Epigraph

content/read/007.md

@@ -1,31 +1,121 @@
-# Dr. Carter Ramirez --- 2112
+# RJ Brewster --- 2112
 
-The morning's alarm startled Carter awake.
+RJ allowed emself to sleep in until near eleven that morning. Last night of dress rehearsal, might as well be well-rested.
 
-Disorientation --- when had she fallen asleep? There seemed to be no line delineating squirming under the covers and the buzz of her phone and faint tingle along her implants.
+Many other members of the troupe held part time jobs during the day, and ey ran a small consulting business of eir own. The more industries that dove into immersive tech, the more eir expertise was worth. Even so, with all that ey did, ey made enough to not have to worry about holding down more than the one full-time gig.
 
-And here she had thought that the end of grad school had meant the end of six-hour nights of sleep.
+As it was, on days when ey had nighttime rehearsals, ey felt no compunctions about sleeping in. Nothing to be up for, only the 'net to keep them occupied in the mornings, little enough need to get moving.
 
-Blearily, she pawed at her phone to swipe the alarm off. It was tempting to go back to sleep --- *after all,* she mused, *the lost weren't going anywhere* --- but she managed to at least kick her feet out from under the covers and sit up. Frizzed hair hung down around her face, shielding her from the world for just a little bit longer.
+It was Priscilla who eventually succeeded in waking em, butting her head against eir cheek and purring obscenely, stomping on em through the blanket with kneading paws. The more insistent the cat became, the less able ey was to ignore her intrusions on eir admittedly banal dreams.
 
-It was her phone, as always, that brought her back to reality. It's mere presence, even silent, was enough to draw her forth.
+Fine. Trudge out of bed. Refill cat's water and food. Give the requisite morning pets to keep her happy. Scoop the litter box. Make self a pot of tea. Tea to shake the grogginess.
 
-> Ramirez
+Ey sat at the tiny kitchen table, sipping from eir oversized mug and watching the late morning traffic from their window. Mostly business traffic, with the occasional mother with child in tow. Black cabs. Scooters. Bikes.
+
+By the time ey had finished eir first mug of tea, RJ had woken up enough to start on the prowl. As with the night before, ey made sure that everything was in order before touching eir rig. Ey'd taken care of the cat, but ey still needed to eat, emself. So, remembering eir promise, ey set about making a small pot of rice. Fifteen minutes to cook, plenty enough time to finish another mug of tea.
+
+RJ left most of the rice cooling in the pot and took for emself a small bowl to go with the leftover curry. The process of swiping eir hand over the controls of the stove had reminded em of the deck that Sasha had shared last night. There was no reason to think that some random person in London would have much to offer in the case of another person ey had never met getting lost. No reason not to try, though. Maybe there was something, some small insight that ey had which, when pooled with those of others, might help in some way.
+
+So many maybes. So many mights and perhapses.
+
+Empty bowl in sink. Third and final cup of tea in the thick-walled mug. Good enough. Ey allowed emself to settle before eir rig at last.
+
+As before, ey keyed in the password and rested eir hand onto the cradle for the two-factor. However, instead of delving in as ey had last night, ey unfolded the screen to full height and pulled the keyboard closer, swinging the hand rests to the side and the headrest up and out of the way. No need to go immersive, with work like this. Ey could just as easily work as a fox, of course, but it was so easy to lose track of time in there, and the night's rehearsal mustn't be forgotten.
+
+Besides, eir tea was here.
+
+"Let's see," ey murmured, taking a sip of tea before setting the mug down
+
+Ey called up Sasha's deck.
+
+  ----------------------
+   Cicero Lost Nov 2111
+      Priv eyes only
+   See Debarre for ACLs
+  ----------------------
+
+  --------------------
+   Dr. Carter Ramirez
+   specialist in lost
+       so. London
+  --------------------
+
+  --------------------------------
+          Mr/Mrs. Jackson
+    parents, can't get much more
+   dad in govt, mother stays home
+  --------------------------------
+
+And on it went for nearly a dozen cards. Each had its own cover embossed with a few lines of type, each containing upwards of a terabyte of information culled from various sources, doubtless of varied quality.
+
+RJ flipped through each, gleaning what ey could from a quick scan, before collapsing the deck once more and sitting back to think. Nothing in there seemed new. Nothing out of place. Ey had only received the deck last night, and yet nothing felt like it had been revealed, uncovered.
+
+Ey knew of the lost, of course, and the name Ramirez was commonly tied with the few hundred or so cases that had cropped up over the last few months. The family...no, nothing to be gained there, at least not that had already been tried by Debarre. And again, there was the problem of being a random nobody in the UK: no one known, no one with power.
+
+None of the rest of the cards carried any real significance to em.
+
+If there was anything RJ was going to add to the conversation, it would be through eir connection to Cicero. Something ey knew, something the two had shared.
+
+A small notification slid down from the top of eir monitor, covering the upper right corner of the screen.
+
+> **D --- D --- R**
 >
-> New case, this time with scans from before the incident. Another furry, you don't think that's got to do with it, do you :p
+> Voting begins in *5* minutes on *referrendum 238ac9b8*:
 >
-> S
+> Summary: *Tariffs on importation of goods from the Sino-Russian Bloc...*
+>
+> Cost: 1,000
+>
+> Comment: 150,000
+>
+> Bounty: 280,000
 
-The brief, ungrammatical message from Sanders left her nonplussed until she pieced together that he was talking about one of the other subjects' histories, something about him being part of some subculture. Sanders didn't honestly believe that people who pretended to be animals on the 'net were somehow more predisposed to get lost than everyone else. And, to be honest, neither did she.
+RJ reached to swipe the notification away. Ey had very little stake in the uncomfortable alliance between Western Fed and S-R Bloc. Could care less, honestly, about taxes on things that ey'd never buy. Then something clicked within em, and ey halted eir motion.
 
-All the same, the thought stuck with her through her morning routine. Through the shower, the blank dissociation of standing in the kitchen. Through two cups of coffee, the first there in the kitchen and the second out of a travel mug on the tube as she headed out towards the UCL campus.
+*Cicero.*
 
-*Another furry, you don't think that's got to do with it*.
+Ey hastily shuffled back through the *Cicero Lost* deck until coming up with the 'recent net activity' card and pulled up the contents. It took a few moments to remember how to sort tabular data --- database classes in high school so long ago --- but eventually, ey got the table sorted around the activity type. Ey scrolled rapidly through the list until ey got to the list of Direct Democracy Representative entries.
 
-She felt sluggish. Craved another cup of coffee even after she'd reached the bottom of the mug she had with her. Sluggish and slow, like thinking through mud. Too many late nights. Too many long days with too little to show for them.
+There was the connection.
 
-The thought nagged at her, caught like some spinning shape against the threads of her mind in a way that the rattle and screech of the train couldn't displace. It tugged those threads free. Unraveled stitch by stitch, until it reached...what?
+The one thing that RJ and Cicero had was their arguments over politics. Not just politics, but the worthiness of the current political system in all of its facets. Arguments upon arguments upon arguments, fennec fox and tabby cat with their ceaseless bickering in the Crown Pub.
 
-Until it reached the hem, and then the same thing over again.
+RJ was firmly on the left, but ey felt the representative democracy combined with the DDR was a pretty good system. Not great, sure. It was *fine*. It *worked*. To ask for more from a political system was to invite further troubles like those from the preceding century.
 
-"Holy...holy shit. Holy shit," Carter said, startling the elderly lady next to her. She murmured an apology and fished her phone out, thumbing in a quick message to the team.
+Cicero, however, seemed to waver between socialism and anarchy, depending on factors such as how much he had had to drink and how angry he was at the most recent vote.
+
+*I certainly can't see broad shifts going my way,* he had slurred on more than one occasion. *Least I can vote. Vote on every damn thing that comes my way.*
+
+Ey made sure syncing was turned on across all copies of the deck before snipping those rows out of the activity table into a card of their own:
+
+  -------------------------
+          DDR votes
+   todo: process by record
+   1 month, 835 votes (!)
+  -------------------------
+
+The icon in the upper left of the screen showing the deck twirled gracefully to show the sync.
+
+Cicero had voted precisely how he had talked. On the surface, he was no different than any other far-left socialist on the DDR.
+
+Along with the ability to vote on issues directly came the ability to comment --- for a price. DDR votes didn't cost money, but they did cost credit, up to 1,000 per. Credit gained by voting on cheaper issues, for each vote provided a bounty paid upon consideration, beginning with a few freebies in the tutorial.
+
+What Cicero's records showed was that he was wealthy. *Fantastically* wealthy. RJ had a few million DDR credits banked away in case a high value issue that ey felt strongly about cropped so that ey could make a comment. Unlike voting, commenting could cost upwards of five million credits. And one could buy their way to influence by flooding issues with comments.
+
+Cicero's wealth surpassed RJ's at least a hundred times over, if not more. Well into the billions of credits. For someone to be as active in commenting as ey knew the cat to be and still have that much in credits stored up showed a dedication to following politics that was just barely hinted at by those tispy rants. Cicero was well connected, well read, and, most importantly, apparently a key political figure on the DDR comment sections to an extent that none of the Crown regulars had ever expected.
+
+RJ sat back in silence for a few moments before muttering, "Well, shit. Prisca, you don't suppose..."
+
+Rather than finishing the thought out loud, ey dashed off a summary in the notes attached to the card.
+
+> AwDae here. Looks like there's a lot going on in DDR activity (where'd you get this, Debarre?). Cicero was into a lot, and I'm not trying to go all conspiracy nut on you all, but do you think that maybe he got in too deep or something? Not saying someone tried to do it too him or anything, just that maybe the more one uses the net, the more likely it is to happen to them? I mean seriously, look at all of his votes, and his stash of credits! I'll keep poking at this after rehearsal.
+
+The tea had gone cold long ago, but ey downed it all the same. Ey'd spent longer than planned plowing through the data the hard way and ey risked being late if ey didn't start hustling.
+
+It was nearing dusk by the time ey left, the tux newly brushed and ironed, the gloves newly washed, the RJ newly shaven.
+
+On the way back to the tube station, ey stopped by a Thai counter and picked up some take-away noodles for the night. Ey made it halfway through the container before the rancid belch of station wind suggested ey pack it away before heading down to the platform.
+
+Throughout the ride to Soho, RJ's mind continued prowling through the data in Sasha and Debarre's deck. Ey kept mulling over that surreal number of credits. Just how much social currency was bound up within the reputation market of the DDR credit system?
+
+Cicero had built himself up into a proper political player.