I spent the better part of an hour examining the recordings of Isbrand. Much of it was unusable or useless, but I still cobbled together a proper exhibition. I was making a final pass to add notes when I received a communication ping. I opened my eyes, slipping out of incarnated space. A small blinking light was in the corner of my vision, an indicator of my waiting correspondence. A square display appeared there next, bearing the name Jakob. I reached out to open the message. The smiling visage of a bespectacled man greeted me.

  “Nice to see you haven’t rotted away up there, buddy,” Jakob said. “Your pretty little assistant told me you’ve got something urgent to discuss!”

  “It’s good to see you again, too, Jakob,” I said, rolling my eyes to one side. “I’d love to have our usual back-and-forth, but there is an actual problem I need your help with.”

  “Alright, alright. I’ll let you off this time. What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Jakob asked.

  “It’s nothing I can talk about over an unprotected connection. We need to meet face-to-face,” I said.

  “Ooh, intimate,” Jakob said, stifling a laugh.

  “So, can I come down there or not?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just gotta tidy up a bit. I’ll see you when you get here,” Jakob said.

  “Good. We’ll talk soon,” I said, ending the call.

  I willed my rig to sit upright and disconnected the cables from my ports. I listened to the series of depressurized clicks as each cable released from my body and withdrew into the machine. I ran my hand over the metal disks embedded in my arm and shoulder and let out a groan. Disconnecting always made them sore. I stood up from the rig, balancing on the arm of the seat as I found steadiness on my feet.

  “Vila, open the storage for my Proxy,” I said, taking a few shaky steps toward an indented space in the nearby wall.

  “Right away, sir,” Vila chimed. The indent in the wall started to rotate. The mechanism hummed lightly before the wall split down the middle and opened to reveal a space inside. A humanoid figure stood in the recess, silent and still. Its body was made of a smooth, translucent material with an off-white color. I reached behind the figure, feeling around its neck for the connection cable. My fingers brushed cold metal, and I took hold, pulling the cable out and getting a better hold on the connector. I held the cable close to the port on the underside of my wrist. It moved independently, snaking into my body through the port. I willed the Proxy to activate and watched the machine step quickly out of its charging station in the wall. The Proxy turned to me and bowed its head slowly.

  “Standby for transfer,” I instructed. The Proxy raised its head and nodded. I disconnected the cable from my wrist and returned to my rig. I sat down and got plugged in before incarnating inside the Proxy. One moment, I was back in my rig, and now I was standing near the wall. Incarnating over a short distance could be jarring.

  The Proxy was a serviceable body to inhabit. It couldn’t match the smooth, seamless feel of a proper Incarnum, but it served its purpose. I walked over to my real body in the rig, readjusting to the Proxy’s mechanical limbs. The difference in strength was always what threw me off the most. I looked down at myself through the camera nestled in the center of the Proxy’s head. My skin was a pale, fleshy brown. I had long, unkempt, dark brown hair that fell to my neck. My cheeks were covered by a thin and patchy mess of facial hair. Whenever I looked at myself, I could only think one thing: you’re frail.

  I tore myself away from navel-gazing and headed to the door of my room. I stood frozen at the precipice, unable to reach out and open it.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I chastised myself. I wasn’t actually leaving. I would still be right here in my room. I stared at the door for a moment before allowing it to open. The door slid aside, revealing a well-lit hallway. I leaned my head out into the hall, steadying myself against the door frame. The area was mercifully empty. I waited a little longer to ensure I was alone before stepping out into the hall and closing the door to my room. I stopped to signal the door to lock and quickly shuffled down the hallway to the row of elevators at the far end. I stood waiting for an elevator to arrive; the sensors had picked me up already and called one of the many platforms to my floor. I was only a few stories down from the top, which made for a torturous wait. I looked around absently, unsure where to rest my gaze. Everything about the building was utilitarian and efficient, a sea of gray, charcoal, and eggshell white that blended together. It had been chosen for me by Maria and paid for on her credit, so there was little room to complain. What this place lacked in aesthetics was compensated by isolation. I didn’t know the exact number of tenets, but they had to be below average. It was close to five years since I had been living here, and I had only been subjected to personal interactions a handful of times.

  I was caught off guard when the elevator doors slid open. It was unoccupied, much to my relief. I stepped inside and waited for the doors to slide shut behind me.

  “Lobby,” I said. A small display window near the door lit up, showing my current position in the building and the now descending elevator. “Switch to a clear view,” I instructed. The elevator walls changed, becoming transparent and offering me a view of the city as I went down. The city stretched out farther than my eyes could see in each direction. Everywhere I looked was a teeming mass of lights and movement. I was being lowered into hell. I turned my gaze back up into the sky, towards salvation. My time was cut short as the walls lost transparency, and the elevator slowed to a stop.

  The doors slid open, and I stepped out into the main lobby of the building. It was empty save for one man stationed in a cubicle near the middle of the room. He was dressed in a drab silver uniform and raised a hand to greet me as I slowly approached.

  “Good evening; how can I help you?” He asked, his tone formal and even.

  “I need to arrange transport for one. Bill it to suite two-twelve,” I said. The man nodded and looked down at a screen on his desk.

  “Of course, Mr. Caldburn. An RPAC will be here to collect you shortly. Is there anything else I can help you with?” The man asked.

  “Nothing else, thanks. I’ll just wait outside,” I said.

  “Have a pleasant night,” he said, returning to the screen on his desk. I turned and walked to the front doors, heading outside to the platform. I had disabled the olfactory sense of this Proxy unit ages ago. I didn’t even want to imagine the strength of the odor outside. I turned my mind off it to watch for my ride instead.

  Minutes later, a vehicle drew closer to the platform and landed. It was shaped like a teardrop with a flat underside and made of smooth black metal. A door into the cab slid open, and a small display lit up with my name on the side. I walked to the RPAC and climbed inside. The interior was built for spaciousness and comfort. I sat in one of several plush chairs and watched the door close.

  “Welcome aboard, Sir. Where are you heading?” a mechanical voice asked, its tone modulated towards happy subservience. RPACs like this were piloted remotely through incarnation.

  “Take me to these coordinates,” I said, mentally transferring the location of Jakob’s building.

  “Right away, sir,” the pilot responded. The cab lifted into the air in near silence; its only sound was a steady, low humming from the underside. “Given current traffic and weather patterns along our route, we have an ETA of fourteen minutes.”

  “The faster, the better,” I said absently, staring into the city through the large side windows.

  “Would you like some entertainment or music, sir? We have a large selection of…” The voice started, but I quickly cut it off.

  “No. I want things quiet.” I interrupted. The pilot went silent in response. The city sailed past at a dizzying pace as the trip progressed. We dropped level after level as the lights from buildings, advertisements, and other RPACs blurred together haphazardly. The corridors between the buildings and pathways closed around us as we descended into the lower city. Even inside the cab, I could start to feel a sense of uncomfortable nearness to everything. People were packed together so tightly here. I couldn’t fathom how they managed it. They must have been a more substantial sort than I.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The RPAC finally arrived at Jakob’s building, landing on a tiny sliver of a platform compared to where we had departed. The door slid open and waited for me to disembark. A large crowd was outside, walking in different directions along the surrounding pathways. I realized I was taking an inordinate amount of time to leave the cab. I had work to do. Important work. I needed to get up.

  “… Sir? Is there a problem?” The pilot asked. It was enough to break me from my hesitation.

  “No. Wait for me on the platform.” I said, finally lifting myself out of my chair and climbing out the door. The door slid closed, and the display on the cab read ‘Standby Mode.’ I turned from the cab and walked towards Jakob’s building, doing my best to avoid others in my path. I made it to the front door and stepped inside. The lobby here was nothing like my own. It was cramped and looked like it was in desperate need of cleaning. I stepped over to a small kiosk display on the wall and used it to look up Jakob’s room number. It was one of the innumerable things about the world out there I had forgotten.

  I walked down the long corridor of the building for several minutes before I reached Jakob’s door and knocked lightly. I could hear a shuffling from inside the room, and then the door slid aside. Jakob stood in the door frame with a sour expression.

  “Well, this is typical. You get me all excited and make me clean and reorganize around here, thinking you’re showing up in the flesh!” He exclaimed, throwing up a hand in mock exasperation. “But the best you can muster is a junk model Proxy.”

  “You’re lucky I came down here at all. My junk Proxy is the only thing for miles that doesn’t need fumigating.” I spat back. Jakob let out a throaty chuckle and smiled, stepping aside from the door to let me in.

  “Yeah, yeah, you fucking prig. Get in here,” he said. “You should upgrade from that model, though; it’s been recalled a dozen-odd times.”

  “And deprive you the privilege of repairing it? Never.” I said, walking into Jakob’s room. The size of this place always struck me when I visited. There was barely enough room for a single bed, a table, two chairs, and a small chair in the corner attached to several machines that made up Jakob’s rig. I walked to one of the chairs at the table and sat down. Jakob followed suit and sat across from me.

  “Alright, alright, let’s have this urgent conversation you need. What’s going on?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “I need you to review some footage I’ve compiled from Isbrand’s mission logs. Tell me if anything can be improved in an immediate time frame. With particular emphasis on combat efficiency and control,” I explained.

  “I mean, I can do that, but I don’t see why that constitutes all this secrecy,” He prodded.

  “It’s D.I.C.E business. Suffice to say, I’ve been backed into a corner, and Isbrand is the only solution I can see.”

  “Leave it to a Dealer to get himself into a shit show. That’s practically your entire job description, right?” Jakob said, unable to suppress a smirk.

  “It does come with the territory,” I admitted. “That doesn’t change the fact that I could use your help.”

  “Ok, ok, but only because you appealed to my kind and hospitable nature,” Jakob said, standing from the table and walking over to his makeshift rig. “Just connect to the spare port and give me the footage,” he said. I stood and brought a chair to his side, sitting down and connecting a spare cable to the Proxy’s port. The connection was solid, and the transfer took mere moments.

  “How long do you need?” I asked.

  “Oh, this old girl might not be easy on the eyes, but she’s a powerhouse. I’ll futz with the time perception settings a bit. Five minutes should give me an hour or so to review it,” Jakob said.

  “Is that safe for you?” I asked.

  “Hey, hey, I might not be Mr. Top-of-the-class incarnation score, but I can hold my own. Do you want my help or not?” He asked, feigning indignation.

  “By all means, please, it’s your gray matter to torch,” I said.

  “Then sit tight,” Jakob said, connecting a cable to the single port in his neck and closing his eyes. I was left to sit alone as Jakob worked. I appreciated his help, but a part of me was still worried about him. Psyche overload in a rig was commonplace, and the results were never pretty. In the best of cases, you became catatonic. Most weren’t that lucky, ending up in the express lane to becoming an Impulsate. There were only two options after that; death or exile.

  The minutes stretched on as my fears mounted. After what felt like a dangerous amount of time, Jakob finally opened his eyes and disconnected from the rig. He groaned and rubbed both his temples gingerly.

  “Fuck, I think I flash-fried a few circuits for that one,” Jakob complained.

  “I tried to warn you,” I said. It was my turn to smirk.

  “Yeah, yeah. Piss off,” Jakob said, standing from the chair and stretching.

  “So what’s the word?” I asked.

  “I don’t know how more combat efficient you can make that monstrosity,” Jakob said.

  “I’m leaning more towards the control issue,” I admitted.

  “Right, right. You need a leash and a strong one at that.” Jakob said.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “The way I see it, you’ve got two good options,” Jakob started. “Number one, and my personal recommendation, you feed the beast before the operation so it’s less likely to run off the rails.”

  “Next option,” I scoffed.

  “Now, now, don’t be so dismissive,” Jakob said. “When was the last time you got something a little raw and visceral, so to speak?”

  “It’s out of the question,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of potential playmates…” Jakob said, trailing off as he made a show of looking my Proxy up and down. “Or maybe you don’t.”

  “Out of the question,” I repeated, annoyed.

  “You could always ask your Vila, I’m sure you’ve thought about it before…” Jakob taunted.

  “Oh fuck off, Jakob, I came here for help!” I said, incensed. A cage rattled somewhere deep in my mind. I couldn’t tell if it was in anger or agreement.

  “Don’t fry a port. It’s only a bit of fun,” Jakob said, gesturing to calm me down with both hands.

  “Moving on then. What’s the other option?” I said, hoping to move out of this uncomfortable territory.

  “Install a kill switch for the Incarnum’s sensors,” Jakob said. “You give anyone caught in Isbrand’s path a fair shake at getting away.”

  “While leaving myself senseless in combat,” I added.

  “I did say the first option was my personal recommendation,” Jakob reminded me.

  “Yes, I recall,” I said. “I suppose it’s better than having nothing.”

  Jakob was quiet for a long time, a look of deep consideration tinged with worry on his face.

  “There…could be another option. It’s not a good one. It’s a massive risk to you.” Jakob said.

  “I’m willing to entertain it,” I said.

  “If you’re not going to use indulgence, bring something more appealing to bargain with,” Jakob said.

  “I don’t follow,” I said.

  “You’ve got to make some concessions towards cooperation,” Jakob explained.

  “Now I know you’re fucking with me,” I said, incredulous.

  “If you can find some way to work with Isbrand instead of against him, you could find more success,” Jakob said.

  “Or I could end up an Impulsate,” I countered.

  “That is the massive risk I mentioned,” Jakob reminded me.

  “I’ll keep that option tucked away for a rainy day then?” I said, oozing sarcasm.

  “Fine. I’m just offering other solutions. You’ll take the kill switch instead?” Jakob asked.

  “Yes, thank you. I appreciate your help, Jakob. It’s not my intention to vent my frustration on you,” I said.

  “It’s alright; don’t get weepy on me,” Jakob said, holding up a hand to quiet me. “I’ll send you the kill switch program; just be sure to integrate it into the Incarnum properly.

  “Of course. Thank you again, Jakob, for everything,” I said.

  “Don’t sweat it; you’d do the same for me if I needed help,” he said.

  “If you do need anything, tell me. I’d be happy to assist,” I said.

  “I’ll think of something one of these days,” He said. “Maybe just put in a good word for me with Vila?”

  “Not on your life,” I said, standing up from my chair and heading to the door.

  “You can’t blame me for trying,” Jakob said, smirking again.

  “I can, and I do. Goodbye, Jakob, I’ll talk to you later,” I said.

  “You’d better. I don’t want the next thing I hear about you to be from some schlock news feed,” Jakob warned.

  “You’ll be the first to know if I’m flat-lined,” I called back, opening the door and heading outside.

  “Dibs on your rig, by the way!” Jakob got in a final jab as I closed the door to his room.

  I walked down the hall and back outside. I snaked my way through the crowds outside and finally made it back into the RPAC.

  “Welcome back, Sir. Where to now?” The pilot’s modulated voice chimed at me as I sat back down inside. I gave the coordinates to my garage and settled into the chair to think. The reality of this operation was starting to take shape, and I didn’t like it. No matter the angle I approached it, the margin for error was razor thin, and the failure price grew with each new variable added. Dealers really did excel at getting into pandemonium.

  My silent contemplation was suddenly interrupted as a large display lit up in the cab, with the words “Breaking News” scrolling across it and a loud, obnoxious theme song playing.

  “I thought I said I wanted quiet?” I complained to the pilot.

  “Sorry, sir, it’s an emergency feature that overrides passenger settings,” The pilot explained.

  “We interrupt our regular broadcast schedule to bring you a special report from the lower east habitation section,” The anchorman said in a practiced and sensationalized tone. “A habitation block owned and managed by the Trevelli corporation is playing host to an infection of rampant and unchecked Impulsates, according to our sources.”

  “There’s no fucking way…” I muttered, suddenly glued to the screen. They cut from the anchor to overhead footage of the habitation block. The building was surrounded by Enforcers that looked to be holding back a growing crowd of onlookers. The air around the building swarmed with camera drones looking for a good shot of the mounting chaos.

  How was I going to release Isbrand into that building now?

  I received a communication ping before I could even muster half an answer to that question.

  The display in the corner of my vision informed me Maria Caligo was calling.