A Meeting With De Vaughn

The warm light from the lamp drew her shadow long and high up onto the amber ceiling.  She reached down to caress the grip on the handgun, and then swept it up as if it were weightless.  A few beeps and whirs followed, as the gun’s mechanisms syncronized with her palmlink implant.  Her vision hazed for a moment, similar to what one would experience after standing too quickly — an infinite fractal checkerboard gradually phased in and out before her eyes.  And just as quickly, her vision returned, now with a reticle that scanned over objects in the room, attempting to determine their hostility, as if the lamp would strike out and attack.  The cobalt blue text scrolled at the bottom left edge of her vision, aprising her of status updates to her internal systems.  One final blur of text, like a binary waterfall, and all that remained was the word “Ready.”

She holstered the weapon.

She knew she would have to set out soon.  The contact would not be kept waiting for long before disappearing back into the faceless void of the sprawl.  He had called himself De Vaughn.  It was a code name.  Like all names these days.  But it was a lead, and she knew she couldn’t afford to pass it up.

She reached up and pressed the stud on her neck.  Her vision was once again clouded, but this time, a map appeared, hovering like a digital overlay over everything her eyes fell upon.  Using the stud as a pointing device, she pressed it twice to double click the folder icon which appeared at the bottom-most edge of her peripheral vision.  She dragged a folder of files onto the map and GPS data spilled into her living room.  With a flick of the stud, she minimized the map and folders.

She drew her jacket over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves.  It was time to go.  De Vaughn was waiting.