Boyband I sat in the back of the Techvax sky shuttle. Bank’s goons who had taken us from the interrogation chamber were also Finians, but of a much less impressive build. They say across from us, neither had human legs and each only had one human arm.
I could barely turn my head to look at Boyband with my neck held by my rigid collar. They had clothed us in black jumpsuits with violet light patterns throughout for some advertisement with Naoma. Though we would look impressive in the recording, the violet lines served to constrict us with less mobility than we had in the metal tables. Our individual fingers were held stiff. Only our heads moved.
I looked as far as I could to the right and saw Naoma sitting with Jackson and Bank through the dark partition. Bank had said that two more skyshuttles followed in tow with the film crew and Techvax representatives with plenty of additional armed guards. The guards would hold tight to the crew the entire time, while Boyband and I would be fully exposed to the fiends and hellish elements of the Red District.
I couldn''t fathom what that entailed. All I had heard about the Red District seemed the equivalent of horrifying myths used to terrify children into obedience. Even when I first arrived in the Republic, I only had to resort to dwelling in the Orange–with plenty of threats to be cast down to the Red. Orange was a wasteland with Yellow being a light-forsaken slum for society''s most hated outcasts.
The Red District contained fiends no longer worthy of being called humans. I suppose it was fitting for Deleon''s “Imps.”
Boyband remained mute since our departure. His view of the Blue had likely been my equivalent of the Orange. Half of me had wanted him to be humbled by the lowest district, but my other had matured. The kid did not deserve punishment for his affluent bias. His prejudice for the lower class had been bred into him, yet it was still mild compared to the vast majority of higher district heirs. I wanted to meet his parents to see how they compared. Living as SocStans, the former lower-class blue-collar workers, perhaps their views would be more tolerant than most privileged aristocrats. I would have made sure to meet them if we survived the Red District endeavors, but I never could. They had died alongside their son''s innocence.
Boyband was aging quicker than any kid his age. I experienced the degradation of his late teenage years alongside him. Perhaps he deserved to learn of my journey to becoming Deleon''s servant. I wanted to begin the extensive tale but would not in the presence of vindictive Finians who would mock my chain of unfortunate events.
Even if I shared my past, I would be alone in my experiences. Thoughts of distant family and friends-turned-enemies made me miss my light-forsaken home country. Even if I were to return, I would be shunned for what I had become and what I had done to reach this point.
I tapped into my neurospace, readying a socitab to dissolve my desecrated self-worth. If my neurospace had been blocked, at least I had the mercy of my addiction to turn to. It made me ever more distant from my current companion, but I needed the relief. The only thing that stopped me was a voice over the intercom.
“Destination approaching: Red District - Eastern drop station.” A sinking feeling in my stomach indicated the descent. It was smooth and controlled, but my heart was the opposite. My feelings of isolation dissipated as I heard Boyband’s heavy breathing at my side. Even though the kid was conceited and a narrow-minded braggart, none of my negativity towards him mattered anymore. He would make it out of this. I wouldn''t allow the opposite. There was no reason for him to suffer. He never made the choice to join Deleon. That was forced into his hypothalamus.
The partition lowered just a crack. Bank’s voice was still slightly muffled, but we could hear him well enough. “Fins, grab the handles on their backs when you exit. Don’t hesitate to squeeze the lightburner if they struggle to cooperate.”
“You got it,” one of them said.
The other nodded, then shook his head, realizing that Bank couldn’t see him. “On it.”
I could hear something moving below us as the intercom spoke again. “Please hold for landing. The doors will open automatically when safe.”
I barely noticed us touching the ground. I tried to stand upon instinct, but the light lines on the jumpsuit held me still.
The guards stood and approached us, both of their eyes remained on the back door of the skyshuttle.
My suit loosened around the neck in time for me to see the back door retract up like a garage door.
Beyond the steel frame of the skyshuttle, I saw an expansive darkness with faint red lights rising vertically. They appeared to be the rims of buildings, but my vision was dampened by the artificial white lights in the shuttle.
Bank approached from the side with Naoma and Jackson in tow.
The guards reached behind to grab the handles between our shoulder blades. I regained my mobility, but dared not risk much movement.
My hunger grew. Boyband’s could only be worse and it would grow more insidious by the minute.
As we stepped outside the vehicle, the other two skyshuttles landed to the left of ours. A group of six emptied out of one, five out of the other, many of them carrying a vast array of equipment. As they approached us I could see full-capture cameras and recording equipment ready to shoot whatever they had planned.
“Hold the excitement,” Bank said. “We still need our guests to find some fiends for us to use.”
The implications of his statement pressed dread into me, regardless of the definition. By no means would I be pleased to search the Red wasteland for jelly fiends, but if he referred to any other fiends, I could only fathom what hellspawn lurked in the crimson darkness.
The guards pressed us forward and the back of the skyshuttle shut, leaving us in the darkness of all but the few lamps of white light held by the film crew.
Bank walked over to speak with them, leaving the rest who had come in our shuttle to stare into the abyss.
Having often worked at night with only the blue lights of the Blue district to provide meager light, I was no stranger to the dark. Despite the red lights of the Red District being even weaker, I found that my night vision had improved drastically. Everything was still dark with a faint outline, as if I looked out under the light of a full moon, though it did not shine above us.
Deleon’s upgrade.
What it had meant to advance from violet to indigo in the anti-spectrum still left me with a vast array of unanswered questions. My vision had improved, my reflexes sharper, and my physique fortified were mere guesses as to what it all meant. My mind remained the same except for a haunting detail that visited me in dreams and the ghost of my peripheral vision.
A presence lurked with me. If I was not so skeptical, I would call it a ghost attached to my Bite. Even to a delusional junkie, it made no sense that a spirit was connected to my embedded technology.
Regardless, a humanoid swine lurked in the depths of my mind.
The horror of my self-perceived insanity was easy to forget as I saw the Red district more clearly.
I wondered what had caused this city’s fall, for it was an abandoned wasteland of dilapidated buildings and crumbling skyscrapers. Red light burst from broken fixtures, sparking like electric blood and shining upon the lurking horrors.
Humanoid figures patrolled the streets, though I feared to learn what they looked like up close. The Red District was not meant for humans. The poorest of the Republic''s citizens had the Orange District to call their own, even most of the criminal exiles. Only the cruelest criminals and monsters in the truest definition were said to occupy the Red. Glowing skeletons wandered in the distance. Lumps of flesh moved beneath the red light like slugs in pursuit.
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Bank returned with two members of the Techvax film crew. I tried to send Ralia a message and received the error that I expected.
The man and woman at Bank''s side were humans, at least in their appearance. As they came to sell, there was a fair chance that they were shacs or a similar android model. I had no need to trust them, so it didn’t matter to me either way. They wore dark clothing of your typical bureaucratic type with small lines of indigo light. Even though Techvax worked with Reef Records, they still had a ladder to climb.
“Boys,” Bank whispered and waved us closer.
Our captors pushed us forward without any time to act of our own accord.
“Are you listening?”
I nodded, then looked at Boyband. His gaze was stuck in the dark allure of the distance. Red light reflected in his dilated pupils. He bit his lip and quivered.
“Devóne!” I said in a forceful whisper.
He turned to me, but it did not feel like he was focused yet.
Hunger is a distracting shac.
“Look at him.”
He turned back to Bank, and I followed.
“Thank you. Now, we need to be delicate. If you two step out of line, you will be punished and forced to comply. Death is not an option for you. We cannot waste materials.”
“Agreed,” the woman at his side said.
“Agreed,” the man repeated.
Bank gestured to his companions. “These are the operative directors and marketing representatives from Techvax.” He looked at Jackson. “Anton, bring your girl over here.”
Jackson made sure his apprehension was visible in his sigh and walked over to our party with Naoma close by him.
“Show em’ the product,” Bank said.
The female rep removed a capped syringe from the messenger bag at her side and showed it to the group. “This is Techvax’s current Techbone vaccination, trial model 2.6.”
“You already have a vaccine?” Jackson blurted. “Why didn’t we know about this yet?”
“Shh!” Bank put his human finger before his dolphin mouth, then checked over his shoulder towards the city and sighed.
“Almost available for market use,” the woman said as she handed the syringe to Jackson to observe. “It''s been in development for years, and frankly, it needed more time. After the Firstlight attack, we made sure to expedite research and agreed upon this advertisement with Bank to ensure that we are prepared to distribute as soon as it is available.”
The man nodded. “Bank’s discovery of these boys’ supposed invulnerability worked perfectly with our plan for an advertisement.”
The woman continued, “To be prepared for public release, we agreed upon this marketing promotion for campaigning as soon as it is available.”
“We’re shooting a commercial,” the man said. “The execs plan to broadcast it to anyone whose neurospace data does not include support for Haven Health and anyone else who shows an interest in Naoma, tech upgrades, and the general public if they cannot afford premium ad blocks.”
Jackson handed the syringe back to the female rep. “So once this is market-ready, how can we be sure that it will actually cure techbone and not just produce more glowbones like Okrepine? Eliminate that and you’ll demolish Haven.”
Everyone looked towards the city at the mention of glowbones. The neon skeletons continued to wander from a safe distance.
“Simple,” the man said. “It doesn’t strengthen the bones, rather it attacks the viral component that causes the degradation of bones once combined with certain tech implants.”
“Viral?” Jackson asked.
The woman shook her head, scowling at the man. “As far as our research can tell, no, Techbone is not a virus, but it is easier to think of it that way.
The man nodded and forced a laugh. “Yeah, that''s what I meant.”
She glared at him and continued as his smile diminished. “A latent force resides within those whom techbone affects that begins to wear away bones once it interacts with the light injected with tech implants. This latent factor awakens with certain light frequencies, causing it to become parasitic as it feasts upon the host''s bones. The parasite continues to live on in many people even after the body''s degradation, this what survives as Exos Sapiens or ‘jelly fiends.’ Many of the parasites die with their host, but jelly fiends are the occasional continuation.”
She held up the syringe. “If we can eliminate the parasite before it has a chance to interact with light from tech implants, we have no reason to worry about techbone developing.”
The man stepped forward, checking her for reassurance. “While we have come with the purpose of filming an advertisement, this will also be the first out-of-lab test on an Exos Sapien of the current vaccine model. Firstlight had the last one on the market. Regulation makes it almost impossible to obtain a fiend without coming all the way here. Now that we have you two, we can risk capturing them.”
The woman nodded. “Eliminate the parasite, eliminate the risk.”
Bank and Jackson seemed pleased at the solution, but I felt sick to my stomach and the nausea spread outward. I thought it was a voracious hunger, but it was more unsettling. The back of my head pulsed with an insidious headache. I clenched my teeth to hold back a moan. I would have collapsed and clenched my stomach if the light-laced jumpsuit did not hold me in place.
“Agh!” I shouted and clenched my eyes closed.
“Did you pull the handle?” Bank asked the Finian who held me.
“Must have,” he replied, but I know he had no part in it. No light had touched the back of my head, where it felt like a demon was ready to erupt.
The pain diminished, and a voice emitted from that portion of my skull. It made no sense, but I knew it was true. If I hadn’t been so focused on the sensation, I would have dismissed it for a sleep calling my deprived mind to slumber. The voice was rough and quiet, originating from the back of my skull–my Bite–and speaking to the rest of my very being.
“Lies. Not parasites.”
I could finally breathe without a vice around my mind and heard Boyband as I came to my senses.
I looked at him. His face was red with exhaustion, darker than the lights around us.
“Not parasites,” he whispered.
My core trembled.
“What’d you say, kid?” Jackson said. He pushed the Finian behind Boyband away and grabbed the handle. “You doubting these reps? I’ll pull it you zeggin’--”
“Enough, Anton,” Bank said.
Jackson looked at him and shrugged.
“Give back control?”
“Pfft, whatever.”
The Finian guard grabbed Boyband’s handle again.
I couldn’t spare time to ponder upon the surreal coincidence encountered by Boyband and me. My focus returned to Bank and the reps as I felt the lights on my jumpsuit compress slightly. Still, the unease from Boyband’s words remained.
“Thank you, Anton. Now, you two boys are going to head out into the district and fetch some jellies for us. The reps have very specific standards for the advertisement and will send over the details for size, girth, et. cetera.”
“What the zeg am I doing here?” Naoma pushed past Boyband and would have knocked him over if light bindings hadn’t held him up.
“Eye candy,” the male rep chuckled.
Naoma opened her mouth and raised her fist but calmed herself as the female rep held up her hand. “He’s not wrong, but there’s a better way to say that. This is not about sex-appeal, though I assume most of your audience of a certain age follows you for that very reason. We need your face because–well, why else do we have an agreement with Reef Records? You''re nothing more than an advertisement agency. I’ve spoken to Anton about your history. You’ve advertised clothing, cosmetics, alterations. Your music is enough of an advertisement itself, and now you are going to sell pharmaceuticals.”
“But–ugh, why would I–”
“Are you compliant?” Jackson asked.
She straightened her posture and smiled at the female rep. “I am compliant.”
I checked for Boyband’s reaction, but his dismal stare had been replaced by a feral glare. I restrained a pitiful laugh. Even if Techvax, Reef Records, or whoever owned them all knew that we eliminated the Firstlight operation, they gave no sign that they knew how we had accomplished it. Their ignorance of our curse would be their demise if we ever allotted a degree of freedom.
“Are you listening, then?” Bank asked.
“Sure,” said Naoma, keeping Jackson in her peripheral vision.
“Thank you Anton. Well then, miss Neon Idol. Once we have the jellies, we’ll have you inject a few of them with the vaccine on camera. This’ll prove its worth. We’ll cast your script onto your neurospace interface. Don’t worry, the boys will grab a few trial jellies for you to get comfortable with the script and such. We don’t expect perfection the first time, even from people like you.”
Bank pointed at the guard holding onto Boyband. “Keep a better hold on the kid.”
Boyband straightened. His face turned to a stone glare. Anything that robbed the kid of his humanity pained me like a worried parent. Still, no one could go further than Deleon in robbing the kid of his purity.