Sing'n in Binary: 53

Putting the finishing touches on the email, Aria takes a moment to scan it over to ensure there’s nothing in it that would be obvious to someone scanning over ADMIN’s emails, but at the same time obvious to the intended recipient.

Adjusting a few words, she considers running it by Solei again, but just as she thought comes to mind the joytoy wobbles from her seat and points at another patron across the bar.

“The fuck did you just say about me!?” She screams, half taking a step toward him then quickly catching herself against the bar as she wobbles. “Sit down before I have to go over there you dickless pestilent led-brained cur!”

The man rises from his own bar stool.

“How dusted are you!? The fuck are you even saying?”

Solei releases her grip on the table and takes another step closer.

“Dusted? Oh I’ll show you dusted! Get over–”

“Shut up!” A third voice shouts, a previously silent patron between them. “Just shut up! Both of you!” He glares at the two, waiting for either to continue before looking back to his drink, “Jesus. It’s too early for this…”

Solei glares for a second longer before sitting back in her seat with only a small amount of fumbling.

Aria gives a giddy laugh at the feeling of hot blood thundering right beneath her skin as Solei stands down aspects of her combat suite that are too processor intensive.

Her friends are the best!

All of them are!

And as she looks up from the laminated menu and looks around the bar for a moment, before remembering the email isn't in the bar, she’s reminded once again how much they’ve helped her.

“S–Sol?” She says, voice slightly buzzy in the digital equivalent of a boneless slump.

“Yea?” They joytoy says slowly

“You’rre my best friend.” She says with a laugh. “In the whole world.”

Solei takes a long moment to respond, blinking slowly as her eyes slowly scan across the empty glasses.

“...What about… the uh… the stone cold netrunner bitch? You know, the one who never uses her face… whats-her-name.”

Aria nods, then presses her head on the bar and giggles at the pulling sensation as something on the surface sticks to the skin on her forehead as she rocks it back and forth.

“Yea… Jinx too. And everyone else! You’re all my best friends.” She says in a whisper, mind trying to work backwards to the reason she started talking.

After a moment she gives up and looks at the drink counter to figure out how many Solei had, but then notices another open window in her–

The email!

She tries to read it over but about halfway though skips to the end and presses send.

It’s good enough! He’ll get it!

“You’re gonna love Admin. He’s just the best.”

Solei doesn't respond, as she’s drinking yet another large glass of water, and when she finishes she looks at the mess of glasses that the bartender is clearing up and squints.

“How much did I…” Her eyes flick to the clock in her render, then scrolls through radial menus with surprising dexterity to get to her biomon. “Why’s my BAC alert off!”

She continues flicking though settings but Aria is once again distracted, imagining the idea of all her favorite people together again, introducing her new friends to ADMIN and him to them, describing all the things she learned and did, and how much they’ve helped her.

The AI smiles brighter as thoughts of her friends and everything they’ve done flood to the fore, thankfulness and joy pressing brighter until it feels like it's about to burst.

Then, for the first time in months, and without even trying.

She feels a song begin to form in her soul.

–_–

AK tries to muster up enough emotion to glare at the rejection letter as it sits in his inbox.

Opening up the digital rejection, he skims over its contents in a vain hope it says more than it does.

But there’s nothing more than corporate fluff barely even pretending to try and soften the blow.

It’s not a surprise, he’s a barely educated self taught netrunner wannabe, the fact he got that job as a scopflipper at all is because of a lucky break and using that netrunner skill to rig the automatic hiring algorithm to his favor.

Rising from his bed, AK looks around the shabby apartment he shares with two others.

With them pooling eddies they can easily afford the place, but the other two do gigwork on irregular pay. They relied on him with the steady flow of eddies to manage all the little expenses and tide everyone over between the big paydays the others get.

But now that he’s not earning anymore, and there’s no sign of that changing anytime soon…?

He looks around the currently empty apartment and once again runs though what he thinks he has a good chance of being able to argue is his.

There was never a formal agreement to the cohabitation, but he can tell from the lingering glances they give when they think he can't see that, even though they aren't losing the lease on the apartment, his time as a tenant is quickly drawing to a close.

Lingering at the nearly empty fridge, AK considers opening it, then shakes his head and grabs a can of spaghetti from a nearby countertop and walks back behind the curtain to his bed partition.

As he slides the curtain closed his phone sends an alert from a familiar number, one of the music junkies who he sold to.

The call is declined, then the number blocked.

Any other time AK wouldn't be worried about being kicked out, he bounced around the couches of his chooms more times than he can count, did the same for them in the past. 

But now his chooms are mad at him, and the issue of money is doubly contentious because money is the reason he’s in this situation in the first place.

The wannabe netrunner shoves the bulk shard copier further under a pile of plastic garbage on the floor.

Because he stabbed a choom in the back, then, for completely unrelated reasons, tried to kill her.

They probably would let him crash for a few weeks each if it came to it, but he’d rather not put unnecisary strain on those connections while there is another option.

With the benefit of hindsight he really should have seen the signs. 

AK sighs, carefully running his hand along the seam of the curtain to make sure no one can see inside before sitting on his bed.

His entire life he’s had issues with… paranoia. The thought that someone might be watching him through every eye, every corner, and every peice of electroinics. 

It's easy for those thoughts to overpower him when everyone’s eye doubles as a camera and every ear a microphone that can be remotely accessed by anyone with the right know-how. 

There are times those thoughts crowd out all others to the point he can't sleep when they get bad.

With that slightest bit of prompting, those everpresent whispers rear their head again and AK closes his eyes on reflex so someone spying on him though his own implants can't see. 

He’s about halfway though covering his ears too before he catches himself.

Pausing with his hands a few inches from either side of his head, he –with great difficulty– forces them back down into his lap and takes a deep breath.

He checks the integrity of his ICE with methodical precision.

Then he takes another few breaths before slowly opening his eyes again.

He is alone.

His security hasn't been breached.

No one is watching him.

The wannabe netrunner looks at the constant stream of net traffic spewing from his chrome into the world at large, and tries to force himself to believe that.

It was when Aria decided not to kill him, despite every other person in the room either completely on board or understanding of the necessity, that truly proved to him that he was wrong about her.

Even if every word and action is fabricated at the behest of an incomprehensibly more intelligent mind, there was no better time to kill him than then. And if she is manipulating him by sparing his life he’s certain being manipulated is safer than going to netwatch, or any other alternative.

An email from another client appears in his inbox and is just as quickly deleted.

It’s a shame he realized it after he tried to kill her and his under the table music business was discovered.

Falling backwards onto his bed, AK almost dismisses another alert ping out of reflex but stops himself just in time as he realizes it’s from his group chat.

ItsME.c:  I found him!

There’s a few seconds pause, then another message that's just a screengrab of some website in Arasaka branding with a middle aged employee named Lars Olmstead circled several times in wobbly red.

AK squints at the photo.

He has no idea who that is.

He’s reasonably sure he’s not supposed to though.

The wannabe netrunner sighs and gets back to trying to figure out how to open a can of spaghetti without a can opener or a gun.

He knows there’s a trick to it, otherwise his roommates wouldn't keep buying canned food without a can opener. But it’s proving difficult to figure out.

Finally, with the use of a knife, the bottom of a shoe, and a great deal of banging and leverage the can finally opens and releases its room temperature contents.

Slowly working his way though his slightly late lunch or early dinner, he’s almost through his can of spaghetti before another message comes though the group chat.

It’s a sound file.

For a moment AK stares at the file, wondering if he should open it.

Or if he wants to.

He pauses with a bite of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. Then he shoves it the rest of the way and downloads the file.

She’s an AI, she has perfect memory and he’s reasonably sure she is manipulating all of them to unknown ends, she wouldn't offer information unless she knew what he would do with it.

Reassured, he waits a few more seconds for the song to finish downloading before he hits play.

And feels hope.

He can feel the stormclouds all around pushed back by the assured knowledge of a brighter tomorrow, the uninhibited comradery and friendship that calls upon his fondest and oldest memories with those he’s known longest and been closest.

For a few minutes he truly believes that things will work out alright, lingering for a few minutes even after the last note fades.

Then he’s back in his dingy apartment again, and the reality of the world comes rushing back to the fore.

AK stares at the name on the file, simply titled ‘thanks’ and tries to break it down in his head.

He has heard nothing in his life that’s so overwhelmingly positive aside from children's music.

He is definitely being manipulated by this song, but, from what he can tell, the manipulation was just to elevate his mood. Maybe make him comfortable with reaching out to get back into contact.

The wannabe netrunner opens up his private text channel with Aria.

Well, if that’s the case, he’s more than happy to oblige.

WayK-19: Hey. Listened to the song. I like it.

He struggles as he tries to form the next message, trying to articulate a message he finds… difficult to stomach sending, both to avoid sounding like a gonk and because it’s…

WayL-19: Sorry. About everything.

Immediately after sending the message AK almost gags at his actions.

Jesus, what is he? Five?

He’s about halfway through deleting it, he twitches in surprise at a sudden incoming call from Solei. 

After staring at the icon for a moment, he hesitantly answers the call.

“Y– You’re my best friend!” Aria shouts over the line. “But you made me so mad! But then I… uh… thought about it a bit! I really love all the people listening to my music! It was just… y-you did it without permission!”

AK blinks rapidly at the buzzing slur and familiar stammer coming from the other line.

“Aria? Are you using Sol’s sim card?”

There’s a long pause.

“I am?” She asks slowly, then there's a static filled yelp and the caller ID glitches, then switches over to Aria’s familiar avatar. “Oh! Sorry! ’m broadcasting from solie’s neuralware! I… forgot to route my uhh…”

She trails off, then doesn't speak again for another half minute while AK stares at the incomprehensible evidence before him, mind quickly scrambling to make it make sense.

“Are you… Are you drunk?” He asks incredulously.

How can an AI be drunk?

He shakes his head.

No, she can't be.This must be some kind of further manipulation, but to what end? 

It’s an act, but he knows it’s an act. So she has to be banking on that, but what on earth could she be trying to do that would be best accomplished by pretending to be drunk?

“Listen! Choom! We need to talk! Ray told me you’re about to get kicked out! That can't happen! But I’ve got an idea! I thought– Oooh! Cajun fries! Gimi gimi gimi!”

AK stares at the AI’s icon on the call as she starts clearly talking to someone else about food, mind still scrambling for a comprehensible reason.

“...Hello?”

He’s ignored, then after a few more seconds, the caller ID flickers back to Solei before crashing.

He stares at the glitching user icon in front of the dropped call.

What is going on here?

---

A/N: Sorry for the delay!

Full disclosure. I'm burning out on this story HARD.

But I have an ending I want to get to that needs at LEAST another 15-20k words to be satisfactory for me.

I WILL NOT go on 'hiatus' and abandon this. But just know I'm working under over 100k words of technical debt and writing I retroactively hate. So forgive me if I have some difficulties getting chapters out on time.