Beth couldn’t help but stare at a couple locked in a close dance out in the center of the room. The man wore a mohawk, but it gleamed of holographic light rather than gelled-up hair. The lights changed color to match the many bands of illumination that made up his baggy clothing. He leaned in and licked the neck of his dance partner, who leaned her head back in ecstasy. She was short and squat with full lips in ivy green lipstick. Her makeup glowed in the same fashion the man’s clothing did, and even matched the color scheme. In fact, Beth noticed, the color changed to match the beat itself.
She couldn’t help but wonder if they were humans immersed in their implants, I.I.s who lived in environments constructed much the same way the nightclub was, or just artificial. A lot of simulations all over the Cloud were populated with millions and millions of unique computer characters. Most were easy to see through after a brief conversation, but some were lovingly crafted to mimic humanity so closely that it gave Beth the willies. She didn’t feel inclined to go ask each dancer and find out, so she took her drink and walked farther into the club.
The strobing lights were enough to give anyone a headache, if they were actually made of real light. However, they only provided an obstacle for Beth as she made her way around a fighting couple and a few guys watching.
That’s when she saw him.
Beth stopped in her tracks and looked away before Simon Mendez had seen her.
She was certain it was him. If not, someone deliberately altered their own online persona to look just like the fugitive, for some reason she couldn’t understand. No, that wasn’t it. A lot of people preferred to go online exactly as they are in the real world, even if they’ve been dead for a while. They felt more natural in their birth bodies, so they chose to interact digitally through them. It seemed that Simon was no different.
Aside from the neon Día de los Muertos style skull makeup he wore, he looked exactly like all the images Beth had seen in her research. He was a thin, rather short Latino man with a bit of stubble around his chin. His hair was cut short, nearly into a buzz cut. His jaw seemed to protrude a little, like he had a wad of gum tucked under his lower lip.
Beth heard the fugitive laugh and turned to look. He seemed to be talking with a blonde girl in a crop top — and nothing else. There was something about his body language that made him appear drunk. He slurred his words and his head seemed to loll a little, as if the hinges in his neck weren’t on tight enough.
She noticed another man with similar makeup sat on the couch beside Simon. She wasn’t sure who he was or if he was even a friend to her target, but she didn’t have much time to think about it.
While she was looking at the man next to him, Simon caught a glimpse of the detective in the corner of his eye. His smile was still winding down from his boisterous laugh, but as soon as they locked eyes, it vanished.
He’s seen me, Beth realized. And he knows who I am.
As if confirming her thoughts, the young Latino man bolted up from his seat, knocking over everyone’s drinks as he did so. The woman made an upset gasp as her martini fell over her front, then broke on the ground.
Simon froze for a second, locked in a pre-pounce pose. Beth braced herself, squaring her shoulders and raising her hands.
Instead, he bolted. He pushed over an older gentleman and sprinted around the bend in the bar.
“Shit!” Beth cried to herself as she started to run after her quarry.
She lost sight of him within seconds. However, the sounds of upset patrons and breaking glass allowed the detective to hunt Simon through the crowds and strobing lights.
She made it to the other side of the enormous circular bar when she spotted Simon’s signature makeup again. He was bowling his way through a caravan of arriving customers as he made his way out of the front door. The bouncers who had just taken the new guests I.D.s were too stunned to react. Plus, they weren’t too concerned about unruly folk leaving the bar.
“Stop!” Beth yelled after Simon. “I’m an officer of the law and I am ordering you to stop!”
“Fuck off!” Simon spat back at her, jumping down the small flight of stairs that led up to the club’s entrance.
She followed him down the sidewalk as he pushed past curious onlookers, both human and artificial. Some people yelled at them from their vehicles to watch where they were going, but Beth drowned them out. She became focused. Simon was locked into her center of vision and everything else was moot. She dodged a newspaper stand as she rounded the corner. It seemed Simon had stumbled a little because she was right on his tail.
“I’ll stun you if I have to!” she cried, retrieving her sidearm from its holster. “It’s not real, but it’ll hurt like hell!”
“Leave me alone!”
Simon threw a trashcan down on the sidewalk in an attempt to stall her, but in his haste, threw it too far out into the street. A car honked in reply.
Once they were on a street without an intersection or alley for at least another hundred yards, Beth stopped. She concentrated on her breathing and stilled it as fast as she could. As she exhaled, she raised her weapon, aimed, and fired.
Simon froze up like he was struck with a bolt of lighting. His extremities
