This is Felix.
<img src="https://jesspopps.neocities.org/images/Felix.jpg" width="256" height="512">
Felix lives in the Lillegracht quadrant of the Underrime, a semi-subterranean habitation underneath the Ark City of Rime. People don't live here unless they have to, and managing to get by is a daily litany of less than ideal choices.
In an attempt to deal with this (as well as making a bit of extra, black-market, cash), Felix has recently agreed to test-drive some new, experimental tech. It's a chip, one that's been implanted into the back of his neck, and which is apparently powered by some very clever artificial intelligence that will assess and analyse data from his surroundings to ensure he responds appropriately to all external stimuli.
That is, he's been promised it will help him make decisions more clearly.
What the back-alley installer didn't tell Felix is that genuine AIs are expensive to run, especially in a circular economy reliant on renewable energy like Rime. And this is a prototype, so in reality, Felix's data will instead be sent to a small room hidden in a warehouse in Quaterhigh quadrant, where a team of human data-handlers will make the decisions instead.
And now, the machines warning that team of a necessary decision are blinking. Because, well, right now, Felix is hungry.
[[Shall we follow him to lunch?]]Felix leaves his sparsely-furnished unit and heads towards the Quaterhigh Night Market, where he needs to make a decision about what to eat.
Although it's called a "night" market, Quaterhigh actually operates 24/7. Here in the Underrime though, it's always night, because the Ark City overhead blocks out any view of the sun inhabitants like Felix might once have known. But what the Night Market lacks in daylight, it more than makes up for with light from other sources - as soon as Felix gets near he is assailed with neon signs from the permanent shops on either side of the market row, as well as string lights and lanterns dangling from the awnings over the market trader's stalls. As always, Quaterhigh is awash with people, jostling and shoving as they go about their business, an almost overwhelming mix of sights, smells and noises coming at him from all angles.
His tummy rumbles, the only thing keeping him from bolting back to the shadowy quiet of his unit. But he needs to make a decision fast here, so he doesn't get stuck in the throng of marketgoers.
Should Felix choose...
[[A hotdog from a market stall?]]
or
[[A bowl of ramen from a permanent cafe?]]...What's even the point of complaining? Felix has seen how Jimmy deals with dissatisfied customers before - that powerful, metal hand flexing ominously...
So, Felix eats his disgusting, disappointing hotdog, trying to ignore the knowing smirk on Jimmy's face and the swirling mass of bodies pushing all around him.
This doesn't feel like a win, because it isn't one, and as he wanders back home to get ready for work, he begins to wonder if that chip in the back of his neck is even doing anything.
[[Felix goes home]], miserable. Later, he gets stomach cramps, but that's just how it is, sometimes, in the Underrime.'What do you call this?' he snaps, flinging the offending item straight into the market vendor's face. The chilly sausage slips out of the bun as it flies, slapping Jimmy wetly across his nose, narrowly avoiding his metal eyepatch.
For a moment, it's like the entire Night Market shuts down. The sounds of vendors noisily hawking their wares fades, and even the constant motion of a thousand shoppers becomes nothing more than a blurry shimmer of shifting colours. In the midst of all of it, Jimmy stands, shock written all over his wide face, as a single cold hotdog slides down, down... and away, lost beneath the stall.
And then everything speeds back up. Jimmy vaults over the steamer, landing with surprising grace directly in front of Felix. Oh, he's really tall up close, Felix thinks. But that's all he has chance to think, because there's a metal fist hurtling towards him.
And when it lands, all the lights of the Night Market go out. Felix crumples, and as he goes down, the stitches in his neck catch on the edge of a nearby table.
[[The chip crunches. |Game Over]]
Jimmy swings around and glares at him, and for a horrible moment, Felix thinks he's made a horrible mistake. He's never been very good at confrontation, which is not exactly a strength down in the Underrime, and right now he's worried he's about to get a mouthful of metal fist and then he'll never be able to come here for hotdogs ever again!
Until the vendor reaches out - with his human hand - for the hotdog Felix has barely bitten into. He hands it over, and watches as his favourite street vendor's brows draw together in consternation above his metal eyepatch.
'What the...' he mutters, clearly feeling the same temperature issue as Felix. He drops the sandwich and presses on the lid of the steamer, checking that too. Then he glowers in disgust at his other hand, the mechanised one.
'This piece of...' he trails off on a growl, before turning back to Felix.
'I'm sorry, I really need to get this thing serviced - the temperature gauge on it is clearly screwed. Can you wait five minutes for me to do you a new one?'
'Sure thing,' Felix grins easily.
Five minutes later, he has a steaming hotdog in hand, just as delicious as it usually is. For the first time in a long time, he feels... kind of proud of himself. He said something, spoke up for himself - without getting over-emotional about it and causing a scene. It's only a little thing, in the grand scheme of things, but it's like he's actually figuring out how to read a room in the Underrime, which feels like an incredibly important skill. You know, for his own survival.
After eating, [[Felix goes home]], full and happy and feeling almost good about the prospect of starting work this afternoon.How dare they serve him cold ramen? How dare they??
Within moments, a concerned bleeping sound catches his attention. He spins round in his chair to find a Supervibot 6000 waiting there, all shining chrome and pleading, pixelated, LED eyes.
'Hello, Customer 317,' the Supervibot chirrups. 'Is there a problem I may provide support with?'
'Yes, there is,' Felix snaps, although even to himself it feels a bit silly to be angry with a machine. Especially one with sad eyes and an LED heart animated to look like it's breaking on the robot's chest. It's manipulative, obviously, but it's effective all the same.
'My noodles are cold,' he clarifies, aware that now he sounds less angry and more petulant. Which is also not what he wants. 'It's not acceptable - I paid 5 whole credits for this food, and I want it hot.'
The Supervibot whirrs as it processes this data. An electronic whining sound emits from its chest and the LED heart vanishes, replaced instead by a big, red cross.
'Our policies indicate this is a breach in our drive for customer satisfaction,' the robot informs him solemnly. 'We will not permit this to stand. Please rest assured the offender will be dealt with, immediately.'
The robot spins on its rollerball and speeds away, even as dread lands in Felix's gut.
'Wait!' He scrambles to follow the Supervibot, disturbing a row of other silent, lonely diners as he clatters past.
The door to the kitchen chimes as it permits entry to the Supervibot, but when Felix tries to follow, the doors firmly close again.
'Chef D4-A69,' Felix hears it chirp. 'You are fired. Remove your apron immediately and leave the premises. You are not permitted to remove company property. You will not be paid for this shift.'
'Hey!' Felix hammers on the kitchen door. 'That's not what I want! It was just a mistake - I don't want anyone to get fired!'
The doors chime again, and the Supervibot emerges, followed by a tall, glum woman who glances at Felix with an expression he can only describe as 'resigned'. He notices the blue plasters on her hands, the burn scars, and he opens his mouth once more to protest.
Before he can, the Supervibot swings back in his direction.
'We trust your complaint is now resolved.'
'No, it's not!' Felix gestures to the chef. 'This doesn't help me. I just want a refund, or a new bowl, hot this time. I've been coming here for months, I know this was a one time thing.'
'But you still called the bot instead of just telling the kitchen,' the chef mutters, which only makes Felix feel worse.
The machine beeps and whirrs again, and then another red X appears on its chest.
'Our policy does not permit refunds,' it points out. Having done so, the X morphs into an obnoxious green tick, and the robot's fake face breaks into a cheerful smile. 'Your complaint has now been closed. We value your custom. Goodbye!'
The Supervibot spins until it is behind Felix and the former chef, chivvying them both out of the cafe.
'I haven't finished my ramen!' Felix protests.
'Leave it, man, that bot won't listen to a damn thing now your complaint's been "resolved"' the chef says.
'I'm sorry,' Felix says.
'You know what? You should be. I've got kids at home.' She shakes her head, rueful. 'Next time, just tell the humans what the problem is, alright? No need to ruin someone's entire life.'
Before he can respond, she's gone, ducking down an alley and into the gloom.
Despondent, [[Felix goes home]], 5 credits poorer and still hungry. He doesn't have the credits for another meal, not until he's done at least another shift this afternoon. Which now, he supposes, he'll just have to do while feeling hungry and guilty.The blind lifts, and his eyes clash with those of the chef, a woman with a blue facemask over her mouth.
'I don't want to be a pain,' he tells her, 'but my broth is stone cold. Is there, like, something up with the burner back there?'
Above the face mask, the woman's eyes widen and she reaches forward to snatch the tray back from him.
'Holy - I am so sorry, please don't call for the Supe. I'll do you a new bowl straight away.'
There's something like panic in her face that reassures him this was the right course of action. Hey, maybe that new chip implant's doing it's job after all! He nods at the chef and leans back, more at ease now the problem is being resolved.
Within minutes, the chef is back, sliding a new tray in front of him. To his surprise, there's an extra plate on this tray, too, holding a delicate, flower-shaped treat he recognises from the dessert board.
'On the house,' the chef whispers, seeing his surprise. 'You just saved my bacon.'
'Hey, I've worked in places like this before,' he tells her softly. 'I know what it's like.'
'Solidarity,' she says, before sliding the bamboo blind back into place.
Solidarity, indeed, he thinks as he chomps into the strawberry-flavoured cake. It's been so long since he let himself buy anything sweet, his eyes flutter closed from the sheer joy of it. This, he decides, is a good day - and if this new decision-making chip implant has anything to do with it, he's pretty sure it's only going to get better.
With that thought in mind, [[Felix goes home]].There's a red 'call supervisor' button on the table, but he's worked in hospitality before and he knows there could be unintended consequences of getting them involved. It's probably a Supervibot, he thinks he's seen one zipping around on its rollerball before, and his own previous experiences with them makes him shudder.
But what's his other option - talking to people? Tapping on the blind and asking the chef behind it if there's something up with their burner today? He can't do that - it's way too embarrassing.
But he can't waste 5 credits, either. So, he sucks it up. Literally. The broth is noticeably greasier when it's cold, and the noodles are sort of slimy, with none of their usual bouncy spring. The only pleasant part of the meal is the spring onion, because it's fresh, and the water on the side, which he's incredibly grateful for now, since it means he can wash away the oil slick left in his mouth.
Ugh. Maybe he won't come back here, after all. The only solace he takes is that at least he didn't get anyone in trouble.
He pushes back from his booth and heads out, passing a row of other lonely diners as he does. One of them slams down her ramen spoon in disgust.
'This is cold!' she snaps, pressing the CALL SUPERVISOR button insistently.
With a defeated sigh, Felix hurries past, and out, not wanting to see what will happen after that.
[[Felix goes home]], glad at least that he's full, even though the swish of cold broth doesn't feel quite as satisfying in his stomach as it might have. The hotdog stall is grimy, but Felix has eaten from here a tonne of times and never got ill, so he has a lot of faith that this will be a tasty treat.
The vendor's name is Jimmy, and he's a blocky, refrigerator-sized man with a metal eyepatch and one cybernetic arm that oozes oily sludge from the joints. It looks like it should have been serviced some time ago, but Jimmy isn't the kind of guy you say that to.
When he pulls the bread bun from its damp, plastic packaging it looks limp. He lifts the silvery lid from the steamer and reaches in with his metal hand to snag a floppy hotdog from the depths. He slaps it into the bun, gesturing with a grunt at the condiments on the side.
But Felix has noticed something he's not happy about. Usually when he grabs a hotdog from Jimmy, the steamer emits a big ol' whoosh of... well, steam. But not this time. When he takes the drooping sandwich from a rusty, cybernetic hand, it feels... chilly.
Now, living where Felix lives, he's had to put up with a lot when it comes to food. This hotdog is unlikely to be made from //real// meat, for example. It's much more likely to be lab-grown off-cuts that, ahem, "fell off the back of a lorry". And Felix can cope with that. He can cope with the poor hygiene, the low quality, the way that sometimes the ketchup tastes... dusty...
But he cannot tolerate a cold hotdog. Can he?
So... what should he do about it?
[[With a long-suffering sigh, Felix shrugs and takes a bite.]]
[[Felix's hand clenches around the soggy snack as rage takes hold.]]
[[Felix frowns. 'Hey, man - this thing's cold,' he points out calmly.]]This is a nice cafe, and one Felix usually only allows himself to visit on special occasions. After all, credits are hard to come by, and a bowl of ramen here will set you back five of the suckers.
Still - what's the point of being a grown adult if you can't treat yourself from time to time?
One of the reasons he likes it so much in here is because no one bothers you. The ramen shop is designed to avoid human interaction as far as possible. Instead of tables, there are booths arranged around the open kitchen, all individually segmented so diners can't see their neighbours. When Felix sits himself in an empty booth, a simple bamboo blind blocks his view of the kitchen, and the cooks' view of him.
He presses his thumb against the fingerprint scanner on the wall, and a hologram menu appears in front of him, with a flashing green query:
USUAL ORDER?
He jabs 'yes' and swipes the menu away. And then he waits.
Not for long, though. In less than two minutes, the bamboo partition rises and a pair of hands pass a tray through to Felix's table. The hands have blue catering plasters on them, and are covered in the scars of old burn marks, the sign of a chef who takes their job seriously, as far as Felix is concerned.
On the tray is a glass of cool, crisp - and importantly, clean - water, the kind which comes at a premium in this city, but pairs too well with the ramen for him to skip it. The ramen itself comes in a black-glazed porcelain bowl, the broth fragrant and the noodles speckled with finely sliced spring onion.
He grabs the ramen spoon from the side of the bowl, plunges it into the broth and lifts it to his mouth.
But... it's cold. Greasy. He drops the spoon with a horrified splash.
But then what does he do?
[[One fist slams on the red 'CALL SUPERVISOR' button on one corner of the table.]]
[[Felix knocks politely on the bamboo blind. 'Excuse me?' he calls out.]]
[[Holding back his disappointment, Felix thinks sadly of the 5 credits that have already left his account.]]Felix wasn't born in the Underrime - most people living there aren't; it's not that kind of place. You know, the kind of place where bright-eyed couples settle, ready to start a family. It's more the kind of place people "end up", maybe because they've burned too many bridges elsewhere, or because they simply can't afford to pay rent in the significantly more upmarket residential areas overhead.
Sometimes when he is walking home in the perma-gloom of the Underrime, he finds himself thinking about the other layers above, the ones he no longer has access to without special permission.
Sometimes he thinks about [[the Service Level]], directly overhead.
Sometimes he thinks about [[the Comm]], where he was born.
Sometimes he thinks about [[the Echelon]] in the heights of the city, a place he has only ever visited once.
Sometimes he even thinks about the history of [[the Underrime]] itself, although he avoids this because he finds it depressing.
At other times though, he simply hurries [[home]], trying not to think about very much at all.This prototype Decision Chip is no longer functional. Please do not attempt reinstallation. For details of collected data, or to reattempt Decision trial, please contact your original chip provider.
[[Visit the chip installer]]
Alternatively, you may wish to [[begin again |This is Felix]].
(If you're lovely and would like to check out the [[credits]] for this game, you can do that too!)Hi, I'm Jess, a writer and a careers advisor. I wrote this game to get you thinking about assertive communication, which is a kind of careers advice, so you can really see how I'm making both sides of my personality work for me, here.
Anyway, here is a list of people I need to thank for making my peculiar cyberpunk daydreams a pseudo-reality (list will be updated as I make it prettier!):
To Chris Klimas, and everyone else who's contributed to <a href="https://twinery.org/">Twine</a> for making a tool that's a genuine pleasure to use for someone like me (a writer who wants to make interactive fiction games but isn't a coding expert!)
And to Grim Baccaris for the brilliant Twine Grimoire, which is slowly helping me figure out how to format this thing!
If you're playing this via <a href="https://www.jesspopplewell.com/">my website</a> or because I've sent it to you, and you notice something wrong (a typo, a broken image link, something else...) please get in touch via <a href="https://www.jesspopplewell.com/get-in-touch">the contact form</a>, and use the subject line 'broken Felix game' so I can get to fixing it asap!
Finally, thank YOU for playing. This is only a silly little sample, and there are WAY better games built in Twine than this, but you gave it a shot anyway, and I'm so pleased! I hope you enjoyed it!
Jess xThe Service Level sits directly above the Underrime, and is the main reason there is no natural light here in the depths underneath the city, since the Serv is a mess of metal walkways and warehouses for the city's engineers to store their tools and receive their various orders.
It's a portion of the city only ever designed to be seen by the people who work there, people who understand electrical ducts and sewage conduits and hydraulic haulage, and therefore who don't mind seeing it all out in the open in their workplace. It makes for a noisy sky, and it isn't unusual for someone like Felix to be minding their own business in the Underrime when a shower of sparks rains down from the Serv.
And when that happens, Felix remembers that he was supposed to be one of those engineers, once. Would his life that worked out differently, if he'd taken that path like he was supposed to? Probably. And yet, as he passes a row of neon-lit bars and late-night bakeries cobbled together from old shipping containers, he can't help feeling like this was the right path, somehow. The Underrime can be many things - dangerous, dirty, desperate - but it's also got its own charm.
It's just a wildly different charm to, say, [[the Comm]] he grew up in, or [[the Echelon]] he barely understands. For better or worse, [[the Underrime]] is his [[home]].The Commercial Layer of Rime, colloquially known as the Comm, is by far the biggest part of the overall city of Rime. When the concept of 'Ark Cities' was first posited, back before the Catastrophic Events even took place, the Comm was conceived of as the heart of each ark, the cradle of the project where generations of rescued, middle class families could thrive.
To that end, it is a series of clusters, each designed as a mixture of residential accommodation, retail space and public amenities like schools, doctors' surgeries and artificial "outdoor" spaces. It is clean - some might even say sterile - and it is the layer where Felix was born and raised before ending up in [[the Underrime]].
Now he's no longer an official resident, he can't access the Comm unless he has a permit, which he sometimes gets through his job as a Tasker. And frankly, most of the time, he doesn't really miss it. As far as Felix is concerned, living in the Comm turns people into hollow, zombie-like creatures who only care about whatever latest fad is being sold by the extensive malls that act as the central hub of each cluster.
He is curious about what life might be like in [[the Echelon]], a place he's only ever been able to get a Tasker permit for once. Sometimes he even wonders if his life might have been better if he'd accepted that job in [[the Service Level]].
Mostly though, he's just grateful the Comm is no longer the place he calls [[home]].Right at the very top of the Ark City of Rime sits the Echelon, the most exclusive tier for anyone to live in. For that reason, not many people do - frankly, not many people even get permission to visit.
Felix did, just once, as part of his role as a Tasker. The job was a delivery - he collected a pair of imported, handmade shoes from one of the upscale malls in [[the Comm]] and delivered them to a palatial apartment unit in an Echelon address called Oriel Tower. And when he did, he had his only chance to see what life was like for the residents of the Echelon.
It was beautiful. Unlike the sprawling network of clusters in the Comm, the Echelon was one self-contained neighbourhood, designed to perfectly meet the needs of the founding families of Rime. Six towers arced up to the very tip of the city's protective outer shell, which from up here still let in a generous amount of natural light. The towers were the homes of these wealthiest of Rime residents, but also housed their servants, their doctors, their private tutors, their gardeners.
And the gardens were the highlight. Felix pushed his luck with the limits of his access permit by visiting them, but how could he not, when he knew damn well he might never get this chance again? The gardens sat in the middle of the towers, a perfect circle manicured into flawless lawn, a sunken garden, a rose path leading to a romantic bower. One section was given over to an arboretum of plantlife that would no doubt be completely extinct if they hadn't been given sanctuary here in the Ark City, just like the humans living here too. It was peaceful - that was probably the biggest thing he noticed that was different about the Echelon and everywhere else in Rime.
In the Comm, there were so many people, and so many adverts - holographic infomercials that projected out from the sides of buildings, so much hustle and bustle... below that, [[the Service Level]] was a mass of heavy machinery as the city's engineers worked to keep the whole place moving smoothly. And then there was [[the Underrime]], where Felix had his [[home]], a place that was never supposed to exist and therefore felt like a constant seething heap of people trying to claw a living out of nothing.
But here in the Echelon, there was stillness, and calm, and as Felix stood between a set of fragrant flowerbeds, the colours of the sunset streamed in through the protective solar-glass panels - the most expensive view in what remained of the world.Imagine a city built as an ark. In fact, imagine 54 such cities, dotted across the world, built as a desperate attempt to save humanity from a series of Catastrophic Events that threatened to wipe it out entirely.
How might you design a city like that? The answer for Rime was to design it in layers - three, to be precise - [[the Service Level]], where all the dirty, behind-the-scenes work of keeping a city running happened. Next, [[the Comm]], where most people lived and shopped, and [[the Echelon]], an exclusive level for the wealthy founding families who originally funded the building of the city.
The Underrime was not part of those plans. The Underrime was never supposed to exist. But that's the problem with trying to design a perfect, sustainable society in the face of an extinction-level humanitarian crisis. Those Echelon families might have planned their perfect little city. They might have invited their perfect little list of highly-skilled workers and their families to move to Rime and secure their safety, but they forgot something very important.
Humans are tenacious, and they are stubborn. And the people not on that invite list? The families that didn't contain a doctor, an engineer, a teacher, a security expert? They decided to come to Rime anyway. And they ended up in the world beneath the city. The Underrime.
There's no natural light, because only the Comm and the Echelon were designed to get that, and anything that does exist only exists because the Underrime residents built it. There are schools, shops, cafes and casinos - but they're mostly temporary, precarious places welded together from scrap metal or else huddling amongst the foundations of the towers that stretch all the way up into the Echelon.
It's grimy, grey and gripped in the fists of organised crime. No one plans to end up in the Underrime, but people do. People like Felix.
And for Felix, it's [[home]].Felix's home is a concrete box of a place, with thin, patchwork-welded metal walls. There's no kitchen, just a kettle and an old multi-functional rice cooker he's had since college. It's freezing at night and sweltering in the day, and to reach his floor from the outside of the building it's necessary for Felix to shin up the rusty ladder of a fire escape.
But the rent is cheap, and none of his neighbours seem to be dangerous, so it's about as good as Felix imagines he's going to get.
Still, no matter how cheap the rent is, it still needs paying on time, and to do that, Felix has to work. He's a Tasker, which means he does a whole range of odd jobs as needed, coordinated via a blackmarket interface with the city's AI system, ALRAA.
ALRAA - the Autonomous Legal and Resourcing Administration Authority.
When he gets back from lunch, he's already tired. He doesn't sleep well - not many Underrimers do - and at least as a Tasker there's no one putting specific, timetabled demands on him. There's no one to stop him just... crawling back into bed for an hour or six. It's tempting - except, there's a consistent, electronic pulsing in his right wrist from his financial skinlay. He set it up to do that when his account falls under a certain amount of credits - the amount he's calculated that he needs to survive.
And since he's currently under the survival limit, he can't afford not to take at least one task from ALRAA today.
Felix's black market interface is a palm-sized tablet from before the Catastrophic Events that's been jerry-rigged to work with ALRAA's code. The screen is cracked, but it was when Felix bought the thing, and he's learned pretty effectively how to navigate around it.
ALRAA loads up as he flops onto his sleeping mat. It looks funky on the low-quality interface, artefacts of struggling data sending the screen into fuzzy glitches at the edges, but there already messages from the AI waiting in his inbox.
[[ACCEPT DATA ENTRY TASK]]?
Client: Spinwheel Casino
Requirements: Attention to detail. High focus.
Urgency: High. Short deadline (3 hours, counting down)
Payment: 36 credits
[[ACCEPT JOINT VENTURE ASSEMBLY TASK]]?
Client: Comm Cluster 16 Food Hall
Requirements: Medium focus. Electric screwdriver safety certification.
Urgency: High. Short deadline (2 hours 30, counting down)
Payment: 100 credits (split between joint venture Taskers)It's a dull job, but he knew it would be - and that's kind of the point. After the first hour, his shoulders need a stretch and his left leg has gone slightly numb, so he climbs off the sleeping mat to make himself a caffeine enhancer by heating water in his rice cooker.
It's tricky to move numbers into the appropriate cells on the broken tablet, but it's manageable as long as he doesn't let his mind wander off-task. Like, for example, wondering what the point of the task it. Like, why would a casino need someone to subtly shift figures around on a spreadsheet before it goes off to an accounting firm?
Well, it's probably safest if he doesn't ask too many questions about that. Or, frankly, any at all.
He's just about to re-settle himself into his working position when the door buzzer goes off, bouncing around the concrete walls of Felix's flat.
But who's this?
[[Ignore the buzzer]]
[[Answer the door]]Even before he leaves the house he knows this job is going to suck - and the only reason he doesn't completely rebel against the chip in his neck (which the installing engineer strongly advised he not do) is that he'll get 14 extra credits from this job versus the data entry task. Since this job's going to take him to a Comm food hall, maybe he can even grab some subsidised dinner afterwards.
As a non-resident, it's against the rules for him to try and get access to the subsidised meals in the Comm food halls, but another Tasker taught him how to override the payment system in the Servibot cashiers, so he's not worried. It's a risk worth taking for a 5 credit tray of Cluster 16 poutine.
But first, he has to get up to the Comm in the first place and meet up with this 'joint venture Tasker'. Yay, a group project...
To get to the Comm, Felix has two options:
[[Spend 6 credits on an official transport]]
or
[[Hitch a (free) lift on a waste hydraulic]]
(Depends on credits available whether the official transport option is available)Answering the door in this neighbourhood has the potential to be a very bad idea - especially when you're not actually expecting anyone, so Felix decides to ignore the damn thing altogether.
It vibrates through the concrete box of his home a few more times, and each time a tense frisson rolls up his spine - what if it's urgent? What if it's someone he knows?
But the chip in his neck told him to ignore it, and so he does.
When the buzzing finally stops, Felix relaxes back into his work, which he finishes easily and ahead of his own self-defined schedule. Which leaves plenty of time to pick up another task as well!
By the time he's done for the day, he's beyond bored, but he's several credits richer than he was before!
He cooks some rice and heats up some packaged daal in his rice cooker. It's nowhere near as good as homemade, but it means he doesn't have to go out again. As he consumes his uninspiring meal, he attempts to watch a show using his broken device, but it keeps stuttering so he gives up and instead lets the sounds of the city filter in from outside.
That night he sleeps deeply, not even waking when an ill-timed sleep-spasm breaks the stitches in his neck and the decision chip slips out.
The next day, he's already in the laundrette when he realises it's gone.
[[Chip Disabled |Game Over]]Reluctantly, Felix unfurls himself from his position on the sleeping mat and heads over to the intercom. Like everything else in his apartment, the system is ancient, recycled from the times before the Catastrophic Events. Using tech like this always sends a wash of nostalgia through him, even though he was born in Rime and didn't know the world as it used to be.
Still, he feels the rush now when he picks up the plastic (old plastic, made from fossil fuels! They never use anything like that in the Ark Cities now!) phone receiver.
'Hello?'
As soon as he speaks, the small, grey-toned window next to the telephone cradle lights up, so Felix can see who's been buzzing for his attention. Immediately, Felix's shoulders relax - which is interesting, because he didn't even realise they were tense.
'Yo, there you are!' his friend Tiom grins into the camera. 'You gonna let me up or what?'
For a fleeting moment, Felix glances back at his work device. But then... it's been forever since he's seen his friend. Tiom runs a bar over in another quadrant of the Underrime, one called Quaterhigh, and it's not often he's in this neck of the woods.
[[Let Tiom in]]
[[Don't let Tiom in]]The free option up to the Comm is dirty, smelly, and also kind of dangerous considering it involves standing on a flat sheet of metal with no walls as it swings upwards on a hydraulic lifting system, and so just this once Felix feels inclined to treat himself to an official transport.
He heads over to the ALRAA Transport hub, where an quick scan of his right iris identifies him. A tinny, electronic voice requests information about his journey, so he slides his left forefinger across the scanner. It logs his fingerprint, as well as the tiny chip that identifies him as a Tasker with a job to do in the Comm. Honestly, these days he has so many microchips embedded in his skin it's a wonder he doesn't sparkle under the faux-neon signs of the Underrime.
The transport, when it arrives, is a neat, spherical hovercraft just big enough inside for two seats. The door unseals with a smooth humming sound, sliding back against the rest of the vehicle with a satisfying mathematical perfection. Once inside, the door reseals, and all the noise of the outside world... stops. Felix sinks into his seat and lets his eyes drift closed against the bright display that makes up the entirety of the front window.
//Welcome to this ALRAA Transport to Comm Cluster 16 Food Hall,// a calming, neutral-gendered voice says. //Please feel free to relax while we travel. Six credits have already been deducted from your account. We will arrive at our destination within eighteen minutes.//
And sure, there were cheaper and faster ways to travel today, Felix knows, but the transport is clean and so //peacefull//. Peace is such a rare commodity in this life. This feels like a really, really good choice.
And so, safe in the knowledge the soothing transport voice of ALRAA will wake him when they arrive, Felix allows himself the luxury of a nap for the next seventeen minutes and thirty-nine seconds.
[[Meet the other Tasker]]Although technically illegal on safety grounds, using the waste hydraulics to flit between layers of Rime is about as common as lab-grown meat, which is to say - very.
For one thing, it's free, and for another, there are no iris scans or skinlay checks to worry about, and like a lot of Underrime residents, Felix doesn't love the panopticon-level of surveillance generally required by the Ark City Alliance.
The only thing he needs to be able to use the waste transports is a good relationship with someone who works there. And before he was a Tasker, Felix used to work with the Wasters, so they just wave him through with a wink when they see him.
The waste hydraulics are enormous, open-edged squares of metal hooked up to thick chains that raise and lower the entire city's rubbish down into the Underrime. From there, the sacks of waste are sorted - the vast majority of all waste is recycled, one way or another, because it's not like there are vast, new resources just waiting to be tapped anymore. The only reason humanity even needs the Ark Cities is because previous generations were so wasteful before.
Felix hops onto the first hydraulic he finds that's due to head up to the Comm. It creaks ominously as it ascends, but these things are built to hold indescribable amounts of weight so he's not worried - he just avoids standing too close to the edge. He has seen people fall off these things before.
Before long he's up on the Comm level, and he waits for the other illicit passengers to disembark before he thanks the lift operator and makes his way towards Cluster 16 Food Hall.
[[Meet the other Tasker]]'So, what's up?' Felix asks as Tiom enters his home. It is, after all, deeply unusual for his friend to turn up like this, and he's curious about this 'big news'.
'You want a drink?' Tiom counters, pulling a slender vial of faintly glowing, purple powder out of his pocket. Which shouldn't be a surprise - Ti owns a bar, after all, and most of the stuff a bar typically stocks is powdered now, both for storage and transportation purposes.
'Sure,' Felix agrees, grabbing two cups and filling them with water from his battered old filter that lives next to the rice cooker. He hasn't had it hooked up to the main city supply - //way// too expensive - so Felix's water comes bottled, once a month, from a friend he made in the Service Level's water treatment team.
If Tiom is surprised by the sparsity of furniture in Felix's home, he's polite enough not to mention it, simply dropping to a cross-legged position on the floor across from the sleeping mat. Felix sits too, watching as Tiom expertly mixes just the right amount of powder into the cups that they shimmer, and a strong, sweet and vaguely familiar scent emanates before he even takes a sip.
'This is good,' he tells his friend. 'Thanks for bringing it.'
'Well, I'm celebrating. Kind of.'
At Tiom's shifty expression, concern fills Felix. When someone owes a casino as much money as Tiom does, they'll do just about anything to get out from underneath the debt. He takes another sip, waiting for his friend to spit it out.
And while he waits, the countdown timer on his admin task keeps ticking on the device next to him on the sleeping mat.
But Tiom doesn't seem to be in any hurry to talk. He puts his cup down and leans back on his elbows, his eyes hazy as he gazes out towards the window. It's not exactly a spectacular view, so it's not clear what he's meant to be looking at.
'Ti? What's going on with you?' Felix tries.
A deep sigh comes out of Tiom, like a deflating neo-plastic balloon.
'I'm getting married,' he says, softly.
For a long moment, Felix isn't sure how to respond. Tiom's weird mood means a simple 'congratulations' doesn't seem right, but what other response is there when your good friend announces they're getting hitched?
'Who's the lucky guy or girl?' he settles on. 'It's not... what's her name, the one from the bar...?'
Tiom snorts and shakes his head. 'You mean Lira? Nah, we're just friends.'
Felix has seen Tiom and Lira together, and does not believe this for a second, but if it's not her, then...
'Her name's Natasia. She's...'
But he doesn't need to finish that sentence. It's like the jagged pieces of an awful puzzle snap together, and Felix can't hide his shock.
'Natasia Vicente? The casino heiress?'
Tiom winces. 'Yeah, that one.'
The concern he felt before morphs into something else, something clawing and desperate - because this is //big//. This isn't just a quick job to pay off a debt - this will change his friend's entire life - it could even drastically shorten it.
And then, next to him on the sleeping mat, Felix's device vibrates as a warning message pops up from ALRAA. //Task incomplete - deadline approaching.//
'I have to finish this,' he mumbles, snatching up the machine. 'Can you give me like, half an hour, and then we can talk about this?'
'I //need// to talk about it,' Tiom replies, 'That's why I came over. But I don't know if I've got half an hour - I'm supposed to be meeting her brothers tonight. Seriously, Felix, I need you to talk me off the cliff I'm walking here.'
It's too much for him to process all at once - life often feels like that in the Underrime. He wants to be there for his friend, //and// he wants to get his task done so he has enough credits to eat tomorrow //and// he doesn't want to get in trouble with ALRAA or the client the task is for (another casino, imagine that), //and// his head is swimming now from whatever the hell was in that purple drink Tiom gave him. Meeting a casino boss's sons while tipsy seems like a terrible idea anyway, and he kind of wants to point that out too.
Isn't this why he agreed to have this piece of junk Decision Chip implanted in the first place? Well, then - Felix decides how to proceed.
[[A wave of rage washes over Felix|Aggressive Tiom]], until it's all he can feel.
[[Felix takes a deep breath|Assertive Tiom]], determined to think this through.
[[Forget the task, it's just a job|Passive Tiom]] - with his friend sitting right in front of him, Felix can't just ignore his pain.'I'm sorry, man - I'm swamped with Tasks right now, I can't hang out.'
'Oh.' For a moment, Tiom seems taken aback. He reaches up and scratches his jaw with his cybernetic arm - the arm he has as the result of a hovercab accident and a huge loan from an underground casino.
Despite being neck-deep in that kind of trouble though, Tiom is a friendly, pleasant guy and Felix really values him as a friend.
'It's just that I've unexpectedly got the afternoon off,' Tiom explains. 'I, uh, have kind of big news and I thought I could come over to share it with you.'
And this is weird. It's not like Tiom to be tentative when he speaks - he's usually the most assertive person Felix knows. It's also kind of weird that he didn't send a ping to Felix's commun-implant to say he was coming over. And then there's the fact he came all the way over to Lillegracht to share this 'big news'...
[[New plan - let him in |Let Tiom in]]
[[Stay firm - don't let him in]]'I really can't, Ti. I'm sorry.'
'Yeah, it's fine, I get it. Look, I might not be around much for a few weeks, but don't worry about me. I found a way out from under what I owe, that's all.'
Tiom walks away before Felix can ask any follow ups.
Despite feeling a little uneasy about that whole conversation, Felix heads back to his work, which he finishes slowly as his mind continues to flit back to the disappointment on Tiom's face, as well as the vagueness in his words. Did he make the right choice, in sending his friend away?
When he's finished, and the credits drop into his account (which causes his financial skinlay to thrum under the skin of his wrist), he tries to ping a message to Tiom via his commun-implant. Nothing, not even the standard electronic chime that indicates the message has landed in the recipient's inbox. Wherever Tiom's headed for this mysterious task to pay off his debts, he's clearly already gone.
And Felix will simply have to wait until he comes back to check in again.
For dinner, he cooks some rice and heats up some packaged daal in his rice cooker. It's nowhere near as good as if he'd gone to one of the markets, but it means he doesn't have to go out again. As he consumes his uninspiring meal, he attempts to watch a show using his broken device, but it keeps stuttering so he gives up. He wasn't really paying attention anyway. Instead lets the sounds of the city filter in from outside, wishing the hubbub of passing voices, the occasional distant yelling, the ever-present electronic hum of the neo-neon signs throughout the Underrime, didn't all add to his anxiety for his friend.
That night he sleeps badly, so it's not really a surprise when he wakes up to find his neck stitches have burst, and the Decision Chip has slid out onto his pillow, dried on with a small patch of dried blood.
[[Chip Disabled |Game Over]]This is //ridiculous//. How dare he do this? He didn't say he was coming over, he just turned up and //assumed// it would be fine. And now he just //assumes// Felix will drop everything to listen to him whine about stuff that is, frankly, his own bloody problem!
Look, life in the Underrime is harsh, and that means that sometimes, you have to //be// harsh, just to survive.
'A hundred credits,' he snaps.
'What?' Tiom's face creases in confusion.
'That's the price of my missing my task and acting as your damn therapist. Take it or leave it, Ti, time's a-ticking and I've got rent in two days.'
The air is thick and tense as Tiom processes this.
'Fine, I'm going,' he grumbles, climbing to his feet and marching towards the door. Before he leaves though, he turns back with a glare.
'I'll remember this, Felix - next time //you// need a shoulder to cry on, you might find there isn't one. Life sucks enough down here, but it sucks a hell of a lot more without friends.'
Felix rolls his eyes and finishes the task for ALRAA. The credits clink into his account about three seconds before the remains of that shimmering, purple drink demand a rerun, sending Felix running for the sink.
He sleeps badly - of course - and wakes up feeling unsettled. Is Ti going to be okay? Maybe he overreacted, just a little. Tiom was right about one thing, it's hard down here without friends, and he hopes his temper in the face of feeling so overwhelmed hasn't completely shattered his camaraderie with Tiom.
Maybe he should send a wedding gift? He'd need to do another task, first... but before he can get distracted with anything like that, he has somewhere else to be. Today's the day he needs to [[Visit the chip installer]].Felix breathes in.
And out.
And in.
And out.
And then he says:
'Ti, you are like, my best friend down here, and I agree, we should //definitely// talk about this thing. But at the same time, my rent is due in two days, and this task is due in like, an hour. Unless you want both of us in trouble with the casino families of the Underrime, I do just need some time to get this done.'
Somehow, the sincerity in his voice must get through, because Tiom seems to come back to himself, and nods.
'Yeah, I get it. I'm probably a bit buzzed for a serious talk anyway - I forgot how strong this purple one is - I just grabbed the first thing I saw on my way out of the bar.'
Felix considers this.
'Look, why don't you go for a walk for twenty minutes or so? I can probably get this done in that time, and then when you're back I can walk with you to where you're meeting Natasia's brothers. We can talk on the way - win-win.'
Tiom agrees, and seems relieved that someone else has given him a solid plan. In the event, twenty minutes is plenty of time, and Felix is already outside to meet him when he gets back from his walk.
Despite the serious nature of their conversation, the walk is actually pretty nice, and Felix is glad he didn't lose his rag over this, despite the urge to earlier. It would have been easy to either give up on the job and deal with the consequences later, or else fly off the handle at Tiom and feel like a terrible friend. This way, they both get what they need - and by the time they reach the late night coffee place where Tiom is meant to be meeting his future in-laws, they've both sobered up and talked a whole bunch of stuff out.
'I really appreciate this,' Tiom tells him. 'Obviously you'll be invited to the wedding... weird as it is to say that.'
'And I'll be there to support you - every time,' Felix tells him honestly.
Weirdly, that night Felix sleeps well despite the lingering worry for his friend. In the morning he's somewhat refreshed, helped by the fact his financial skinlay is no longer throbbing to remind him of his poverty.
He has a job on his to-do list today, one he's pretty interested in the outcome of:
[[Visit the chip installer]]With resigned finality, Felix flips the device over so he can no longer see the cracked screen or the ominous warning message under it.
'Alright, man,' he tells Tiom. 'I'm all yours.'
For the first time, Tiom relaxes, and then he begins his story. It's long, and at one point he gets up to refill their drinks. He's worried about his bar, he says, and that once he's been married into the Vicente family, they'll think of it as a Vicente asset, using it for the kind of criminal activity the casino families are so well known for. But he didn't have a better alternative, and Natasia seems nice, sweet even - although sometime after the second drink, he does admit that yeah, he's not 'just friends' with Lira, and he's going to have to tell her they can't see each other anymore, and he doesn't want to //hurt// her, but he also doesn't want to stop seeing her, not really, because she's just so easy to be with... and no matter how sweet Natasia Vicente seems, she won't be that. Anything but that. And anyway, he's got a feeling his other friend has a thing for Lira, and he doesn't like how that makes him feel - but what's he going to do? Even if someone else makes a move, he's going to be //married//, for goodness' sake...
Felix listens as best he can, a pit of dread opening in his stomach the longer Tiom talks. He feels the small vibration of his device that warns him his time is up, and for the first time ever, he's failed to deliver a task.
But then Tiom mixes them another drink, and before too long, Felix stops even caring.
Until the morning, that is. With a pounding head, dry mouth and the agonising dread of regretful memory. He was too much of a coward to check the consequences for missing that task last night, but now he has no choice. With shaking hands he reaches for the tablet.
//ACCESS REVOKED FOR FIVE DAYS// the system tells him firmly.
And rent is due in two. Something cold settles in the floor of his stomach, and he forces himself up. With no tasks to do, there's only one job he absolutely has to do today:
[[Visit the chip installer]]The 'installation engineer' (a fancied-up term for a glorified sales rep with a scalpel) is based on a shady backstreet, because of course she is.
'Hi Mihika. You said I should come back in when I've had some time to try this new chip out.'
'Oh, Felix! Excellent timing, my 10 am didn't show. Hop up.'
She ushers him into a medical chair, her hands already reaching for her metal trolley with all her tools on it even as the articulated, tentacular pseudo-limbs connected to her spine begin to stick wired nodes across his temples, hooking him up to a complicated display that immediately brings up a holographic model of his brain.
Mihika tinkers with some settings, while Felix experiences that same out-of-body sensation he always does when he can see different parts of his own mind lighting up, especially when his brain pings and then his knees twitch of their own accord.
'So, it looks like the chip's taken into your system with no problems,' she comments. 'How have you found it?'
Felix thinks about his experience over the past day. It's been... //interesting//, not having to make as many decisions. Sometimes, he's barely even been aware he //was// making a choice at all. But at the same time, there's a weird, nagging awareness that maybe there were other options for some of his interactions. It's like, for the first time, he's questioning how much of his fate is set in stone and how much of it has has any control over. It feels... weird.
He tries to explain this to Mihika, but about halfway through, it's clear she doesn't really understand. Why would she? This girl is essentially half-tech at this point; she's probably evolved beyond the existential musings that Felix is currently plagued by.
'So... what are you thinking? I know you agreed to have it fitted to make some money, but I've got the go-ahead from the company to let you keep it instead, if you'd rather?'
And that's the big question really, isn't it?
[[Keep the chip |Chip no payment]]
[[Take the money |No chip defeated]]
Comm Cluster 16 is, like all the clusters, a huge, self-contained building that feels at once perfectly designed for its purpose and at the same time sort of... industrial. Sterile.
Back when Felix lived in the Comm (Cluster 12, to be precise), he learned that the design for the clusters was based on some of the huge 'community-style retail spaces' of the pre-Catastrophic Events world, a fact that often boggles Felix's mind. They had buildings like this //just// for shopping?
Cluster 16 is laid out over six floors, a mix of residential quarters, retail spaces and public amenities like schools and doctors' surgeries. It's designed so that technically, the residents of each cluster never have any need to leave their designated building. They obviously //can//, but growing up here Felix knew loads of people who just... didn't.
Why would they go to Cluster 2's gym, when their own was exactly the same and only two escalator rides away?
He swipes his microchipped finger against the scanner in one of the central ALRAA machines, which gives him a map display of the cluster with a blinking green dot where he needs to meet his fellow tasker - right outside the level three food hall. He hops on an escalator, trying not to let himself feel uncomfortable here, a place where he grew up but now absolutely no longer belongs.
For some reason, level 3 is heaving with holo-ads today, so Felix is forced to dodge several projected images of people trying to engage him in sales pitches. They always make him feel strange, something about the light quality and the 2D nature of the holograms disagreeing with him.
So, he's already in a less than good mood when he makes it to the meeting point. When he sees his fellow tasker, he has to fight the urge to simply turn around and stuff the whole thing off.
Because the other tasker is NOT who they're supposed to be.
Felix was expecting a thick-set, older woman with steel-grey hair and a no-nonsense attitude, That's who appeared on ALRAA's TaskMatch, anyway - so why was there a skinny, teenager in front of him now? This isn't a little thing - he //knows// people do this sometimes, renting out their Tasker profiles to randoms who can't get their own for some reason - but it's always a risk. For everyone involved.
There's usually a good reason someone can't get a Tasker account of their own, for one thing. For another, if ALRAA finds out Felix knowlingly completed a task with an unverified tasker, he could lose his own account.
All in all, this is the LAST thing he needs. But he has a choice in how to respond.
[['What the hell, bro?' |Aggressive Tasker]] After all, why not be direct about how he feels?
[[Get on with it. |Passive Tasker]] If this kid made it this far, they obviously know how to hide from ALRAA. It will probably be fine.
[['Before we do anything, you're going to explain yourself.' |Assertive Tasker]] He's not prepared to make any decisions without all the facts.The kid's head snaps up, alert, and Felix sees an immediate flash of fear on their face.
But that's not Felix's problem, is it?
'Where is she?' he snaps.
The kid tries to speak, but all that comes out is a nervous stutter.
Felix rolls his eyes. 'Right, well, I'm not doing this. Good luck with whatever the hell you're trying to pull.'
He's so //angry//! Sure, life's hard, but this impacts //him// as much as anyone else - like, if you're going to take jobs under someone else's account, at least don't use a joint venture to get someone else in trouble too!
He storms away, leaving the kid there, and immediately finds one of the ALRAA machines. Normally, he'd maybe let himself cool down first, but right now the rage is a burning sensation beneath his scalp and it's tickling his brain in such a way he can barely think. He cannot afford to be accused of aiding and abetting that kind of fraud, and after everything he's already dealt with today, this is just... //too much//.
MAKE REPORT? The system blinks at him.
It's not even a decision, this time. He hits YES.
Later, when he's calmed down, Felix wonders if that was really the right decision. If maybe there wasn't a better way... especially when he heads out towards the waste hydraulics (absolutely no chance of a private transport when he's not getting paid from this job). He can't help seeing the heavily-armoured Securibot unit that sweeps past him, towards Cluster 16 - and he strongly suspects he knows who they're looking for.
ALRAA's security detail is not known for being gentle with fraudsters.
But then again, if he'd gone along and done the job with a known faker, and got caught... the Securibots could well have been looking for him right now.
When he makes it home, his evening has been mostly wasted, and he has no credits to show for it. Surely, he thinks mutinously, ALRAA could at least send him some thank you credits for reporting the fake tasker? But, no, that's not in the policy.
And so, reluctantly, he turns his broken device back on, and picks up another task, working through the night instead of sleeping.
Which means when it's time to [[Visit the chip installer]] the next day, he's already in a bad mood, with a horrific headache.He doesn't feel good about it, but sometimes it's just easier to go with the flow, right? And, he reassures himself, the kid's likely done this before.
'Whatever,' he shrugs. 'Let's do this thing.'
The kid slackens with relief, and trails after Felix into the food hall.
The job itself is relatively straightforward; a bunch of new flatpack tables and chairs need putting together, to replace the old, scuffed ones that ALRAA has ascertained make the food hall look 'shabby'. Not to worry - the old tables will be swiftly recycled, made into something new and flat pack for some other tasker to put together on the say-so of an all-seeing, all-knowing AI.
Well, not quite all-knowing, obviously.
The teenage tasker doesn't really speak, but proves themselves enthusiastic about following instructions, and so everything is going swimmingly for about forty-five minutes. And then,
'I need a break.' The kid practically whispers, and when Felix looks up, they are pale and shaking.
Felix taps the back of his hand and his timepiece skinlay flashes along his forearm.
'We don't have time for a break,' he points out. 'We've got nineteen more chairs to do, and only 35 minutes left to do it.'
He forces his tone calm, even as the trembling tasker shakes their head hopelessly.
'I'll pass out,' the kid says. 'I can't.'
Dread pools in Felix's gut and he swallows, various possible futures splaying out across his anxious mind. He can't report the kid now; not when they've already started the job. ALRAA would know he aided a faker, and he doesn't want to turn any Securibot attention his way.
But he doesn't even know if he //can// finish all this himself in time - even with the kid there to hold bits of furniture, they're averaging 2 minutes per piece, so if they take a break of even 5 minutes they'll have shafted their chance of finishing on time. Felix has never failed to complete a task before, and he's not keen to find out what happens if he does.
But the kid is //clearly// on the verge of passing out. Felix neither knows nor much cares what's going on with them, but it's beyond obvious they're not going to be any help to him now.
And so there's really only one thing to do - and that's to crack on, by himself, as fast as he possibly can. The kid grabs one of the finished chairs and sags into it, watching blankly as Felix rushes through the rest of the work as best he can.
The first chair takes about five minutes, as Felix tries to work out how to lean legs against the wall to brace while he uses the screwdriver. He does at least figure it out, but he's already behind as he practically throws the finished chair behind him and snatches up the next one.
The whole world tunnels down into this race against time. He is no longer even aware of the useless kid watching him, or the slow-growing pile of assembled furniture around him. Just the faint glow of the digital numbers shining through his skin, and the sound of the screwdriver whining as he screws seats to legs.
He doesn't stop to take stock, he just keeps going, even as the minutes tick down into seconds. Even as -
Five.
Four.
Three...
His hands are so slick the screwdriver slips in his fingers.
Two.
It happens too quick for him to comprehend, or to flick off the machine as the metal head drives into his thigh.
One.
Blood spurts out of Felix's leg at the same moment he runs out of time.
The wound is... not great; he doesn't know much about the blood vessels in his leg but he's fairly sure there shouldn't be //so much//, so quick. He yells out in agony, and looks up to the kid for help, but the other tasker is already up, backing away with panic on written clearly on their face.
'No one can find me,' they mutter. 'I'm so sorry.'
And then they turn and run, even as Felix's communimplant pings, sending an automatic aid call out to ALRAA. His leg is //really// bleeding, to the extent his skin feels clammy and sticky and cold and he sinks to the floor. He knows what will happen now: ALRAA will send a Medibot, which Felix cannot afford but can't refuse either, and he'll have to spend the next several months working back the debt. He could argue he was injured on the job, but the fact it happened the same moment he failed this task means ALRAA will likely argue he's no longer covered under the Accident At Work policy.
And there'll be questions to ask about the other tasker, too - how is he going to explain any of that?
But he doesn't have too much time to worry. The Medibot arrives, sleek and silent and administering a syringe of sedative before Felix can even ask it to stop. His consciousness fades out, and then there's nothing he can even do.
Once at the medical bay, all his skinlays are temporarily deactivated so the healing nanobots can do their work, including his Decision Chip.
[[Felix is unconscious |Game Over]]The facts are these:
Time is limited.
Felix needs money - he's pretty sure this kid does too, from the look of them.
But he doesn't easily trust people, especially not ones who are openly committing fraud right under ALRAA's virtual nose.
So he waits for the kid's story.
After a tense moment, the other tasker nods, and opens their mouth. Their voice is halting and low.
'My grandma's ill,' they say quickly. 'It came on last night. I need to get her some medication, but our landlady's Echelon, and she's just put our rent up again. She's already sold everything not nailed down to pay for me to go to school, which also means I'm registered in education so... so I can't get an account of my own and I'm desperate. I know this isn't allowed, but I didn't know what else to do.'
A pang of sympathy assails Felix - not enough to ease his fears, though. He gets it, but he also has to protect himself. But he's curious -
'How did you even get access to your gran's account?'
A tired smile briefly flickers over the tasker's face. 'I'm studying to become an ALRAA Service Engineer; last term we did an ethical hacking module. So, I just... well, I did some //un//ethical hacking to get inside the Task Assignment system.'
Which is so //risky// it makes Felix's teeth ache. Everything about this kid screams naivety - what reason on the desecrated Earth is there for them to trust Felix enough to admit all this? Why did they even sign up to a joint venture?
'I hacked your profile,' the kid admits. 'I know you take tasks from all kinds of clients, casinos as well as the Comm. So... you know this world isn't black and white. You know sometimes you have to operate in the murk.'
Okay, so this kid just basically called him 'morally grey'. Felix isn't entirely sure that's a compliment, but he can't exactly deny it. Still, he scowls in warning and the kid rushes on - even as Felix notices they're trembling, and pale - apparently Grandma isn't the only one who's feeling ill. He recognises the symptoms now: the cybershakes, a sign of embedded tech that hasn't been properly updated and serviced. Usually because the victims couldn't afford it. Not contagious, at least.
They've taken a huge gamble, Felix can see that. He could report them //and// their grandmother, and then they'd be doubly screwed: cybershakes only get worse until that tech gets serviced, and they'd have to deal with that on top of ALRAA's Securibots coming after them for fraud. But he can also understand why they've done this - they can't success in a task by themselves, not while they're shaking like that - and so they've found a fellow tasker, a stranger, and put their faith in him.
Felix isn't a saint, but as he processes the kid's story, he begins to see a way forward.
'Can you hack this task and extend the time we've got?' he asks. 'If you can, then I can do the assembly and we'll both get paid. //And// you'd owe me a favour, if I need a hacker in future.'
'Yeah,' the kid agrees instantly, relief shining out of their eyes. 'Yeah, that's easy. I can't, like, increase the payment because that would get noticed, but extending the time should be no problem.'
So that's what they do. Felix establishes how long it takes him to assemble each item of furniture, and the kid hacks into ALRAA via one of the main displays to extend the task time. Felix doesn't understand any of what they do to achieve it, but it's clear to him the kid is some kind of AI-whisperer, because no sirens blare, no Securibots arrive to arrest them.
Knowing he has time, he doesn't even really mind assembling all the furniture by himself - the kid (who eventually introduces themself as Breca) helps hold bits of flatpack when instructed, but Felix is conscious of their growing weakness and lets them rest regularly. They get finished well within the extended timeframe Breca programmed into the system.
'You've literally saved our lives,' Breca tells Felix when the credits clink into their accounts. 'I won't forget.'
'Look, we both got something out of this,' Felix shrugs. 'Go and get your skinlays updated, for you and your grandmother.'
Breca looks in danger of flinging their trembling arms around Felix, but they hold themself back.
'I won't forget your favour,' they promise. 'You need something hacked, give me a shout.'
And in a world like Rime, that's a very handy offer to have in the bank.
Obviously, Felix is exhausted after finishing two peoples' worth of work, and he sleeps like the dead once he gets home. In the morning he aches, and has to practically crawl out to grab some breakfast. But that's okay - he's surviving, isn't he? Some days, that's all he can really ask for.
Still, the way Breca shook because of a defective skinlay makes him feel weird, so he decides that today is as good a day as any to [[Visit the chip installer]]There are pros and cons to this whole decision chip thing, but he does feel it's helped him make his choices - and with any luck, making better decisions over time will give him a better chance of survival in this overcrowded, corruption-filled Ark City.
Reminding himself of that might just ease the sting of the fact he's not getting paid for the trial, now. Still, he has a few meagre credits in his account, and the whole of the Underrime ahead of him.
So... what should he get for lunch?
[[credits]]Losing the chip was definitely the best choice, Felix thinks as he slinks back out into the pastel-washed street. And he got paid! It's difficult to feel too much like he's lost something when he's got plenty of credits clinking in his account.
He just felt sort of //weird// about letting something else make his decisions for him, and he can't shake the feeling that maybe those decisions weren't always right. He knows that once upon a time people used to trust AIs and tech companies with all kinds of things, but the Catastrophic Events put paid to that, mostly. In the Underrime, most people don't even really trust ALRAA - and Felix is one of those people.
Besides, Felix knows as well as anyone that unregulated tech can have unexpected, long-lasting effects.
Yeah, he's definitely better off without it...
So now, then - what should he have for lunch?
[[credits]]