Note from the Author: Meant as part of an ongoing series (I hope). I want to send a special thanks to Colleen Thomas. Her work in both The Run, and Voices, helped inspire me to work on some of my own Cyber Punk genre experiences, having been a gamer for fifteen years now. I hope that all will see my sincere attempt at flattery. I also want to thank my editor, Andrea, for all her help and putting up with my crap.
*
Daniel stretched out on the oversized bed feeling the deliciously cool satin rub against his naked body. Looking over at the flawless form of his escort, he had nearly forgotten about her presence, her perfect body, a heat generator in his cool apartment. Long supple limbs perfectly toned to that of a professional dancer, skin as smooth and creamy as money could buy, hair and nails perfectly manicured so that even a night of intense physical exertion couldn't tame them.
Her breasts were full, large and fake, with the nipples a perfectly painted rosy pink. He could see her mound with its hair shaped in an x, exactly like a pirate map, matching the coppery blonde of her head. If he had to make a guess he would say about 100k Hong Kong, just for all the externals.
He could handle all of that, 'til her eyes opened, and those Kanobi 1700's stared at him in the non-human blue. A small smile played on her cosmetically full lips as she noticed he had been watching her body, probably thinking she might have just won herself a mark. Hoping maybe that she might be able to wrangle out enough money to pay off some of the debt she owed on her sculpted form.
Suddenly feeling sick with himself, he rolled off the bed grabbing his wallet; he hated his insight at times. The tile floor felt cool to the touch only long enough for his internal sensors to detect then nullify it as warm blood was forced to his feet and his metabolism was kicked into a higher stage.
Pulling out three thousand in Hong Kong cash, he laid it on the dresser as he made his way towards his bathroom.
"Money's on the table," he said without so much as a second glance. He knew she wouldn't take anything that hadn't come with her, and she would be grateful for the tip he had left her. The level of escort service she came from ensured a certain amount of safety, but even that only went so far.
He started the glass-incased shower as he stepped in, muting the shower's noise internally. He paid close attention to her movements as she gathered her things and left with the money. A trick he had picked up over the years as a means of survival, and it had saved him more than once.
As he heard the door click shut with a slight electric hum of the magnetic lock, he finally allowed himself the luxury of fully relaxing. Though he didn't need to use the hot water as means of warming himself, he did enjoy the sensation of stinging heat as it beat on skin. He had always loved a hot shower first thing in the morning. He checked his internal clock and saw the time was 14:37. Make that first thing in the afternoon.
He took a look at himself in the mirror before heading out, his black suit, with a high collared white shirt, simple black tie, and perfectly pressed pants. His trench covered that, giving the illusion of a low to mid level corporate worker, only the slight bulge of the armor and weapons gave any indication that he wasn't what he appeared.
He forced himself to smile as he stared at his reflection; it still amazed him how people would react to it. He had never considered himself pretty or handsome, though he didn't have a hard time finding women to go home with him. His light brown hair was offset by his naturally green eyes it had cost him a near fortune to get the exact same color as his original eyes, but he felt it had been worth it. To him, the eyes were the windows to the soul, if there was such a thing.
He left his reflection with a last look around the room making sure all was secure before picking up his briefcase and heading out, hitting the maid service button before closing the door. He took the elevator down to the main lobby of the complex, always empty; it was the kind of place businessmen had to take his mistress, or to establish her. It is why he chose it to begin with, all part of the illusion.
Noticing the rain he pulled an umbrella out of his brief, as he walked out onto the busy sidewalk of Hong Kong. Entering the cab he closed the umbrella and returned it to the brief were the auto dry started with a muffled hum. He gave an address and watched the people and vehicles pass by as the cab pushed its way into traffic, then bullied its way through the crowded streets towards the destination. He watched with a trained awareness as he traveled, making sure no cars were following as he watched the reflection of the mirrored skyscrapers.
The towering glass giants dwindled as he moved south, to be replaced by older business buildings turned townhouses, then changed to modern apartment complexes, finally to lower rent buildings, where all the "help" stayed.
Calling the cab to halt he got out, paid with a moderate tip, and started walking down the street. He could almost smell the oily machinery and rusted metal of the docks nearly two klicks south. It reminded him of home.
He opened the door to the bottom level of a gray nondescript building whose only sign was a basic wood board with black lettering in English, and Mandarin, saying "Gym". The interior was brightly florescent, as the windows were all covered to allow no external distraction, and the smell of sweat, leather, and bodies assaulted him. The noise of weights clinking, treadmills running, fists hitting bags, and people sparring were a familiar sound that brought a small level of peace to his mind.
Chad glanced at his arrival and just gave a nod of acknowledgment as he walked in, turning back to those sparring even before Daniel could return the nod, business as usual. Chad was an odd character. Of Indonesian decent, he had a thick accent that Daniel couldn't place even after all this time, but he knew the gym and sport fighting business. He was small with darker than average skin, and a quick, bright grin that struck as open honesty, so rare in this day. Now, however, his face was screwed up yelling at the two in the ring, his swearing coming in so many languages that Daniel couldn't recognize them all, and he knew most.
Daniel climbed the stairs towards the right. As he passed the office he saw Katrina absorbed in her terminal, part secretary, part student, and Chad's only daughter. She looked nothing like her father, seeming of strong Norse decent, her naturally blond hair and blue eyes were in sharp contrast with her father. She was a rare unaugmented beauty, who doted on her father and had him wrapped around her finger. There was nothing that Chad wouldn't do for her, and gods help any man who tried to harm her.
The closest thing he had, or allowed, as family and they were precious. Anyone trying to take that away would feel the wrath of hell. He would ensure it.
Up the stairs he opened a small apartment across from the locker rooms. Large enough for a single bed, a tiny desk with tele-view next to it, dresser and weapons locker on the opposite side, with an unblocked view of the shower and toilet. It was more of a home to him than the high priced flat he rented for appearances.