of primered dull metal plating. This exposes band after band of synthetic myomer muscles interconnecting along its internal skeletal structure, though that structure implies that even when closed up it would be 'hollow'. "He's an Avatar. Just like from the game. He came back with me through the Fracture four years back," Jason explains as he grabs some tools from one of his tables. "Bio-organic, best I can make out. He's hard to classify as he defies common science. We share a neural bond so that even though he can't talk like you can, I can make out his emotions easily enough over the link."
"Is that what it looks like?" Tracy asks when the suit is raised up. "My mom would totally leave my dad for you if it was." She's got her mirror-shade VR goggles on, but they're set transparent at the moment.
"I am not familiar with 'Fracture,'" Cadena says apologetically, watching the curious machinery, "or with this particular model. I am afraid that my training did not really cover much about the other field-tested beta models - only the barest general overview of Avatars game lore, since a 'full immersion' play-acting role wasn't part of my assignment."
"It depends on what you think it is," Jason remarks to Tracy. "As for the Fracture ... basically about four years ago one of Avatar's AI's went rogue, the White. It began a plan to merge its reality with ours through the use of the quantum cores that powered the game. Myself, Randall, and Holly ended up trapped in that virtual world. In fact, we nearly died there. It was ... well, nightmare doesn't do it justice. We managed to escape ... then the White broke the bonds between its world and ours ... at the former theme park out in California. It was ... touch and go, but we managed to shut it down before the rift spread. That's the Fracture, condensed version."
"And one of the humans involved tried to kill me and my dad, too," Tracy adds, since she figures Cadena needs that information too.
"A few good things came out of it, though," Jason adds as he starts tinkering on one of the joints in the lift. "RIU, my friend and companion. We saved a young woman named Akiko and her Avatar as well. You may have heard of her avatar, actually. Inari ... the musician."
"That ... is a lot of information that I will have to process," Cadena says, turning to Tracy. "Your mother did not ... brief me on such ... details?"
"It was awhile ago, and not likely to still be a threat," Tracy tells Cadena. To Jason she says, "It's a powered suit of some kind, right?"
The white dog seems to be deep in thought over this, and curiously regards RIU with renewed interest.
RIU looks back at Cadena innocently. It blinks its large blue eyes.
"Yep," Jason admits as he tinkers with one of the points where the 'muscle' bundles connect. "I started this project a few weeks after things calmed down back then. The whole experience made me realize how vulnerable I was. It's also really frustrating to watch your friends nearly die and feel helpless to do anything. Most of it is salvage from military vehicles and old robots. I've had the time to select the parts that still worked to specification, at least."
"That is quite an impressive construction to be built primarily from salvage," Cadena says, nodding approvingly.
"I built robots for years beforehand," Jason explains as he grabs a rag to wipe down his wrench. "Similar concept. Plus my time in the diadem of worlds made me consider alternate ways to do things. Nothing like fixing an impossible ship to challenge you to do the impossible back home. Besides, it gave me something to focus on. Helped me recover."
Cadena gets a distant look in his eyes for a moment, nodding slowly. "Ah yes. I never answered your question from earlier."
Tracy remembers what she's doing, and transfers data from her program to the desk system, and fires up the mister for the holo display. She throws her wireframe from Jason's scan onto it, then overlays the first 'skin' - which looks pretty much like herself, except that the hair is longer, straighter and shiny black, and the eyes are yellow. She's dressed in a long leather trenchcoat, leather pants and a leather corset, with lots of brass fiddly-bits, extra belts and buckles, big buttons and a holstered pistol that looks retro-futuristic. She runs another process, which starts removing elements that can't be simulated by the sneaksuit's short-range holographic system, thus losing the coat and pistol.
"I'm an artificial biological construct," the white dog explains. "I'm a beta for a planned program in 'real world' Avatar companions. I am modeled after the 'White Cadena' Avatar type from the game - 'Cunning' and 'Metal Element' type - but since it appears that I am the only one of my variety in the beta field-testing, I am known simply as 'Cadena.'"
"So, you're making a wearable tank in case reality starts to fall apart again?" Tracy asks.
"So, an attempt to replicate RIU or Mara, then?" Jason asks of Cadana, "The only two Avatars to survive. Well, there's Inari too, but she's quite different for an Avatar, thanks to the ... eh, not important." Tracy's question gets a bit of a huff before he answers, "I'm building a wearable tank because certain people like to get me in trouble. Lets be honest, when you look at me the first thing that comes to mind is not 'intimidating', is it? I would be lucky to win a fight with a bowl of spaghetti. Plus living in Old Town it's only a matter of time before the gangs start to bother me."
"When you mentioned the neural interface," Cadena says, "and especially in light of the superior cloaking technology, I'll admit I was wondering whether 'RIU' was a rather more advanced model. The invasive methods necessary to establish a neural interface, I would find hard to imagine being a requirement for general commercial use."
"So you started building this before you ever really met me. Is it legal?" Tracy asks. She keeps working the virtual controls that only she can see through her glasses, and parts of the skin begins flashing, as the 'layers' are sorted for compiling into a suit skin.
"Oh, that. That's only because some many years back I had a feud with someone who, when they got the chance, dug around inside my head and left me a 'present' in the form of an experimental brain interface. It mainly had a kill switch, in case I ever became a problem. The Avatar system noticed this when we went through and decided to use it to better link me to RIU when he was created," Jason explains. "And as for legality of my project ... that's such a gray concept. I don't remember any laws that expressly forbid the use of 'enhancing technology' when defending your home."
"If I were my dad.. I'd find a loophole claiming it was a medical prosthesis of some sort," Tracy says. She wipes away the skin, leaving the wireframe, and puts up a new one: this time a humanoid panther. There are immediate issues, since the digitigrade legs intersect oddly with the wireframe legs.
Jason glances towards Tracy's work, then comments, "You do realize that Sasha's Avatar was a panther, don't you?" He shakes his head and gets back to work.
RIU peers at Tracy's work curiously. Beep?
"Not until after you showed me the recordings," Tracy grumbles. "I don't want to have to rebuild my entire VPC because of that." She makes some adjustments, and the trenchcoat and holster-belt appear on the feline, since those are likely to be real physical elements, along with the long hair. "At least now I know how I can help you with your project," she tells Jason with a grin.
"VPC?" Cadena asks curiously. "I was not aware that they had introduced new playable species into the Avatars game."
"I don't quite see how. This isn't the same as building virtual people," Jason notes. There's a loud crackle of blue and Jason ends up hopping backwards and shaking his hand. "Note to self, make sure the fusion battery is not installed while working," he grumbles.
"Ah, err.. actually it's for The Gloaming," Tracy admits to Cadena. "DanTech doesn't have the level of character AI that Avatars does, but they fixed that by making it player-vs-player and adding in shapeshifting."
Looking to Jason, Tracy remarks, "I know how the human body can move, however - better than you I bet. I can show you what degrees of motion you need in order to function, how much muscle control is required and where.. and probably how to move effectively when wearing it."
"And the hope of borrowing it, I imagine," Jason remarks to Tracy. "I've linked it to my implant, though. Should only work for me."
"Fascinating," Cadena says, as he walks about, examining the model. "I have somewhat limited experience with online virtual reality games in general, but I do have some equipment that is scheduled to be shipped to your apartment within the next few days, customized to my unusual characteristics. I would be happy to assist in any virtual model testing."
"Personally, I think VR games are a waste of time," Jason comments helpfully.
"That thing is way too bulky for me," Tracy notes. "I just want my sneaksuit. Anything heavier would slow me down." Hearing that Cadena comes with VR gear distracts her again. "You can help me test out my scapes then!" she says.
Cadena nods, tail wagging slightly. "I am to be helpful where I can."
Tracy smiles, then zooms in on the model's head, causing the panther face to become partly transparent. She then brings up a map of the sneaksuit's facial sensors, and another overlay of individual muscles.
"I suppose the plan of adding flight jets to it doesn't intrigue you, then," Jason quips. "I just have to get the gyro stabilizers able to cope with a fluctuating moment of inertia." He whacks some part of the suit with a hammer a few times. Apparently it isn't 'behaving'. "I hope you don't get too attached to that suit. Something has to happen with it before Irongrip causes real problems," he notes.
RIU pops up inside Jason's powered armor suit as if startled by the hammering, then winds around his arm to end on his shoulders.
The girl is busy concentrating on mapping human facial muscles to panther facial features, and adding weighted amplifiers to respond immediately. "Landing could be tricky," she notes. "But I'm sure you'll find me a replacement, Jason. I've got every confidence in your abilities.."
"Just realize if I die because of that sneaksuit, I'm going to send your mother all the pictures that suit took of you when you were trapped in it," Jason remarks rather flatly. "And next time it might be you up on that blimp instead of that obnoxious advertisement for that game. And I think by now you know I don't bluff ..."
"Why do you always try to blame me for everything," Tracy shoots back. "That suit is just as likely to kill you. In which case.. do I get all your stuff?" she then asks, smiling like a cat.
"Nope. RIU gets everything. He's cuter," Jason counters.