ANTI-VIRUS

1

Her name was Melissa Purpleton. She worked a floor under the Bridge Scarlet stripclub in West L’ankor as a cybernetic doctor – which meant she installed limbs, upgraded tech, and most importantly, removed viruses, albeit for a hefty price. According to Vanderman, she was – or used to be – close friends with Chip. Whether that meant casually meeting up every weekend for a shot of Blood Razor or a simple one-night stand, she didn't know.

But Melissa knew a thing or two about creating viruses and integrating them with other pieces of Zinc tech. That said, Luna had two questions for her: Where did this virus come from, and did Glitch really design it?

She might have been able to find a way to clear soLong from her system if she knew either of those things. If not by ridding it through sheer trial and error, then by contacting the creators to see what they could do.

Before heading to Vanderman's joint last night, Luna had quickly gone into her apartment and grabbed the remaining four hundred dollars from her cybersafe. She knew she would need it more than ever, and Vanderman didn't have the wherewithal to back her on things as expensive as virus-sweeps, especially for a Tier 1.

She was lucky, thank God. The police hadn't shown up at the time, but later on, when she slept on Vanderman's rocky sofa, she heard sirens heading towards her apartment complex; a whir of sorts, deep and far and replaying in her mind for more than an hour.

She had tried calling Chip another two times, once before turning in for the night, once after waking up at the crack of dawn. She didn’t expect anyone to answer, and no one did. Both times the Cloud Call voice came back to her with “Number not available”.

Did he delete his number? she had thought. What happened?

But she figured that whoever captured him would be smart to remove Chip's contacts. After all, tracking someone's location through calls was as easy as driving a motorbike on a highway.

The time flicked over to 1 P.M. Luna had showered and put on Vanderman's spare jacket with the LED-buttoned collar before coming here. It was a short, although rainy drive, and the AI-taxi joggled her fifty bucks lighter. Stingy bastards, she thought. Shoulda walked.

She would have probably been better off if she had. The roads were always clogged – public transport was a thing of the past, yadda-yadda-yadda – and the hover-mode built into most vehicles was only for emergencies, such as ambulances, police chases, crashes, things of that nature.

Or to get yourself off the freeway when no cop’s lookin.

“Where is she?” said Luna impatiently.

“She said she’d meet us here,” answered Vanderman. “Which gives us more time to look at the women.” He laughed and took a shot of Blood Razor, a drink made from cow blood and barley. Real men drank it.

“Calm your nuts,” she said, but even she found it difficult to ignore the pole dancer; those supple legs with their beet-red high heels clunking against the chemiluminescent stage; the men and women whistling and tossing stacks at her feet like she was some sort of goddess looking for worship; and it would have turned Luna on, turned her on like an outhouse lightswitch on the darkest corner of the darkest block of the darkest city, but her mind was spiralling still, dominated by the thought of Sarah and Chip and where they could have possibly been.

“Vanderman?” A voice from behind; subtle, velvety, feminine.

“Melissa?” he said.

“Been a while, big guy.” She popped him a menthol cigarette from a small package. The sodium-vapour lamps cast blue jackstraws in her silver hair and cyan glints in her two-tone eyes, one red and the other yellow. “You want one too sweetheart? Or are you too busy checkin’ me out?”

Luna snorted amusingly. “Could use more than one.”

“So you must be Luna.” Melissa slid her a pair.

She smiled her thanks. “Chip’s friend.”

Melissa lit Luna's smoke. “I figured,” she said cheerfully. “Where is the skinny guy anyway?”

Vanderman ran a hand over his hair, still looking up at the pole dancer. “Shit’s come up, Liz…. Not the good kind.”

“You know shit to be good?”

He chuckled. “In a city like this, good shit sorts itself out.”

“I guess it does,” she said smoothly, blowing a mint-dampened cloud of smoke. “I haven’t seen Chip for a while now.”

“Yeah, well us neither.” Luna's apple-green eyes shimmered delicately.

Liz lifted an eyebrow high enough for a wave of wrinkles to sprout. “What happened?”

“Might wanna take a seat for this,” said Vanderman, and then Luna tapped the barstool alongside her.

She sat next to Luna, carrying that sweet lavender scent along with her. “So what’s the story?” She propped her chin in her thumb and forefinger, bearing a slanted smile. I’ve heard it all, that smile said. Murder, rape, everything.

So, for the next three minutes, Luna and Vanderman brought her up to date on what happened. Vanderman talked about Glitch tricking them, the plan with the gauntlets at Vadchia and how everything went to shit. How they were on the run from the cops.

Luna talked about Sarah and Chip.

Liz was surprised, shocked even. She ordered a margarita cocktail. “This isn’t good.”

“Yeah! You’re telling me,” said Luna. “So… about the virus. I need a hand.”

“Virus clear? No problem.” She quenched the cigarette on the table.

“How much will it cost?” Luna asked.

Liz looked at her a little apprehensively. “I dunno. Depends how tough it is to remove. Normally, a Tier-5 cookie-clear is twenty bucks ’cause it takes less than five minutes. Tier 3 is where the effort – and the price – really ramps up.”

Luna straightened her posture. “How much for a Tier 1?”

Her eyes widened. “A Tier 1!”

“Yeah, the toughest there is.”

“We've never tried against a Tier 1 before,” Liz said with disbelief. “But a Tier 2 takes about three hours, and costs three-sixty. It’s not your typical lockbreak. You might be better off asking a hacker or – ”

She chuckled at that. “I am a hacker.”

Liz looked puzzled. “Then you’re coming to the wrong people. I mean, we can try, but we’ve never done more than a Tier-2 sweep.”

“I just need to know where it came from,” said Luna. “If I know that, I can figure out how to get rid of it myself.”

She nodded. “I getcha.” Then, after a thoughtful pause, “How much you have on you?”

“Eh, round five hundred,” she said. “Well, more like four-fifty after that taxi-ride.”

“That’ll do,” she said. “Since you’re a friend of Chip, and since you’re in a really shitty situation with your sister, I’ll cut you some slack. I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

“Who?” said Vanderman, giving her a confused look.

“Brother.” Her face softened. “Suicide.”

“Jesus,” he said, pressing his lips into a frown. “When was this?” He leaned forward and sat astride the stool.

She took some time to respond. “Year back.”

“Christ, I’m sorry, Liz. Really.”

“Mind’s a dangerous weapon,” Liz said.

“How old was he?” Vanderman asked.

“Twenty-one. Would be twenty-two now...” she said, tapping her nails on the counter.

“God….”

“It sucks,” Liz said, and Luna could see that she was keeping her emotions in check. Her pout was deep, sincere. “Anyway, ’nough about that. I’ll take you down to my posse and see what we can do. And hell, if we can’t get rid of it, I won’t charge you, how’s that?”

Luna was taken aback. Was she being serious? “I’d still like to at least give you something.”

“No no,” she said. “It’s okay, really.”

“Please, let me – ”

“You can buy me a margarita sometime,” Liz said, smiling. “But for now? It’s fine. ’Sides, I’m not promising that we can actually remove it.”

“That’s generous,” said Vanderman.

“Thank you Melissa,” said Luna, her voice thin and appreciative. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Liz,” she corrected. “And don’t mention it.” Her smile widened at one corner, and Luna saw how white her teeth had been. Glossy, perfect, possibly artificial. You never knew in a city like this.

The waiter came back with a lime-rimmed swill and laid it on the countertop. “Margarita,” he said, before working his way around the table again.

“Cheers.” Liz took a sip, swirled it around in her mouth, swallowed, and said, “Alright. Follow me.”

Luna quenched her cigarette.