Plum Parrot
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Neon Dust 3.1 - Plan B
🕑 Added 2025-08-02 18:34:32 +0000 UTCYay! We're getting started on book 3. :) Thanks for reading, everyone! I'm still really enjoying writing this one. Just FYI, though, this in
Yay! We're getting started on book 3. :)
Thanks for reading, everyone! I'm still really enjoying writing this one. Just FYI, though, this initial Neon Dust series will be a trilogy. Hopefully, people will like it and we'll write more after that.
-Plum
1 – Plan B
Tony frowned, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve, trying to get it to hang more naturally around his metallic arm. “This doesn’t look good.”
“I’ve been trying to get you to upgrade that thing…” Addie said, trailing off rather than repeating her oft-mentioned reasons why Tony needed to take some of their profits and treat himself to a few upgrades.
“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think you’re right.” He thumped his fist on his metal forearm, and it rattled. “Especially since this hook got jammed.”
Addie took a step away from him, bumping into the elevator doors. “Don’t bang on it!”
He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not charged.” He sighed, lowering his arm. “It is what it is. I won’t be the first hotel employee who had a bulky, second-hand arm.”
Addie reached up to straighten the silky red tie around his collar. “The eye, too, though. You don’t look like the kind of guy a high-end hotel would hire for guest services.”
“You’re bringing this up now?”
“I—” Addie started to backtrack, afraid she’d dampen his confidence, but she needn't have worried. He waved off her response.
“Forget it. It’s not a big deal. I just need to give you a little cover. If they think I’m monstrous in my low-tech cyberware, it should just make my job a little easier.” He wriggled his fingers when he said “monstrous,” feigning a stilted corpo-elite accent.
Addie nodded, exhaling softly in relief. She smoothed down her silky black vest, comforted by the tiny disc-shaped lumps beside the buttons; they were the objects she’d be planting around the penthouse—tiny spy cams. The devices were so small that the transparent adhesive disks were pretty much all her fingers could discern. They’d cost them a mountain of bits, but if they could pull off the job, the client would reimburse them, and the potential payday made the risk worthwhile.
It wasn’t just the money that had them trying to set up an encrypted, shielded, wireless spy-cam network in the penthouse suite at the Exeter. No, it counted as a tier-four job, which would clear the last hurdle preventing them from applying for tier six. If they could get those credentials, it would open up a lot of opportunities; most importantly, Tony and Addie would be competitive for jobs in District One, New Manhattan.
The elevator finally dinged and slid open, and Addie walked out, pausing on the soft, stain-repellant downy-white carpeting to wait for Tony.
“Nice carpets,” he said as he joined her, pushing the service cart ahead of him.
“I know, right? Take a look at the walls, too.” Addie was already staring. The hallway appeared to be lined with polished gold. She knew it was some kind of façade—a nano-metallic paint or something. Still, the luster was real, and the hallway certainly made for a decadent vibe. Addie led the way to the polished white metallic door and touched her employee badge against the scanner. Her face appeared on the screen with her fake name—Regina Campos—and the door chimed softly. Addie turned to Tony and mouthed, “Ready?”
He winked, but other than that, his face didn’t betray anything. It was his neutral “I don’t want anyone to know what I’m thinking” expression.
Addie turned back to the door, and after about another minute, it chirped and slid open, revealing a beautiful woman with an entirely synthetic, white, porcelain-like body. Addie phrased it that way in her mind because, looking at the woman’s face with its gorgeous forest-green eyes and perfectly sculpted features, she hesitated to call her a synth. No, it was more than the beautiful, lifelike features; it was the expression in those eyes. Could a synth pull off that look of disdain?
“You’re early,” she said, her voice melodious despite the curt nature of the phrase.
Tony spoke up behind her. “I’m new. Nervous about getting the cuts right, so, yeah. Do you mind if I set up a few minutes early?”
“Just make sure it stays warm. Service is in thirty—”
“Two minutes,” Tony finished for her.
The woman nodded, then stepped back, gesturing for them to come inside. Addie led the way, passing through the threshold, and the entire reason they’d had to go through with their subterfuge; there was a Dust disruption field set up around the penthouse’s entire perimeter. There would be no fading in and out of that apartment undetected. It was a level of security that, as far as Addie knew, only a few major corps and wealthy individuals in the Blast could afford. Most people wouldn’t need it, anyway; who in the Blast had a high-powered Dust empath looking to break into their apartment?
As far as she knew, Addie was the only person in the Blast who could fade to that degree. Tony said there were probably a few tier-one operators and elite corpo agents in New Manhattan who could do what she did, but he’d never met one. Still, the Exeter was the premier place for visiting corpo dignitaries to stay, and they insisted on feeling secure. Hence the charade.
Under the threshold, Addie could feel the Dust disruption. It was as if her connection to her Dust reactor and all the Dust in her body had become muted and fuzzy. As soon as she passed through, though, it was back. She could compare it to briefly shutting her eyes, seeing the dark, and then reopening them. “Left at the next hallway and all the way back to the kitchen.”
“Thanks, hon,” Tony said, adopting an “aw-shucks” affect. Addie ducked her chin as she walked, trying to hide her smile as the synth-woman replied.
“Dear heavens! What nerve! You said this was your first turkey? Where did they find you? A hot dog cart down at the park?”
Tony tapped his metallic fingers on top of the stainless, domed food tray before him. “I’ll do a good job on this here bird. You can count on it.”
“Ugh. Just get to the kitchens before one of the guests sees you.”
Addie hurried her steps, and she could hear Tony trundling along behind her. After a few seconds, a message blinked onto her AUI:
Tony: Hey, you gonna let her demean your man like that?
Addie stared at the response box, and then JJ picked up her thoughts as she replied:
Addie: Who me? I’m Regina Campos, and frankly, I don’t know the creepy new guy they hired to carve an even creepier, entire, actual bird for a bunch of corpo blood-suckers.
Tony snorted, and then they rounded the corner and continued toward a shiny, metallic white swinging door. Addie held the door open, and Tony pushed the cart past her into a huge, stark-white and stainless kitchen. It was so bright in there that the vegetables, salads, and hors d'oeuvres lined up on the white counter seemed to glow with vibrant rainbow colors. Several house staff members, wearing pressed white pants and collared shirts, were bustling around, finishing various aspects of the meal.
When an older woman with her gray hair pinned back in a hairnet saw Addie and Tony, she groaned, holding the back of her hand over her eyes. “What’s this? What are they adding now?”
Addie looked at Tony, and he shrugged. “It’s the turkey.”
“Oh, lord!” the woman cried. “I almost forgot about that. You’re carving it, right?”
Tony nodded, tapping the gilded silver tray beside the stainless steel container holding the cooked turkey. “I’m supposed to cut it up, put the meat on this tray, and then it’s in your hands.”
“Okay, thank goodness for that much. You two can set up over there by the canning racks.”
Addie had no idea what “canning racks” were, so she followed Tony’s lead as he pushed the cart past the center island and then over to the far wall, where some shelves of mason jars stood. “This good?” he asked.
The woman looked up from her cutting board. “Yes, fine.”
Addie cleared her throat and asked, “Is there a staff restroom?”
Another, much younger woman, who was delicately sifting white, powdery stuff on top of a tray of turkey-shaped cookies, looked up. “In the back.” She jerked her chin to Addie’s left. “Past the pantry.”
“Thank you!” Addie said, smiling brightly. She turned to Tony, and her smile grew a little sinister. “Good luck,” she whispered, eyeing the covered turkey.
“It’s all gonna be in Nora’s hands,” he whispered back, chuckling softly. Addie knew what he meant, of course; they’d gone over the plan a dozen times in the last few days. Nora, his PAI, had thoroughly studied the proper methodology for “breaking down” a roasted turkey. She’d guide Tony’s every cut and his placement of the meat on the warming platter. He leaned close and whispered into her ear, “You be careful.”
She smiled and winked at him—an infuriatingly irritating habit she’d picked up from him. Then, Addie turned and briskly walked toward the back of the enormous kitchen. She could see the pantry doors, and just a few meters beyond, a door that read simply, “Staff.”
At first, she thought it was a single restroom, and she got nervous, worrying she’d keep it locked too long and cause a stir. When she opened the door, though, she saw the space was larger than she’d feared. Three stalls lined the back wall, and they were all open. Addie stepped into the right-most stall and pulled it shut, shifting the handle into the locked position.
She leaned against the white plasteel panel on the left, steadying herself, gathering her thoughts, and mentally planning out her every move. Glitch had found them a copy of the building plans for the penthouse, so Addie had the map ready to go; she just had to hope nothing had changed too much in the nearly twenty years since the building was constructed.
She unbuttoned her vest and peeled the tiny spy cams off the fabric. Then she stuck all six of them to the back of her hand. They were almost invisible there; the sticky disks were transparent, but matte, so they didn’t reflect any light. On her skin, they looked almost like a faint blotch of discoloration or maybe a welt. She peeled the first one off, holding it on her index finger. Then, with a deep breath, she reached into the Dust swirling around her reactor and pulled some out, weaving it into the proper pattern for fading.
After their run-in with Ross and his Boxer security force, Addie had met with Pyroshi and told him about the encounter. She didn’t use any names, and she framed the Boxer people as the aggressors, but she’d wanted him to know how dire the situation had been and how she’d had to “brute force” the fade, burning through her Dust too quickly for comfort. The story had the desired effect: Pyroshi gave her a copy of the pattern for fading, and then spent the next three Saturdays helping her get a handle on it, even though he, himself, couldn’t master it.
Of course, Addie had practiced for days and days on her own. Even so, he was more than a little envious of how her mind seemed to grasp the process. It wasn’t just the fading, either. Addie seemed to have a talent that was more than a few steps above Pyroshi’s. Using the same amount of Dust, she just seemed to generate more of an effect, regardless of the objective. She could channel more lightning, she could lift heavier things, and she could gather inert Dust faster and from a greater distance.
Nevertheless, Pyroshi had barely begun to teach her the things he knew. Every week when they met, he surprised her with some talent he’d been holding back. Usually, it was in an effort to inspire their lesson, but he rarely got around to showing her how he’d done the trick. He was more interested in drilling Addie on her fundamental control of Dust and the speed with which she could form patterns.
He loved to bring up Bruce Lee and the stupid kick analogy, and it drove her crazy, but Addie got the point. She needed her talents to be automatic and almost instant. Why learn a hundred tricks when she’d just be slowed down by the breadth of her choices and then the construction of an unpracticed pattern? No, she needed each thing she did with her Dust to be quick.
So, as the Dust flooded her pathways, she bent it to her will, twisting and layering it, and then pulling it around herself like a blanket. Just a few seconds later, she felt herself shift into the veil between universes or dimensions—nobody seemed to know. Her vision turned blue- and gray-tinted, and she turned, hurrying out of the bathroom, passing through the doors like they weren’t there.
When she walked through the kitchen, she watched Tony as he pantomimed slicing something with a long carving knife. No doubt, he was rehearsing, with Nora projecting a turkey onto his AUI. Addie wanted to say something to him, but he couldn’t see or hear her. Instead, she glanced at her Dust readout:
Dust Purity: Impure – 1.71 LIR
Dust Capacity: 4644/5000
Gain Rate: 21 units per 60 seconds
Current Dust-tech Drain: 6 units per second
She smiled, aiming for the wall behind two enormous stainless ovens. The pattern Pyroshi taught her was doing three things for her: it made it much easier to move while faded, it allowed her to sort of float so that she could shift herself up and down, and it cut the Dust expenditure by nearly two-thirds. As long as her reactor was almost full, she could usually fade for around fifteen minutes. If she didn’t mess things up, she’d have the spy cams planted in less than five.
Addie slipped through the ovens and the wall, and found herself standing right beside a beautifully set table. More house staff were bustling around, and guests were mingling not far away in the penthouse’s main entertainment space. It was a luxuriously appointed lounge and bar that opened onto an enormous balcony with a stunning view of the city. Addie didn’t look, though; she had eyes for the chandelier above the dining room table.
She concentrated briefly and then began to hover into the air, passing through the table and rising until the chandelier was at eye level. Very gingerly, she held out her finger with the spy cam stuck to the tip and, concentrating so intensely that sweat began to bead on her forehead, she unwrapped the dust weave from around her finger. She laughed softly to herself as she imagined someone spotting her finger floating next to the chandelier.
Very carefully, she stuck the spy cam to the bottom of the light, where its three-sixty-degree lens could easily record every place setting. Then, she rewrapped her finger and peeled the next spy cam off the back of her other hand. With one camera in place, the jitters fled from her gut, and Addie felt more confident. She focused on a massive portrait hung near an arrangement of couches and chairs. A dozen people were standing and sitting in that area, chatting away, so Addie thought it looked like a good spot for another cam.
She moved from one area to another, placing her little cameras where she was sure they’d pick up interesting information. She saved two for the master suite, putting one above the bed, and the final one with a clear view of the master bath’s toilet. Addie hadn’t come up with those locations; the client had requested them. Tony thought it was because some people made calls or conducted business while sitting on the toilet, but Addie still thought it was gross.
On her way back to the bathroom in the kitchen, she glanced at her Dust report again:
Dust Purity: Impure – 1.71 LIR
Dust Capacity: 3627/5000
Gain Rate: 21 units per 60 seconds
Current Dust-tech Drain: 6 units per second
When she arrived in the kitchen, she was a little alarmed to see Tony being confronted by the older woman with the hairnet. “…asking you this one more time. Where is your partner?”
Tony shrugged, still holding a carving knife. “Listen, lady, she’s not my partner. I just met the chick. Anyway, she should be in the bathroom. Maybe she’s shy and didn’t want to answer when you called. Did you look in all the stalls?”
“I looked under…”
Addie had heard enough. Tony would talk her into checking the bathroom again, and she needed to be in there. She hurried straight to the bathroom door and slipped through it. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the stall on the right was still closed. She faded through the door and then, with a brief moment of concentration, she pulled the Dust she’d spread out around herself back into her reactor.
Vivid colors slapped her in the face, and the sounds of the world echoed and clamored, no longer muted and faint. Addie hurriedly flushed the toilet, then exited the stall, just in time to see the door swing open and the woman in the hairnet storm in. “You!”
Addie froze, looking herself up and down, trying to force a confused wrinkle into her brow. “Me?”
“Why didn’t you answer when I called out before?”
“Um, I didn’t hear you, I guess? Sorry, but I was listening to music.” Addie tapped her ear.
“Well, I didn’t see…” The woman frowned, clamping her mouth shut. “You better help your partner! He looks lost out there!” With that, she stomped out of the bathroom, and Addie giggled, stopping by the sink to wash her hands.
When she returned to Tony, he was working meticulously and methodically on carving up a golden-brown… creature. “Is that it?”
Tony nodded. “Yep.”
“Where are the wings and feathers and—”
“They had to clean it before cooking it.” Tony shrugged, making another perfect slice
Addie leaned close to the tray. It certainly smelled good. She wondered if she should sneak a sample, just so she could say she’d tried a real bird, but she decided not to risk it; the house AI was probably watching the kitchen like a hawk. “Feeling better?” Tony asked. “Was starting to worry. Plan B never looked very good to me…”
Addie laughed, leaning closer to watch him work. “That’s because there was no plan B.”
Comments
Kory Smith
Well, now you’ve definitely jinxed it
Omar Jimenez
I might be jinxing it, but it’s really sweet to see our adorable duo on a mission that doesn’t devolve into murder and mayhem.
sedael
Good series is good
