Episode Eleven: The Flying Fish Job - kaseido/NeoTokyo GitHub Wiki

15 Minsky

Vir wakes up to a message from Skyler Meadow, the Dirty Hippie: “Hey, you seemed really nice, so this is kind of a heads up. If you’re just looking to get into the sweet stuff, disregard. But if you’ve got something special, you’re gonna need serious help and protection, like epic. We’ll be back in the Heights in two weeks, talk then.” They reply “kthxbai” and forward the message to the team. It’s interpreted as a play for control of the bee: “He can’t have our bee!” “Possession is 9/10th and the last 10th is Carbide’s gun.” Paragon has messages:

“Will pay NB50k for ginger fish lo mein recipe from Chao Noodles on Yamato Station. Need file, not text.” ~[snow emoji] [apple emoji] And another:

“u2 cud b a gnu” It’s signed with a whirring fan-with-flames emoji. Paragon sort of recognizes is as belonging to Fan Heatsink, a famous netrunner. There’s a digital envelope, sealed with seal of a cuddly wildebeest in a smoking jacket: it’s serious encryption, that Paragon’s barely able to beat. Inside there’s another note: “The Flan: why all the baked goods? Answer is your [emoji of a ticket reading ADMIT ONE].” And another note, with the fan-with-flames emoji: “JSYN, that’s from the big guy himself. He’s really curious.” Paragon has no idea what that’s about, and is annoyed by the whole thing.

She does some research on how to get to orbit: it’s fairly straightforward, aside from spaceport security. Sata Aviation holds a monopoly on transport to the station. Pleb tickets are NB300 each way on old but reliable ex-Starfleet shuttles; first class on a luxury NeoTokyo shuttle are NB1000, but include concierge service, TraumaTeam coverage, a TFS Specialized Defense contract. All projectile weapons must be checked or physically locked down before departure. Full scans arerequired for compliance and identification, with search run against databases for bounties, etc. Bounty hunters hang out there to catch the stupid.

She forwards the “space noodles” message to the team, but not the other one: she was annoyed by the layered message and isn’t sure how much she wants to piss off the local bakery for a secret org not as good as she is – since her team got the ConBrands drug formula when the Gnus’ hack failed.

Vir arranges a meeting with Archpriest Armitage of the Church of the Outer Gods, and nervously sneaks out of the Honeycomb Hideout, clutching their osmotic eel in a jar. They take the metro without incident, and meet Armitage at a lunch counter. He’s charming and solicitous, and asks what Vir wants. They get straight to the point: “What went wrong that night?”

Unsure where this is going, Armitage hedges. Vir pushes: “We all think the elder gods resemble mister eely, but what would an elder god look like? What if you did succeed? I at first thought she was a mortal popstar woman, but maybe she is what you summoned.” Armitage strings Vir along, but is unconvinced. Besides, he’s a people person, not the theologian. He just spreads the good word he’s given. Oh, and speaking of spreading, he’d like to see them again. Perhaps at his place tomorrow night? They agree, and scurry off.

Meanwhile, Star, Friction, and Shift are meeting at the Synth Center, apparently now renamed Electric Sheeple. There’s quite a few people hanging out. Friction’s worked up some preliminary fashion designs, that her friend Macmalah will model after she’s out of therapy.

As they’re waiting, NeuralNymph returns Star’s call. There’s nothing they can do about her size: she’d need a full new chassis. They’re an R&D lab, they don’t work at that scale. Best go back to Horizon Group. But! she’s been working with their mutual friend with the shedding problem. He says a friend of his has gone to stay with you. She’d love to drop by sometime and catch up on mutual acquaintances, and pass on some juicy gossip. Star asks for a favor: can she get her hands on some aerosolized persuasion drugs, like something for a cult? Nymph says that’s way, way outside her network. Star tells her not to mention it to Viera: he’s a jackass, and he probably doesn’t have long to live anyway. Nymph’s grateful for the tip, and says she’ll max out his work schedule for the time he’s got left. She’ll do what she can, but it’ll be a longshot. Give her three, four days and she’ll come by with whatever she’s got, and that gossip.

Macmalah leaves a side room, along with Dr. Desai, who’s already tapping out a cigarette. “Anybody here got organic lungs? Friction? Oh, I’ll go smoke outside.” She points at Star: “You – I hear you’re getting weird. Book some time this week, don’t make me drag you.”

As Macmalah models, the group gets some guidance from Star, who’s on a creative roll: extremely expensive looks in costuming, looking like bleeding money everywhere. “Money is the real blood of society” is their theme, right? Shift suggests they could work up some holographic latinum jewelry. Star notes that she and Shift literally embody the doctrine: their bodies are fantastically expensive. She suggests they “make our meats look more synth.” Macmaalah “looks expensive.” Star makes a note to invest more in Horizon.

Everybody but Friction looks distracted for a moment. You just got pushed a firmware update: TasteSensations 3.8, with updated flavor discrimination. The patch notes also include a mention that your override menu now includes a default rejection of the latest ConBrands psychoactives, along with a disclaimer that you shouldn’t be eating kibble anyway.

Within minutes the synths get pushed an ad – well, “community service notice” from the Five Year Flan: they’ll double their standard synth discount today. Shift explains that the Flan’s been marketing to the synths, as about half of them like to eat. And, one of the bakers comes by after closing with a free box – they think she’s flirting with xxxScarlettxxx. But anyway, they offer a 20% discount to any of the synths who donate their undigested and “lightly used” stomach-bag contents: they pass them on to a local shelter.

Star thinks of herself as too human for the bag donation. She was a full-body replacement with no mods or humanity loss till recently, so she feels like a girl who happens to be synth, not a synth shaped like a girl.

Shift tells Star how incredibly grateful they are to her for saving them, and giving them the chance to work on such a terrific project. They don’t mind at all using their talents for less-than-good: they really empathize with the poor girl who was going to be sacrificed. Shift and Friction are going to do up a demo reel with the new costumes, jewelry, and themes, and get it to Star as inspiration for her composing. Give them a couple days.

Star realizes they actually have a cutting-edge persuasion drug, from ConBrands: they just need to change the delivery mechanism. She sends a message to Vir about aerosolizing: “hey I was thinking of a new perfume.” Vir notes that they previously developed an aerosol and delivery system for the armored car, and suggests Carbide could build the delivery mechanism into a fog machine for the event.

Star recaps her plans with the team at a mid-day meeting. Carbide agrees to work up a fog machine. Paragon tells Star “if you go for the discount, ask why – apparently it’s a big question why the bakery has pastries. If you’re not, I don’t know that I care too much, because it sounds like a stupid question. It’s from some rando that sent encrypted nested message till I got bored. Star asks, “Is somebody nerd-flirting with you?” and explains the difference between nerds who are flirted with by wealthy and attractive people, and flirtation by nerds. She asks, “Vir why do you look so. guilty?” Vir explains, “I was playing with the cultists.” They tell the group that they’re worried that the cultists are going to be rowdy at the “play date,” and want them to be deeply afraid of Star. So, they’re trying to convince the group that Star is an elder god in a synth body.

Star’s deeply impressed.

“But now I have a date with this guy tomorrow night, and that means I have to wear clothes again, why can’t I live in sweat pants?” Carbide lives in sweat pants. Star interrupts excitedly: “I have to call Friction, hang on” On her agent: “Vir has a date! We need to dress them! Get on over here!”

Friction arrives minutes later, and is confused: Vir’s got a date with a creepy cultist? “Aim higher, sweetie, really, you can!” Vir explains that they want to torture them, and Friction’s about to offer up a club she frequents, but Vir continues: “I picked him because he reminded me of the guy my dad wanted me to marry. I thought he’d be easy to talk to, he looked familiar and it seemed like it’d be ok, but it turns out he’s not the theologian. I didn’t think to ask who was… I’m afraid they’re going to get all rowdy. I’m feeling mean, so I have to torture him more tomorrow.”

Friction is sort of getting the picture? She asks what Vir’s messaging is. Carbide’s confused: this is way more preparation than he’s put into all the dates in his life combined.

Vir tells Star, “I’m your messenger of scariness! Can you be scary and alluring at the same time? Like Eely!” Star replies that they can be both scary and alluring, she does that a lot… but not like Eely. She was a Japanese schoolgirl with some experience with tentacles – though she never got royalties from that – “You want to be graceful and powerful and not slimy.”

Friction suggests a nacreous, wet look, iridescent shimmers. Paragon suggests a Victorian suit with cravat, putting the seaweed and tentacle themes in to the cravat and frock coat. Friction’s impressed and more than a little surprised. Paragon tells her she just looks like a homeless kid.

Friction leaves to work up final designs.

Paragon discusses the space noodle job. Vir wants to go with: there’s a guy on the station who specializes in exotic creatures, and Eely needs a doctor appointment. Paragon explains the sticking point: Sata Aviation’s security scan is run against public records, including the bounty database.

Carbide notes that there must be some sort of rich-people work-around. Paragon digs, and yes, there’s an “Executive Pre-Clearance Program.” There’s an NB10k fee, and you can submit your scans remotely, and then on arrival you’re just scanned for a match against what’s on file, not the public databases. You have to supply an NB5k deposit, that’s refundable on your return. The system’s just designed to prevent bounty jumping and violence on the station. Paragon gets that set up.

She asks if anybody else wants to go. “Do you want a noodle recipe, Star?” “Eventually, I mean, I used to like noodles.” She thinks she’s too high-profile for this operation, though. Carbide also thinks it’s not a good idea to be in the same high-security location as Paragon. This works for Paragon: their cover can be a rich-people date.

Before then, though, Vir’s going to work up an aerosolized drug, while Carbide builds the fog machine. Star follows up with her accountant, directint them to acquire more Horizon stock in anticipation of the cult generating demand for synth work. Her business manager is still looking into the majority stakeholder in the warehouse.

Vir decides to just goe with the formula as-is rather than tweaking it, and synthesizes the aerosol version.

Carbide, however, is having a bad day: he forgot to ground a wire on his workbench and jogs the elbow of his cyberarm into it, spasming, and bats the fog machine into the wall, shattering it, just as Star comes by: “Hey how’s my fog ma – WHAT DID YOU DO?!” The second half falls out of the wall by her head. “Should I call back at a better time?” Yes, as Carbide is opening up his cyberarm for a diagnostic.

At Sata Aviation, the clerk sees that Paragon is an Executive Pre-Clearance customer and tries to upsell her into first class for a good discount. She explains that her companion for the evening is of different financial cirumstances, and she doesn’t want to overwhelm them on their first trip to space. The clerk smiles knowingly.

Paragon tells Vir, “they might think you’re my significant other, so just roll with it – I’m taking you on a really impressive first date in space.” Vir loops their arm through Paragon’s and looks attached.

On arrival, the spaceport lounge is full of hucksters and guides. They cut through the crowd out onto the main promenade, and find an information terminal. They don’t want to split up, so they’ll do the pet store first and noodles after: “We go to noodles togethger, we can pretend we’re on a date while you’re hacking”. “And if you have to hustle me out quickly, that too is well within the realm of a date. Don’t let me bleed into my food.”

They arrive at Jexxin’s Exotic Supply and Care, which seems to be run by Benzites. The clerk charges Vir NB50 for a diagnostic, returning in a few minutes with good news: their water just didn’t have the right chemical nutrient balance. They sell Vir a 2 kilo sack of chemicals for NB15, and tell them to change the water every one to three days. They have a groundside branch that sells the chemicals – and if they ever need any other exotics, just call! Not targs, though, not these days – they’re just not worth the hassle from Customs and Immigration.

They make their way to Chao’s Noodles, which is quite nice, if touristy, and are escorted to a secluded booth. However, before they can order, and just after Paragon’s set Dino up to ping the network, a very large cybered-up gentleman in a good suit comes by. Chao’s has an absolute no-deckers policy. If the young lady would like to store her deck in a secure locker while she enjoys her date?

Paragon inspects the storage locker and puts Dino inside, and kisses him on the head and promises to come back soon. She asks for a tiny night light, since he doesn’t like the dark. The security guy is amused, and glad the nerd’s being compliant, so agrees, and tells them they’re comping appetizers for the interruption.

Paragon actually orders the ginger fish lo mein, as she tries to figure out how she was made. She notices scanners only in the entry way, and notes that she was made right off but not dealt with until she actively pinged. In theory, if she gets into a different space, maybe the next deck up or down, she can hack in without triggering the scanner.

They enjoy their dinner, then head up a deck. Right above the restaurant is a game arcade, loud/dark/bright, people yelling, lots of ambient noises. There’s a dance game area right above the network node. Paragon gives her spare cash to Vir to play, and leans on the railing, looking like a supportive partner as perfect cover for her hack. And Vir’s not bad! Not good, but not bad!

The network is small but deadly. Paragon slides right past the anti-software defenses and takes out the anti-personnel Black Ice before it can even get an attack off – but fails on the password for the key file. She plants a virus giving her system access and examines the system node: apparently there’s a class of master user called “Chef” that has access to the key file. Another virus gives her Chef access, and the file is hers. She’s able to remove the viruses and get out of the system leaving no evidence at all that she was in.

Unfortunately, in the meantime Vir sprained their ankle on the dance machine! So they call a night, and they head back planetside.

At home, Paragon makes a duplicate of the file, stored elsewhere in Dino’s encrypted files. She sends the original to Snow. Just after she’s fallen asleep, her agent pings with a payday. She forwards 25K to Vir, and goes back to sleep.