Here's an idea that's been bouncing about for a while. The title may need work...

The Babe Wore Netware

A Story of BubbleGum Crisis

By Matthew Harrison

Disclaimer: The only characters in this that belong to me is Kaneda and Kimiko. None of the others, nor the settings, are my property. This is not for personal gain.

Part 1

I slung myself off the saddle of the motorbike, the satchel hanging by my side, and walked towards the door of the bar. It was a quiet evening- quiet as Megatokyo ever got, anyway. There were no more than twelve AdBlimps cruising the sky, and the noise from the Flyover was just short of annoying. Quiet as Megatokyo ever got.

I was heading to RazorLight, a new club that had opened on the edge of Tinsel. It was a strip club, fair enough; I normally wouldn�t be seen in one of those places, but my client had asked me to meet him there. I�d just finished the job he�d wanted, and I had to give him the disks in there. It was far too Mickey Spillane for me- even though it was almost my job.

I�m a tracer, you see; people hire me to do little jobs that other people won�t touch. I find missing persons, I reposess items. I also do a lot of other things, but I won�t go into them here�

As I was heading to the door, my watch throbbed. I tapped a stud, and Kimiko popped up in my vision.

"I�ve just been sorting through your mail. You�ve been threatened with disconnection, the landlord�s getting nasty, and would you like to know about a Revolutionary Breakthrough in Abdominal Fitness?"

"One, I already asked for Disconnection from SayaComm, two, I will be able to pay the landlord tomorrow, and three, I would rather give my genitals to rabid chipmunks."

"It�s not SayaComm."

I went green. "Who the hell is it?"

"TokyoNet. They say your last cheque bounced."

I swore, silently. The jobs just weren�t coming in like they used to� "I ought to be able to pay them tomorrow. Now field any messages- especially Mariko- as I�m going to get paid."

Kimiko looked through my eyes. "Woooh! Naughty boy!"

I ought to explain about Kimiko.

Kimiko is an AI I picked up a couple of years ago. I was asked by a company- a competitor of GENOM- to recover a stolen experimental AI, a prototype optic system. Apparently it was based on some research of a Doctor Stingray, and would lead to �A massive advancement in the field of Home Computing�. I broke in, absconded with the unit, and drove tot heir HQ to find that it had been destroyed in a �Boomer Rampage�. Yeah, right.

I was not under any circumstances going to sell this to GENOM, not at any price, and kept it for myself� and found out that it had a virtual personality in it- hence Kimiko.

And, you might ask, why is she looking through my eyes?

Well, it�s like this� about eight months after I acquired her, I was shot. REALLY bad luck- an executive had been fired, and decided to shoot himself.  Some silly sod tackled him, and the gun went off, hitting yours truly. It blew a hole through the side of my head, and blew my eyes out the front of it. The company he worked for paid for a new set of eyes for me- top of the range cybernetics- as they were mortified at the though that they could be sued for this. And she can give me advice. Through the link, she can also record things through my eyes for later use.

Cool, ne? But I digress�

"Kimiko� just leave me unless I call you. OK?"

That done, I went in.

*****

I was fuming. Five thousand yen for entry! I only hoped this guy would be thankful enough to buy me at least one drink. The place itself, though, wasn�t bad� it was pretty retro-seventies, with Laser lights, spots, and all hues of light. The waitresses were all topless, and didn�t seem to be wearing panties� Very tacky. After a few minutes of looking, I saw my client. He was hunched over a table, ogling a girl who was about to walk offstage.

"Evening."

"Evening, Kaneda. You got it?"

"Indeed I did. We agreed on three hundred k?"

"Let me see, first."

I opened the satchel, and he waved a girl over. She placed a drink in front of me- American Coca-Cola with Jack Daniels, not the ersatz rubbish we generally got in Japan- and he examined the discs with a small reader and screen.

Glancing over at him, I realised exactly why he wanted the discs back that badly- they contained images of him with some woman� correction, make that women. None of them were his wife.

"Well done." He placed the disks in a pocket, and looked at me. "I�ll give you four hundred. I didn�t know that some of that stuff was on there."

"Thanks!" My luck was looking up. "Cash, please, my bank is going to�"

"Shhh. Serena�s up next." And with that, he pointed to the stage.

I had to admit, Serena was stunning. Short, black hair, and a beautifully pure skin. Legs that went on forever� I shook myself, and started drinking again. But my mind kept throwing up thoughts like �whatan ASS!� and �I want. Now�� until I just gave in and watched the show.

She was spectacular. And then I saw something that made me tap my watch stud.

"Kimiko, film. Now."

There were two guys near the central stage, where Serena was performing. One of them was small and nondescript, while the other was big and nondescript. The kind of studied nondescription that you have to work at to achieve, but ends up shouting at the world.

That guy was yelling �enforcer�.

The manager had also spotted them, and was looking very, very nervous.

"Um, Kaneda?"

"Yeah, Kimiko?"

"That guy� the small one�"

"Yeah?"

"He�s wanted. He�s a Loanshark. Known to get his money from drugs� His present whereabouts are unknown to the police."

"And I have a Bounty Licence. How much?"

"Two hundred K."

Right.

I kept watching them, until they made a move.

Then they made their move.

The big guy pulled out an SMG and started hosing the lights. The little guy grabbed the manager by the throat and started speaking to him. Serena took off in a rush.

The bouncers were panicking; I just walked up to the big guy and stunned him with the shockrod I kept in my jacket. Then I stunned the little guy. It�s amazing what you can do when you�re not thinking about it�

*****

It was beautiful.

The client paid me five hundred, ostensibly for �saving his life�, and the manager paid me the same for saving his club. He also gave me a poster of Serena (three weeks and he�d already got posters up for her� sheesh).

The police would pay me in about a week.

This would be good� I could pay the bills, the landlord, go properly shopping AND have some fun.

So what did I do?

I bought a bottle of Scotch and got slaughtered.

*****

The next morning, I felt awful.

"Kaneda?"

"Mrrgh�"

"Kaneda!"

"Oh, mother� not the trifle�"

Don�t ask.

"KANEEEDAAAAAAAA!!!!"

I shot upright.

"It wasn�t me! The dog ate it! OwwwwUUUUULLLLCH!"

Kimiko winced. "Ewww� Sushi and Scotch really don�t mix, do they?"

I looked at her projection, panting, my eyes watering. "What the fUUUUUUULLLLLLCH!"

"You have mail. Who�s Serena?"

My head shot up, and I instantly regretted it.

"Stripper. Works at the club I went to last night," I said, slipping on a half-eaten pizza and searching for OJ and painkillers.

"That figures. It seems she was so impressed with your actions that she wants you to come to the club tonight. She wants to give a personal performance for you."

"Oh." I thought about that for a second. "OH!"

"Tell me, tell me! What does she look like?"

I unrolled the poster. It was tasteful; Serena on her stomach on a white fur rug. Kimiko whistled.

Then I spotted something.

"Kimiko� can you get a closeup on that mark there?"

I was pointing to a little patch of blue at the top of her right thigh.

"Sure. Hold the scanner over it�"

The scanner brought up a little fragment of a number. Some serial number.

"This is interesting, Kimiko. You still got a copy of the film from last night?"

"Yeah�?"

"See if you can get the rest of the number from that."

The number reminded me of something. I wasn�t sure what, yet.

"Um� Kaneda?"

"Yes?"

"I got the number. It runs 33SUH776KI5."

"Hmmm."

"And there�s more. Here�s the film of her dancing."

I was treated to a closeup of Serena dancing.

"Yeah, she�s got a great ass. So what?"

"Don�t you see it?"

"See what?"

"Oh� Try it now."

I saw the same sequence again, this time with a UV filter.

"Holy shit!"

Why would a nice young girl like that be covered in old injuries, and have a serial number tattooed on her thigh?




*****

What am I doing here
half asleep
and the rest of me
still in bed
making coffee
with tea bags...?


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