Bug

Liberty had an offline map built into her new lens processor. She only remembered about the offline map app because she remembered wondering why anyone would decide to pre-install such a useless thing. Now she could see the point.

The map showed a road to the south with no public transport routes, a railroad to the west, and a private airport further to the north.

She walked west, and Pier followed.

Evidently, the area had been a park, but then it died out, got ugly, and was never repurposed. There was a similar piece of land near her old place. They walked through an abandoned park for half an hour until they arrived at a solar power field. The railroad was not even visible from their location.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Pier asked, looking at seemingly endless rows of solar panels.

“I got an offline map pre-installed.”

“Such apps require an advanced lens,” Pier frowned and made a small step away from Liberty,” and only the candidates without them were invited.”

“Hey, you are from FLC?”

“Did you get your lens from a different provider?” Pier looked as if he was getting ready to run.

“FLC, as everything else.”

His panic and confusion were apparent. Now Liberty was relatively sure that he really was desperate when he approached her. It helped her feel less suspicion towards him.

“I got this one the same day I got the invitation to this,” she shrugged after several seconds of tense silence, “maybe they didn’t get the info in time. You know these things better if you work there.”

Pier relaxed a little bit.

“There really is an offline map pre-installed in our lens,” he commented after a moment, “and I didn’t even know.”

Ours was not for him and herself, she thought; it was for Fujitora-Lahache. Liberty had doubted him earlier, but assuming he was not lying, it made a lot of sense that he was from FLC. It explained the expensive look, also. In many areas, FLC was one of the tier-3 corporations, meaning that they set unreasonable high compensation for their employees and then selected the best of the best among those willing to apply. Pier was either very talented in what he did or had a friend who helped. And Pier did not look that talented. Liberty did not fear him now, but she did not like him.

“I see your idea,” Pier said,” you were aiming for a railroad station. Should we go?”

Liberty didn’t nod; she just turned around and walked in the direction of the station. Several steps behind, Pier followed.

They were walking for half an hour when the internet became available again. Being spoiled as he was, Pier tried to find a spot for getting a flier taxi and even offered to get one for Liberty. But then he decided that the space between solar panels was not enough for a cab to land. He looked unhappy, but he distracted himself with something quick enough.

Liberty checked that there was no news mentioning her name yet. Whatever Pier said, she didn’t believe that nobody would share videos of these events. It was not some minor incident; there were deaths. Some people and media had already posted something about it, although she did not want to read it right now. Coral scheduled a special episode dedicated to the topic. Liberty was not the most critical part of it, but she was there, and she still expected this information to spread.

Finally, they reached the station.

She decided it was a transport hub enough, so she waved and started to climb the train shed’s roof without looking back. After all, she was not Pier’s babysitter, and he was not a kid.

Humanity was capable of building flying cars and trains traveling faster than 400 kilometers per hour. Liberty did see the cars sometimes, and Pier, apparently, was used to riding them. But these things were not something most people needed. Most people needed the cheapest solution to any given problem. And that was why she could see that the next train in the schedule was the one requiring an hour to get to the bug quarter station. The long time meant a slow train.

Liberty waited, positioned on the roof. As expected, an old energy-saving train arrived.She quickly moved to a metal beam above the head car. And when the train was taking off, she jumped on top of it and promptly positioned herself to lay between the roof panels. Too few people used that way for transportation companies to take any measures against it, but enough people did it for Liberty to believe the method to be safe. Now, she had an hour to waste.

She started by finding her FLC gear consent policy settings and forbidding any information share. She then looked up, if she could request to delete the already shared information. Unexpectedly, she didn’t even have to: the company was obliged to delete the information collected in case the client decided that sharing was no longer preferable. It was convenient. She then looked up, who Ben was and what was his job title.

Liberty didn’t wait for the train to arrive at the station, spotting the usual location and jumping off instead. She landed on a roof: the train line in the bug quarter was new, so it was built high. The roof was convenient for jump-offs because it was close enough to the station for trains to start slowing down, it had perfect height, and it was easy to go down to the city from there. Some guys were drinking on the other end of the roof, but they did not pay Liberty any mind. She glanced over a visible part of the city. It was not an evening yet, but the lower parts of the neighborhood were in neon-illuminated dusk, with sunlight blocked by multiple levels of buildings and bridges.

It was her day off, and the neighborhood never failed to offer something. But she had to be home, so she hurried in that direction. Already her heart was starting to beat fast. It made her remember the time when she had been bringing the Christmas cake home, worried about the possible reaction.

Would she really see him today?

She was walking through the bug quarter, so she put on her mask. One of her masks. Using a mask was not necessary, but showing one’s face would be roughly as socially acceptable as going naked.

Liberty stored her usual mask in her backpack - a low polygon rendition of her face, colored gray. It was a face she was using for her mundane activities. It was nothing special, so nobody gave her a second look.

She, however, looked around. It was a small pleasure she could afford without wasting time. It was fascinating now, as her advanced lens allowed her to block advertising. She had tried that feature for a bit already, but it still felt new. It was like going through a different neighborhood, a sunlit street without bright neons. Similar to streets from the distant past or, possibly, from higher levels. Even with lights filtered, it was colorful, with acid greens, pink, baby blue, red... Red. The particular shade of red caught Liberty’s attention. Strawberries.

A woman in an oriental mask was selling berries, some liquid, and some leaves. She didn’t have a sign of any kind. Liberty approached her.

The berries were small and a bit strangely shaped.

“Grew them myself,” the woman smiled to Liberty,” have a good water filter, removes all acid. Good for plants, good for people. You could take three bottles for a price of two.”

Liberty had an excellent oriental mask home. She could probably get a better price if she was wearing it, or she could learn a thing or two about the water.With her gray face, she was probably charged double, but Liberty still got a small plastic box of strawberries.

Liberty lived at one of the lower levels. It was outside of bug quarter, over the canal. Half of the people were still wearing masks, but the cameras here weren’t as actively destroyed. The most important difference was in the mood. People had ties with the bug quarter, they knew the rules, they respected anonymity. But they knew that the rent on their side of the canal was cheaper, and for them, it mattered the most. Their neighborhood did have an idea about it, with people just trying to get by, similarly to so many other places. It didn’t even have a separate name, treated as a part of the bug quarter by maps, but not by human beings.

Liberty reached the Uhuru bridge.

She could see her apartment complex entrance from there, but even with her enhancements, she was not willing to risk jumping a whole level down. So, she had to take another ten minutes before she got to her door. Liberty had a pair of stickers on the door: a red butterfly and an owl for her and Lawrence. She didn’t state her apartment number because she was sure that he would be able to find it.

Taking off the mask, shoes, and jacket was good. Liberty placed the box of strawberries in the middle of her tiny kitchen table, smiling.

It was just a small chance, she reminded herself. Having high hopes was the surest way toward disappointment. And the news is to settle still; they might not even mention her, meaning it was all in vain. All except saving Jan, of course.

It was only at that moment that she thought that the boy might have died if she was not there. It was hard to imagine. Liberty also remembered the bodies from the medical area. People really had died. She never liked dwelling on unpleasant things, but just moving on from these deaths was disrespectful somehow. Liberty felt a little sick in the stomach. But this little sickness was familiar. The girl realized that she was hungry.

She remembered the jellyfish wrap as she ate her rice and worms combo. The wrap was nice.She didn’t finish her meal when there was a knock on her door. She froze, her thoughts in chaos. Despite everything, Liberty was not ready for this.

She could not think anyway, so Liberty leaped from her chair, made three quick steps, and flung open the door.

It was not Lawrence, of course. Lawrence would have been too good, and she had prepared herself to see someone else to face this disappointment.

She was not, however, prepared to see Pier.

“Let me in,” he said impatiently,” and read the news.”

Liberty did not move from a doorway to allow him in. She did, however, start to look up news. She searched for FLC, guessing that that was something connecting her to Pier.

There was a recent article repeated on all major news channels with minor variations. It was stated that there was a terrorist attack on an FLC event, with casualties. This, however, was just a diversion. The real goal was to kidnap the grandson of Antoine Lahache, one of FLC’s founders, and it was successfully executed. Pier Lahache was abducted, and a ransom demand was received by the Lahache family. Liberty Wright was under suspicion, and there was a reward for her capture. FLC was issuing a massive bonus for the families of employees who suffered from the attack.

She could see now what was so funny about not being Fujitora.