Untitled Document

The jungle trance seeped into my senses, gently, quietly, yet with a power behind it. Powerful music hidden in pop wrapping.

I did a little checking. Seems Higher Implications is a wonder band. Their single got played on some holovision sitcom, which the radios picked up. Few hundred times after the masses have been subjected to its repeated airplay and boom, Higher Implications is an underground success. A few hundred regulars started traveling with the band club to club, hypnotized by the siren's song.

I was no better. If my friends, who are few and far between, could see me now, they would shit. I was in a kneeling position, head bent in an act of devotion. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Higher Implications hit me like a ton of bricks I should say. I sat in my apartment, surrounded on all sides by images of Jenna and her band mates, Kirk Duncan, Randy Matthews, and Daphine Alberts, the guitarist, keyboardist, and drummer respectively. Thousands of stills and animated holo images spiraled around my meager living space, and I basked in them all. Their glory. Her glory.

It was Jenna I was fixated on. She had touched me. Somewhere deep, her two hands had caressed me, awakening something I had long thought dead or beaten out of me. Her face cycled through the mix the most; her reddish brown hair framing her simple and beautiful face.

Then I woke up. I can't explain it anymore then I'm used to images of anger and injustice in my mind, not feelings of love and engravings of happiness. I plan people's death; I concoct evil ways to destroy a man, all due to boredom. A girl smiles at me and I'm ready to call in an air strike on the entire city block. It was the instant I realized my normal thoughts were missing that I woke up. Or broke free, I should say.

Jenna Hallowine hit me like a ton of bricks. I just wonder if she knew it.

*ihateithere*

METROPOLITAN: DCFS
'Higher Implications pt 2 (of 3)'
Written by: Alex 'BioHaz' Cook
Edited by: Matthew 'Hawkeye' Pierce

*ihateithere*

The bike was all she had, and she knew it. All she really cared for that is. In her mind, it was the things that you cared for that you could truly claim ownership of. She didn't care for her drums nearly as much as her bike.

Daphine was riding hard, blowing off steam after the concert. Jenna had wanted to talk, but they all wanted to celebrate more. Jenna had finally given in, and they all drowned part of the night away. About an hour ago most of them parted ways, the boys heading to their new girlfriends beds, Jenna home alone, and Daphine on her bike. It all ended normally, but this time on a much happier note.

The night ended on a much worse note in the end however. Daphine never saw the car coming. She didn't even see the road it had come barreling off of. Her hoverbike was hit, its gyros spinning out of control. She had little chance of surviving once the car flipped as well, landing on top of her, the bike wedged between her and the ground.

Daphine Alberts was dead seconds before a long leather boot stepped on top of the car, the owner being an ebony skinned woman with short dread locks who peered deeply into the crash. The metal piercing in her face picked up the fire of the chemical tanks used to create the hover effect. Her smile was full of razor teeth while she watched the tanks ignite, bathing her and Daphine, as well as everything else in a two hundred-foot radius with napalm like blaze. The blast was quick yet devastating, the land around the accident scorched beyond recognition.

Almost as if someone were covering their tracks, I thought as my camera continued to canvass the area, snapping away digital images for later inspection. I swear a journalist is half a detective and half a poet. Shakespeare I am not, and Batman could beat my ass, but I do okay. This was way out of my league though. A dead-end. And a dead band member.

*ihateithere*

"She isn't dead." Jenna whispered, too shocked to say much else. Her mind hadn't quite clicked with the fact Daphine was dead.

They weren't the best of friends, but they still had a bond none the less. More of a friendship then Daphine had with anyone else. Add to it the fact that the band had finally made it, then this happened, and you could see why this was too much to handle for Jenna right now.

"She very much is. And we're short a drummer." Kirk finally said, softly, as if his words offered no room for rebuttal.

"I know." Jenna sighed. She had known now for a week, Kirk and Randy had been auditioning a few the past two days, but Jenna just couldn't do it. She couldn't participate in the screening process yet.

The phone companies long ago decided they would time every important call to ever happen in someone's life to ring at the worst time possible.

RING RING

Jenna groaned as she reached for the phone, Kirk's head perking up a little to see who it was. Never knew when some hot babe would call.

The MONDEX Music logo sprung onto the view screen, Jenna's eyes growing as the image of New Talent Development Head Chester Malcolm faded into view.

"Jenna Hallowine, Chester Malcolm, pleasure to meet you. Let me get down to business. A talent scout was at your concert last week and has been trying to fastball you onto my desk ever since. Well, once I heard the tape, and then found out about your recent loss, I had to call. MONDEX is willing to make a generous offer in hopes of persuading you over to our side. How does five hundred thousand dollars sound for the initial record, as well as a fifty percent increase each successful record after that? We're willing to work with you, so please, talk to me here."

Chester stopped talking finally, Jenna, Kirk and Randy starring dumbfounded at the holoscreen.

"I think", Chester's somewhat old and rugged lips grimaced as he broke into their silence, "I've called at a bad time. Please think about the offer, and look over the papers I've had messengered over." Malcolm briefly glanced off screen, "Which should be there--"

KNOCK KNOCK

"--now. Good day Jenna." Chester finished, fading from view as Kirk stood to answer the door. He threw the envelope next to the one Hazardous Sounds had delivered not an hour before. Other companies had called, but these two were the only ones who had actually produced a contract. The week had been strange indeed.

"We have a hard choice in front of us. I need a break, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Let's get out of here, and meet up tomorrow, same time, to finish this." Kirk said, again standing and reaching for his coat as he walked to the door. "Some of us still need time to mourn." he finished, looking over at the still Jenna, staring at both envelopes on her kitchen table.

*ihateithere*

I sat there, staring at the two empty shot glasses in front of me. It was a little surprising to find out me and Fred had something in common.

Fred Christ was a band manager I knew. Sniveling little man, but still valuable for information from the underground. When I came asking about Higher Implications he started spouting off about Jenna's virtues and the band's greatness. Chalk one more victim up to the hypnotizing effect Higher Implications had on an audience. I was starting to sense a column coming on, involving conditioning via music and brainwashing melodies. The column I ended up writing was much different in the end.

"She plays those two turntables like a god, Spider! A fucking God!" Christ continued to say, for the third time this conversation I noted. Little minds are easier to effect, I ventured.

"So what's the what on them Fred? Heard anything good?" I asked, fishing for whatever tidbits I could from this washed up reject.

"Well, seems MONDEX and Hazardous Sounds have both made generous offers to fast track the band onto their label. And these are lucrative contracts, Spider. Video airplay, major single distribution, the works! Shit bands dream of getting in their pubescent fantasies. All a week after their second major performance. Higher Implications has only been playing live for a month now." Fred replied, teasing me a little I could tell.

"A month? What about the sitcom using their music for the title sequence?" I asked.

"The shows only been online for three weeks now. It's had some major hits, rating it in the top ten, but its still a newbie. The band has gained recognition from the show, buts it's their live performance that sways people to their side."

"MONDEX. They sound familiar. Didn't that one singer who shot himself belong to them?"

"Yeah. Corbin something. Grunge influenced pop artist that was using VR to reach his audiences. MONDEX picked him up fast. Played a few dates, then found with a self inflicted shotgun wound in his head one morning in Seattle."

"Hazardous Sounds are relatively new aren't they? I've heard some not so nice things from that camp as well," I reasoned, remembering certain AP Wire feeds coming over the web in the last year.

"Yeah, so it really comes down to the lesser of two evils," Christ replied, taking another shot after filling my glass as well.

"So which is worse," I asked, "the one who pays more? Or the one who pays less?"

*ihateithere*

"MONDEX pays more! I think this is an easy decision Jenna!" Randy said, rising his voice slightly with each word. They had been going at this all night. It was a week and half since each offer had come in, and still they were no closer to an answer.

"But we all know what happens to MONDEX bands Randy." Kirk threw in, sitting calmly at the table while watching Jenna pace the kitchen.

"I need some air." Jenna finally said, tired of arguing over this. She never thought deciding which record contract to sign would cause so many damnable problems.

The air was fresh, oxygen recyclers hung from the corners of each skyscraper in the City, pumping out a ton of clean air every hour. Jenna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, contemplating the fork in the road before her.

"I've found the most tempting offer is usually the correct one." A woman's voice suddenly said, breaking Jenna from her reprieve.

"Who's there?" Jenna asked, spinning around to find the source of the voice.

A leather clad lady of fine form walked around the corner, Jenna immediately noticing the piercing in her face. "Leatherette is my name dear, and I'm here on behalf of some friends to help you with this difficult decision," she answered, shifting her weight from her right to left foot as she spoke.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Jenna nearly shouted, catching herself at the last second.

"I just dropped by Jenna. Our mutual friend gave me a call, to see if there was anything I could do help," Leatherette answered, shrugging her shoulders, fake sincerity dripping from her words.

"Mutual friend? And that would be?"

"He doesn't wish to be revealed quite yet, but lets just say my services don't come cheap. The larger of the two checks being thrown your way is probably signed by the same person." Leatherette smiled. "Who sent me isn't important in the end however. Your decision is." The smile died.

"We're thinking about it now," Jenna stammered, backing away from the leather clad new comer.

"I'm sure you are dear. All I want you to know is there are consequences on either side of the coin. New friends," at which point Leatherette extended her gloved hand toward Jenna," or new enemies." Leatherette flexed her hand slightly, four blades springing from the tip of her fingers, again pointing directly at Jenna.

"Are we clear?"

"Very," Jenna answered, sweat rolling down her face slightly.

*ihateithere*

This is the third time in as many weeks I've seen Higher Implications. While I understand there is some hypnotizing effect at play here, I can't help myself. Especially with their return concert, showcasing the new drummer.

The music started to have its effect on me, feelings of love and devotion washing over me. It's almost as if as soon as I realized I was enraptured, I broke free. Not many of the other patrons had the same ability it seemed. I guess being pissed off twenty-four seven has its benefits.

They were still amazing. Drummer and side effects aside, their music was brilliant. I was in heaven each time I listened to its striking melody; each time I dissected its words for new meanings. Then I realized its implications. Was it something the band did through technological means? Was it a metahuman ability one or more of the band members had? Was it something more then that, from the other side of the extreme? Did any of them know?

There was no doubt, she had a God-given gift. A God-given gift I was blessed to hear. A gift that caused individuals who heard it to be swayed to its owners side. A God-given gift. Or a God-given curse?

"You have no idea how right you are boy." A one eyed man sitting next to me drinking a Wolf's Head beer said suddenly, breaking my line of thought.

Things just got interesting, I noticed, as Jenna went into her solo, punching it up extra high tonight.

*ihateithere*


NEXT ISSUE: Higher Implications makes a decision, while Jenna makes an even tougher choice. Spider gets a hold of some interesting files after he talks with a paranoid old man with delusions of grandeur. Or were they delusions?

*ihateithere*

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