* * * * *
Titus was shaking hands with Franklin and grinning broadly when the replay of their last meeting stopped running in Franklin’s head. Franklins focus returned to his current situation standing outside the prison and this impromptu meeting with Titus Briggs. Apparently Titus had skimmed to Pleasanton from San Francisco and in person to find Franklin. Something important was happening. Franklin decided he would wait for Titus to explain.
“Did you get your final interview?” Titus asked; “Not with Al McKnight of course, I mean with the other guy.”
“Yes,” Franklin answered apprehensively.
“Fine, that’s fine,” Titus said, and then, “Come with me, I will give you a lift back to Sacramento, we can discuss your feature on the way.”
Franklin suspected that Titus was interested in publishing his content work. But to drive out here and meet with him in front of the prison; this seemed so out of character.
Franklin knew that the execution of Al McKnight was an important content feature, and surmised that the content men assigned to interview McKnight and deliver this feature were not able to find a compelling story.
Franklin imagined that Titus was on a tight deadline for the content feature on Al McKnight. This could be Franklin’s big break into content feature writing. He might sell his first content feature on the ride home.
Franklin said, “Thank you, I had no idea how I would get home tonight. With this crowd here; there will be a long skim-taxi queue.”
“Fine,” Titus said walking back towards the skimmer.
Franklin dutifully followed behind him. As Franklin approached the long black skimmer something in the back of his mind was bothering him; like a word unremembered.
Franklin traced his thoughts back to his last meeting with Titus; something was there, something was amiss.
When they got to the door of the skimmer Franklin could see that the windows were heavily tinted in the modern style. Titus held open the skimmer door for Franklin and Franklin tried unsuccessfully to elegantly shift his wide frame into the back seat. After some effort, he was situated.
The skimmer’s interior was spacious. Franklin was able to sit comfortably. Titus got in from the other passenger door and sat in the seat across from Franklin. This meant Titus was sitting with his back to the driver. The driver could not be seen. There was a dark partition separating the driver from the passengers. Franklin wondered if a human or a Warmbot was driving.
Titus reached up and rapped on the partition with the back of his hand; a moment later, the skimmer started moving.
“Shall we have a drink?” Titus asked.
He opened a small cabinet and lifted two crystal tumblers. He poured gold colored whiskey into each and handed one to Franklin.
Franklin sipped at his drink. It was strong, but mellow and smoky.
“Taste the whiskey,” Franklin said to himself reflectively.
“What’s that?” Titus asked.
“Oh, the drink, it reminded me of something Anand told me. It was a slogan they used to attract users to synap into the Wild West Alive game.” Franklin said, and then he quoted the slogan,
“Kiss the Saloon girl, taste the whiskey, smell the gun smoke.”
“Clever,” Titus said, “You can use that in the pulp feature.”
“I was planning to,” Franklin said.
Franklin noticed the blue number on a digital clock mounted above the small bar cabinet. It read 12:02AM. He realized Anand was probably dead now. He had been condemned by the state; and executed by the Warmbots.
Franklin took a long drink on the strong whiskey and let the strong flavor fill his palette and sinuses. The taste of the whiskey tamped down his emotional reaction to the realization that Anand Ramasubramanian was gone.
“Fine, that’s fine,” Titus continued, oblivious to Franklin’s discomfort.
Titus took a long drink of the whisky and said,
“Tell me about your content feature. What secrets did you learn?”
Franklin felt guarded. He was uncomfortable with Titus for the first time; but then Titus was acting strangely. Titus had never been enthusiastic about an unheard feature before. Franklin had never seen Titus outside the high offices of Brandon and Stern. Franklin’s mind buzzed with nervous energy. Something was wrong but he could not see it. He could not figure it out. He decided to stall.
“It’s all pulp,” Franklin said. “There was no content feature here after all.”
There was quiet as Franklin waited for Titus to respond. To fill the quiet, Franklin added,
“There is a good bit about the first sexual encounter using synaptic derivation. Between Anand and the surgeon who invented the implant operation. We could do something interesting with that.”
Titus pressed him, “Franklin, you promised content. You told me you were working on content; tell me what you learned.”
Franklin squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He was reminded of the content man he met in the conference room who was also uncomfortable in his chair when Titus pressed him for a content feature on Al McKnight.
At that meeting, Franklin remembered telling all of the details related to Wild West Alive. It was a pure pulp feature. He remembered thinking his Synap host’s voice was high and girlish and not an appropriate narrator for the violent western feature.
Before, that Franklin had met with Titus in his office, where he had admired the wide panorama view of the Bay Bridge. At this meeting Franklin had asked for a content assignment and Titus had tried to talk him out of it saying Pulp writers never break into content. Titus seemed inconsistent. This whole meeting, the luxury skimmer, the whiskey, this did not seem like the Titus Briggs that Franklin knew. But then Franklin had never actually met with Titus in person before. Their meetings were always via a synapse Host that Franklin had rented for the occasion.
Franklin realized what was bothering him. All at once, like the forgotten word remembered.
“Titus,” Franklin said, “How did you recognize me?”
“What?” Titus said confused.
“When you got out of the skimmer,” Franklin continued, “You walked right towards me. You recognized me, but we have never met in person before; you recognized me from behind and in a dark crowd. How do you know what I look like?”
A long moment passed in silence, and then another. Franklin listened to the wind on the windows and watched as Titus seemed to be arriving at a decision. Presently Titus responded. He said simply.
“My name is Hans Hoobler.”
The coupling of biological systems (human hosts or organic robots) together with computer databases across a wide network, taken as a whole, is broadly recognized as the WetWeb.
- WetWiki