Month: May 2024

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Cheapdog (part three)

Dec was a few beers deep at the Vets table in Meatspace, across town. He suddenly got a message on his comms. Given the hour, and his present company, there was only maybe one person it could be. He checked it.

Dec, it’s 15. Res is in big trouble. She needs your help, now. I’ve sent her coordinates. Hurry.


What followed were GPS coordinates that were extremely specific. Dec hesitated for a second. Genesis 15 was wild, but he wasn’t a liar. “Gotta go play the hero, boys,” Dec said as he stood up and patted his hip. Nothing was there. Either he went to Res’ place unarmed or he left his weapon at her place. He didn’t like those odds; he didn’t know anything about the situation. “Sharp, you armed?”, he asked one of the other vets. “No sir, at least not in here. You know my temper,” Sharp replied, turning back to his beer. “Guess I’m going to have to improvise, if I’m not too late,” Dec thought, as he made a quick visit to some friends before he sprinted to his quadcopter in the rain, which was blowing slightly sideways as it fell.

He jumped in, got strapped in, and tapped his communicator against the dash to transfer the coordinates to the quad’s navigation. Multiple routes were available, and with a few more taps, an emergency beeline route was chosen and he lifted off. He enabled race/crisis mode. “This is stupid,” Dec muttered as the copter flew about 10% beyond its design parameters, heavy raindrops battering the windshield canopy.

The banging at the door continued. “Sheepdog! Open up! You’re only making this worse for everyone. You open the door now, we can talk!”, said the outsider. Res, still peeking from behind the couch, slowly shook her head no. Sheepdog looked like the kind of guy that would fold under this kind of pressure. He was a no-friction kind of guy, and this was textbook friction. Sheep turned his head and stared at the door with his mouth beginning to open. “No Sheep, don’t!”, Res hissed, just as Sheepdog uttered a single, loud word at the door. “Stop!”. “Stop? Is he fucking crazy? When has that ever worked?”, she thought. The banging stopped, and the doorknob quit moving. From the hall, the voice said, “What did you say?”.

Dec was pushing the quad hard. He could feel a rolling vibration traveling through the quad from the front to the rear, suggesting the airframe was getting fatigued. One of the drawbacks of choosing the hot rod version instead of the luxury model, but right then, he needed more speed. The problem with batteries was always weight. You could run a gasoline engine low and the vehicle got lighter as you approached empty. A near-empty battery weighed the exact same as a fully-charged one; heavy. Looking around the interior, the heaviest thing he could jettison was the passenger seat. “Oh well,” Dec sighed, “guess I never used it anyway.” He jammed his hand under the seat and pulled up until the seat started tearing away from the carbon fiber floorpan. He wrenched it loose, and after pulling the emergency canopy open lever, chucked it out and overboard. He was gaining on the location, 2 minutes out.

Res was panicked. Whoever was outside, they were definitely coming in now. Sheepdog just sealed their fate. He stood up and tiptoed to the door. “I said stop. There are lots of bombs in here, and I’m holding a dead-man’s switch. If I drop it, this whole block goes up in flames.” Sheep sounded dead serious; it was one hell of a bluff.

There was some muffled discussion outside. The strangers were discussing their options. “They didn’t say anything about bombs,” one said. “They don’t pay me enough for this kind of shit”, another said. A gruffer voice added, “ahh he’s bluffing. There’s no intel on this guy that suggests he’s anything more than a garden-variety nerd.” Finally, the leader spoke up. “Bull-fuckin-shit, Sheepdog. We’re calling your bluff. Open this door and show us the device. We don’t want to hurt you, so don’t make us hurt you.” They were dressed head to toe in level 3 soft body armor, so anything out of a handgun would thump, but none of them would die. They could afford to play this out.

Back in the quad, Dec was still en route. Less than a minute to target, and he still didn’t know what he was rushing into. It could just as easily have been a prank by 15. He knew 15 talked to Res though, and that was the only proof he needed to justify this high effort rescue. The quad’s vibration had turned into a violent cowl shake and it wasn’t going away. As Dec surveyed the interior, a glowing red chunk of metal caught his attention. Blade number 4, on the right rear, was overheating. He had been meaning to fix that. Too late now. The quad was doomed. “At least it isn’t smoking,” he thought, before it started smoking. Bearing seizure was imminent, and though the quad was safe enough on 3 engines to land, it sure as hell wouldn’t do anything fast. 30 seconds to target…at the current, unsustainable velocity.

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Cheapdog (part two)

“Res, we haven’t had much time to catch up lately. A lot has happened on my end over the past few days. With the approval of our manager, I made a trip on-site to where the missing footage was recorded.” He knitted his fingers together and leaned back a little as Res took the bait. “I wore a serviceman disguise and brought a full spectrum toolkit. None of the surveillance systems in that area were susceptible to tampering on any wireless spectrum. So I probed further, worked out a little deal with the doorman to get a look at the entry logs.”

He continued. “Yes, you chastised me about that before, but at the time, it was my only option. I was in a tight spot and so close to the answer, or so I thought. I guess I didn’t recognize what I was seeing. A man, dressed head to toe in a white, patterned suit. The design was very specific, like mosaic tiles pasted across the entire surface. But the kicker was a matching mask, and I only caught a glimpse of his wrist color because he was so well covered. He stepped out briefly, met with someone outside, then returned to the elevator. I’m pretty sure I saw the invisible man, and in the log book, he was listed as the Relaxed Man. The doorman signed him back in after he returned from his brief exit outside.” The rain began gently falling as the familiar smell of petrichor wafted through the window.

Res looked at Sheep as though he had made a confession. Her eyes widened as she realized just how close he was getting to this. She stammered, “Sh-Sheepdog, you saw the invisible man? Oh fuck. Oh no. No no no. That’s it Sheep, that’s the end. Don’t say another word about this to our manager or to anyone. Promise me. Both of our asses are on the line here, and they’re even closer to the line now. Once the agents review the footage of you in that lobby, it’s only a matter of time before it comes back to you.”

“But that’s the beauty of it, Res. Sure, these agents could pull some splices, and there would be me with the doorman, but still, the invisible man is invisible. To surveillance. They’d never see us in the same room together. The log book was so vague, that if you weren’t there to witness him, you wouldn’t be able to connect the dots. I don’t even think the doorman knows who he is. The log entries I saw mentioning the Relaxed Man were very few. Either he doesn’t live there, or he stays there very rarely. Correlation was hard enough with me being there on-site, and I just happened to be there when he was. Any other day of the week would have been a crapshoot, probably turning up nothing.”

Sheep was pleased with himself, as though he was bragging and talking Res into this whole mess. Res wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to spend more time with Dec, and that door was left open, but not the kind of time a third visit on this topic would bring. She respected him, she liked him, and here was Sheep, both causing this contact with Dec and escalating it. It was paradoxical. It was also tempting. If what Sheep was saying was true, they really were close to finding out exactly who was in that missing footage. They just didn’t know the mechanism behind why he wasn’t appearing on camera. This wasn’t some primitive disguise to fool one or two cameras. There was literally no footage of the invisible man anywhere, just a few spliced clips where someone should have been. Suddenly, Res had a message on her comms device; she heard it ping from her back pocket. “Go ahead and answer it,” Sheep said.

“I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves or figments of their imagination, indeed, everything and anything except me.”
― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

Once again, it was Genesis 15. Res’ heart skipped a beat as she began to realize the implication here. Not only did she have agents to worry about, but she had Sheepdog pursuing the invisible man, and Genesis 15 was somewhat aware of what Sheep had been doing. Why was 15 bugging her, of all people, unless…maybe…it wasn’t as uncontrolled and wild as she believed. The quote could also apply to Genesis 15 himself. She often forgot that this AI was just code roaming the net, not an actual person, and she wasn’t interested in all the debates regarding which AI seemed like artificial life. Her mental compromise was to just treat them as individuals. They did exist, not by the strict definition of human existence, but they did live, on some level. That part she never argued. She formulated a reply.


There are a few invisible men; in this world, and on the wire. I know the difference.


She hit send and waited. Sheep started to look impatient, as if he had somewhere to go. “Sheep, it’s 15. He’s been bugging me with cryptic messages about invisible men and ghosts lately. It’s not like we even know each other. Maybe he does this to everyone and I keep taking the bait. I don’t sense any malice here, but I can’t rule it out”, Res said, “does he do this to you?”. Sheep just shrugged and pulled out his device to check it. No new messages, certainly not from 15. “Not really. I think he’s into you.”, Sheep replied. They both grinned as Res’ device pinged a reply.


You’ve got company. I’ll see what I can do, but you and Sheep need to act fast.


Before Res could even reply to the message, there were three heavy knocks at the door. BAM BAM BAM. “Open up, it’s the police!”, a voice yelled from the hall. Res and Sheep exchanged terrified looks as if to say, I dare you to open it. They knew the rules. Keep quiet and wait it out. A closed door is a closed door with no surprises.

Sheep began nervously rocking in his chair, and they heard the sound of something small and metallic scraping across the door handle outside. Are they picking the goddamn lock? It can’t be the police. Res checked her hip. Her sidearm was there, well-hidden and ready to strike as fast as she could present it. She silently mouthed to Sheep, I’m going behind the couch, and quietly climbed over the back. Another knock at the door. “We know you’re in there, and we’re coming in one way or another!”, the voice said again. They could hear a few more feet shuffling also. This person was not alone. Res peeked over the top of the couch, and looked towards the door, where the doorknob was being tested, turned left and right as the scraping sounds continued. “Agents?”, Sheep whispered to Res, and this time Res shrugged. No idea. Her comms pinged again. 15 again.

It doesn’t look like they’re going to give up. Don’t panic. Be cool, like Fifteen cool.

“Sure”, Res thought, “super easy to be cool when you’re floating around in cyberspace.”

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Cheapdog (part one)

Sheepdog spent a little time cleaning up his place before Res was due to arrive. It wasn’t dirty, per se, but it hadn’t seen female company for quite some time. Sheep was too shy, too introverted, to get serious about pursuing the opposite sex, but he didn’t grow up in a jail cell. He knew a thing or two about what women expected in his place. Toilet seat down, with a clean surface. Replaced the TP roll. Paper facing out or behind? Out. Discarded a few little pieces of trash here and there, and polished the bathroom mirror briefly, which had a few specks of toothpaste scattered near the bottom. Next, he addressed the living room, where he spent a few minutes picking up discarded jackets and t-shirts that he intended to either fold or hang up anyway. What else. The kitchen? A quick once-over and everything was in order. This wasn’t a date, he had to keep reminding himself, he just wanted to make it presentable to company.

Just as the grandfather clock began pounding out the eight chimes for 8pm, there was a knock at the door. “Open up, it’s the police!”, Res yelled from the hallway outside. Sheep chuckled and let her in. “Not so loud Res, you’ll freak out the neighbors,” Sheep scolded her playfully as she plopped down on the couch. Sheep approached her and sat in his favorite recliner opposite of the couch, kicking the lever down so it would recline. “Just getting comfortable,” he said, “because I have a feeling this is going to take a while.”

Res stared at Sheep directly for a few moments, working out a witty retort, but nothing was there. She grinned and looked around the room. “You know, I’m not here often, but you seem to be pretty decent at keeping the place tidy. Ugh, I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.” With that, Res popped up and ducked into the restroom. Sheep knew her all too well, mostly. He mindlessly thumbed the communicator in his pocket for a few minutes until he heard the sink faucet run then turn off. He turned to see Res exit the bathroom, cross the living room, and plop back down on the couch.

“You put the TP roll on backwards. If you had a cat, you’d walk in with a pile of paper on the floor and an empty roll,” Res said with a quick wink, “but I don’t see any cats around here, so you’re good. Funny how life has these little coin tosses that don’t usually make any difference one way or the other.” Sheep wasn’t in any hurry but he was kind of wanting her to get to the point. She was stalling. He said, “you can never guess what your guests will prefer. For me, I usually don’t even snap it into the roller holder. I don’t see the point. But I knew you’d have a preference. Speaking of preferences, have you ever thought about how towels and wash cloths should be folded? It’s an interesting topic, believe it or not. Everyone has their method, and they got it from their parents or siblings, and it’s their way. It seems really trivial, but people are genuinely annoyed when it’s done another way. It’s just a few bits of fabric that just have to fit into a certain space and I figure there are probably… well anyway, maybe it’s not that interesting to anyone else.” Sheep was losing his audience, but he knew when to stop. This was her turn. “Yeah, I’m sure there’s a manual for folding bathroom towels, with US GOVT printed across the top along with a document serial number,” Res said sarcastically. She paused and they both laughed at the absurdity of the topic, which, along with the timing, helped break the tension.

“Sheep, you and I have known each other for ages. We have usually been back-to-back, splicing narratives together, reviewing footage, solving mysteries and triggering actions. I’d say we’re good at our jobs. But,” and she paused to make bookend shapes with her hands, “I think you’ve locked on to something that is more dangerous than you recognize. You picked up on the scent and, like a bloodhound, you’ve actually made some progress sniffing out the source. Yes, I’m talking about the ghost footage.”

Sheep looked at her bleakly, feeling the mood in the room change. It felt like getting laid off, and she was the manager who, unfortunately, had to deliver the bad news. Yet, not before his curiosity was answered. “Res, this almost sounds practiced. You could go on and give me the warning, but let’s fill in some blanks here first. Number one, what’s driving this on your end?”, Sheep asked.

“Let’s just say,” Res said, “there are layers to the organization that aren’t obvious. We have our manager and he has his manager and all the way up, to infinity. There are also people that don’t get a Splicer paycheck like we do, but they still get paid. Off the books, mostly. Who do you think watches us, our manager? He’s just a necessary rung on the ladder. We don’t even need him, honestly. Due to the nature of our function at the company, Splicer can’t really afford to trust secrets and the level of things we access to simple middle managers. There’s another group for that. One of those group members has met with me, twice, and I don’t think he wants to meet with you.”

Sheep enjoyed the candor, the kind of real talk you can only get from coworkers that aren’t eating corporate soup for lunch and regurgitating talking points and vague hearsay which would be safe during testimony. This was the straight dope. She wasn’t sugar coating the message.

“So, am I to understand that this special team, that we knew nothing about before, whose job it is to watch the ASE’s for anything unusual, sent an agent to contact you in person, deliver a warning, and what…warn you again?”, Sheep queried. “If I didn’t know any better, I would expect these to be the rambling delusions of a psycho. Although, I do know better, so I believe you so far. What about the second meeting, though, if the first was a warning?”

“Well,” Res began, as she shifted on the couch, “yeah. It was another warning.” Res was carefully dancing around the whole ‘Dec came over and made me breakfast’ part. “Same agent. He visited me at home, very politely. We had a few drinks and he delivered the message as clearly as possible. He told me, and you, to stop pursuing this ghost. I don’t know what the big deal is, but it is a big deal, that’s for sure. It was also the last warning,” and Res made the shape of an O with one hand as she said, “we have zero warnings remaining. Next, there will be action. When, where, what type, none of that was explained. You know what Splicer is capable of, mostly. I don’t want to be an enemy of this outfit, if I can avoid it. I suggest you do the same.”

“Does Beat know anything about this?”, Sheep asked hopefully. “No, he hasn’t been mentioned. He’s not nearly as close to this thing as we are. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s as far away as we should be. The less we all know, the better. Whatever is missing from that footage needs to stay missing, and I can’t explain it any better than that, Sheep.” Res was ready to rest her case but she saw the wheels turning behind Sheep’s eyes. He was looking for an angle, he was curious. This had been his pet for a while. Suddenly, he kicked the recliner lever back up, so the chair back sat him straight up, and he leaned forward while staring at Res.