Subtext

Introduction

Subtext is a collection of cyberpunk short stories by Victor O. Alvarez. It includes four stories, Subtext, Wipe Down, Sideral Loop and General Inspection.

Subtext

“What’s your name?” “I’m Jess, what’s yours?” “Rake.”

He shared his handle. He was indeed ‘impressed’ by her.

“Say, are you interested in lock picking?” Smiling, she said, “I am, but not as you wish. I mostly rake my way through everything these days.”

“These days?” he said. “I’ll show you how to go beyond raking.”

As his mansplaining continued, her smile grew and so did his curiosity, until he said, as if he didn’t know any better:

“What would you like to know then, if not this?”

And with a wide smile, she said: “Have this key, see for yourself.”

And so she gave him her card with her email. The one from his hero. He didn’t know ‘he’ was her. And that he played her.

No rake, he knew. As much as he would try and as much as he would live, his muse would loop back to her.

Wipe Down

Will and Phil walked down that long street, carrying 40 pound backpacks and following the same route as the mailman follows every day. As they walked, a Cuban man walked back climbing the street and said to Phil:

“Mucho sol caballero, mucho sol.” (There’s too much sunlight, gentleman.)

Phil agreed and said:

“Man, he’s right, why on earth are we walking when we could just take the car.”

“I already told you, we must do this reading by foot, as not cause interference.”

“Why would anyone still have any non-conforming device after the second wipe-down Will? You get me?”

Smiling, Will said: “Well, any nonconforming engineer, scientist and hobbyist. Anyone.”

“Besides, stop complaining, the car will pick us up afterward anyway.”

Slowly but surely, they walked down into the bustling avenue, bought a snack and took their car up to base.

Sideral Loop

As Joseph slept, his 'friends' went to work. He left his cyber-loop on, recording as he slept. He truly wanted to know what he dreamed of this summer, but this was also a risk, because unknown to him, his then-friends might be able to take a look, if they really tried hard enough.

Mark decided to loop him through a nightmare just for scare. He didn't like the fact that Joseph's businesses went so great. Yeah, he was still poor, but he was about to move on from where they lived. Joseph didn't know what was up as he slept, and didn't care anyway. He always cared for what truly meant something for him. Particularly his muse and all his projects, even while being poor.

Meanwhile, Mark figured he could use a past unused wireless key Joseph shared with him to access his cyber-loop for a while, but this was a one-off business, because he would obviously revoke all keys afterwards. This key wasn't meant to be used this way, but it worked because he also knew Joseph's wireless password. His girl's full name and his library number.

As Mark's loop began, Joseph felt as if he woke up, slowly, dizzy and in a haze. He felt as he laid on his couch, head back and listening. He heard the birds singing and knew it was still day time and as he started to awake, noticed he could not close his couch leg stand. He tried, but to no avail, even hard enough to close it.

Then he felt as he woke up again. It was strange, it behaved as a 'nightware loop' but he didn't care. This time he awoke on his bed, still trying to close the leg stand as hard as he could. He heard an evil taunt that said:

"Maybe you should care..."

and instantly knew something was off. He could care less. This was more expensive to those who ran the loop than to him. They would not be able to sustain it past a third time.

And just like that, he woke up again, he moved up and started 'fixing' an old xBox he had laying around. Just as he started a sudden charge hit his hand, and the xBox turned itself on. It behaved like a radio, and Alan Watts could be heard talking nonsense, which he never did unless he was joking. He placed everything down, and went back to sleep.

He woke up a few hours later, alone, turned off his loop and drank water. Now he knew everything was good. He could, if he wanted, live through that 'nightware' again, edit it and even sell it, or he could just choose to use it as fuel for a written story. He erased its chip and looked forward into seeing his girl and writing about this instead. He did care for her and didn't care about anyone else's business other than his own.

General Inspection

“Your mind is our neighborhood!” laughed down the alley some teenagers as Omar walked past them. He carried his groceries toward his apartment in a weekly basis and worked as an independent writer at home. He did travel to the city twice a week usually to the library and met friends at least a few times a year.

As he reached his street, many other people laughed past him while others smiled at his eyes. A street-medic botched his neural implant, and now most of his mood and even thoughts were public knowledge to those who dared to listen.

Some people knew nothing, but most did and made sure to let him feel their wish for him to go. Three years had gone by and he still went on. He lost everything, wealth, work and even romantic interests. People even made up crazy stories about his past and health.

Still, he knew better than to worry or feel guilty about it. As he reached his apartment he knew he had no privacy but did have loneliness. And through loneliness he wrote tech and poetry. He was sure in one way or the other she read and liked what he wrote, even though he would never see her again.