Salvi turned around and viewed the plush open-plan floor of the apartment before her. It had been a hive of activity when they’d first arrived, as a staging crew finished decorating it in line with their covers. Exotic digital art now hung on the walls, and here and there were football trophies and images of Bronte’s face expertly superimposed on footballer’s bodies.
“Alright,” Kara said, entering as the last of the stagers departed. She lay down an armful of wardrobe supplies. “Salvi, wear this dress tonight,” she pointed to a neon green number. “Bronte, these pants, this shirt, only button it halfway, show some chest. Got it?”
“Well, now I feel like a piece of meat,” he said dryly.
“That’s exactly what you are, honey. Bait on a hook.”
Bronte grunted as he took his clothes and vanished into his allocated bedroom. Salvi held up her dress in study.
“Is this the whole thing?” she asked.
Kara smiled. “Get dressed, detective.”
Salvi pulled the hem of her dress down as far as it would go, which was only upper thigh. She sighed and stared at her heavily made-up face in the bathroom mirror.
“I do not feel comfortable chasing bad guys in this,” she said, stepping back out into the apartment’s living area where Kara and Bronte waited.
Bronte whistled, but it turned into a chuckle as he saw Salvi’s unimpressed face.
“You’re not chasing the bad guys,” Kara said, moving toward her. “The point is for them to chase you.” Salvi turned away to look at herself in the arty full-length mirror on the wall. The dress had a wide, low cut chest area, but it was at least covered in a bright green neon mesh that offered her some modesty. The short skirt had a split up the side that went all the way to her hipbone. She longed desperately for one of her suits as Kara dropped a pair of sky-high heels on the floor beside her.
Salvi looked at the shoes then at Kara with a flat stare.
“Relax,” Kara said, “you need to make an entrance. We want you to be noticed and we want people to want to get to know you. The only way you’ll go up the floors is if they want to take you away from everyone else and keep you for themselves.” Kara straightened the top of Salvi’s dress. “Turn on the lights.” Salvi looked at her, confused, then at the apartments lights that were already on. “Inside,” Kara said, then fished her fingers down the front of Salvi’s dress. Suddenly neon lights that were built into the dress illuminated the wire mesh across her chest.
“Woah…” Salvi said.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Kara smiled. “Like I said, it’ll get you the attention you need.” She turned to Bronte and motioned him closer, “Come here.” Bronte moved to stand next to Salvi. He looked equally uncomfortable in his tight synthetic trousers that didn’t leave much to the imagination, and white collared shirt, unbuttoned to the top of his six pack.
“Hey!” Kara said, looking at them both. “You like this shit, remember?” motioning to the clothes. “You’re from LA, new to town and looking to meet some people to get down with. Open marriage and all that. Alright? Sex sells, and no place more so than in Floor to Ceiling. Now let’s get moving!” She walked off, slapping Bronte on the ass as she did. He gave her an unamused look, then turned back to Salvi.
She stared at him a moment then sighed. “We’re doing this for Caine, and to find the Chief’s daughter.”
Bronte’s face fell a moment and he nodded silently, before forcing himself to perk up again.
“Shall we?” he said, holding his hand out.
“I can’t wait,” Salvi said flatly.
As the autocab drove along the busy streets, Salvi looked out its windows and watched the city zoom past. While the sky above was dark now, the city was bright with neon lights and blinking LEDs. For the first time she noticed just how much of that light was made of Bio-Lume. Attis Solme was clearly making a lot of money off his product; off his free labor from the Subjugates and Serenes at the Complex. As the Bio-Lume-lit buildings passed by, she noted they had an other-worldly feel to them. She cast her mind back to her time at the Solme Complex; of the green glow that warmed its passageways, of the claustrophobic pipe she’d found herself in, swimming through the bacteria gel on her fight for freedom. She pictured Subjugate-52 covered neck to toes in the glowing neon green gel, lighting up the darkened factory like some radioactive man. Then she pictured the green glow upon his face, mixing with the red flashing light of his personal alarm as he stared at her.
“Pull us over, right here,” Bronte ordered the autocab.
Salvi glanced around but didn’t see the club. She looked at Bronte questioningly.
“We don’t want to look like this is planned,” he said. “Let’s make it seem like we stumbled on the place.”
She nodded, and they exited the vehicle. Standing on the sidewalk in her ridiculous heels and glowing mesh dress, she looked at the row of lights either side of the street. Bar after bar, club after club. Something for everyone.
They did their best to appear a little like tourists, looking around at everything as though it were new. Of course Salvi was subtly eyeing everyone on the streets as well, searching for signs of neural devices, for hints that anyone was souped-up on Fyte. Or Flyte… But what would someone look like on Flyte exactly?
Myki Natashi sprung to her mind, and she was sure now the Myki they’d found in that bed had been a Myki coming down from Flyte. Still, as she looked around now, she saw no one fitting that description. Perhaps it was too early. Perhaps it hadn’t spread that far and wide yet. It gave her hope they could stop this before it spiraled further.
They approached Floor to Ceiling.
