The stairwell was too quiet. It was starting to freak me out. Nothing but the sound of my breathing and the echoing sound my drone's rotors. In communication we learned about harmonics: how the echoes phase-shifted the rotor sound so it was a chorus of echoes ranging in pitch from 'waterfall' to 'power drill.' I was too keyed up- couldn't focus. I kept drifting back to thoughts of my classes and my bills and my drones and Showbiz.... God damn Showbiz.
From the first glint of that cheesy gold tooth, I should have known better.
Showbiz was a very special kind of Johnson. Showbiz had flair. If an ordinary Johnson needed to knock over a liquor store, he'd send a Street Sam with a shotgun and a hundred nuyen. Showbiz would send five Sams with flamethrowers and one with a videocamera. Showbiz had impact. Runners find fame in the lining of a bodybag- unless they work for Showbiz. I heard he sells tapes of his runners to news, corporate securities, SWAT... anybody who can owe him a favor and a