“I think it’s time for a break,” Noia shouts over the start of the next song. She allows the young woman to lead her from the dance floor. When they order drinks Noia presents her residence card for scanned payment then follows her to the second level. They select an alcove and draw the curtain. Cool air blasts down from above they lean towards the table, sipping their drinks.

“Ooo that feels good,” the other says and Noia nods in agreement. “I’m Arianna.”

“Noia.”

“That’s a pretty name!”

“Thank you. So is yours.”

“It was my grandmother’s. Hey, you work for ETHR, right?”

“Sort of, yes. Do you?”

“Nah, I’m contracted independently for database management.” She draws another long sip of her drink and sits back.

“Who do you do database management for?”

“Various companies all over the world – including segments of the GA and ETHR sometimes.”

“Don’t you have to be closely involved for that kind of data maintenance?”

“Well, like I said, I only manage segments. What do you do for ETHR?”

Noia swirls her last sip around her mouth, savoring the strawberry flavor. She has to be careful not to sound like she is completely ignorant of ETHR’s operations. It would be too difficult to explain her circumstances to the average person. “It’s nothing exciting. I do consulting and artifact retrieval.” I guess, she adds privately.

“Are you part of the research or retrieval team?”

“Right now Crevan has me doing research.”

“Crevan, huh? Sounds like you work directly with him.”

Noia flinches and hears an echo in her head. So you’re working with Zuiter now? What happened to you? “For now, yes.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that artifact they mentioned on the news the other day, would you?”

Noia bristles. “Which one?”

“The one that has them proclaiming they are bringing us hope for a better future revealed by a tectonic plate shift in Europe. Everyone in the Europe division has glue-sealed lips though.”

“I’ve not heard anything else about it yet.”

“See? Closed lips!” Arianna slurps the rest of her drink and then pushes the glass away. “Bah! I’m not sure they even know what they’re getting into if you ask me. There’s too little information about it for them to be sure it’ll actually be useful on a mass scale like we need right now.”

Noia smiles and pokes a cube of ice in her glass. “You might be right.”

“I think they should find a new way to process the toxin byproducts or better yet look into re-establishing colonies of marine algae. We killed off a lot of it during the war.”

“How do you know? I thought ventures into the war-scarred zones were strictly permissioned and monitored by the GA – and they don’t allow pictures.”

Arianna leans close and gives Noia a smirk. “Oh, honey, there are ways of getting around the GA permissions.” She keeps her voice lowered and continues, “ETHR isn’t the only one capable of approving expeditions to the dead zones.”

“Have you been?”

Arianna shakes her head. “Nah, but I’d love to. I got a little peek at what data they get and I’d really like to see it for myself.”

Noia frowns. Most of what she read from her initial research in Crevan’s office supported widely that the dead zones were essentially toxic wastelands and uninhabitable – although certainly not as bad as Chernobyl…

Arianna checks the watch on her wrist and jumps up from her seat. “Shit, I didn’t think it was that late. I’m sorry, gal, I gotta go. Oh, wait!” She twists back with her mobile phone in hand. “You never know what will happen around here and every good connection weaves us back into a strong web. Come on, quick!”

“Oh, uh–” Noia fumbles her phone from her pocket and Arianna tapes them together to exchange contact information.

“Great! We should hang again!”

“Ah, yeah, that would be–” Noia cuts herself off when she realizes Arianna is already gone. She laughs.

Less than an hour later and she is back in the elevator heading to floor 21, a random selection. The door opens to a light green greeting area that designates the floor as a spa. The receptionists welcome her and, taking note of the club stamp on her hand, offer her the luxury services on ETHR’s tab. Noia allows herself to be pulled in and selects a steam room massage. The masseuse stretches and kneads her muscles, revitalizing the fibers and soothing twitches and knots. She found with the relaxation her subconscious thoughts settled. Now she could pick through memories and dreams from her time asleep. She might still get flashes of memory but nothing like the debilitating reliving like in the hotel bathroom after Deline found her.

Relaxed and refreshed Noia wanders to floor 47. The long hallways are dimly lit here and at first it is very quiet but in a few more steps she hears something.

Bap. Bap. Bap.

It gains a regular rhythm. Noia frowns at the doors and bold red walls, the wheels in her head turning. The moan that makes it through the wall closest to her precedes the click of her mental gears locking into place. Noia turns on her heel, both hands over her ears. The amorous sounds have her torn between a blush and laughter. In the end she gives in to both once on board the elevator headed to the first floor.

The lobby receptionist still stands at the desk. She smiles at Noia’s approach.

“Good morning, miss.”

“Morning?”

“Yes, miss.” She points to the giant hologram clock on the wall above the reception desk. It’s well past midnight. “Is anything missing from making your stay with us more pleasant?”

“No, thank you, I was just going to stretch my legs.”

“Certainly! It’s a little breezy out so you may want a light jacket or scarf. We have courtesy articles available if you would like?”

“Thank you, I should be fine.”

“Very will, miss! Remember to use your residence card at the entrance scanner. Enjoy your stroll!”

Noia blinks and purses her lips. The woman almost seems…well, mechanic. Noia exits the glass doors and follows the sidewalk.

It is indeed breezy. There are no vehicles on the streets and the buildings are still dark, undefined silhouettes against the azure and coral pink stretching behind pulled-cotton clouds. Noia unfolds the collar of her shirt and rubs the goosebumps from her arms. She nods to another early-morning walker and turns the corner.

She realizes she is being followed after the fourth corner. Her shadower is clever and only the intense prickling sensation at the back of Noia’s neck tips her off. Whoever it is sticks to the shadows and steps only when Noia does. She is passing by a looted clothing store now and several display polls lie across the ground as well as long stretches of fabric and scattered glass. Of course there is always the option Noia could call someone for help or try to fend the stranger off.

So, what do you do?