Free Freedom Club by Saul Garnell

Shinzou surmise one thing. That living conditions in Phoenix had for the most part remained the same over the years. In some ways, that was good. But he still would never live there, or in any metropolis for that matter. It was, from his point of view, self imprisonment.
    “This is a public safety announcement,” warned an automated conductor. “All passengers must comply with any and all requests by security personnel. Your cooperation is appreciated.”
    Miffing under his breath, he wondered if those words had any relevance to the meeting he was about to have with Hugo. The thought was quite absurd, considering Shinzou’s unique interpretation and application of the word “cooperation.” Perhaps it would be some simple data audit. Wouldn’t that be funny? But with good reason, Shinzou suspected much more. They were healthy suspicions. And his first task would be to blend in and understand if his own past efforts were involved. In some respects, it was a dangerous game.
    Stepping from the maglev’s airlock onto the Phoenix Transport Hub’s marble floor, Shinzou looked around and breathed in air full of modern day aromas and perfumed nano-chemistry. Yes, sir, nothing had changed. That was certain. And visually? Huge extruded archways adorned unlaminated Byzantine dome ceilings, all joined together in an ornate collage of geometrical space that simulated an artificial sunset of cyan and magenta.
    Still, no matter how devoid of natural beauty, the hub lacked scrollers of any kind. Shinzou loved that fact. Appreciation of the hall’s grandeur and retro-futuristic design fell only to those like himself, who preferred raw space, unfettered by the slithering of intrusive images and advertisements.
    Something then caught his attention. Sniffing the air, he detected the scent of desert flowers and coffee. No, that had to be fake. Like birds attracted to the false azure sky, shops in the grand hall used designer fragrances to attract customers. But oh, God, did it smell good! How could anyone resist? Despising his own weakness, he bought a cup of something called Scott Laboratories 3267 Organic and sipped it with bemused enjoyment as he made his way downtown toward the governmental zone.
    Hugo’s office was on the sixty second floor of the Pan American Union Building at Van Buren and Third. It had been years since their last meeting at that very same location, and Shinzou considered his decision to meet face to face. Maybe Hugo wouldn’t appreciate it. But on second thought, so what? It was too late to turn back, and without further thought he went inside the building to register at the security front desk. Waiting for his scan cycle to complete, he looked on as his drink was placed in an ornate detector and subjected to various tests. They proved that every molecule within the paper cup was, beyond a doubt, just coffee. Upon its return, Shinzou frowned into the cup and was about to move on when he realized a small receptionist crawler was in the way.
    “Do you require assistance getting to your final destination?” it asked politely.
    “I’ve been here before,” Shinzou said, continuing toward the elevators.
    Though unescorted, Shinzou was quite aware that his every step was closely monitored. Understandably, he made a point of bringing very little with him. He certainly didn’t want his own electronics scanned. Still, he was no enemy. In fact, he preferred to consider himself one of the team in some strange way. Other thoughts, he reminded himself, were best stored away while inside Union territory.
    Entering the lift, he meandered through several more air locks before gaining final access. He found Hugo sitting quietly behind a secure wall of ceiling-mounted flexi screens. There were stacks of them which obscured his form, but Hugo’s outline gleaned through multi-folded translucent scaffolds.
    “Take a seat,” Hugo said, without diverting his concentration.
    A bit unfriendly, Hugo was obviously under pressure.