Supercute second future, p.3
Supercute Second Future, page 3
‘I just came to say hello. We’re such fans of yours over at AimYa.’
‘I don’t think your board of directors are fans of ours, Penny Cutie.’
‘Please, call me Cutie! All my friends do. Did you watch my show last night?’
‘No.’
‘You should have! I was super nice about your new Big Purple Glitter Boots. I’m wearing them now.’ Cutie looked down at her feet. The Supercute boots were solidly constructed, only ankle height but with a five centimetre platform and three leather straps over the laces. Supercute sold a wide range of glitter boots, some quite delicate and some, like those Cutie was wearing, very solid. ‘I expect I made you a lot of new sales.’
‘Thanks for the endorsement, Cutie.’ Mox remained guarded, not sure why Cutie was here.
‘Are you going to the Paris Winter fashion show, Melancholic Beauty?’
‘We haven’t decided.’ Mitsu was equally guarded, having no wish to give away any hint of their movements.
‘You should go! We could meet up. I’ve been planning my melancholic beauty outfit for such a long time.’
‘We’ll think about it. We’ll probably be too busy.’
‘We’re such big fans of yours at AimYa! Do let me know if you make it to Paris. We can all meet.’
And with that, Penny Cutie was gone, leaving Mox and Mitsu puzzled and dissatisfied. Mox was scowling, as she had been since Cutie appeared. ‘What was that about?’
‘I doubt it was a friendly visit. Was it meant to be some sort of warning? Do they know about Spacewalk? Was she letting us know that AimYa knows we’re meeting PXP in Paris?’
Mitsu connected to Igraine. ‘Igraine, did you pick up anything strange?’
‘Nothing untoward. No attempt at breaching our systems.’
‘What about voice analysis? Was she threatening us?’
Their AIFU’s eyes flickered as she analysed her recording of the conversation. ‘Her voice was artificially modulated to filter out any emotional clues. Her holo was using a standard mask to avoid any sort of identifiable body language. I’m afraid there’s no way of discerning any hidden meaning in her words.’
‘Do AimYa know we’re trying to buy Spacewalk?’
‘Very unlikely. As far as the outside world knows the project is dead. Every mention of it in this building has been well shielded.’
‘Pharma Xeng Port might not have been as careful,’ said Mitsu. ‘Word could have leaked out from their end.’
Igraine’s eyes flickered again. She was designed for intellect rather than strength and was no taller than Mox or Mitsu and almost as slender. ‘There’s an interesting lack of background on Penny Cutie. Her official background of being a nineteen-year-old from Southampton is undoubtedly false but there’s no path back to her actual origin. It’s been well covered up.’
‘I hope she wasn’t really here to invite us to a fashion show.’ Mox sounded withering, and decidedly English upper-class, as she did when she disapproved of anything. ‘The mind rebels at the thought of spending time with that fraudulent little imitator. Her blouse was simply copied from our Beautiful Lovely Sky range.’
‘She didn’t suit these boots either,’ added Mitsu.
‘Are preparations ready for our journey to Paris?’
‘Yes.’ Igraine nodded. ‘Mr Castle has been raising objections with me all day. Did Mr Mech mention the unusual graffiti?’
‘Khary Mech? Graffiti? What’s this?’
‘I thought he may have mentioned it. I advised him to.’
Khary Mech was Supercute’s Senior Game Director. His offices were on the west of their headquarters where he directed and co-ordinated the work of all the various studios around the world involved in the production of Supercute Space Warriors and other Supercute titles.
‘Connect us to him.’
Khary Mech appeared on a floating screen. He looked young for the seniority of his position but he’d been involved in gaming worlds all his life and had an outstanding reputation. Supercute had poached him from a rival some years ago. ‘Khary, what’s this about strange graffiti?’
Khary Mech scowled. Noticing Igraine on another screen next to Mox and Mitsu, his scowl intensified. ‘It’s nothing. I don’t know why Igraine is so concerned.’
‘What was it?’
Khary Mech brought up a picture. They recognised it immediately as Helixio, a city on the southern continent of Planet Vespasian. Helixio was blanketed in thick green smog as it always was. Various important events in Supercute Space Warriors took players to the city though it was never a pleasant place to visit. The Senior Games Director zoomed in through the smog, into the heart of the city then out towards the industrial zone to the West. There, through the gates of a chemical processing plant, he showed them a small, dark space behind a warehouse, where someone had scrawled on the wall.
When the revolutionary proletariat manifests itself, it will not be as a new audience for a new spectacle, but as people actively participating in every aspect of their lives.
Mitsu laughed. ‘Well, that makes a change. Usually people just draw penises.’
Khary Mech nodded. ‘It’s unusual graffiti but I don’t know why Igraine is worried. It’s just someone playing a joke.’
Mox turned to Igraine. ‘Why does this bother you? It’ll be automatically removed when the game resets tomorrow, same as always.’
Igraine frowned, awkwardly. Frowning was one of the expressions she was yet to master. ‘It bothers me for several reasons. It’s in a very obscure location. No one has any reason to visit that chemical factory. Why travel all the way there to deface a wall behind a warehouse where no one will see it? Further, I can’t trace the quote. I assume that talk of the revolutionary proletariat relates to a Marxist position but the lines don’t appear in any Marxist text I have a record of.’
‘Maybe we have an original thinker?’ suggested Mitsu, still amused. ‘People all over the world play Space Warriors, we’ve had strange graffiti before. Can’t you identify who did it?’
‘No,’ admitted Khary Mech. ‘The camera records are unclear.’
Mox and Mitsu’s amusement vanished. Everything that happened in the Space Warriors Galaxy should have been recorded. ‘Do you mean someone’s altered our records?’
‘The smog is particularly thick around there. I can’t tell if it’s been altered or not.’
‘Keep investigating,’ ordered Mox. ‘I don’t mind student revolutionaries writing radical slogans but anyone blocking our in-game cameras would be serious.’
Khary Mech disappeared from the screen. Mox turned back to Igraine. ‘Is this really a worry?’
Igraine was silent for a moment. Her eyes flickered. ‘Something about it concerns me. However I can’t extrapolate from a single example. I’ve asked Mr Mech to inform me of any others.’
‘Right,’ said Mitsu. ‘Has he been to surgery again?’
‘One moment while I access his financial records. Yes, he recently visited his preferred cosmetic practitioner.’
Mox smiled. ‘He’s getting pretty close to Margaret K these days. Another few tucks and he’ll be there.’
For some months Khary Mech had been altering his appearance so that he more and more resembled Margaret K, a member of the Space Warriors crew. She was a weapons expert with super assassination powers, notably bright red hair and the largest collection of shoes on the space cruiser.
‘She is a popular character,’ said Mitsu. ‘Great hair too. I can see the attraction.’
‘Is this important?’ Igraine appeared confused. ‘Do you require regular reports on his surgery?’
Mox and Mitsu laughed. ‘Of course not. We’re just gossiping.’
‘I see. I’m not very good at gossip.’
‘Our headquarters is awash with gossip. You’ll get used to it.’
—
Sorg Message Number 6hket04: I’m so insignificant. No one notices me. No one cares if I’m alive or dead.
6hket05: My gran died. She was the only person that liked me.
—
Sorg/Sadness was a well-known part of Supercute; a place for anonymously writing down your problems. Every day, the anguish of mainly young people around the world would be recorded. Miseries of all sorts could be found there, from a crush going wrong to bullying at school to chronic disease. Personal problems, fashion mistakes, family problems, loneliness, miscarriages, war, famine, disease: everything appeared on Sorg/Sadness. Anyone leaving a message there received a free fluffy virtual kitten, a beautiful little ball of fur that came into your own personal space to comfort you.
No one could abuse Sorg. It was heavily moderated by a dedicated AI and anyone leaving inappropriate messages or attempting to mock another’s sadness would be swiftly identified and removed from the gameworld. Sorg had become an institution. As few places in the world could be said to be happy these days, it was used more and more. Millions of free virtual kittens had been handed out and would continue to be as part of Supercute’s service to their fans.
—
Mox and Mitsu travelled to Paris taking suitable precautions though not anticipating trouble. Most events involving members of C19 were peaceful because C19 had the power to enact crippling sanctions against members who stepped out of line.
After landing at le Deuxième Nouvel Aéroport near Paris they were taken by armoured vehicle towards a small private hotel on the outskirts of the city. They travelled in a convoy, armed guards in front and behind, marshalled and directed by Ms Lesuuda. As always while on active duty, Ms Lesuuda wore her faded Ugandan combat jacket, a garment she’d first put on as a teenage army recruit and retained throughout her subsequent career as a mercenary and security operative. Mini-drones accompanied them above, their screens and sensors being monitored by agents already stationed at the hotel. Back in London, Castle was also monitoring their progress. He maintained an open link to Igraine who travelled in the same car. Mox and Mitsu wore their Supercute business suits from the Girls Fun Work Party range. These were unlike anyone else’s business suits, being coloured in Supercute Peach 8, Supercute Blue 16 and Supercute Pink 19, but they always made them feel professional.
Moving rapidly along private roads they arrived at their hotel. They emerged from their vehicle into relentless heat. Under the constant burning sun the grass surrounding the building was parched and yellow; even the gardens maintained by the luxury hotel wilted under the constant high temperatures and increased ultraviolet radiation of the post-impact world. Mox and Mitsu were closely guarded by their bodyguards as they walked the very short distance from their car to the hotel. It wasn’t enough to prevent a plasma bolt from hitting Mox’s left elbow. Nor was the advanced shielding built into her clothing enough to prevent the plasma bolt from removing her forearm and hand. Before Mox’s yell of pain had died away, Ms Lesuuda had picked her up and sprinted inside. Mitsu ran beside her, her gun now in her hand.
‘Where did that come from?’
The agents in the control room couldn’t say. They’d been monitoring the surrounding airspace but hadn’t detected any hostile drones. Nor was there any sign of enemies nearby. Ms Lesuuda didn’t panic. With Mox in her arms she ran straight past the startled employees at the front desk and up the stairs to the suites on the first floor. As she ran she was already communicating with Dr Ishikawa. ‘Medical emergency. Ms Bennett’s arm blown off at elbow. Arriving in fifteen seconds.’
Dr Ishikawa sprinted towards the large room set aside as a medical unit. Two doctors and two nurses ran at her side. Inside the medical room, small drones took to the air. Less than thirty seconds after the attack, Ms Lesuuda and Mitsu were laying Mox on an operating table and Dr Ishikawa was sterilising her hands as she made ready to direct the surgery. Mox was very pale. Her wound was painful. Normally she had some control over her pain receptors but the plasma bolt had sliced though the tiny relay that modulated the nerve signals to her brain, meaning she could not reduce the discomfort. Despite this, she remained silent. Mitsu gently took her other hand. ‘You’re safe now. We’ll fix you in no time.’
Dr Ishikawa ushered Mitsu out of the way. As she began examining Mox’s wounds on the screens that now floated around the operating table, Castle’s voice could be heard on the communications channel, berating Ms Lesuuda. ‘What the hell? How were you attacked?’
Ms Lesuuda didn’t know. They’d found no trace of the attackers. She looked on with concern as Ishikawa’s team worked rapidly to stop the bleeding, putting Mox into artificial sleep as they sealed up the wound and treated her with tranexamic-d, an artificial compound made for halting artificial blood loss from Mox’s mostly artificial body.
—
Amowie, Birgit, Raquel and Meihui crept silently through the bushes that grew over the low hills surrounding Blaise Valley. The atmosphere on Planet Radiant 2 was thin and each wore a Supercute oxygen mask. All four had pistols at their hips. They were on a mission to steal advanced laser rifles from a supply dump owned by the Kernen Mercenary Army. Amowie came to a halt. Crouching low to remain out of sight of the spy towers further up the valley, she signalled to the others. They’d found the entrance to the secret tunnel that led down into the ammunition dump. If they could make their way inside without being spotted they could steal the laser rifles unobserved and leave the planet without having to fight. That would be a good outcome because the Kernen mercenaries were a strong group, well-armed and aggressive. If they brought up one of their Mk 6 hover tanks it would mean certain defeat. Birgit stepped into the tunnel, examining the way ahead with her level two scanner. Messages from the scanner were relayed to the screen inside all four girls’ visors.
No enemy activity ahead. No enemy traps located.
‘Keoma Bishōjo, advance,’ whispered Amowie. The small squad had taken on the name Keoma Bishōjo when they’d started the game, Keoma being an Igbo word meaning good or attractive, and Bishōjo being a Japanese term for a beautiful young girl. No harm in giving ourselves a boost, as Amowie had said when they registered the name. They advanced, making their way down the worn grey stone steps that led into the cave. The lighting was dim but night-vision mode was incorporated into each of their Space Warriors visors. The four girls had been together in Supercute Space Warriors cooperation mode in many missions and acted as a well-disciplined unit. When they reached the end of the stairs, Meihui accessed the map they’d purchased in Lundra and aligned it with the ground ahead. Immediately, a dim blue light snaked its way from her screen towards the trapdoor that opened up on the cave below, revealing its location. Excited now, but maintaining their silence, the girls hurried towards the trapdoor. Raquel pulled it open. Birgit again consulted her scanner.
No enemy activity ahead. No enemy traps located. They dropped down into the cave, landing silently, cushioned by their combat suits which were black, for night-time missions, with pink trimmings. All around were huge supply crates marked Weapons.
‘The laser rifles should be—’ Amowie didn’t manage to finish the sentence. An alarm went off and the lights came on. Four turrets descended from the roof and another four rose from the floor, opening fire immediately. The girls’ shielding wasn’t strong enough to protect them from the fusillade and they were cut down in an instant. Their mission was a failure and they were dead in the game. They were ejected from the Space Warriors Galaxy. Each of them ended up floating in Amowie’s personal space, quite baffled by their sudden disastrous defeat.
‘Where did these turrets come from? The scanner said there were no traps!’
Raquel scowled, quite fiercely. ‘Our scanner is level two. Obviously their cloaking defences were level three.’
The four girls were disconsolate. It had been an ignominious defeat. Meihui sighed ‘We’re never any good at stealth missions.’
Birgit agreed with her. ‘We’re better when we can just go in shooting.’
Amowie’s personal space was normally a pleasant place to be. There was a large pink bed laden with Supercute cushions and representations of her favourite toys. A miniature Supercute Space Shuttle rotated slowly overhead. Everything was colourful. Despite this the girls were gloomy after their defeat and their eems turned green and sank to the floor. Amowie embraced her Blue Bronto toy for comfort. ‘We need a better scanner.’
‘I wish we could just buy one.’ Raquel sounded annoyed because in this, Supercute’s policies were against them. No one could gain an advantage in any Space Warriors game by spending real money to advance. It was possible to buy new outfits for your characters or new interior designs for your spaceship, but it was not permitted to buy equipment that would give players an advantage. All upgrades had to be earned by completing missions and levelling up. Mox and Mitsu maintained this policy because they remembered being young and poor, and how annoying it had been if games forced players to spend money to advance. Everyone who bought Supercute Space Warriors knew they wouldn’t have to pay more to complete it. Supercute’s marketing division was not in total agreement with this policy, but it engendered fan loyalty and Mox and Mitsu would not be swayed.
Now that the girls’ combat uniforms had disappeared, their Supercute clothes were visible. Raquel was dressed in an array of bright, ultra-thin Supercute blouses layered on top of each other with extravagant additions from the Supercute Super Colour Super Plastic Beads Set, Deluxe Edition, and Birgit had a new Silvex and his Supercute Boyfriend T-shirt in luminous Supercute Yellow 18. Meihui wore a Supercute medical mask with a glittering logo, Fab 306. Fab 306 was the main entertainment channel in Supercute Space Warriors and an important part of their empire.
Amowie’s arm bleeped. A small transparent screen projected upwards from her wrist. ‘What’s this?’ She read from the screen. ‘Two adventurers in Space Warriors Nine have discovered a fragment of poetry written by Jax the Astronomer Poet.’
