Bitmites
At this point, there was no doubt in Jack’s mind that he had landed in the future. The flying vehicles, monstrously tall buildings and strange technology had sort of given it away. He took a moment to ponder over the complexities of the time-space continuum, and how the temporal and physical were so different in the future… but he stopped before his head started to pound. It wasn’t until he stepped into Netto’s room that he knew exactly what ‘the future’ meant.
Netto’s room was probably one of the bigger rooms that Jack had seen… but it’s size was cut down by the masses of bundled wires that spiraled up and down the walls, stretching overhead like fleshy hammocks, and twisting into tight coils around several computer monitors. Little flowers of light blipped into life in the thicket of wire bundles, which were glowing with streams of green light. A few big chairs were caught in the cross fire of cables, but there was no bed or other furniture. Only one green wall was weeded of this cable jungle. Pictures flashed across the long wall from no apparent source. Boxes highlighted with neon danced across the surface. Words, pictures, and small videos scrolled through the flying images. Every now and again, as Netto stalked through her room, she would flick her tiny wrist towards the stream of data, and drag a box across the walls, and onto one of the stationary monitors.
“Wow.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, surveying the room with bright eyes. He let out a short laugh, and smiled in his jaw-dropped awe. “WOW.”
“You don’t want to know how much all of this cost me,” Netto said, dismissing his amazement with an off-hand gesture. “Although, I made most of this myself.”
“That’s impressive.” Jack twirled about in a small circle, taking in the beeping madness.
“I didn’t mean it to be.” Netto smiled a bit, covering up the hints of a blush with a small jerk of her shoulders. She sat down in one of the chairs, spinning it around to face one of the monitors. An illuminated green keyboard appeared below her gloved fingers, and she began to type upon it. “You don’t recognize any of this?”
“Not a chance!” Jack replied, peering at the wall of data. He touched one of the small holograms with a finger, and it enlarged so that Jack could read it. D’Capo Family Halts Genetic Research, Capital Reports Today.
“I don’t know how to make you guys believe me.” Jack touched other articles and they enlarged on the wall in front of him. “I don’t know anything about anything.”
“Are you from the Upper District?” she asked carefully. “It’s okay. Really. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want, I’m just trying to figure out what happened to you. It’s possible that your brain has been damaged, causing a lapse in memory.”
“I’m not from the Upper District.”
“Then––”
“Will the bitmites tell us if my brain is damaged?” Jack almost hoped that they would. If only the City of All Cities was an elaborate psychotic delusion, something he could dismiss and never think of again.
“Yes.” Netto dragged a heavy silver case to her lap. With a flick of her thumbs, she snapped the locks up. A whispering hiss slipped out of the crevice, as she pulled back the lid…
Netto held a small vial in front of Jack. The substance inside was impossibly black. The darkness swallowed up the threads of light around it, so sharply colorless that it hurt to look at. The blackness was neither liquid nor gas, but it swirled in a way that no solid would. Every now and again, green light would dance off of the vial, and the black would spin away from it. It seemed almost… alive.
“Bitmites.” Jack said, his eyes locked onto the vial. As the word left his tongue, he could almost see it traveling to the blackness. Without eyes, it returned Jack’s look.
“Yes,” Netto breathed, drawing a syringe from the case. She set it aside, and walked forward to Jack. “Sit down.”
“Is it dangerous?” he asked, transfixed by the eerie darkness. He sat.
“Actually, it’s a lot safer to have them nowadays than to not have them at all.” Netto swiveled the needle upwards, and jabbed it into the top of the vial. “We’ll be able to tell where you are, and to tell you where to go.” She pulled back on the syringe, and the web of black leaped up through the needle. “That is, if you’ll be on another mission.”
She stepped back, and for the first time she looked Jack in the eyes. Her cybershades were pressed back into her mess of hair, revealing startlingly bright brown eyes. “There are always dangers… they’re basically tiny computers that work with your mind.”
“Will they… change anything?”
“They won’t do anything without your permission, no.” She twiddled the syringe in between her fingers. “That’s not the problem. You’ll be protected from any outside interferences—after all, I’m one of the best hackers in the street level. But there’s always the risk that someone will get inside your mind and change something.”
She stepped forward.
Jack took a deep breath. “How do you make them?” he asked, eying that mysterious darkness still.
Netto shrugged. “Even I don’t know how.” She pushed back Jack’s chair until he was lying on his back.
“Well, where do they come from?”
Netto held back Jack’s head with two cold fingers. In her other hand, she held the needle steady. “Who knows?”
She drove the needle between his eyes.
A wave of motion poured over him. Every drop was a single question in an infinite ocean of ideas. A roar, a rush of sound and feeling, a convulsing compulsion to call out to them, can you feel us? Everything was swarmed with the sharp darkness, a cacophony of cries, what do you feel? Drowning in ideas, of visions, of dreams, of sounds, of words, of concepts, of music, of color, a million tiny grains of sand, each one of them a name, an Idea of what We could Be. What should we be? Every inch of our bodies, every corner of our souls, a single answer is waiting, dreaming, what is a dream? A tempest of tremors underneath your skin, a war of water against land, what does it mean? Who are you?
"Jack?"
At this point, there was no doubt in Jack’s mind that he had landed in the future. The flying vehicles, monstrously tall buildings and strange technology had sort of given it away. He took a moment to ponder over the complexities of the time-space continuum, and how the temporal and physical were so different in the future… but he stopped before his head started to pound. It wasn’t until he stepped into Netto’s room that he knew exactly what ‘the future’ meant.
Netto’s room was probably one of the bigger rooms that Jack had seen… but it’s size was cut down by the masses of bundled wires that spiraled up and down the walls, stretching overhead like fleshy hammocks, and twisting into tight coils around several computer monitors. Little flowers of light blipped into life in the thicket of wire bundles, which were glowing with streams of green light. A few big chairs were caught in the cross fire of cables, but there was no bed or other furniture. Only one green wall was weeded of this cable jungle. Pictures flashed across the long wall from no apparent source. Boxes highlighted with neon danced across the surface. Words, pictures, and small videos scrolled through the flying images. Every now and again, as Netto stalked through her room, she would flick her tiny wrist towards the stream of data, and drag a box across the walls, and onto one of the stationary monitors.
“Wow.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, surveying the room with bright eyes. He let out a short laugh, and smiled in his jaw-dropped awe. “WOW.”
“You don’t want to know how much all of this cost me,” Netto said, dismissing his amazement with an off-hand gesture. “Although, I made most of this myself.”
“That’s impressive.” Jack twirled about in a small circle, taking in the beeping madness.
“I didn’t mean it to be.” Netto smiled a bit, covering up the hints of a blush with a small jerk of her shoulders. She sat down in one of the chairs, spinning it around to face one of the monitors. An illuminated green keyboard appeared below her gloved fingers, and she began to type upon it. “You don’t recognize any of this?”
“Not a chance!” Jack replied, peering at the wall of data. He touched one of the small holograms with a finger, and it enlarged so that Jack could read it. D’Capo Family Halts Genetic Research, Capital Reports Today.
“I don’t know how to make you guys believe me.” Jack touched other articles and they enlarged on the wall in front of him. “I don’t know anything about anything.”
“Are you from the Upper District?” she asked carefully. “It’s okay. Really. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want, I’m just trying to figure out what happened to you. It’s possible that your brain has been damaged, causing a lapse in memory.”
“I’m not from the Upper District.”
“Then––”
“Will the bitmites tell us if my brain is damaged?” Jack almost hoped that they would. If only the City of All Cities was an elaborate psychotic delusion, something he could dismiss and never think of again.
“Yes.” Netto dragged a heavy silver case to her lap. With a flick of her thumbs, she snapped the locks up. A whispering hiss slipped out of the crevice, as she pulled back the lid…
Netto held a small vial in front of Jack. The substance inside was impossibly black. The darkness swallowed up the threads of light around it, so sharply colorless that it hurt to look at. The blackness was neither liquid nor gas, but it swirled in a way that no solid would. Every now and again, green light would dance off of the vial, and the black would spin away from it. It seemed almost… alive.
“Bitmites.” Jack said, his eyes locked onto the vial. As the word left his tongue, he could almost see it traveling to the blackness. Without eyes, it returned Jack’s look.
“Yes,” Netto breathed, drawing a syringe from the case. She set it aside, and walked forward to Jack. “Sit down.”
“Is it dangerous?” he asked, transfixed by the eerie darkness. He sat.
“Actually, it’s a lot safer to have them nowadays than to not have them at all.” Netto swiveled the needle upwards, and jabbed it into the top of the vial. “We’ll be able to tell where you are, and to tell you where to go.” She pulled back on the syringe, and the web of black leaped up through the needle. “That is, if you’ll be on another mission.”
She stepped back, and for the first time she looked Jack in the eyes. Her cybershades were pressed back into her mess of hair, revealing startlingly bright brown eyes. “There are always dangers… they’re basically tiny computers that work with your mind.”
“Will they… change anything?”
“They won’t do anything without your permission, no.” She twiddled the syringe in between her fingers. “That’s not the problem. You’ll be protected from any outside interferences—after all, I’m one of the best hackers in the street level. But there’s always the risk that someone will get inside your mind and change something.”
She stepped forward.
Jack took a deep breath. “How do you make them?” he asked, eying that mysterious darkness still.
Netto shrugged. “Even I don’t know how.” She pushed back Jack’s chair until he was lying on his back.
“Well, where do they come from?”
Netto held back Jack’s head with two cold fingers. In her other hand, she held the needle steady. “Who knows?”
She drove the needle between his eyes.
A wave of motion poured over him. Every drop was a single question in an infinite ocean of ideas. A roar, a rush of sound and feeling, a convulsing compulsion to call out to them, can you feel us? Everything was swarmed with the sharp darkness, a cacophony of cries, what do you feel? Drowning in ideas, of visions, of dreams, of sounds, of words, of concepts, of music, of color, a million tiny grains of sand, each one of them a name, an Idea of what We could Be. What should we be? Every inch of our bodies, every corner of our souls, a single answer is waiting, dreaming, what is a dream? A tempest of tremors underneath your skin, a war of water against land, what does it mean? Who are you?
"Jack?"