Go ahead I agree. I always forget to explain to the program that the landlord is myself.
The elevator waits for me. Usually I use the stairs peeking inside other apartments along the way. Nobody lives there anyway but now I'm in hurry. The elevator goes down very fast. I pad out into the street, look around, maybe the insect lover is still near? But there's nobody suspicious nearby, everybody mind their own business. The bug was a passer by obviously, a serial work. These are being crushed on the streets, exterminated in the apartments but they keep coming.
I was having this fun too in my time, it was extremely seldom when those bugs managed to bring any interesting info.
Lenia, the complaint from tenant #1 was received by the "Polyana" company.
I mumble, Ignore it, watching the man that walks along the street. Gee, this is something! The mixture of younger Arnold Shwarzenegger and older Clint Eastwood. Very funny. The man notices my sarcastic look and walks faster.
I raise my hand and the yellow limo stops by the sidewalk in an instant.
Lenia, your complaint was ignored!
Nevermind
This can go forever, but I have no time for games now I get into the car, the driver, a smiling guy with the perfect hairdo dressed in starched shirt, turns to me. I prefer this type of drivers: well trained and brief ones.
Deep-Transit Company is glad to welcome you!
He doesn't say the name the program stopped the taxi anonymously.
How will you pay?
Like this, I say getting the revolver out of my pocket and hit the guy on the temple really hard. He tries to block me but it's too late. I look at his pale face, shook him by the collar and order:
Al-Kabar block.
This address doesn't exist says the driver. He's knocked out and conquered.
Al-Kabar. 8-7-7-3-8. the simple code opens the access to Deep-Transit's service addresses. I could manage without hitting the driver but in this case information about the ride would remain in the company's files.
You've got it, the driver is cheerful and helpful again.
The car is off. I look into the window: residence blocks fly by, packed with skyscrapers inhabited by Deeptown's small fry and huge luxury corporate offices. Long gray IBM buildings, splendid Microsoft's palaces, tracery towers of AOL, a bit more modest offices of other leaders of computer industry.
There are plenty of others of course: furniture, grub, real estate sales firms, travel agencies, transportation companies, hospitals even the least alive and kicking company tends to open its office in Deeptown.
It's this abundance that Deep-Transit flourishes on. Traveling on foot across the city is a long fun. We fly along the freeways, stop on intersections, enter tunnels and cross road junctions. I'm waiting. I could order the driver to go the shortest way but in this case he would need to contact dispatching office and I would leave the trace
The city ends abruptly like the wall of palaces and skyscrapers was cut off by the huge knife. The city loop road and the forest across it, the thick and wild forest that separates from the fuss those who doesn't want to make a show of themselves.
Slow down, I order when we pass the mango growth and approach quite a type of the mid-Russian thicket, Stop by that next path.
It's still a long drive to Al-Kabar
I said stop!
The car stops. I open the door and make a couple of steps from the limo. The driver waits obediently. I wait too for the break in the traffic. Why would we want witnesses? Ah, finally
I aim to the car and shoot. The revolver is not very loud, the kick is slight, but the car takes fire in an instant. The driver sits inside looking forward. Several seconds, and Deep-Transit has one cab less.
Good. Let everything look like drunk punks having fun I enter the forest.
Not ethical mumbles Windows-Home from the clips.
Have you optimized yourself already?
Yes.
Okay, now I need help. Look for the cache, access code: "Ivan".
The glowing tree, says the program.
I look around. Bingo. Here it is, the huge oak tree, glimmering with the magic blue light. Glimmering for me only. I approach it, put my hand into the hollow and grab the big heavy package. Then I change into white linen shirt and pants, tie a patterned belt around, hang a short sword in a sheath on it, put several little things in pockets. I made this cache several days ago, illegally using one of the computers belonging to the Transcaucasian
Railroad's transportation department. The programmers are weak there, they will not notice this little invasion for a long time.
Where's the stream? I ask.
To the right.
I bend over running water and look at my reflection, hit it with my hand several times, then start moving my finger over it, erasing. Now the blond stately robust fellow looks back at me from the troubled mirror. The face is good natured looking and plain to aversion.
Thanks, I say to the program and rise. Standing still I enjoy the forest, hell knows for how long didn't I get here out of the city's stench