The judas cypher, p.8
The Judas Cypher, page 8
“Well, for one it tells me that it isn’t just one person doing this. We’ve been clueless about this for some time now. You told me there were three, but only one of them went out to do the work. What this tells me is that the one was a lackey for a boss and possibly his pilot. What we may be dealing with is someone of power and not some random killer. So, you see, what you told me puts a light on the dark part of my investigation.”
She seemed to accept this and they made their farewells. He walked out to the Buick. By now the sun was on its way down, but he was glad to see that the glitchy area of his lens had finally finished being repaired.
‡Chapter 7‡
Discovering the Arch
Since it was late and he needed to process the information about Candace, Dhata drove to Empire’s Tavern to find Esti. She would know about three men traveling with her friend, and maybe why one of them would want to string her up.
The waitress from before was nowhere to be seen, so a busty, dark-eyed redhead showed him to his seat. He ordered a sweet tea and the meatloaf, but when it was placed in front of him, he picked at it like a bird. He just didn’t have an appetite, and his hand was shaking. He noticed this when he picked up the fork and held the meat out in front of him.
Was this mental trauma, or was it the grits? Were they just not sitting well? So much had happened to him within the span of four days that he couldn’t pinpoint where the blame belonged. He caught the bile rising in his throat fast enough to rush into the bathroom. There he vomited so much that the little strength he had was finally sapped, forcing him to drag himself along the walls to make it to the sink.
Cold water to wash out the mouth and splash the face, then he was dragging himself to the table. His heart was racing; what was going on? But he managed to get back to his seat and he sat there wondering how he would make it back home.
After sitting there for a time he noticed a familiar face. It was Esti, and she seemed to have undergone some changes. She had straight black hair that fell to her shoulders, and her arms were flawless, with five fingers on each hand. If he hadn’t met her before, he would have been fooled into thinking that she was human. Even her lips seemed different somehow, as if she’d ordered the works at a Cosmetics chop shop.
When she saw him gawking, she walked over, her hips swaying so much that it was a wonder she didn’t hit anyone. “You don’t look good,” she said as she sat down across from him, bringing out an electric cigarette.
“I guess you gave me something,” he said with a smile, and she kicked him under the table.
“Nothing poisonous about my muffin, Skip, plus you still haven’t taken a bite.” She winked. “You should be nice to me, you know. I’m the only synth stupid enough to be seen with you.”
He smiled, feeling dazed but impressed by her look, and he reached forward and touched her warm hand. “You’ve been busy, pretty girl, but you look amazing. Is it my four hundred credits that you’re wearing all over?”
“Your four hundred credits went into the nice tan you see,” she said, showing off her arms. “But the rest was purchased from someone way richer than you.”
“Hey, let me level with you, Esti, I actually came looking for you. I’ve got some bad news.”
“I know what it is, and no I don’t know who did it,” she said. Her smile never changed, but he saw the sadness in her eyes, and he wondered if she knew just how frightening it made her look. “The boss knows that I’m your new connection,” she said. “I caught some heat over our last chat. Had you told me you were going to storm into Ybor and light him up, I would’ve have told you jack.”
“What do I need to do?” he said, and he kept his eyes locked onto hers. “Our friend is dead. There’s a synth serial killer running loose, and as soon as the word gets out they’ll be hunting you for sport. I can’t imagine that Peyton wants that affecting his business, and I’m sure that a smart girl like you can understand.”
“I do, Dhata. It’s the only reason I’m sitting here talking to you. I want you to find who did Candace, and extract the life from out of him.”
She took an extra-long drag on her cigarette and waved the serving girl over. “He needs a tonic,” she said, then when the girl turned to leave she grabbed her arm. “A real tonic,” she said, and the girl pulled away from her.
“I get it, Esti, I can see for myself. I don’t want him getting sick in front of customers,” she said.
“Tonic?” Dhata asked.
“Your body’s in need of a stim. Looks like you got a habit; weird that a junkie don’t know what a tonic is,” she said.
“Junkie? That ain’t me. Ran into some real losers who shot me up.”
“Nasty stuff. Do you win any of your fights?” she asked.
Dhata laughed and raised his glass of water to toast his beautiful companion. Esti giggled in turn and inhaled the vapor and held it in for a very long time. When she let it go it poured from both her mouth and nostrils. It was an impressive amount of smoke that smelled of strawberries.
“Listen,” she said, “I want revenge for Candace, but since you and the boss are at odds it puts me in quite a spot. New rule for us, and it comes directly from the top. You pay for my services, we’re going to have to do a lot more than talk.”
“This way he can implicate me for solicitation if I get his ass busted,” Dhata said. It was a nice trap, but he didn’t see himself having much of a choice. The server came by and handed him a glass of fizzy liquid, and he smelled it and looked at Esti as if it was a practical joke.
“It smells like ass, but unless you want to shoot up, you better drink it or you’ll be sick,” she said.
“How long does this go on?” he said. “This reaction to the stims?”
“If it was your first shot, you should be good after that drink.”
“How much is this drink, anyway?” he said, and Esti began to laugh.
“It’s a hundred UCCs” said the server, and Dhata almost choked.
“What the hell is in this? Gold dust from Mars?” She rolled her eyes and moved on to another table. “That girl thinks I’m a junkie loser,” he said, and Esti nodded in agreement. He put it to his lips and drank it fast — it was the most disgusting thing he had ever tasted in his life.
“Good boy,” Esti said. “Now all you need is a good night’s sleep.
“Let’s get a room,” he said. “Let me get a close-up view of all those enhancements.”
“I don’t think you’ll last another five minutes, let alone that other thing. I’m good, cowboy; not working tonight. Just a girl on the town. You know how it is.”
“The girl on the town decides to take a break at her regular trap? That doesn’t make any sense, Esti. Are you saying you won’t do it?”
“I’m saying that I’m not dumb. You need help, you saw me, and now you’re trying to trick me into dragging your high ass home. I know a thing or two about tricks, Dhata. Don’t play with me. I’m not a big fan of games.”
“Alright, whatever,” Dhata said. “Take me home, and I will happily pay you.”
0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0
He woke up to light and sweat-soaked sheets as Esti walked in with a bowl of cereal and sat down next to him. She was in sheer lace lingerie, and its green against her caramel tan was a palette fit for any man’s desires. She squeezed in next to him and handed him the spoon, and he took it and ate like a starving animal.
“Did we?” he asked.
“Mhm.” She nodded and reached up to play with a strap on her bra. “Drunk Dhata is an animal. He did things here, he did things there, and then to my surprise, he asked me to—”
“You’re so full of shit. We didn’t do jack. I probably got you in here, then passed out on the bed.”
She laughed when he said it, a mischievous sound, then sat up on the bed with her legs crossed. “So, you were in a bad way last night; want to talk about it? I assume that’s why you came looking for me. You want to ‘talk’ some more?”
“I’m in bed and naked, not of my own doing, and I’m guessing that this isn’t a cheap hotel. Last night was a blur, but I’m assuming that talking didn’t happen,” Dhata said.
“No, we didn’t talk but you took me around town, bought me this lingerie so you could see how it looked on me. You’re a good customer, very generous—”
“Didn’t matter that I was coming down off of stims and practically out of my mind huh?” Dhata said. “What nice place did I take you to, Esti? Tell me, please; I’m curious.”
“You took me to West Tampa, to the Carpenter Mall. You gave me your card and just slept in the car.”
“CINI allowed that? You, a non-verified driver, to enter in and out of the vehicle? You’re hilarious, Esti, but I appreciate the laugh. I’m guessing you haven’t been to West Tampa much, to see how they treat synths if you so much as show up?”
“No, but I’ve heard stories. Hey, a girl can dream, right?”
“You can dream, Esti; you have a wonderful imagination. But over there isn’t much different from Temple Terrace, where I was raised,” Dhata said.
Esti seemed perplexed. “I thought that was a nice area,” she said.
“Not nice for you. Trust me, Esti, the little old ladies who smile and wave as you drive by are still using first-gen synth maids, and would lose their minds if you show up on their doorstep claiming to be their grandson’s date.” He chuckled. “Man, you have no clue, do you?”
“Haven’t been to Temple Terrace much, and when I’ve gone it was under cover of night. Kind of goes with my line of business,” she said, winking, “but it sounds like I wouldn’t like it very much. But you say that you grew up there. How did you turn out so … different?”
“You’re asking why I like synths,” he said. “I had it hard myself growing up there. Family had no money, Mom and Dad died trying to pretend they were something they weren’t. You know, my mom worked three gigs for most of that time, just to keep the lights on. Those little shits that I went to school with, they had all the money in the world.
“Hated that place; I hate thinking about it now. My first time even seeing a synth that wasn’t an old school server android was when some boys from around the way were throwing rocks at his vehicle. That poor fool got some money and tried to live in the same neighborhood as the good humans of Tampa Bay. They ran him out of there so quick.
“What’s ironic is that we were guilty of the same thing. We had no business living in that neighborhood, and those spoiled little bastards made my life a living hell. That’s why I got along with the synths. They were our janitors, our security guards, and our coaches. They were also my protectors when the psychopaths wanted to torture the poor kid.
“So, you can imagine how I felt when some of these little assholes grew up to be adults, and started waxing that us versus them rhetoric. I was like, if I have to choose, then I’m with them. They’re more human than an entire neighborhood of you idiots.”
Esti touched his face and kissed him gently on his lips, snapping him out of his dark memories. “That’s so beautiful and sad at the same time, Dhata. I don’t know what to say.”
“Just remember that I’m here to help; that’s all I can ask,” he said. “I became a John to help humans and synths, but mostly the synths since I know what is at stake. You need to help me, Esti; this goes way beyond jobs and bosses telling us what to do. This killer may be a synth, and if he is, then you’re looking at anarchy, unleashed on this entire city. They will come to Ybor, killing and raping. They will force you back into servitude. I know that you understand, it’s probably your worst fear, but it is mine as well and I can see it coming.”
“I’ll do my part, Dhata, whatever it takes,” she said, and something about the way she said it made him believe it. “You’re in a lot of trouble, you know? I’m probably in trouble too. No telling who saw me leave the Tavern last night, and this is the second time we’ve hooked up.”
“In trouble? With who? What do you mean, in trouble? If anyone has it out for me, Esti, I need to know.”
“Remember how I told you that we synths could connect to an information network? Well it’s more than that; it’s a sort of central mainframe we call it the Arch Brain.”
“Arch Brain; I know Arch Brain. It’s the super powerful, synth CPU.”
“It’s the machine that gives synths life, lover. It is what created me. We are all permanently connected, sharing knowledge and more. It saves our data and repurposes it as it sees fit. What I’m saying to you, Dhata, is that you need to be careful. You brought me here, your safe place, and you shared a lot with me. If someone, say Peyton, paid a cypher for a spike, he could use this information to get at you.”
“There’s no way for you to unplug from it? Must you stay connected?”
“It’s … how can I put it? It’s how we think? Each synth has a local memory that is vast and sophisticated, but without the Arch Brain we’d be just like you. Limited in our ability to process everything.”
“And that is such a terrible thing?”
“Well … no, but still. It’s hard to explain it to a human, but we need it, Dhata. We rely on it.”
He saw that his story had changed the dynamic between them; she was more forthcoming in this one exchange than the hours they had spent that first night inside of the Buick. “So, my being in trouble is still Peyton looking to kill me. What did I do to piss that dude off so much? You would think I had sex with his mother.”
Esti laughed as if he had just said the world’s funniest joke, then stopped abruptly and her face grew serious. “You need to be careful, Dhata. Candace cared for you; she would have wanted me to take care of you like I am doing now. Is that okay?”
“Are you unplugged now?” he asked, and she nodded, then placed his hand on top of her thigh. He didn’t know what to think; why did she do it? If what she said was true about the Arch Brain, she was actively rebelling against all synths. “How much am I going to end up owing for this little party of ours?” he asked.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said, nibbling gently on his ear lobe. “Now enough talk about Arch Brain. Blow my mind, or I swear to god, I’ll charge you double.”
0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0
When it was over he felt like himself again. He had slept for an hour, his body entwined with Esti’s immaculate form. When he awoke, the room seemed dark, and he saw that the sky was overcast. Good, he thought. Maybe she’ll stick around while it rains.
He thought about Arch Brain, this super computer, and the connection it gave synths all over the world. Did the government know about this construct, and was there any defense against it? If a cypher broke the waves of such a network, he could tap into every other synth.
Cyphers could never be trusted, so maybe his enemies wouldn’t risk it. Trust a hacker to break a system and you never know what other mischief—besides the one you paid him for—would benefit him in the end.
There were stories about cyphers cracking the FBI’s database and using it to frame the same idiot that had hired them. Some left openings in systems that they could exploit later on, and others would get in and then demand more money to finish.
There was no honor amongst thieves, and the cypher network exemplified this. Most were anarchists, a few were geniuses, but as a whole they all looked out for number one.
But if Dhata were to hire one, he could access Arch Brain, and see whether or not it was a synth committing the murders. No, that was impossible. There were millions of synths, and who was to say that a cypher would be able to figure out the complex code of the android’s mainframe? The cypher would have to be a synth himself, which seemed paradoxical.
When Esti finally woke up, it was to the smell of fomeal eggs and steak ordered up to the room by Dhata. She walked over to the table, wearing one of the hotel’s white robes, and when she sat down, he poured her a glass of red wine.
“This seems pretty romantic for, um, what we have going on,” she said, but when he placed a plate in front of her, she quickly dove in and seemed to enjoy it. She popped a bit of steak in her mouth and smacked at it playfully. It was delightfully juvenile, and something that one could only imagine a human doing.
“This is good,” Esti said. “Can you cook as well as this?”
“Yes ma’am,” Dhata lied. “I can flip that fomeal like a champ.” He sat in front of his own plate, facing her, and he could feel her toes dancing up his shin. She chewed some more and winked, then took a deep gulp of her wine. “There’s no romance intended here, Esti. Not to say that a woman like you doesn’t deserve romance. I’m just appreciative of everything that you’ve told me; you’ve been a good friend to me—”
“Just a friend?” she said, looking over her glass.
“You’ve taken care of me quite nicely,” he said with a smile.
He followed the outline of her neck from her ear down to her bare shoulder, where the robe had slipped off to reveal the tan line across a well-shaped breast.
“I know that look,” she said, letting the robe fall open, but he did his best to ignore it.
“I was just wondering, if you don’t mind me asking. Who did such magnificent work on you?”
Esti held the glass to her mouth and stared at him, and he wondered if she would answer. It was a thing she did; he thought it was meant to keep you off-guard, but maybe it really took that long for her to process information. “Why?” she finally said, and sat up straight.
“Peyton ban you from telling me?”
“Peyton doesn’t own me. He isn’t my master, and the doctor doesn’t belong to him either,” she said.
“Does the doctor have a name?” Dhata pressed.
“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” she said, then stuck out her tongue. “Who knows, maybe if you keep treating me like this, I just might slip you his details.”
“Yeah, but I need to get out there soon,” Dhata said. “It’s bad enough I’ve been inside all day, trapped between those legs of yours.”
