Just One More Thing… Cyberware!

  

  Jana stopped at a massive steel door etched with neon circuits. Above it, a sign blinked in a language completely alien to Ray: Department of Neon-Edge Gizmos.

  She smirked, punching a code into the door’s keypad with a flourish. “Ready to get geared up, detective?”

  Ray gulped, clutching his hat tighter as the door rumbled to life. “I think I liked the stray dogs better…”

  The double doors to the Department of Neon-Edge Gizmos hissed open with a theatrical puff of neon-blue steam, revealing a sprawling hall that looked like a fever dream mashed up with a junkyard rave. Ray froze mid-step, his fedora tilting as he gaped, while Jana sauntered in like she owned the place, her cat ears perked to catch every whir and buzz.

  The space was a cavernous clash of tech and absurdity. Towering shelves sagged under the weight of bizarre contraptions—some glowing, some smoking, all questionable: a helmet with blinking antennae labeled “Mood-Ray Enhancer,” a pair of boots with springs and tiny jet thrusters duct-taped on, a disco ball that pulsed neon pink and whispered conspiracy theories in binary.

  Desks cluttered the floor like islands in a sea of tech-madness, each one a nest of wires, gears, and glowing doodads—whirring, shaking, even oozing a glittery purple goo.

  Scientists in white lab coats, their hair frizzed from static or sheer exhaustion, darted between stations, shouting over the din. “Increase the flux capacitor’s giggle output!” one barked, while another waved a wrench at a hovering orb that kept chirping “WHEE!” in a pitchy falsetto.

  The room thrummed with the pulse of tech gone rogue—a symphony of clanks and screeches bounced off the walls. Sparks flew like fireflies, tracing wild arcs through the air, while neon strips lining the walls flared in a kaleidoscope of colors—lime green, electric purple, hot magenta—bathing everything in a flickering, otherworldly glow.

  Jana strode through it all like a neon queen, her cat ears twitching as she purred something in Xyberian—a fluid, electric stream of syllables that danced like code through the air.

  She threw a quick wave at the scientists. “Kwe Vyn Syv, tech-heads? Got anything shiny for my vintage pal here?” Ray, trailing behind with his fedora askew and his sack-voyage bumping his knee, squinted at her. He understood nothing; the words bounced off him like static from a busted radio, leaving him stranded in his 50s bubble among this neon fiesta.

  A bespectacled scientist with hair like a lightning-struck tumbleweed shuffled over, his lab coat streaked with glitter and oil. He adjusted his glasses—lenses glowing faintly with embedded HUDs—and traded quick, clipped Xyberian with Jana, their voices a rapid-fire ping-pong of tech jargon and laughter. Ray caught none of it, just the occasional nod and a grin from Jana that spelled trouble.

  The scientist rummaged in a drawer, pulled out a small, sleek, matte-black box etched with glowing runes, and handed it over. Jana spun back to Ray, her eyes glinting with mischief under the neon strobe.

  “Alright, Ray, time to equip you with something useful. No more playing the small-town mime—let’s get you plugged in.”

  She popped the box open, revealing something cute and creepy at the same time: a miniature cybernetic bug that looked like a mad jeweler's dream. Its body gleamed—a tiny, metallic beetle with intricate gears whirring under a chrome shell. Glowing circuits pulsed along its back in waves of teal and amber, and its LED eyes blinked up at Ray, wide and curious. Antennae—thin as hairs but tipped with tiny orbs—wiggled like it was sizing him up, while six spindly legs tapped a little dance on the box’s edge.

  “Meet TALK-E—Translation And Linguistic Knowledge, Experimental,” Jana said, holding it up like a prize. “Cutting-edge prototype, still a bit rough around the circuits. Does the language thing and tags Xyberia’s tech so you don’t call a hover-car a flying saucer. Fair warning: it’s got a personality.” She smirked, clearly enjoying this too much.

  Ray leaned back, eyeing the bug like it might bite. “Uh, you sure about this? Looks like it’s plotting something.” The bug’s LEDs blinked faster, almost indignant, and its antennae gave a sassy flick.

  Jana snorted. “Don’t be a baby, Fedora Fred—it’s fine. Hold still.” And, before Ray could protest, she plucked TALK-E from the box and popped it into his ear with the precision of a street magician.

  A jolt zapped through Ray’s skull—like a static shock crossed with a shot of espresso. He yelped, staggering as his fedora tipped sideways, the sack-voyage thunking to the floor. His vision swam with neon static and his brain buzzed as it was about to short-circuit.

  A dizzying rush of pins and needles raced from his ear to his toes. The bug’s legs tickled as it nestled in, its circuits humming faintly against his skin. Then, just as fast as it hit, the sensation faded, leaving him blinking like he’d just woken up from a nap in a thunderstorm.

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  Then, a voice—snarky, tinny, and dripping with attitude—crackled in his mind. “Well, hello, Ray. Finally, a host with a pulse—though that hat’s a crime scene. I’m TALK-E, your translator and tech whisperer. Let’s see if we can get you talking like a local instead of grunting like a caveman, yeah?” The bug’s tone was pure sass, like a wise-cracking sidekick stuffed into a dime-sized shell.

  Ray’s jaw dropped. He tapped his ear, half-expecting the bug to scurry out. “What the—did that thing just talk to me?” He shook his head like he could dislodge it, but TALK-E just tutted in his mind. “Oh, great, it’s a wise guy.”

  Jana clapped, bouncing on her toes, her cat ears twitching with glee. “Ray, you can speak Xyberian now! Go on, say something!”

  He hesitated, then cleared his throat, feeling ridiculous.

  “Uh… hello?” The word came out halting, but—holy smokes—it wasn’t English. It was Xyberian, smooth and clipped, rolling off his tongue like he’d been born sipping neon lattes. The hall’s buzz sharpened in his ears too—scientists’ chatter snapped into focus: “Reroute the giggle matrix!” “Where’s my flux spanner?”—all clear as day.

  Jana’s eyes sparkled. “Hot damn, Ray, you nailed it!” she crowed.

  “Keep going—gimme a ‘how do you do?’ or something!”

  Ray nodded, trying it out.

  “How do you do?”—perfect Xyberian again, crisp and natural. TALK-E snorted in his head. “Yawn. Try harder, trench-coat.” Ray glanced around, eyes landing on a scientist tweaking a sleek, wrist-mounted device spitting tiny holo-sparks. Without thinking, he pointed and blurted, “Implant Spark-Mapper!”—the Xyberian words tumbling out, precise and confident.

  Jana froze mid-bounce, her grin faltering into wide-eyed shock.

  “Wait—what? How’d you know that?” Ray’s eyes bugged out, his hand slapping his ear. “Right! How do I know that? What’s an Implant Spark-Mapper?!” TALK-E chuckled smugly in his mind. “Wrist gadget, tracks neural implants with holo-pings. You’re welcome, rookie. Act like you meant it.”

  Suddenly, Jana’s shock melted into a cackle, and she jabbed a finger at him.

  “Oh, that’s TALK-E’s Gigapedia mode kicking in! When you look at something, that little bug quick-scans the tech and channels the basics right into your mind, instant know-how! Like a little encyclopedia, but snappier. Not deep stuff, just enough to keep you from gawking at everything like a lost tourist.”

  She grinned wider, leaning in. “Try it again—gimme more!”

  Ray gaped, then swung his gaze to a hovering orb spinning nearby.

  “Gravity Orb!” he said, the Xyberian snapping out like a reflex.

  Then he pointed at a scientist who was fiddling with a glowing slinky, stretching it and letting it bounce back.

  “Pulse Slinky!” TALK-E muttered, “Actually, it’s a Kinetic Pulse Resonator, but close enough, newbie.” Ray shook his head, muttering, “Gigapedia? This bug’s stuffing my brain with gibberish I don’t even get!”

  Jana doubled over laughing, slapping his shoulder, her cat ears twitching like mad.

  “Pulse Slinky?! Oh, I’m keeping you, Ray—you’re a walking Neon-Edge fun! That bug has got you wired and wise—well, wiser.”

  Ray adjusted his fedora, grumbling, “Great, now I’ve got a smart-mouthed encyclopedia in my head.”

  “A sassy encyclopedia with style, partner,” Jana chirped, grabbing his arm and dragging him deeper to a corner where racks and shelves groaned under a riotous jumble of glowing, blinking, and occasionally smoking gadgets.

  “Time to arm you up, detective!”

  She plucked a long, tube-like device striped in candy-bright colors, twirling it like a baton.

  “This beaut’s the Confetti Cannon,” she said with a smirk. “Dazzles your enemies with a barrage of sticky confetti—blinds ‘em with sparkle. Watch this!”

  She leveled it at a battered target dummy across the room, squeezed the trigger, and—POP!—a glittery explosion erupted, coating the dummy in a sparkling mess of confetti that stuck like glue. The thing shimmered under the neon like a disco disaster, and Ray let out a bark of laughter, TALK-E snorting in his head, “Subtle as a parade, huh?”

  Jana tossed the cannon aside and snagged a gun with a swirling, psychedelic barrel.

  “Meet the Giggly Grenade Launcher,” she said, her grin turning wicked. “Launches grenades that burst into laughing gas clouds—perfect for a giggle-fest.” She aimed at a pair of scientists hunched over a whirring contraption, oblivious to her mischief and fired.

  With a thwoomp, a grenade sailed out, bursting midair into a shimmering haze. The scientists froze, then collapsed into hysterics—guffawing, clutching their sides, snorting, one slapping the table so hard his goggles flew off. Ray’s eyes widened, a mix of amazement and alarm.

  “That’s… somethin’ else,” he muttered, and TALK-E chimed, “Yeah, weaponized joy—don’t inhale, trench-coat.”

  She wasn’t done. Jana grabbed a high-tech slingshot, its frame studded with blinking lights. “Bubble Bazooka,” she announced, twirling it like a showoff. “Fires giant, sticky bubbles packed with glitter—good luck moving once you’re caught.” She pulled back the sling, aimed at another dummy, and let loose.

  A shimmering orb the size of a beach ball shot out, wobbling through the air before engulfing the target in a sticky, sparkling sphere. The dummy teetered, trapped like a fly in amber. Ray’s grin stretched ear to ear. "That’s… cool. I love it,” he said, shaking his head. TALK-E grumbling, “Sticky and shiny—Glitter trap. Cute.”

  Suddenly Jana’s eyes lit up like twin neon signs as she snatched a compact weapon from the rack—sleek, neon-accented, and glowing with promise.

  “Ah, here’s your match—NESS, Neon Encapsulating Splatter Shooter. My fave!” She thrust it into Ray’s hands, her cat ears perked high and voice buzzing with excitement. “Fires bioluminescent gel that glows in neon colors and spreads into a sticky web on impact. Immobilizes your enemies and makes ‘em look ridiculous—perfect for you, detective.”

  Ray took the NESS, turning it over in his hands. Its design was slick—chrome curves, glowing teal stripes, a trigger begging to be pulled. It looked like a ray gun from a pulp magazine, only shinier.

  “Sounds like just what I need,” he said, voice brimming with newfound Xyberian swagger thanks to TALK-E.

  Jana nodded, satisfied. “Give it a whirl—hit that target over there!”

  Ray squared his shoulders, adjusted his fedora, and aimed at a dummy across the room. It was just as in his daydream in Dullsville. Even better! He squeezed the trigger with a cocky, “Here goes nothin’.”

  A neon-green splat blasted out—bright, gooey, and promising chaos—but fate (or Ray’s aim) had other plans.

  The gel ricocheted off a stray metal pole with a wet ping, veered wild, and splattered across the department. The glowing goo expanded fast, webs of pink tangling up a rack of gadgets, a buzzing holo-drone, and—uh-oh—two scientists who yelped as they got snared mid-experiment. The room erupted into a mess of glowing webs, blinking contraptions swinging like pi?atas, and scientists erupting into fits of uncontrollable laughter, one muttering Xyberian curses TALK-E translated as, “Who let the rookie loose?!”

  Ray’s face flushed a bright, Dullsville red under his hat. “Oops…” he mumbled, lowering the NESS like a kid caught with a slingshot. TALK-E cackled in his ear, “Smooth move, sharpshooter—redecorating’s your real talent.”

  Jana doubled over, her laughter ringing out like a cyber-bell, her pink glow pulsing brighter.

  “Looks like you’re a natural! Welcome to Xyberian tech, Ray—messy, wild, and oh-so-you!”

  She wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling.

  “Now let’s go meet DAD—he’ll love hearing about this.”

  Ray rubbed his neck, the NESS dangling sheepishly in his grip.

  “If he don’t fire me first,” he muttered, but a grin tugged at his lips as Jana steered him toward the exit, leaving the Neon-Edge Gizmos Department chaos sparkling behind them.