Oshibana Complex E-Book

Craig Hallam

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 150

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Welcome to Shika-One City, humanity’s final home.

Nations have come together. Gender and race are petty concerns of the past. But not everything is well in Shika-One.

Humanity can no longer procreate and has to synthesize future generations. But there aren’t many genetic templates to go around and meeting yourself on the street is a daily occurrence. With so many people wearing the same face, the synths of Shika-One strive for individuality in a world where stepping out of line can lead to the shredder.

In this pulsing neon world lives Xev and eir friends, all hard-working synths who maintain their designations to earn the XP to live and hope to afford the holographic shams that cover up their similarities. That is, until a new synth makes Xev start to ask big questions that might upset the status quo.

In Shika-One, life is cheap.

Xev is about to discover what e’s worth.

Leseprobe

OSHIBANA COMPLEX

Craig Hallam

Published by Inspired Quill: September 2020

First Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The publisher has no control over, and is not responsible for, any third-party websites or their contents.

Oshibana Complex © 2020 by Craig Hallam

Contact the author through their website: craighallam.wordpress.com

Chief Editor: Sara-Jayne Slack

Cover Design: Matt Barnes (www.mattseffbarnes.com)

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-908600-97-4

eBook ISBN: 978-1-908600-98-1

EPUB Edition

Inspired Quill Publishing, UK

Business Reg. No. 7592847

www.inspired-quill.com

Praise for Craig Hallam

[Old Haunts is full of] Adventure, comedy, fiendish machines, dire plots and desperate heroism, with a charming side-order of subverting the action tropes. An excellent read.

– Nimue Brown,

author of Hopeless, Maine

[In Greaveburn], Hallam has crafted an engaging narrative with likable characters and a climax which makes a statement about human nature. However, one could argue the city itself is the real star of the story. Hallam’s expert use of imagery helps us to imagine Greaveburn as a Gothic metropolis full of splendour.

– S. Kinkade,

author of God School

Greaveburn is such a rich literary tapestry it would be a shame not to dip our toes into it at least once more. Fans of George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones and Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast are certain to enjoy getting to know Greaveburn and its residents.

– Angharad Welsh,

Cotswold Style Magazine

[In Not Before Bed], rest assured, there’s something for everyone and each short story is unique as the last. Sheer brilliance this, one of the funniest horror collections I’ve ever read.

– Nathan Robinson,

author of Ketchup on Everything

Hallam puts so much into his writing and certainly produces entertaining and believable characters as well as thrilling plot lines. If you like adventure, fantasy or the Steampunk genre then Alan Shaw is a truly brilliant read.

– Occasionally Adulting

To those who fight for the future, find kinship in dissimilar faces, and love without boundaries.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

Praise for Craig Hallam

Dedication

Prologue

PART I: Designation

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

PART II: Void

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

PART III: Access

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Dear Reader

About the Author

More From This Author

OSHIBANA COMPLEX

A lone barnacle clings to a rock; its shell is both its home and its world.

Waves crash upon it.

Even in the throes of its death, it will cling, and long after it has gone the shell remains to show others that it was there.

Perhaps it knows that it is finite and strives for something permanent after its inevitable demise; a monument to its existence.

Perhaps it believes its impulses to be something more complex, perhaps it thinks of nothing; only instinct drives it.

Such is humanity; existing solely beneath a tinted shell which stands against the solar winds that have stripped this planet clean.

PART I

Designation

1

The tube’s milky white interior blocked out all distractions. No sight, no sound, and Xev’s Access, tuned to the Burger Stop company channel, gave nothing but orders and updates in Miyahara’s nerve-racking bark. The inner of Xev’s uniform had gone from nipple-shattering cold to an unpleasant slickness as eir sweat coated the inside of the polymer material. A hot throb pulsed in eir lower spine, and eir feet cramped at odd intervals, but the tube left no room for slouching, and Miyahara would be watching through Xev’s Access, eager to hand out a reprimand. It wasn’t worth that kisama’s attention. So, bobbing on eir toes to warm up eir pinching calves, Xev waited to be summoned from a narrow, featureless world.

A stilted, artificial voice rang out as a customer stumbled through the Burger Stop door.

“Welcome– to Burger Stop.”

Several automations kicked in at once. Xev’s Access connected with that of the unseen arrival and the customer’s pre-sets popped into Xev’s vision. E could see that the customer preferred paler skin, lighter hair, and larger eyes than Xev’s own. The Access took care of it, projecting a sham around Xev’s real life template which appealed to the customer’s aesthetic preferences. The tube faded to transparent to reveal a Xev that the customer wanted to see, spine straight, hands clasped so that eir fingers formed a yin yang on the belly of eir plasti-cloth uniform which now emitted a soft glow. Where an invisible seam ran down the front of eir tube, the thick polyglass slid apart and Xev stepped from the platform. Bowing as e spoke through a company policy smile, even eir voice was re-modulated into something softer, almost apologetic:

“Thank you for choosing Burger Stop. How may I help you today?”

With a brushed steel briefcase white-knuckled to eir side, plastic tie tugged down from an open collar and coffee-stain rings around eir eyes, the customer looked like e might just collapse before e found a table. Wiping one hand down eir face, carelessly smudging eir makeup, the customer muttered something about a table for one. E looked uncomfortable in that expensive suit and Xev could make out the stain of yellowing sweat around eir collar.

Corp type, Xev thought, recognising the haunted look of an overworked synth who slogged for the Takano-Stanhope corporation.

“Follow me, please.”

It had taken weeks of practice to perfect the effortless glide with which Xev drifted across the pearlescent Burger Stop floor; weeks to master the simple and yet robotically perfect back and forth from door to tables. How the little uniform slippers hadn’t worn ruts in the tiles by now, e had no idea.

Past chromium plated tables Xev led the customer, whose eyes winced against the floor’s dazzling shine. Synths of every kind cluttered the Burger Stop tables: studded bikers and Corp suits, career gamers with hollow cheeks and xp to burn and It-synths with layer upon layer of Access sham filters coating their base template with holographic adornments. At a circular table with red leather seating, Xev held out one hand, briefly, before refastening it to the other.

“Take a seat, if it pleases—”

A clatter erupted somewhere behind. A plastic tray and, by the sound, a host of pre-packed meals splattered across the Burger Stop floor. Silence crashed down. A soft pat of flesh hit the cold tiles as a young synth in Burger Stop uniform fell to eir knees, tears in eir voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Xev didn’t lose a beat.

“—you. And summon us when you are ready to order. Can I help you further?”

The customer tossed the case onto one chair and slumped into another without a word. Xev bowed and drifted away. Back on eir platform, e allowed emself a brief side-glance toward the back of the Burger Stop as the tube slid closed. Just enough time to see the offending synth, Toriq, ushered politely away by the belly-bloated Miyahara, whose greasy smile melted just a second too early as e guided the poor synth through a rear door. A knot of ice crept into Xev’s spine as the polyglass waxed milky once more, blocking em from view, the light from eir uniform winking out.

That poor worker was done for sure. Burger Stop had a no-drop policy and that meant the poor synth’s designation was now void. E had only been named a week or so. If it had been a few days earlier, e would have been for the shredder. Now it just meant another synth on the street. Xev wasn’t sure which was worse. E sighed. The worker had a cute template, at least. Nice and symmetrical. There’d be work if e wanted it bad enough. And it wouldn’t be long until e did.

“Welcome– to Burger Stop,” the auto-voice sang.

Xev’s spine snapped straight, the company smile blinking onto eir face as quickly as the Access automations changed eir entire self, and the cylinder faded around em.

“Thank you for choosing Burger Stop. How may I help you today?”

End of designated work period

Begin rest period: 8 hours

Xev’s Access, tapped straight into eir optical nerve, flashed the words across eir vision. With a happy little trill eir xp value, always at the edge of sight, rose by several hundred points.

5,650 XP

Untying eir chin-length hair from the sprout of ponytail at the base of eir neck, Xev ran fingers through the black strands, sighing at eir scalp’s sweet release. The fibre-optics near eir roots flashed electric blue. The uniform hanger shunted back into the locker, door clicking shut, and the sounds of industrious cleaning erupted from inside. The next shift was in and working already, someone inhabiting Xev’s tube, other synths shuttling back and forth with trays or waiting for the next customer while feigning robotic inertia for the sake of Company Image. Perish that a robot greets someone, or worse, that real synths act anything less than robotic.

Xev tugged on eir jeans and set them for a sad mood; tiny crystal raindrops began to fall down the hexagonal cells, creating a pixelated splash when they met the stylised curlicues of ocean waves which danced just above eir knees. Sliding a fake leather bolero over a red vest, Xev licked eir thumb and bent to reapply a peeling sticker on the scuffed old army boots; a roughly drawn A overlapping the circle that surrounded it.

The door thudded as Xev shoulder-barged eir way out the rear of the Burger Stop, its crystal white interior giving way to the perpetual night of Shika-One City. Boots clanged on the metal steps as e propelled eir exhausted husk up to the alley where hulking bins churned their innards, compacting the Burger Stop’s trash to a fine powder. In the alley mouth, silhouetted by the throbbing light from the street beyond, crouched Toriq.

Xev thought about walking past. Right on by. Eir boots would carry em right out of the alley and away into the crowd, all the way home where e could log in peace. But the sound of soft weeping rose from Toriq’s shuddering shoulders and, as Xev tried eir hardest to sail by, the poor cooch looked right up at em.

Cute template, Xev thought again, as e regarded Toriq’s curving jawline and large, dark eyes. Eir bleached hair swept back from a smooth forehead to flow down either shoulder of the clear plastic jacket that covered eir street clothes. At least e’d bought them since eir naming last week, otherwise e’d be out here naked. Xev could see that the usual soft glow of the Access node in Toriq’s neck was completely dark.

“Xev, I messed up.”

“That you did.” Xev felt the sounds roll around eir mouth as e expressed something other than company script for the first time in twelve hours. It felt good.

“Where can I go?”

“Maybe the belly. You’ll get along there.”

Toriq’s eyes seemed to widen further and further until all Xev could see was emself floating in galaxy-sized pupils.

“Don’t look at me like that,” e said.

“Please.” Toriq reached out a hand to brush Xev’s leg. Animated water plipped, the waves disturbed by the contact. “I can’t do that. Not now. I’m so tired.”

Xev screwed up eir face.

“Strewth. I can’t take you in, Toriq. You know that. I’ll be undezzed right along with you,” e sighed. “Go to the belly. Try to get your Access hacked so at least you have some xp.”

The weeping synth nodded.

“Then buy yourself a room for tonight. You look like all hell. You need anyth—If it gets real bad, you have my contact,” and e turned away from the figure huddled in the shadows as the sobs choked off Toriq’s thank you.

Stood in the alley mouth, Xev fought the urge to look back. If e did, e knew, eir stern façade would melt away. No. E couldn’t. Tapping the red glowing dome behind eir ear, e felt eir Access drop the Burger Stop channel and connect to Shika-One’s full network like spider feet creeping across eir brain. The node turned blue. E blinked as the assault of throbbing neon that gave Hanabi district its name pulsed into life; a perpetual, holographic light show covering every surface of every high-rise cluster from floor to dome.

“Hi Xev—”

Xev jumped hard enough to tweak a muscle in eir already aching back. E growled right at the ad-cast: all wide-shouldered sequins and a glowing grin that didn’t even twitch when it spoke. A halo of in-game paraphernalia orbited its abdomen.

“—There’s no-one quite like Fortini DLC for getting better value for your xp.”

“Strewth. Ignore.” The ad-cast and its grin winked out of existence. Xev shuddered. Reaching into the pocket of eir bolero, e pulled out the only luxury eir xp could afford – a foil-wrapped pack of bubblegum. Muttering to emself, e popped one strip in eir mouth and began to chew. “Creepy sham. Don’t let me down, Marsh.”

Swiping eir fingers through the air with practiced motions, Xev surfed eir Access, initiating a bootleg playlist to drown out at least some of the ad-casts that swarmed around em. Every song had been illegally downloaded right into Xev’s head, off Access, the titles and artists long since forgotten and replaced by strings of numbers and symbols. Working eir tongue, e blew, a hot pink bubble growing and growing, only to pop, and e pulled it back into eir mouth. An old, old song bypassed Xev’s ears, the clipped notes and glass-shatter beats of electronic industria moving directly from eir memory to eir limbic system in a shiver of joy.

Xev stepped into the flow of synths, brushing shoulders with a hundred strangers before taking the same number of steps. As e made eir way through Hanabi, neon holo-signage flashed and rolled, morphed and flowed, their effects mixing into each other like a tonic trip. Glowing golden Pisces fish split apart to swoop over and between the crowd, their translucent blue bubbles bursting the words “Best Hanabi tofu-dogs”, only to return and reform above the door of a restaurant. Ad-casts in the latest fashions paced inside a boutique’s window, snapping between vogueish poses to some unheard beat. Samurai, one blue, one red, clashed sparking swords in a deadly dance that the crowd sauntered right through, their final crash ending with the blue samurai stood over the red, “Garcia Security” flashing above its head. But to Xev, there was only the song, and blowing bubble after bubble after bubble as e walked.

Eir stomach rumbled for the hundredth time in the last few hours, bringing em back to emself.

Between shop front and shop front, where the mass of synths swarmed across the road, small sloped rooves huffed sweet-smelling fog, helping Xev to locate the nearest food shack. E approached the scratched metal counter and eir Access winked a menu into view. Everything worth eating was only a few less xp than e’d earned the entire day. Except, right at the bottom. Food cubes. Tasteless mousse formed into unsatisfying morsels. Technically edible, sustenance by loose association.

Xev let out a sigh.

Rapping the hut’s tin counter, Xev held up three and then two fingers to the stall holder wearing a scuffed old cloth hat and strings of beads piled around eir neck. A moment of pan-tossed sizzling and a carton filled with strips of steaming beef and crispy fries sat before Xev. Taking out eir bubblegum, e stared at the bright pink morsel for a second, sighing at the loss while so much flavour was left, and stuck it to the underside of the counter. E tucked in with enthusiasm, letting the grease and meat and never-been-potato fill eir stomach. Looking up at the cart’s sign, Xev’s Access brought up PAY in yellow letters. E waved two fingers over the area and the Access behind eir ear pulsed.

Payment accepted

Eir xp total reduced by several hundred points with a sad little sound. Still, it was worth it.

Wiping eir mouth, e tossed the cheap paper napkin to the ground. A spheroid drone rolled around eir boots, corralled the rolling napkin, and disappeared into the trash space beneath the pavement. Xev watched with a smile. So happy in its little task. Back and forth, back and forth. The same motion that drove Xev half mad. Dipping back into eir bolero, e stared at the last few pieces of gum in the packet for a little longer than was sane.

“It’s been a long day. You deserve it.” And e popped in another piece. Two in one day. “Sheer frivolity.”

Pushing off from the food hut’s counter, Xev continued on eir way. The ad-casts and holos swam around em. Eir music could do nothing for the visual interruptions. E continued to mutter eir mantra, “Ignore ignore ignore,” between bubblegum pops as e headed toward eir home cluster and, hopefully, Marsh’s package.

The foot of the cluster was home to a pawn shop displaying a red bicycle in a dusty window, a rough old thrift store where Xev bought all e ever wore, and a radiant pink nirvana where Lolitas bought their pastel dream dresses and parasols. Hidden right next to these, a rusty metal grid covered the entrance to the cluster which stretched all the way up to where processed clouds scudded against the starless dome.

Xev Accessed the unlock window. With a clang, the cluster’s locks disengaged. Whether synths had died in that piss yellow corridor or just voided themselves, it was hard to tell, but a rotten person stench filled the air. Bile green moss clung between once-white tiles, creeping through the grout millimetre by millimetre in an attempt to make the whole corridor a slimy tube.