___Zwei___
//Perfect. Here's where you need to send the data to//
<<File transfer request::>> BeX_101; Accept? Y/n....
She logs off, leaving you alone again in the shiny, factory-spec host. Its windowless, shiny ceramic white tiling gave it an asylum feel, clinical, sterile. Unnatural.
Shaking off the sensation you set about the rest of your evening
Your mum looked really uncomfy, head lolled to one side, dribbling gently from one side of her mouth.
The re-runs of some old-style soap-opera still played in the background, obviously not stimulating enough to maintain her attention.
She stirs a little as you put the throw around her, rolling slightly into a more comfy position and wincing a little in her sleep at the crack of her stiffened neck.
There was a buzz about the city this evening as you strolled down to Kensington tube station. People seemed happy and up for it, dressed in their glad rags and hammering away enthusiatically on their commlink screens or AR keyboards. You remembered that for wage-slaves, today was payday. That usually meant it'd be a pretty good night to be out on the town.
The train clattered into marylebone underground, sparks occasionally illuminating the darkness of the tunnels as the wheels momentarily slid on their contacts.
Most of the train seemed to disembark onto the already busy platform and the usual jostling and shoving came to play as everyone tried to make their way through the morass of metahumanity, either onto the train or away from the train and onto the escalators.
You were boiling in your finery and were glad when the escalators dumped you into the cavernous concourse of the overground station. Sleek maglevs sat waiting for passengers out to the commuter belt of the south west and south coast and security patrols kept a watchful eye for unruly types as their support drones scanned the passers by.
Heading out into the cold night air, you get your bearings, your AR nav-compass flashing left or right at each junction. The grey drizzle of the afternoon has settled into a clear and cold night, the first scratches of frost attacking the parked car's windscreens and chilling your nose with every breath.
The pool hall hit you with a welcome blast of warm air to the face, the sound of pool balls smacking into one another barely audible over the chatter of the busy bar area and jukebox.
It was bigger than it looked, pool tables arrayed in neat rows beyond a small, half height dividing wall that separated the bar area and a few low tables and comfy chairs from the meat of the business.
A couple of young, studenty looking types manned the busy bar and you spotted Ralph queueing up to get a beer in.
___Scawire___
Smokey bowed its fairly androgynous head in acknowledgement of your gratitude, I'm excited to be here too, I've only been summoned to this plane once or twice and it was a much different country. Tell me, where exactly am I?
Smoke laughs at your last comment, Well it hardly looks like you're spoiled for choice does it? Ok I'll take a look if you give me directions. Anyone or anything specific I'm looking for? If its anything like the docks I saw in Singapore then they'll be really busy..
___Lumen___
Getting out of the small car was a relief, it had been a tedious crawl across the city in shitty traffic. The old Dartford tunnel had roadworks on and tower bridge was up for 30 mins to let shipping through, causing a fucking chaotic city centre.
You preferred your bike for a reason, you'd have done it in 20 mins tops.
Sparking up, you spot the club on the far side of the road, half-choking on your first drag as you spot a well suited bloke leave through the heavy reinforced glass doors and join a throng of foot traffic, disappearing into the crowd. Tim slid the powered up deck under the driver's seat and tried to look natural as he mentally sifted through the local Matrix nodes, sweating slightly with nerves, pressure or both
