Neurocyber 10: Spoken For: Neurocyber, #10

By Lee Shorter

You know where the crumbling front wall and door are all that remain of a once grand house in Pasetano Road… that house on the cliffs where the Ice Cream Blonde died a long, long time before The Events caused the flooding that covered the highway and inundated her famous Sidewalk Cafe below it? Well that's where Brass believes Clarke Maxwell will be set up for a fall down the cliff when he is hired to take a parcel to a meet.

 

Lieutenant Brass and his men will be on hand to save Clarke, or they will if Brass has accurate information. If he hasn't, can Clarke save himself? Buy Neurocyber 10: Spoken For and find out why Clarke is worried.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Budleigh Books
• Release date: Aug 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223308836

Book preview

Preface

Some say that civilisation was brought to an end by digital excess and smart communicators. Others blame the pollution caused by the manufacture and trashing of too many trainers. When Lieutenant Brass fell on scree and was nearly carried over the cliff edge to his death, he was wearing regular shoes. Would trainers have saved him without Clarke’s help? How could too many trainers have ended civilisation?

Go figure.

Spoken For

Isat in the reeking pod and was about to swing out on the seat when a thought struck me:

‘Lieutenant, I don’t want to make a thing of it, but I just saved your butt. I’m feeling completely bushed, I ruined my suit, and these purple, soft boots are scuffed beyond redemption. How about re-routing this pod for me?’

‘Where to?’

‘Could you drop me outside my apartment? I would walk, but... I’m not in a good place, mentally or geographically.’

‘No need to paint a picture,’ he growled.

I guessed that Brass felt I was sneering at him, but I had used the word bushed lightheartedly, out of an awareness that together we had escaped death. And I felt justified moaning about my ruined shoes. Credits for footwear can be built up over a longer interval than in most categories, but timing it right—using them before they get wiped and you are back to zero—is a pain.

I would have looked out my topcoat, if I had one. I didn’t have one because the nights were still sticky in the city. High up on the Palisades, scrambling to get to Posetano Road for the meet, up above the ocean, it would not be warm. And a topcoat has pockets to hide a big old gun. I fancied a raincoat like the guy in Lois’ film clip was wearing, with the big lapels