Acrylic watched her leave the seedy establishment. He filtered out everything else from the feed that was directly wired into his brain and started running a facial recognition trace. This would take a few hours, so he could relegate it to the background processes while he watched a little of something else.

Acrylic was wired into the entire system of the city. It was highly illegal, punishable with utmost severity. It took him awhile to achieve, and he had suffered more than a few close calls while he set the tap up, but when he was in, he was in. He’d used backdoors and subnets and subnet masks and stealth software and server redirects and logic bombs and every other sort of cybertech imaginable, but he did it.

The system mentally pinged him. He had her location. The software had worked more quickly than he had expected.


He punched up the feed from her location and saw her board a subway; she was the car’s lone passenger. He effortlessly hacked the vidscreens in it.

“Hello,” he said.

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