Augmented

Chapter 1

Ray Hatfield was marked. Maybe not like how an organized crime syndicate would mark him, but he was marked, his every keystroke monitored, every click observed. All to serve an ultimate end. All to serve the greater good. But Ray was unaware of this. What was foremost on Ray's mind at this point was his splitting headache and the uncertainty of how he was going to pay his rent at the end of this week.

You're a dirt bag and you're going to fuckin' pay for what you did to me.

*beep*

Ray, this is your momma. I think it's about time you paid your kin a visit. That last holo-vid you sent has me worried sick. You look like death, boy. Call me!

*beep*

I can't believe that you were screwing another girl right under my nose. We're really through this time.

Ray clicked off his phone, put his hands into his head, then sighed. He mumbled under his breath, "Why do I even bother?"

A gurgling sound caught his attention and he lifted his head and saw a kind gray face smiling at him pouring an amber liquid into his glass. The man said, "No worries, Ray, this one's on the house. You look like you could use it."

He took a sip of the liquid and his body seemed to involuntarily relax. He looked into the mirror behind the bar and he barely recognized the face that stared back at him. At thirty-five, he had more than his fair share of silver hair. He was always on the thin side, but now, he looked more unhealthy than fit when he was in the military. The years were wearing on him and he knew it, but there was nothing he could do about it. He gave a smile to the bartender. "Thanks, Larry, tough times, my friend."

Ray closed his eyes and let the sounds of the bar wash over him. In background the news feed droned on about the latest corpo vote.

It looks like Loehing Corp has won the national K-12 educational contract, handily so we're calling it now. Votes are tighter on other avenues, but we should have news on national defense and infrastructure contracts soon. Now, in other news, rebuilding the southwest continues after a decade of fighting-

Ray took another sip of his whiskey and groaned, "You think you can find something better to listen to? This shit's depressing."

Larry chuckled and said, "Switch feed to Blues and Rock random mix. Volume five." The rollicking sound of Blues rifts filled the air and Ray relaxed. "Eh, I'm not a fan of the news myself. I just thought I should probably listen to election news. You know, I can kinda remember a time when we elected people and not corporations."

"That's because you're old."

"Shut up, young 'un." Larry poured a splash more in Ray's quickly emptying glass and continued, "Well, like my granny used to say, at least we're cutting out the middle man this way. So what 'cha working on?"

Ray looked down at his floating display and sighed. "Can't make any headway on this latest case and I don't get paid if I can't. And the women..."

Larry chuckled as he wiped his hands on his apron. "Seems to me you make things harder than they need to be, friend. Call your momma, ignore the women, and focus on your case. What is it anyway?"

"Same 'ol thang, moderately successful business man suspects one or more of his workers are skimming off the top. I can't track it down."

"I have faith. You somehow always live to see another day..."

"Yeah, until I don't."

Larry's smile turned down and he looked Ray straight in the eye. "I like you. I know you have a lot of things going on in that melon of yours. I know that a lot of you fellas didn't come back right from the war. But, Ray, you need to get right before you can't. You're smart and you got a hell of a lot of talent. Use it and stop this self-destructive shit."

A sad smile crept involuntarily over Ray's face. "I know. I'll figure things out." He slogged back the last of the amber liquid in his glass and continued, "One step at a time. I need to figure this case out so I have a place to stay and food to eat. From there, I'll figure out what's next."

"And call your momma."

"And I'll call my momma."

Larry walked away from Ray to another patron. Ray looked around the near vacant bar. The place smelled of stale beer and despair. Drinking was no longer in vogue so it was mainly the older set and a few outcasts from his generation. They were a lost generation too old to belong to the new groupthink, but too young to belong to that old guard. They were lost souls, the world had left them behind when they returned from the war, and they seemed to be always trying to keep up. He was far too young to be wishing away his life, but here he was.

He took one last deep inhale of the smoky stale air of the bar then stood. He swiped at his flat paneled watch then Larry chimed from behind the bar, "Thanks for the tip, man. Take care of yourself. I know that you'll make a break through."

Ray gave Larry a nod and headed outside for the cold damp Midwestern fall.

###

"Ada, display images from video cams in sectors 045, 090, and 135."

Three glowing displays popped up in front of the auburn haired woman. She twirled and panned the images with her hands after a few seconds her shoulders slumped and she sighed, "C'mon, you're late."

A computerized voice filled the room, "He still has approximately two point nine minutes. Technically, he is not late."

The woman looked up at the ceiling of her cramped quarters to the disembodied voice, "Ada, are you being a smartass?"

"Calli, I do not have the proper programming to be a smartass. I am merely stating a fact. We ran the numbers and this is the best chance of your plan working. I feel the numbers do not warrant executing the plan though."

"You've told me this numerous times, and as far as I remember, I'm the one who has final say on all the plans. I say the numbers are good enough and we execute."

"Very well." There was a short pause and Ada started to speak again, "Motion detected in sector 135, zooming to target."

There he was. His hair slicked back walking down the darkened sidewalk with a swagger and sway. She couldn't tell if he was intoxicated or not. Lord, she totally forgot to take that into account. Well, too late now. She bit her lip and looked at her clock then gave a spin in her chair, and with the final revolution of her spin she gave the command, "Ada, execute Plan 314."

For an instant, her room went pitch black then dim emergency lights gave way and after a few seconds she was surrounded by the shrill sounds of alarms. "Okay, Ray, ball's in your court now, dude."

Screeches and yells filled the hallways outside of her room. She grabbed a tattered woolen sweater and and a courier bag sitting on her desk and slung it over her shoulders. She took a breath and walked out of her room calmly to her destiny.