Eicha stepped into the techno club, the rhymatic pumping of the bass shook her from the top of her head to the end of her toes, the booming drums and electronic rhythms were deafening, almost disorientating to her. The club was packed with ravers and dancers, everywhere she looked people were hooked into The Network, pumping up on slappers or knocking back pills and drinks as they tried to absorb the club, music and scene in new ways. Eicha moved through the crowds, her head still pounding, her vision continued to be erratic, switching from blurred to hazy as often as it ws clear. The club was on the far end of the city, Eicha had jumped a motorcycle from a underground parking garage, a simple hotwiring trick she'd learned on her summer job of breaking and entering. The drive over had been difficult at best, her deteriorating condition had caused a few near misses. It wasn't something she was planning on repeating in the near future if she could help it. No, she needed a place to hold up, to rest and there was somebody in the club who could help her. Eicha crossed the dancefloor, several times taking a swipe from a dancer's flailing hand or foot. She zeroed her prey in one corner, sitting by himself at a gothic style chair. Jax was an african, or maybe carribean, she had never really enquired to his background, he had a mixture of flavours, his hair was clearly a deritive of rasterfaren styles, but his clothing was smart, almost corporate designer chique. Jax was a fixer, an expert at acquiring that which was not normally available. His clients were almost exclusively high level corporate, the people who could pay for something special, something forbidden to normals, be it drugs, technology or other humans. She'd know Jax for a number of years, they had cultivated a relationship through his need for information for his clients, and her need for information from them. She didn't really trust him, his loyalties to his clients had never been fully explored in their time together, but he helped her and she helped him, it was a mutual understanding not to enquire too deeply into their affliations with either side of society's wall. Above all, Jax respected money, and Eicha had enough that if things got sticky, he'd keep quiet for her. Eicha sat down opposite Jax, her body slid into the metallic chair, conforming effortlessly to it's contours and textures. She was grateful to just be sitting down. Jax glanced across, for a brief moment his face flashed surprise, concern for the obvious condition Eicha was in, but he quickly composed himself again so as not to alert anybody who may be watching them. "Jax, I need to go somewhere safe for a while." Jax reached for his drink as he replied. "You look like shit, NeuroPharm Inc has put out a level 4 internal security alert out on you." "What does that mean?" "It means there's a good $100,000 bounty on your head." Eicha smiled to herself. "Is that all? I'll have to annoy them more." Jax sipped his drink as his eyes stared intently at her. "What's wrong?" "I'm not sure, I got ICE'd, managed to unplug myself, but my head is getting worse, pounding." "Eyesight?" he kept staring at her, but his body language was relaxed, his posture unchanged, he continued to sip his drink periodically. "Shaky, keeps going blurry." "Could be some residual activity from the ICE, you need somewhere to crash?" Eicha nodded. "Okay, let's go then, I don't think you should be in this sort of environment." Jax climbed to his feet, and placed his now empty glass onto the table. Eicha stood up and followed his lead out of the club. --- Well I didn't quite know what to do for this update, a whole club scene was out of the question so I've tried to summarise the main scenes in the passage. Comments welcome as always and I hope somebody is still reading the story...:-) RA Graphics motorcyle used here, along with various Uzilite clothing, Daz textures, RDNA gothic bar and of course, Moebius87's Dystopia with Ajax's conversion to Poser product being used.