Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

11

RO MONTAGUE

"Cool it, Lawrence." Officer Mercy steps in front of me. "I don't know what kind of weird orgies you're holding in this place, but Ro isn't going to have any part of it."

Blushing furiously, I sidestep quickly so I'm still face-to-face with Lawrence Fry, despite Mercy's best, misguided efforts. "Look, I only came here to buy a ticket to the Capulet's lottery masquerade event. I don't want whatever else you're selling. I already deal plenty, thank you." I pause, taking in the almost sacred air about the monitor screens, the blank faces of worship on the other hackers' faces. "You are hackers still, aren't you?"

"Crazy holy hackers..." Benny mumbles, before getting elbowed by Mercy.

"I want what you want. Peace between the families of Capulet and Montague." Lawrence begins, and I can't help but be distracted by his eyes. They're a bright purple, like he hasn't seen the sun in ages. And the third camera lens, I shudder at it. I can feel it watching me. Probing my soul.

"Who said I want peace?" I puff out my chest at that one, prominently displaying my bio-tech weapons. Mercy discreetly shows the Monty "M" tattoo inked into her collarbone. Benny does the same, though he required more cajoling and, at some points, threatening, to buy his allegiance. "I was born in blood." I reply, challenging this strange, pacifist monk-hacker.

"The sectors of north and south in New Verona are descending into chaos. The Southerners who aren't conveniently marked with an "M" like yourselves are beating the North. The Northerners are murdering any from the South who wander their way. And, at the head of it all, Eye-Lens Corporation. They encourage the bloodshed, so people are blind to who the true enemy is." Lawrence spits this last part out. His skin used to be a healthier, chestnut complexion, but now it's dulled down to the color of bruising from never leaving this place. "Jack Paris claimed he made the Eye-Lens, well he's wrong. I was the one who invented it, a piece of technology meant to make superhuman." Lawrence points to the camera-bot implanted in his skull. "This was the true purpose of it. Not a convenient database for your eyes, a cheap toy for sensory pleasure and distraction. It was meant to take it one step further. To fuse the mind with the third realm."

I look uncertainly about me, the glazed eyes, all staring at the binary code strings. "Fuse the mind with the technological world?"

"Beyond that." Lawrence whispers. "The universe made the Earth. The Earth, with stardust from the universe, made humanity. Humanity, with parts from the Earth, made technology. And technology, with humanity as its vessel, shall bring us the next stage."

"Okay," I exhale shakily. The guy's a loon, but that doesn't mean he can't still be useful. "You want me getting all friendly with the Capulets because—?"

"Jack Paris is perverting the true purpose of my invention. Bending technology to the will of man and his money. He uses humans, too, like he does tech. He pits Capulets and Montagues against one another. Rich and poor. The chief of police, too, Emir Prince, is under his persuasion. You must take that power, of war, from him. It makes people do foolish things and allows others to hide behind the façade of chaos in order to do worse."

Are all holy men mad, or are all madmen holy?

"I can't follow your request. I don't even know you." I reach for my gun, almost reflexively, even as I sense this man won't harm me. Not unless I spat on his binary code.

He deflates and sighs, rubbing his gray-black knuckles against his eyes. "You are young. You do not see benefits of peace when your blood pumps so hotly with war and glory. So, instead, I'll tell you this." He makes a quick gesture in front of my Eye-Lens, and the image of Rosaiah comes up. Handsome as the day I met him, and twice as cruel. "The real reason you're sneaking into the masquerade is to track down this Mr. Rosaline. Revenge, as you put it. I would not sell him a ticket if I didn't believe it had value. But I saw it, the pattern in the code."

I look at the Eye-Lens projection and those deep-set eyes, the boyish curls. I find myself petrified by anger, shame, and a surge of adrenaline. "What kind of pattern are you talking about? All I see are numbers."

"Call it a mere chance pattern in the code, or call it fate. But something told me that, if I promised that brothel-owner a ticket, somebody, the hero I've waited for, would follow. One who would help me bring order to the chaos." Lawrence walks slowly on a bad, limping knee. And, eventually, he hunches over to one of the monitors. He taps in a sigil pattern, and the code parts like water beneath his fingertips. Another Eye-Lens projection, a ticket bearing my face and another name. ROSE EMMA. "Here is your ticket to the Capulet masquerade. I'd say to go in disguise, but you're always in hiding anyways. Aren't you?" The camera in his head whirs and clicks, and with a shift of gears in the walls, the crawlspace opens out into sunlight. It's blinding, after staring at these dim screens for so long. "They say you're star-crossed, Ro Montague."

I grin, filing credits into his account. He takes them, but hardly reacts at the generous sum I donate. "Then don't cross me." I reply.