She noticed Chaney staring at her and flashed him a smile.
“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I was mesmerized by your waitstaff.”
The bartender placed their drinks down, then moved to stand back by the bar.
Like a good little robot.
“It doesn’t disturb you?” Chaney asked.
“No,” Salvi shook her head, eyeing the barman again. “I was surprised, yes, but this doesn’t disturb me. This is the freedom I speak to in my art.” She looked back at Chaney. “People shouldn’t be ashamed of being who they want to be or asking for what they want.”
“That’s what the Ceiling is all about.”
Salvi sipped on the metallic straw in her drink, watching as strawberries bobbed around in the bubbles.
“Do you like?” he asked her, motioning to the drink.
“It’s good,” she said. A little too good, she thought. She needed to drink slowly or water these down if she was going to stay upright all night. She didn’t have Bronte here to watch her back.
“We only have the best here. It’s what the clientele demand. Best ingredients, best staff, best surroundings.” He ushered her toward the open lounge area.
They passed a table where two attractive young men sat. They looked to be early twenties, one dark blond, the other dark-haired. The blond one raised his drink to Chaney.
“Good evening, Lance,” he said, smiling, running his eyes quickly over Salvi, before offering her a nod of hello. She nodded back.
“You having a good night?” Chaney asked him, as he moved past.
“As always,” he said.
Chaney found a table and motioned for Salvi to sit.
“You must be popular with your patrons,” she said, taking the seat.
“You could say that. We get all kinds here, but the one thing they all are is respectful.”
“Do you ever get any unusual demands?” she asked with a cheeky smile.
“People don’t demand here. They ask. They pay a premium membership fee, but at the end of the day they won’t get this service, this kind of space, anywhere else.” He sipped his drink and smiled. “We do have unusual patrons, but confidentiality means if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Salvi stared at him, a slight smile on her face, wondering just how true that was. “Wow, you really do go above and beyond for your guests.”
She looked around and tried not to stare when she recognized the patrons entering the Ceiling. A big-time music artist sauntered along with one of the highest earning models in the world.
“Wow,” Salvi said to Chaney. “I feel a little under par now.”
He grinned. “Not everyone can look like her. And not everyone wants to be with her, either.”
“I can’t see why not,” she gave a sly smile. “Even I would probably tap that.”
Chaney laughed.
She glanced around again, and noticed a woman pulling back the veiled curtain of a private booth and heading toward the bathroom. Salvi noticed neural devices glinting at her temples beneath her hair.
“So how do you stay out of trouble with people openly wearing neural tech here? I mean, you have your confidentiality, but how can you be so sure?”
“They’re not doing anything illegal,” he said and sipped his drink. “They’re wearing tech, not using it. I can’t exactly rip it off them now, can I?”
“I guess not. So they can’t connect in here?”
“We have connectivity on secure channels, but not for neural tech. We’d be closed down in a second.”
“So people just like to wear it, huh?”
He nodded. “Why the interest?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged and sat back in her chair contemplatively. “I think that’s my one regret from before The Crash, you know. Part of the inspiration behind my work, Tech-Tronic. I tried just about everything but the neural tech. Now I’ll never get the chance.”
“You never tried it?” he seemed surprised.
She shook her head. “I’d been meaning to, but then The Crash happened, and…” she shrugged.
“And you still want to, given what happened?” he asked.
She smiled. “Don’t we all want what we can’t have?”
He laughed. “Well, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Oh, I have the will,” she smiled, then glanced back as the woman made her way inside her veiled section again. “I heard people can connect direct to the VR rooms with those things. Is that true?”
“Apparently. We have VR booths down the corridor, so they don’t need the tech for that.”
She smiled. “I’ve had fun in U-Stasis before. You tried it?”
He nodded. “It’s not my thing.”
“No? What is?”
“Why have virtual sex when you can have the real thing?”
“Yeah, but not everyone can. Some people don’t have time or find it hard to meet people. I mean, I gotta admit, it’s alright. I tried it,” she lied. She’d been inside U-Stasis with Mitch, of course, but they’d been working their last case at the time, not playing around. “But I agree, it’s not the same thing.”
“Why enter someone else’s program when you can create your own? I guess that’s the benefit of neural tech. The world is real, the tech just enhances the experience.”
“That sounds interesting… And exciting.”
His eyes shone back at hers, but he said nothing.
She looked back to the veiled section the woman disappeared behind. “So where would I go to… have an enhanced experience?”
“You really want to try it?”
She nodded. “Overturn my one regret? Sure. Imagine what art that would inspire.” She studied him curiously. “You ever tried it?”
“Back when it was legal. Sure.”
“I feel so sheltered,” she pouted.
“You were hanging in the wrong circles.”
“Clearly.” She finished her drink, picked up a strawberry between her fingers and took a sensual bite. “So,you haven’t tried it since?”
“Are you asking me to implicate myself in illegal, sordid behavior?”
She chuckled. “Sordid? What, were you fucking animals or something?”
“Not my thing.”
“Children?”
He shook his head. “If I knew anyone doing either of those things, I’d hand them over to the cops myself. Confidentiality be damned.”
She ate the last strawberry, eyeing him seductively. “So… I think you know where I can try some enhancement of my own, but you’re not sharing. That’s a little selfish.
