Free The Lightcap by Dan Marshall Page B

it?  It struck Adam that alcohol could be considered the original Lightcap, but with dangerous side effects.
    A mixture of pungent smoke, warm beer, and the nasal-clearing licorice scent of absinthe greeted Adam down the street, before he saw the place or heard the murmurs of crowded conversation within.  He passed a man whose back was pressed against a wall, a small glass pipe filled with smoldering white fibers pressed against his lips.  He exhaled sharply through lips pressed tightly together, which made him resemble a steaming teapot.  The man’s eyelids drooped, his eyeballs rolling back into his head until there was nothing but white, and a dull smile spread on his face as his serotonin and dopamine levels skyrocketed.  He sagged against the wall in a stupor.
    Adam walked by and watched this man from the corner of his eye.  Junkies were notorious for being amateur pickpockets.  Adam recognized the smell of the junkie’s drug of choice: Cloud.  The substance had become more popular as its price dropped.  First synthesized thirteen years before, Cloud looked like cotton with a slight grey tint.  Cloud users could be identified by the distinct odor the drug left on their hands, a smell of burnt chemicals mixed with cinnamon.  The drug produced in its users a sensation of free fall, adrenaline and euphoria combining in a head rush lasting an hour or more, depending on dose.  For some, taking Cloud was a social activity like drinking, but there were many who couldn’t control the urge to use the drug frequently. 
    One thing Adam found interesting about Cloud was that reports indicated it seemed to affect the function of the domes, to the point that the small print in the Mind Drive v5 instruction manual specifically warned against the use of Cloud while operating the device.  As far as Adam knew, this marked the first time a user manual for an input device warned against using a specific drug.  Many brilliant minds were working on understanding the physiological mechanisms that hindered dome functionality among heavy Cloud users, but the prevailing theory was the drug had the side effect of weakening connections between neurons in the brain, making it harder for domes to get readings.
    He doesn’t really seem to care about not being able to use a dome.  They probably still put buttons on things because of people like him, thought Adam.  He couldn’t help but feel people such as this junkie were holding back society by creating undue drags on social services.  They just needed a bit more self-control.  Then again, most used vaporizers for Cloud, exhaling nothing more than a small puff of odorless smoke.  The junkie must not be able to afford one, as cheap as they were.  Adam felt a brief pang of sadness at this thought.
    A bouncer stood at the door of Hanley’s, face forward, arms crossed against his bulging chest.  The bouncer gave Adam a perfunctory once-over, then tilted his head back, providing a silent signal that Adam could enter.  The wooden door with its lone rounded window swung open and stopped against the wall with a hollow thunk , the din of the patrons inside seeming to double in volume as he stepped across the threshold.  From left to right he scanned the room, a large open space with screens mounted on nearly every available vertical surface, casting light made of flashes of color.  This place was made for consumption and excess.  Despite feeling very out of place, he couldn’t deny there was an almost palpable energy in the glowing room. 
    Groups of people stood in the packed bar so they could see as many screens as possible.  Adam found a table in the corner affording him a view of the vast room, and he attempted to send a drink order from his dome.  He immediately heard a minor tritone, along with a soft voice stating, “No command unit found for this establishment.”  It had been a long time since Adam had been to a bar that wasn’t Mind Drive compatible.  It had also