The resort-casino radiated like molten liquid gold, the most decadent place Goldstar had ever set foot. Unlike her port-snuggled shipping container hideout laden with dust, crumbling asphalt, surveillance drones, and no visual signs of hope, Silver City and its walls were filled with color and glimmering light. OLEDs covered nearly every visible surface with illusions of galaxies and oceans, with the chipped people that were around her seeing even more, augmented fantasies streaming straight into their Minds-Eye. To them, Status World was heaven. To her, it was a trap, a soulless carnival of control wrapped in a pretty external package.
Crowds of chipheads shuffled forward, their faces glazed with numb obedience. They weren't people anymore, not really, just extensions of F8 Clarity, executing whatever impulse had been programmed to feel like their own. Their pace was unhurried, mechanical, every step proof that free will was an endangered species. Goldstar drifted through the herd, brushing shoulders. One woman muttered "Watch it" without a hint of emotion. Goldstar's quiet under the breath "My bad" felt almost too alive in comparison.
An atrium stretched above her, a cathedral of excess. Constellations fell in showers of gold, vibrant plantlife that was actually fake made it look like Alice's wonderland, while floating holographic rivers of F8 Coin spilled in 3D, within the minds of the chipped. Along the gilded golden entryway stood high-fashion greeters, irresistibly beautiful women dressed in nothing but sequins, smiles frozen in perfect symmetry, eyes devoid of light. For chipped patrons, they were whatever fantasy Clarity conjured for them: lovers, muses, exploitable pornographic daydreams... Unchipped rumor said you could approach any greeter and she'd become exactly who you wanted, body, face, personality, an augmented fantasy for rent. Men were the primary client, but in the high-society of F8, women would bring them back too, as "presents". Goldstar didn't see them as goddesses. She saw prisoners. Human mannequins, monetary vessels, enslaved for other's pleasure, their real thoughts smothered under F8's grip, traded as entertainment and gameplay for the zombified masses. "Control really is about giving people just enough of what they think they want in order to keep them doing what those in control desire", Goldstar told herself, knowing the truth.
She kept walking, reminding herself that having feelings of compassion for chipheads wouldn't do any good. Nothing could break the spell. Getting chipped was a one way ticket.
Status World, the most luxe of the Casinos within the city, was enormous. She had already walked close to top-speed for twenty-five minutes, following the holographic floating signs that pointed her toward "Supper Club". A BBS ping from Kevin had nudged her in this direction moments earlier with confirmation that the weapons contact would be waiting there, and would find her. That was when a man wearing an expensive suit and an Augmentar brand watch cut into her path. His presence screamed money and status, which wasn't a kind of person she was used to bumping into. Most unchipped, like Goldstar, never interacted with the so-called elite chipped. She was only with what they would likely consider "the illegals", who like herself, had nothing. His eyes locked to hers, attempting a Mind-Link session. Goldstar blinked, batting her lashes and flashing a subtle "get out of my way and stop linking with me" look. That didn't fend him off. Instead, he spoke, with his real mouth.
"I've been looking all around Status World for the perfect companion, and I can't remember the last time I saw a woman as beautiful as you." His tone was practiced, smooth. It was clear he was well versed in both speaking outloud, and having his way with whomever, whenever he wanted.
She caught herself being slightly flattered but also light weight disgusted. "Heh… thanks?" she replied, letting her nerves sound genuine to remain undercover. A roundhouse kick straight to the face would have been more of her normal style.
He smirked, leaning closer, his voice dropping into something a little darker. "No need to thank me yet, because after I show you how this night ends, you'll thank me after. Because not only will it feel great, but I fully intend to make you mine forever… even if forever only lasts a 15 minutes, or tonight."
Goldstar fought down a wave of disgust, but also, it's not like wild nights and romance were a common thematic or a common Tuesday back home... She knew better though, knew what Status World was really about for the elite chipped. But she had to play the part. "Well darling, you've got that right. I don't usually reply to anyone with my real mouth. I'll tell you what, I've got a friend I need to meet right now at Supper Club, so give me that time alone with her, and afterwards maybe we'll see what me being yours forever feels like."
The man, Adrian Cosas, looked stunned. If a Clarity chip could have popped and exploded killing him from shock, his would have. He stuttered, then regained his composure. "I like you more and more with each passing moment. I actually run things over at Supper Club, I'm a big deal, one of the partners. How about when you're done with your business you join my table at Speakeasy so you can let loose. It's the secret backroom, just walk through the large white rabbit projection sculpture. My table floats, and for you, the drinks are free."
"Maybe I'll see you there," she said, her tone playing perfectly into whatever disgusting fantasy Adrian had envisioned. She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek again, then brushed past, her thoughts a swirl of revulsion. Bluhh, bluhhh blahhhhhh! I need mouthwash! What's wrong with me. The things I may have to do for this mission.
Ahead, Supper Club loomed. Dark, discreet, its walls swallowing noise from the main casino floor. A hostess with an elegant cursive nametag that read "Hannah", stood waiting at it's entrance. Unlike the greeters, her eyes contained something real. She spoke aloud, her tone deliberate: "Welcome, doll. We've been expecting you. Tonight's special menu item is Escargot."
The word hit like a trigger. Escargot. The code. Weapons.
Goldstar didn't flinch. She nodded once, pulse steady but quickening, trusting the process, and followed the hostess' subtle gestures that led her deeper inside. Status World was only the glittering facade. The real business, the dangerous kind, was it's core.