Memoirs of an English Major

“Replicants are like any other machine. They’re either a benefit or a hazard. If they’re a benefit, it’s not my problem.” - Deckard

   I’ve always been a huge fan of cyberpunk and figured it was about time I began working on a cyberpunk story. I’m quite sure where it’s going to exactly go, but I do know I want to make it very dark, noir, gritty, and tech. It’s heavily inspired by Bladerunner, Snow Crash, and Gene Hunt. It’s a strange combination, but that’s where I’m getting my inspiration. I will soon return to my other stories, but for now, here’s what I have so far. It’s extremely rough and very short, but I am planning of working on it all week. Anyway, here it is.

“Is something the matter, DC?”

   Deloris was always worried right before the day. I swear, that chick would fuss every god damn time. She was a good kid, but can’t let you’re secretary call the shots.

“It’s alright, babe. Just thinking, that’s all”

   I’ve been doing allot of that lately. Never a clear moment in the head. It’s a bitch and half to keep up with the perps these days. In the old days, all you needed was a stiff drink, a pistol, and some wits about you. Now with the son’s of bitches packing thermo-camo, plasma cannons, and sub-links, these bastard can take you out before you even have a chance. The cops ain’t much help either, what with their insane budget cuts. But, then again, I’d be out of a job if people gave two shits about this world.

“Deloris, would you be a dear and get me some whisky on the rock?”

“Sure thing DC,” Deloris responded.

  DC. I wonder if my parents ever thought of all the nick names I’d get with a name like Drake Conrad McKalister. DC, The District, and any variation you can think of. At least it makes for a good slogan : “Detective DC McKalister - When the chips are down, Let The District take care of it.”

“You’re a doll Deloris.” She really was. I have no idea why this cute was even working for a old timer like me. Hell, in this day and age, she could be making a shit ton more money than I could ever pay her. With her good looks, killer comp skills, and that passion, she’s a real keeper. I’m lucky to have her on the team.

“Here you go sir,” Deloris stated, handing me the drink. “So, DC, any luck on the cortex?”

Always work with that girl.

“Give me a sec to jack in why don’t ya. For Christ’s sake, can’t a guy have his morning whiskey in peace?”

The cortex was pretty much the place to find anything and everything. I’ve been in the thing since I was a kid and pretty much was around from it’s beginnings. Heck, I remember the days when you actually had to type to find what you were looking for and use archaic things like passwords. These days what with retinal scans and mind-maps, pretty much your body is your ID. It’s amazing where tech gets you in a matter of 30 years.

Now , to business. Need to find a case. Let’s see… lost dog, stolen identity, hacked bank account, ah here we are, hack and sack. My favorite. It’s such an easy case to solve and pays well. Most of the time it’s some punk kid who thinks he covered his tracks when he hacked into that local store’s credit comp. But since these kids are pretty much amateurs, they get a bit cocky and forget the basics. Sure, it’s a simple case, but it pays well and doesn’t expose yourself to anything too serious. You know, the stuff a fellow gets shot over. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have taken that case. I’d stayed in bed, got shit drunk the next night, crash out and repeat. It’s amazing what foresight can do…