“And that means what to me?” Jacob asked.
“My high score. It’s wiped.”
“Well, play it and get the high score again.”
“He already did,” Sandy said.
“But the old score was my personal high score. My best ever.”
“You’re such a damn infant,” Gomez said.
“How’s your night going?” Two-Step asked Jacob, changing the subject.
“Not bad. A little over two hundred in credits. Some barter. Best of all, we will soon have one hundred Nokia flip phones,” Jacob said.
Gomez and Two-Step lit up.
“Nice,” Gomez said. “Who in the world got that many Nokia flippers?”
“Pigeon Eater.”
“Did the deal come with any pigeons?” Sandy asked.
“He tried.”
“All right,” Sandy said, “that’s enough business. I’m on break.” She turned to Jacob. “What went down at your PO?”
Jacob shot a quick look at Gomez and Two-Step.
Gomez stood. “Let’s go check out the club scene,” he said, slapping Two-Step on the back.
“But we just…”
“The club scene,” Gomez repeated.
“Oh, so they can be…”
“Let’s go,” Gomez cut him off.
Jacob watched Sandy watch them walk back into the club.
“That kid is, well, I’m not sure,” she said.
“He’s one of a kind.”
Sandy laughed and moved a strand of hair behind her ear. He liked it when she did that.
“So, your trip to the PO?”
“It’s all good. You’re looking at a free man.”
“What now?”
Jacob took his nic-stem out of his jacket. “I don’t know. We could run off together and elope.” He took a drag.
Sandy looked at her drink, silent.
Jacob exhaled.
“I’m kidding. I’m not the marrying type,” he said.
A half-hearted smile spread on Sandy’s face. “I told you, I need some time to think about things.”
“Classic brush-off line.”
“That’s not fair. I just need to figure out what I want. Not just with us, but with my life. I don’t want to run lights in this place, pulling off side jobs when I can, for the rest of my life.”
Jacob understood. Maybe today more than ever.
“I know how you feel,” he said.
Sandy reached across the table and took his hand. “Just give it some time. Things will work out the way they are supposed to work out. They always do, whether we like it or not. Things always end up where they are meant to.”
Jacob took his hand back. “I should get back to work,” he said.
Sandy closed her eyes and took a breath. Finally, she said, “Same.”
An hour later, Jacob left the club earlier than usual. The conversation with Sandy and a decent night flicking code gave him reason enough to part with Gomez and Two-Step and head home. Outside, his senses took a moment to adjust after leaving the lights and sounds of the club. The chill in the air felt refreshing after the hot, stale air inside. He stood under the club’s neon marquee and sent a mild shot of dopamine code to his chip, his first in three years. He let the code do its work and, like a soft summer breeze, euphoria spread from his head down his body. He stood in the neon glow and tilted his head slightly and smiled. Satisfied, he put the code deck in his pocket and started to his apartment.
The dopamine offered him some clarity, a clarity he needed at the moment. Not true clarity, he told himself, but he would take any form he could get. Across the street, The Galleria sat, its facade added to and mutated over the years until it barely resembled the old images Jacob had seen. A make-shift shanty village and a forest of portable cell towers occupied the roof, a web of stairs and cable lifts leading to it decorated the outside walls. Even at this hour, the web was alive with people climbing the same route they climbed yesterday, descending the same route they would descend tomorrow.
Jacob put his hands in his pocket and focused on the sidewalk directly in front of him. Just that area of changing sidewalk and nothing more.
“Jacob Quince?” a voice called, snapping him out of his trance.
Jacob stopped.
The voice came from a well-dressed man sitting in the backseat of an expensive, armored sedan. The man sat just far enough from the open window for the top half of his face to be in shadow.
“You are Jacob Quince, correct?” the man asked, only slightly coming into the light.
Curious and cautious, Jacob said, “I am.”
“Excellent. I would like to give you a ride to your apartment. I have a proposition for you.”
Chapter 7
The back seat of the sedan was more spacious than Jacob thought it would be, and the smell of the well-polished leather seats met him when he got in and shut the door. A solid divider with a speaker and a small video screen separated the back seat from the front cab. The man waiting in the backseat looked corporate and wore a suit made from a material embedded with nontech that sent a scrambling signal to surveillance cameras. Seeing the suit gave Jacob second thoughts about getting the car, but it also made him even more curious to find out what this man wanted with him.
“Nice suit,” he said, putting his backpack on the floor by his feet.
“Thank you. Are you familiar with the material?”
“I’ve read about it. It’s a bit out of my price range.”
The man nodded. “Well, we can talk about fashion another time. Let me introduce myself. My name is Johnson.” He held out his hand.
Jacob shook his hand and said, “I guess you already know my name.”
Johnson smiled smugly, and the sedan pulled away from the curb
“My place is just a couple of blocks. So what’s this about?” Jacob asked.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Quince,” Johnson said, “we can take our time. The driver knows where you live.”
Jacob took a quick look at the handle, making sure it was within easy reach, the euphoria of the dopamine code giving way to a mild paranoia.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Quince. I simply have a business proposition for you.”
“Jacob. Just call me Jacob.”
“Understood.”
Through the darkly tinted window, Jacob watched the turn leading to
