Out and About

Teeth gritted; I watched the news story.

The gist of the main piece: ‘Adem the Second Coming’ was roaming around New City. It seemed that the hype train I had been unwillingly placed on was gathering momentum. Well, I’m just the flavour of the month. I’m only going to disappoint them all, anyway.

Fifteen of the twenty-minute bulletin focused on me, which was absurd. Then, an ad for Millipede Megaquake – the health warnings for it were as long as the commercial itself. A blue-haired girl was blissfully glugging it. No escape.

My holophone vibrated; a holomessage popped out from a nervous-looking Daniel – did I feel like going to the Friendship Club tonight? He probably was uptight because, well, it was his way and he didn’t seem like the type to reach out to people.

I had been stuck in the facility for so long, I couldn’t spend yet another night alone indoors. “Yeah, sign me up,” I said. “Great, see you there at seven on the dot.” I had little doubt that it would be exactly in the middle of the dot for Daniel.

I ate some fruit called a Mapple – a cross between a mango and you can guess what else – drank some water, endured thirty painful minutes on the loo, then had a quick but restoring shower. Then, I tested the holomask and chameleonwear and created some default settings I could skip between easily. No ‘Adem the Saviour’ that night! Incognito all the way, especially after seeing that cringeworthy mainstream news report.

I checked my look – smart casual for those times, black shirt with random red lines on them, pale trousers, and incredibly well cushioned brogues. Smart watch in retro mode. My holomask’s settings had been adjusted to make my face look more like the old me – although I appeared pretty plain now compared to others (who generally looked like candidates for a modelling gig), I felt more authentic and happier that way. If only holomasks could be powered 24/7.

The autotaxi came, scooting me off to the Northern Quarter, and the social club Day and Night, which had a nifty 3D neon sign that reminded me of the old Hollywood one in some way. We landed like a harrier jet of old, which I found pretty cool. I paid up and got out.

I filed past lines of people chatting happily on the rooftop, then descended into the main bar below. It was pretty dead, and that was fine with me. The bar area was plush, only slightly techy, and seemed to have lots of private booths around the periphery. I liked it immediately. I went up to the bar area. A tender with short-cropped crimson hair came towards me, looking dapper yet impractically dressed in a pinstriped jacket and suit to match.

“Good evening, my name’s Kevin. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Hi Kevin, my name’s…” Agh. “Jack. I’m new to the city.”

“Ah! Where from?”

“I’m…a country bumpkin. From far north of here.” He looked at me funny.

“I must have misheard you. If you said what I thought you had, you’d probably glow in the dark!”

I laughed. “I’m sorry. I hurt my head, and I’m still a bit confused at times.”

He nodded sympathetically. “What do you want to drink?”

Another moment of panic. I wasn’t going to order the only two drinks I knew – water, or a Millipede Megaquake.

“What would you recommend for me?”

“A tranquil blue. Mildly sedative yet still packed with those much-needed vitamins and minerals!”

“Err, okay.” He poured me one, almost filling a martini glass, while eyeing me with curiosity. “Weather is top notch today, isn’t it Jack?”

“Yeah! Really cracking the flagstones. Lovely in the parks.” More lies.

“Flagstones? We do have great parks here, most definitely. If you don’t mind me asking sir, what is your occupation?”

I paused. “Historian.” What else could I say?

“Ah,” he said, and chatted briefly about his interest in Ancient Greek civilization and how it had inspired philosophy. I found him to be very engaging, and he was passionate about the topic.

“Why did you choose bar work instead?”

He looked at me like I was an alien. I quickly covered myself.

“Sorry! As I said, I hit my head –”

“– Badly?”

“Yeah. Quite badly. But the hospital was great with me.”

“I’m lucky to not have had many dealings with them. I’m sure they are great.” Another patron came up to the bar. “Anyway Jack, it was nice meeting you, I hope your recovery goes well and you continue to enjoy our beautiful city!”

I thanked Kevin and walked a few paces away. I felt happy, if not a little gauche. Well, I was a 111-year-old teenager, after all.

A question sparked in my mind. I checked my holophone: what age do people live until these days? ‘Usually between 130 and 140, but sometimes up to 150, when euthanasia can be consensually applied…’ Who knew what sort of genetic engineering was done to me in terms of lifespan. Chances were that time was on my side, and I’d smash through the 200 years barrier! Go, fake me!

I spent the rest of my waiting time looking around. There were handfuls of beautiful people, engaged in conversation. Physically they were remarkable, that’s for sure, but it was more than that. They were open and welcoming, smiling, they were patting each other’s shoulders and bending into each other, laughing. And it was so sincere. I felt as if I could go to any one of these strangers and not be given short shrift.

Sure as sunset, Daniel sauntered in exactly on the hour, looking a little stressed. I came over to him.

“Hi! I’m Daniel. I’m here to meet a friend, but if he’s not here I’m happy to chat –”

“– Daniel you plank, it’s me. Adem.”

“Plank? Oh hi. You look…well, interesting choice for face. Why the downgrade?”

I made that face uglier, and he laughed. “Well, I knew you wouldn’t come as you, but I thought you would at least pick someone remotely attractive!”

“Hey! I based it on my old face!”

“Ah. Well, bad news, but you’ll surely be going home alone tonight looking like that.”

I was getting burned by Daniel, of all people! “Carry on like this and you’ll be wearing my drink.”

He clasped my shoulders. “A drink is a good idea.” We went back over to the bar, and Daniel chatted to Kevin quite happily, backing up my shaky story. He ordered something very akin to a ginger beer, and we drifted towards the booths.

Just as I was about to ask him what the booths were all about, two young women came up to us, wine glasses in hand. “Ah, I’d like to introduce Moira and Sophie.” Moira had golden curly hair, while Sophie had pink hair in pigtails. Both were booted and skirted, and of course looked sensational.

“I’m…” “Jack,” Daniel quickly interjected. “Yes, Jack Sparrow.” Might as well have fun with it.

Moira raised an eyebrow and giggled. “I guess you ARRR.” Sophie looked away.

I smiled sweetly as I could, hiding my late teenage nerves. “How do you know these two ladies?”

“Well, umm…I used to work with them. In a conveyancing department.”

“Yes, the conveyancing department.” echoed Moira.

“And it was bad.”

“Yes, it was bad.”

I started probing. “And how long was that ago, Daniel?”

“Oh – some years back.”

I smelt a barrelful of rats. Daniel, as always, was an awful liar.

“Oh, how nice! I’m new here.” I looked at Sophie, who seemed reluctant to make any eye contact with me. “What about you, Pinky? Sorry, Sophie?”

“Let’s go to one of those booths,” Daniel suggested, almost tugging me there.

We sat down. Daniel practically hemmed me into the wall, as Sophie opposite me was put in the same predicament, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. Daniel knocked his drink back with suspicious speed.

“Sooo…my drink’s empty. Let’s go to the bar, Moira.”

But Moira’s glass was very full. I laughed.

“I didn’t think there were any raging alcoholics these days!”

“Oh, after working with…a certain someone for the last few months, I swear I might be setting a new trend soon.” She eyed me coldly, with a wry smile I knew I’d seen before.

Daniel was hesitant for a moment, then got up, all decided.

“I hope you’ll enjoy talking to Sophie.”

“We’ll see about that,” I grimaced.

And they went off to the bar. I looked at ‘Sophie’. She looked at the table, her wine, the ceiling. Probably the exit, too.

Nope, I’m not going to say anything.

Minutes passed. A familiar game took shape.

More minutes passed. Sophie was looking a bit distressed. Like she felt a kitten would be stabbed if she didn’t speak.

“I…I –”

“– You lose.”

“What?”

“The game of who can be more stubborn? That can go on for quite some time, with us.”

“Ohh.”

“Hello, Blue.”