Megabyte Bar was a dingy place in the basement of a rundown storefront in a rundown section of Neo Baltimore, far away from the gleaming spires of the megacorps towers near the Inner Harbor. Megabyte was where hackers, if they ventured out of their apartment and off the net, would gather to discuss their plans to bring down the megacorp servers while nursing watered down beer that tasted like piss, while decade-old electronica pumped out of speakers that barely worked and dusty LCD screens that nobody watched showed random crap that megacorp-owned stations pumped out.
But when Donovan Ackerman walked in on a rainy Friday night, he found the bar empty except for the bartender named Nelson, a man who looked as frayed and ragged as much of the décor. Donovan took off his dripping trench coat and hung it on the bent metal coat rack near the door. He pulled out his automatic pistol form his coat pocket and checked it, still functional. His clothes were as equally soaked as coat; his jeans felt 10 pounds heavier, his shoes squeaked with every step, and his black shirt stuck to his body, outlining his chest and abs, well developed for a man well on the other side of forty.
Donovan left a trail of water across the floor as he walked to a barstool and sat down.
"So I've finally scared your customers off?" Donovan asked in his deep, gravely tone.
Nelson laughed. "They've known you're a detective for Cynera Systems for weeks. The crowd just doesn't like venturing out in the heavy rain."
Donovan cracked a faint smile. "I was kidding." He had stopped overhearing good intel a while before, but kept coming back because the bar wasn't anywhere near Cynera Tower.
"Could have fooled me. What'll you have?"
"The usual."
Nelson poured him a mug of watered down beer that tasted like piss and gave it to him.
As Donovan nursed it, he mulled over why exactly he was coming back to Megabyte, even though he was assigned to other things. Maybe it was because he didn't fit in with the well-kempt fake façade of Cynera, the employees in pressed suits and the shiny hallways were designed to divert attention away from the fact megacorps were as rotten on the inside as the rest of the world was on the outside. Cynera only kept him around because he could fit in at a place like Megabyte, otherwise they would've kicked him to the slums years before.
The door opened and highly attractive brunette walked into the bar in high heels and a revealing leather halter dress. She shook her umbrella, left it by the door and sat down two seats away. After ordering a martini, she pulled a mirror out of her purse and checked her makeup. Her net-access implant poked out from her wet wavy hair as it parted around the bump on the back of her neck. Donovan's own began to throb.
There was only one reason a woman like her was doing in a place like that, she was a high class prostitute, not one of the ubiquitous data addicted whores who'd suck random cocks in alleys for money to buy a several megabytes of worth of data, which would generally be spent on games or erotica which only provided fleeting highs. Anyone who didn't want to become a pathetic addict knew to spend their data allotments on important stuff and get their kicks outside of their heads. Donovan only accessed the net from his head for work. As soon as he was off the clock, he used a tablet if he needed to go online.
The woman had the tale-tell blank stare, which meant she was accessing something that taking her full attention. She blinked, meaning she was no longer accessing, and sighed. Nelson delivered her martini and she downed it in one gulp.
Nelson walked into his backroom, leaving them alone.
"Client not coming?" Donovan said.
The woman casually looked at him. "I'm Felicia; want to take his place?" Soliciting for prostitution was illegal, but with the amount of illegal activity that went on in Megabyte, Nelson wouldn't care.
Donovan looked away. "I'm Donovan, and not interested."
Felicia moved her stuff down one seat. She leaned forward in order to stare into his eyes. "Are you sure? You're sitting by yourself in an empty bar on a Friday night. If there's anyone who could use some company," she put her hand on his shoulder, "it's you."
He shrugged her off and growled, "Go away."
It wasn't that Felicia wasn't drop dead gorgeous with a soft, curvaceous body that would make most men drool. On any other night, he'd love to suck on her perk tits, ram his cock deep into her into tight pussy and feel ten years younger. But it was a rainy Friday night after a hard week, he wanted to drink his beer and go home.
Felicia put some cash on the bar. "So you're one of those types. I'm sure the local whores are more your style and price range anyway." She gathered her things and stood up. As she passed him, Donovan grabbed her arm.
He held her in place and spun around to glare at her. "How much?" He knew what kind of type she thought he was and she wasn't entirely wrong in her assessment. Still, he was curious of just how much she cost.
"I charge a thousand dollars an hour minimum just for sex. If guys want cuddling and all that, it's closer to two thousand."
Donovan smirked and spun around. "So why you did you solicit me if you knew I wasn't going to pay?
