Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

43

RO MONTAGUE

The tower for the Eye-Lens corporation is so high that the spire ascends past the clouds. They aren't really clouds though, just low-hanging lines of smog and pollution from the chemical waste plants nearby. The company headquarters is on the far west side of the northern districts, where everything goes if you have enough credits to pay for it.

And Jack Paris has plenty.

"Watch your step." We exit the hovercraft stretch, the black-armored plating on the outside of the cars opening up like petals to the sun. Jack Paris could have me killed right now. Gunmen positioned on every roof, drones outside of view.

But he doesn't. Like a child playing a game, he wants to see it through.

We enter the building, the first-floor doors hissing open as the complex lock disengages. The doors seal, airtight, behind me.

There's no turning back now.

We snake through corridors, a rabbit's warren of white walls and blank tile. Guards come in to replace the ones I eliminated back on the train. They keep a respectful distance around me.

"Do you want me to kill you," I begin, "because you're too afraid to end it all yourself?"

Jack Paris smirks, refusing to answer. Instead, he steers the topic of conversation away. "You're awfully curious, aren't you?"

We finally reach a stretch of labs, sealed in clear glass. A few scientists and bots patrol the inner sanctum. Jack Paris presses his eye to one of the doors, his thumbprint to another.

The room's freezing, and I can see my breath as I exhale. Paris doesn't remark on it, so I choose not to either.

"Cryo-chambers." He informs me, not even looking my way.

On a metallic slab, there's Jules. Eyes shut, a mask over their mouth, sealed tightly over their lips. They're dressed in a silk-white hospital gown that covers most their body. Like snow over a gray-waxed tomb.

"Jules..." I rush towards their side, hold their hand in mine.

Their fingers are purple, and as I let go of their arm, it falls lifelessly to the table.

"Dead, practically," Jack Paris sighs. "My medical tech got them back to some semblance of living, a coma. But you might as well pull the plug. There's no brain activity."

"No..." I want to act out, to rage against it all, but there's nothing to do. Nothing to look at but Jules. So calm, almost sleeping.

"Yes," a hand descends on my shoulder, digging into my skin. "Just like Ichika."

I pull away, stunned. Processing more information than I can take at once. "How do you know my mother's name?"

Jack Paris grins, glancing at me with barely hidden disdain. "Oh, darling," he tilts my chin upwards to face him. "Because my uncle was the one to kill her."

***

Hey, it's Ro Montague here. Don't forget to vote and comment... or else.

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If death is sleep, then wake me.