To her left the floor rose a meter to a stage that bore half a dozen dancers, each illuminated by colorful lights. Although they were perfectly humanoid in shape, they seemed to be composed of concentrated light. Various patterns on their bodies changed in cue with the music. One light-dancer was a vibrant fucshia with brilliant silver hair that glittered as she swung her head. Her body was infused with thin, dazzling lines of sparkling tinsel that trailed upwards along her curves, accenting every feature as she moved. Another’s skin was gridded with squares. One-by-one, the squares would spin, continually transforming the color of her skin. Atop the closest platform, a bold red “light-dancer” swung up and around a pole of light with a supernatural grace. Lena realized she could see through the dancer. They’re holograms, she thought.
Heavy clouds hung in the air. They obscured Lena’s vision more than the strobe lights. Threadlike beams pierced the clouds as they crisscrossed each other, creating geometric symbols and patterns. This was the last place she expected herself to be conducting business.
She turned to her right where a stairway continued up to a landing, then switched back to another set of stairs. This stairwell was all black walls with violet lights under each stair step. She was met at the next platform by a dark-haired woman leading a man by the hand. Both were dressed in clothing that accentuated their synthetic features. They both briefly made eye contact with Lena before moving around her, carefully minding their drinks.
At the top of the staircase she found a wide bridge that spanned the dancefloor below.
From atop the bridge, patrons could see the entirety of the club below. To the left was another dark hallway. She walked down this hallway, passing several colorful doors. Finally, Lena found herself standing at a dead end in front of a simple black door.
There was a screen built into it at eye level. On it, in red gleamed the name JAEL. She knocked and the screen spoke to her.
“Yes?”
She didn’t know where to direct her voice and felt stupid talking to a door. She leaned forward, unsure if she should speak normally into some hidden microphone or yell through the door.
“Uhhh...it’s Lena,” she said loudly. After a brief pause the door opened into the room.
When she got her first look at the man she assumed was Jael, Lena immediately felt that something in his face was unnatural, even for a blatant synth. It took her a moment, but she realized the peculiarity she sensed came from a face that had been edited for perfect symmetry. He was tall, over a whole head taller than her, with defined muscles that fit his dark shirt perfectly. He had a thin layer of stubble that mapped potential for a voluminous beard. His skin was olive colored from what the warm light within his office revealed. He greeted her with a wide, genuine smile before he stepped back from the doorway and extended his free hand into the room.
“Welcome!”
She gave him a reserved smile as she walked in.
He closed the door behind her and the noise from outside was cut in half. The room was warm but comfortable, and pleasnatly lit. Across from the entrance sat a window with the blinds open, revealing neon signs and rain. Directly to her right was an even larger window that looked out over the dance floor. Next to this window sat a black leather couch and two chair on either side of a glass coffee table. Above the couch was a painting of a radiant setting sun.
“It’s nice to meet you, Lena. I’m Jael.” He had a deep, friendly voice. “Can I get you something to drink?” He walked over to a minibar on the far wall and scooped a few cubes of ice into two tumblers.
“Water’s fine.”
He poured an amber liquid from a tall bottle into one glass and placed the second glass into a receptacle that filled it with
water and handed her the glass.
“So, what do you think?” Jael looked out the window overlooking the club below.
“Pretty impressive.” She didn’t know how else to respond. “How long have you had it?”
“I mean Zarmina,” he said proudly. “How’s it suiting you? He motioned to the couch and chairs. “Please.”
She sat in a chair.
“Oh, it’s...big.”
“Twenty years on a ship. I can’t imagine. Welcome, though.”
“Thanks,” she said with a reserved smile.
“Did you realize this is an all-synth club?”
Lena was caught off guard.
“No. Did I miss a sign?”
He flashed a smile, still standing at the window. “No no, humans are always welcome, but I only hire synths. Did you see the dancers? I made those.” He took a drink.
She smiled in response, unsure of what to say.
“I suppose they don’t take tips?”
“Bingo.” He turned from the window and faced her. “Less overhead. No time-off. People spend more money on drinks. I win twice.” He smiled again.