The Synergist

[Year 19 | 2271-72]

Now eighteen years of age, Artur was legally considered an adult.  He could now enter clubs, and he could now partake in synthetics in said club.  All he needed to do was get through the upgrade scheduled for his birthday, and the night was for him and his friends—or acquaintances from the program—could party the night away: one last hurrah before Artur’s final year with the Extension Program for Talented Students.  Artur’s chosen education stream had limited his options for his latest hardware enhancement, but he requested a holographic projector be installed, which would enable him to project reference images for his work.

Still sore from the procedure, Artur and his friends entered the Heart’s hottest nightclub.  The ElectroKitty Spot was known for its sheer size, its lighting, the music, and particularly for its wide range of sinthetics: legal drugs which impact both the brain and digital architecture.  As the industrial pop played in the background, Artur swallowed a synthetic pill.  Within minutes, the neon lights were bouncing around with the music, before becoming a whirligig of rainbows.

Artur was truly convinced that he could feel the colours and music through his very being.  His recurring nightmares, memories of his dad, memories of his mum, hidden shinobi tailing him at every corner, all forgotten over the course of the night.  As Artur projected holograms featuring celebrities of the day in various crazy outfits dancing along with the music, the crowd went absolutely wild.  Even Artur’s Conscience chip appeared to have fun, even telling the new adult “Artur, this is fucking awesome.  Dude.”

“Ugh, where am I?  I think I fried my chip.”  Looking around, Artur is lying on a strange bed in a strange apartment.

“You’re at my place,” the strange woman told him.

If Artur could have leapt out of bed, he would have.  But he was still feeling the effect of the previous night’s synthetics.  “Do I know you?”

“What?  I thought we had fun,” the stranger answers.  “I mean, you’re definitely a novice and were impacted by some pretty heavy shit, but you still managed to finish okay.”

“Hopefully my memory of last night returns soon, then.”

“Doubtful.  I dosed you on triple the legal limit of synthesis.”

“What?  Is that even safe?”

“Eh, it fucked you up a bit, but nothing that will do any lasting damage.  Or your toys.”

“Are you sure?  My head’s full of static.”

“That would be your Conscience chip,” the stranger said.  “It’ll be back online within hours.  The synthetics I gave you have taken you offline for the time being.  They mask the effect, so YutopiCorp will be none the wiser.”

“Nice.  Have any more?”

The girl hands Artur a handful of synthetics.  “Keep these hidden, okay?” she says.  “Look, I was sent to find you by Dr. Simril.  He asks that when you graduate, you request a placement at the Wasteland’s head office.”

“My dad’s alive?  And he wants me in a dead-end job?  And he sent you to fuck me?”

“Artur, one: Yes.  Two: If he wants you there, it’s to keep you safe.  And, three: No, I decided to do that when I saw that you’re pretty cute.”

Following his final exam, which he aced, Artur made a request to be located at the Wasteland’s head office.

“Nobody wants to be stationed there, Artur,” the headmaster informed him.

“What’s your game?” his least-favourite instructor asked.

The headmaster looked up from his screen.  “On 15 September, you went dark.”  Artur reacts with shock, having been found out.  “I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt; sometimes people get slipped more powerful synthetics.  But then we found these in your room.”

While Artur enjoyed a bit of time with his illegal synthetics, he was saving some for his time at the Wasteland.

“How did you find out that your father’s at the Wasteland, Artur?” the instructor asked him, as Artur spotted his hands beginning to glow: that is never a sign that you aren’t about to have the absolute crap beaten out of you.

In a panic, Artur leapt from his seat.  Extending his metacarpal blades, Artur launched himself at the instructor, stabbing him through the throat with one fist, and through the chest with the other.  As blood poured from the instructor and dripped from Artur’s hands, he turned to one of the two concealed shinobi in the room.  As Artur launched himself at the first, the headmaster shook his head at the second shinobi, whose katana was drawn, ready to strike.

The first shinobi revealed himself, blocking each of Artur’s attacks.  Artur knew that he had no way of winning the fight, but if he was going to go down, he was going to do it with style, causing as much damage to YutopiCorp as possible.  They took his father; they separated him from his mother.  Now that they were coming after him, it was time to pay.

But pay, they didn’t.  The second shinobi grabbed Artur’s back and unleashed intensified electricity into it.  As Artur’s head hit ground, he heard the headmaster’s voice.

“Oh, you’ll be going to the Wasteland, all right.”  As Artur faded from consciousness, he somehow suspected that this still wasn’t going to be what he had requested.