44. The Tech #3
Dylan let out a frustrated noise. “Let’s just find where this fucking warehouse is before it’s too late.”
Isaak crossed his arms, scanning the still frame. His eyes landed on a street visible through the wood-framed windows. “Is there a way to go back to when I was looking out the window, with a better angle?”
“How about this?”
There was a whirring sound like an old video tape being rewound. The footage on the screen crackled and shifted as it played backwards.
“I know it’s somewhere in London, but there aren’t enough landmarks for me. I can’t place it. Fuck.”
“Wait. This metal bridge,” Dylan said, moving the footage frame by frame. “It’s connecting these two buildings. Five stories tall. And then another further ahead. Wooden beams crisscrossing the bottoms of the bridges. I know vaguely where this is. Docklands!”
“Of course. Let’s send the footage to Elodie. We need her to run this through TraceMaps and pinpoint the exact location.”
“Good. Now get out.”
Isaak ripped the fat sticky tape off his temple.
Dylan was sat in Jeff’s chair. Jeff stood to the side, stooped against the wall. “Mmmmm, smell that aroma in the air?”
“Wh-what?” The Tapeworld daze clung to Isaak’s mind, fog clouding his senses momentarily.
“Plastic!” Jeff pointed to a large blocky device in the corner of the room. A semi-transparent gas floated from it into the air.
Jeff went over to it and picked up an object from the inside of the machine. “Ta-da! A pistol-katana!”
Dylan stood up, menace in her face. “That’s what you were doing just now?”
Isaak closed and opened his eyes repeatedly. “You 3D-printed the Gunkatana? Are you fucking crazy?”
“Oh, so that’s what its called. Gotcha.” Jeff observed the machine’s workmanship. There wouldn’t have been much craft required from Jeff – scanning the sword from Isaak’s memories wouldn’t have been a reach, with all the other tech in play.
Even if he couldn’t control what Jeff had seen inside his mind, he felt guilty for making this possible. “Is it functional?”
“Is it functional? Of course it’s fucking functional!” Jeff looked down the edge of the sword as if he was looking down the barrel of a rifle. There were no limits to this guy’s crassness.
Isaak’s gut twisted as he got out of the chair. “Destroy it. That’s not supposed to be out here.”
Jeff pushed him back with a hand. “Take it easy, buddy, I’m laughing. See, I’m only joking with you. It’s just plastic. It can’t shoot, and the blade is as dull as the Second Revivalists’ manifesto.”
Isaak grabbed the replica off him to check it. He was telling the truth. He still thought of breaking it in two in front of him, but it wouldn’t solve anything. Jeff would just print another one.
“We’re leaving,” he said instead. “You sent the footage to Elodie?”
Dylan nodded.
Jeff went to the computer and typed on the keyboard, fingers moving at lightning speed. “You should have told me there were fancy swords involved, I would have done this pro bono.”
“You are doing this pro-bono!” Isaak reprimanded him.
“Says who?”
Isaak shook his head. “How many times have I saved your ass, Jeff?”
“Not enough. And you still owe me for sucking so bad in your last Lazarus game. I had a huge bet on you winning.”
Isaak winced, the pain in his knee flaring up at the mention of his time in the sport.
Mind over matter, but the shitty version, where your mind makes you hurt.
“Thanks for reminding me. Well, you’ll have to bill me later, I’m skint right now.
” Isaak didn’t intend to let go of his precious few credits if he could get away with it.
Jeff’s face turned the most serious he’d even seen it, which still looked pretty silly. “You for real right now?”
Isaak pinched his own arm and patted down the sides of his torso. “Think so, yeah. I’m not see-through, I don’t have any tape on my head… This is the real world, Jeff!”
“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, buddy. I’m expecting payment.” Jeff almost sounded convincingly threatening.
They walked to the door.
“Why do you even need credits?” Isaak said. “It’s not like you pay rent or anything.”
“I still have expenses!” Jeff waved at a multitude of plants that were at the other end of the corridor. “Bah. Postulous parasites paraded passively past.” He spoke with poison in his voice, waving his hand mockingly at them as they passed.
“You quoting something at us, Jeff?” This guy was unbelievable.
“It’s a saying.” Jeff took a breath. “It means you’re a couple of bloodsucking parasites.”
It pissed Isaak off that they’d needed Jeff’s help.
Having known him for a while, he was certain that if the Second Revivalists were still around, Jeff would have been exactly the type of guy to become a devout follower of Eltarc Romly’s xenophobic teachings, even though he mocked them today. He just had that vibe to him.
Isaak pulled up his sleeve, ready to give in and offer up the payment implant on his wrist. Dylan glared at him, taking it as a sign to intervene.
“Talk to Elodie,” she told Jeff, voice taut like razor wire. “She’ll pay you.”
“Mmm… Okay. She better pay me enough.”
Isaak and Dylan walked out of his flat and to the elevator, not looking back.
“Hey, and buddy, you gotta let me take that sword for a ride one time!” Jeff shouted after them.
Isaak waved him off.
“Wanker,” he muttered.
“Damn right,” Dylan said through gritted teeth.