Page 20: The morning after

Matthias’ eyes opened on a blue pillow, wooden floorboards, clothes strewn across the floor. His memory was staccato. An unfamiliar warmth, a pleasure, an excitement tainted it all. The black seats of their booth at the nightclub, dozens of drinks, he recalled lying against Courtney on the seat, hands swimming inside each others clothes, mouths locked. He saw himself hanging by one arm from the balcony over the floor below, and pulling himself upwards, the crowd watching. Outside the club. Blood streamed between the fingers of a man cupping his face. Screaming. Running through streets in company, scared, laughing, a haze of colour and streetlights. Finally, he remembered lying on a rooftop, watching the sun rise.
He rolled on to his right side. But it was too easy, there was no arm in the way. His left calf felt misaligned. He brought the leg to his chest and attempted to shift it back into place. One arm wouldn’t do.
He gazed over the room. A T.V. was mounted by the ceiling above an old wooden chest of drawers by the end of the bed. Pink sheets lay beneath him, a pile of blankets only half-covered his body. There was a warm depression in the bed beside him, but he was alone. With a burst of radio data, he attempted to ping the arm, hoping it might be nearby. Nothing.
The sound of feet padding across the floor drew his attention. A tongue lapped at his toes. Matthias sat up, peering towards the far edge of the bed. A black and white labrador gazed up at him through a pair of milky blue eyes.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you were Courtney.’
The dog leapt onto the bed and padded towards the centre.
‘Would you care to snuggle? Or have we had enough of that already?’
Without waiting for a response, she lazed in a heap, resting her head against his chest.
‘I don’t mind,’ Matthias answered, petting her scalp. ‘I’m sorry, what was your name?’
‘Martha. But you can call me Em.’
‘I’m Matthias.’
Another pair of feet padded nearby, a pair of taut, smooth, naked thighs emerged from a doorway at the corner of the room
‘Martha..’ Courtney sighed.
‘He said he was good for it,’ Martha answered, her tail wagging just a little.
‘I’m sorry,’ Courtney apologised, approaching the bed, scrubbing at her hair with a towel, another about her waist. ‘She can be a little overaffectionate.’
‘She’s just saying that for your benefit,’ Martha grunted, even as she came to her feet and padded off the edge of the bed.
‘Fall back asleep?’ Courtney smiled. She left a towel on the bedside table and lay down bedside him, approaching his lips for a kiss.
‘Yeah, I guess I did. Did you have a good night?’
‘Amazing,’ she smiled.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,’ Matthias laughed. ‘I.. seem to have a few gaps. Was in a fight?’
‘He had it coming,’ she dropped her eyes, scowling.
‘He?’
‘A bouncer with a god complex,’ she scowled. ‘Not saying you’ll be able to go back any time soon..’
‘Huh. ..Did we spend the morning on a rooftop?’
She propped herself up with one arm, a quizzical expression on her face. ‘You didn’t forget that?’
‘No, just checking.’
‘Yeah, we did. Spiderman.’
‘I.. carried you up there, didn’t I?’ Matthias sank back against the pillows.
‘You’re lucky I let you!’
‘A good night then,’ Matthias mused.
‘Mhm.’
‘Courtney. Where’s my arm?’
She laughed, sweeping hair away from her face. ‘Oh please tell me you remember that!’
He wore a smile, laughing with her even as he was concerned, ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t.’
‘You’re a massive dork.’
‘Is it.. someplace I can get it back?’
‘Maybe. You left it in a dumpster by the club.. after using it in a sword-fight with Dennis. Do you want my record?’ She drew her fingers towards her temple. ‘I saved it..’
‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I should probably go and rescue it.’ He moved to sit up but Courtney placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.
‘You probably should,’ she said, climbing atop his lap, tugging away her towel. ‘But I’m not done with you yet.’

Page 18: Matthias’ first night out

Matthias found himself standing in the street, metres from the lobby to his apartment building. Hesitating at the lights, he opted to approach the side of the building, and walked around to the rear. Between a chain-link fence and the rear wall, amidst garbage bags and discarded newspaper, he located an exhaust fan connecting to the air conditioning ducts. Kneeling, he pulled the unit from the wall, leaving an open path inside.

A call came through: it was Dennis.

‘Matty!’ Dennis’ voice clipped as he yelled over music in the background. ‘Mecha is having free drinks tonight for those on the list, and guess who’s on the list?’

The breeze swept refuse over Matthias’ feet, his eyes still focused on the hole in the wall.

‘I give up.’

‘You’re on the list, pal. Now get your ass down here, I have a slew of shots lined up for you and I won’t take no for an answer.’

Matthias hesitated.

‘It doesn’t matter about the arm! Chicks these days love that stuff. You can make out you’re in the army. Come to Mecha, right now, or I will disown you.’

Dennis closed the call.

***

The outside of the club was ablaze with coloured lighting, scattered inebriated revellers wandered the streets between two public teleporters. Digital posters glowed from units set into the wall advertising bands and public service announcements. A conspicuous caption warned “DON’T DRINK AND DIAL.”

Matthias squeezed his way through a queue, timid in the face of the loud and drunken crowd. Cash and cigarettes littered the pavement like confetti. He came to the front of the crowd finding a trio of bouncers in black suits guarding the gate. He pressed forwards.

‘Step back.’

‘I’m on the list,’ Matthias replied.

‘I don’t care.’

‘Look my friend told me to come down here, apparently I’m on the list, I’m clear to get in.’

‘Not tonight, pal.’

A fight broke out in the crowd behind him and Matthias was shoved hard from behind. Folding against the gate, the bouncer shoved him aside as the three moved into the crowd. With the bouncers preoccupied and the door unguarded, he slipped the gate and pressed inside.

The doors collected behind him in a dark reception. A bouncer stared at him with crossed arms beside a masked payment booth. Matthias stepped slowly to the counter.

‘Hi,’ Matthias said. ‘Matthias Drake? Apparently I’m on the list.’

‘Yeah, just let me check that,’ the cashier said. Red fingernails scratched at the surface of a keyboard.

‘Paid for by Dennis. You can go in.’

Beyond the bouncer lie a pair of heavy oak doors. Pressing inside, he was dazzled by a massive chamber of shifting coloured lights and lasers, the crowd so thick that walking was like pressing through the sea. Great white lights shot across the room, illuminating dancers on a starfish-shaped stage. In the far corners of the room, barred podiums held women in extravagant synthetic fabrics, a thrashing haze of sweat, skin and tossed hair, eyes glowing, their faces augmented, synthetic tattoos crawling across their skin.

Climbing stairs, enmeshed between patrons, Matthias was studying those faces he could. He was walking along a balcony, a bar by the wall and booth seating by the rail when he noticed Dennis sitting in a booth ahead.

‘Matthias!’ Dennis’ mouth called, inaudible over the thumping beats. ‘Get over here!’

A blonde girl in a faux leather top and short skirt took a shot beside him and coughed, sputtering, throwing Dennis into laughter. Dennis placed a hand on her back and spoke into her ear. As Matthias closed on the table, the face and legs of a brunette emerged from the seat opposite. Her blue eyes shimmered from augmentation, teeth so white they caught the effects of blacklights overhead. She gave him a smile and retreated to the rail, allowing him space to be seated.

Dennis leaned over as he sat down.

‘This is Courtney! She has a thing for guys with implants!’

Matthias gazed on his impromptu date. She smiled and then leaned in to his ear to speak. ‘Hi! I’m Courtney!’

‘Matthias!’

‘You work with Dennis?’

‘Yeah! Natural Robotics!’

‘Where?’

She leaned in so that their torsos were almost touching.

‘Natural Robotics. We make those talking dogs.’

‘Oh, I love those! I have one at home.’