It was a remarkably clear morning in San Francisco, lacking the city’s signature fog or a cloud in the sky. In the city’s Castro neighborhood, people were already out and about, with a steady stream headed for the area’s main transit station up on Market. A few blocks off the main drag, along a line of small flats, a door opened to reveal a smartly dressed woman. She smiled up at the clear sky, brushing strands of her fire-red hair away from her green eyes. Closing the door behind her, she quickly descended the stairs leading up to the building.
“Good morning, Cassie!” came a voice from the woman’s right. Cassie turned and smiled at her neighbor, a middle-aged man who appeared to be returning from walking his dog.
“Good morning, Peter! Really beautiful morning today,” she said with a smile as she walked over to him.
She bent down to give the dog, a corgi, a good rub on the head before looking back up at him.
“How’s Alex?”
“Oh, he’s still off on that business trip. He’ll be back later tonight. We should get together tomorrow night for drinks! He can tell you all about it.”
“It’s a date! Give him my best when you see him,” Cassie replied with a smile as she resumed her walk toward the metro station. She pulled her phone and a small pair of headphones out of her purse, slipping the phones on and pressing play. The clack of her heels on the pavement soon subconsciously matched the beat of the music.
After turning onto Castro street and walking up toward Market, Cassie slipped into a coffee shop and took her place at the end of the line. She looked down and brushed at her vintage blue dress, then glanced at a television screen mounted on a nearby wall. It was currently showing a morning news program, with closed captions running along the bottom.
“... a proposal to build a so-called ‘Sanctuary District’ has been submitted to the city’s Board of Supervisors as an answer to the affordable housing crisis. While supporters argue this will provide much-needed subsidized housing for the city’s poor, there are concerns the design would segregate the district’s residents from the rest of the city. The cities of Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles have adopted similar plans in recent months. In internation news, the CIA has announced the capture of another Augment insurrectionist cell in Kabul...”
Cassie looked away from the television and at the pastries to her left. When it was finally her turn to order, she removed her headphones and smiled at the cashier, who grinned back.
“Large sweetened ice, as usual?”
“You know me too well, Eduardo,” Cassie replied.
After her order had been rung up and she’d paid, Cassie dropped her change into a nearby jar that read ‘Nerve Gas Victims Fund’. Eduardo gave her another smile.
“Thank you, as always.”
Cassie took her drink and simply smiled in return before leaving, resuming her walk to the metro station.
Some time later in the city’s Mission District, Cassie walked into one of the large skyscrapers that filled entire city blocks and composed the city’s ‘second skyline’. In the lobby, she walked under a large screen that displayed a large ‘Cryonics’ logo, followed by videos of sleeper ships launching into space. Cassie entered the first available elevator, taking it up to the building’s 22nd floor.
Cassie disembarked and entered a sterile white corridor. Turning to her left, she passed by laboratory after laboratory as she walked. She removed her headphones and tucked them in her person, nodding and smiling at her coworkers as she passed. Upon seeing a man in a business suit at the end of the hall, Cassie quickened her pace.
“Alan! Do you have a minute?”
The man turned and waited for her, saying nothing.
“Alan, I was hoping to talk with you about the latest reanimation media results. One of our preparations is showing better-than-expected results.”
Alan’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise.
“Really? That’s excellent news. Unfortunately, I have a meeting in a few minutes. Can I meet with you in two hours?”
Cassie nodded.
“Good. Oh, speaking of...”
Cassie looked over her shoulder at where Alan was looking and saw four people approaching them. There were three men and one woman, all dressed in some manner of suits. Cassie’s eyes were immediately drawn to the Native American on the far right because of the distinctive tattoo on the left side of his face. The woman in the group looked right at Alan and extended her hand.
“Good morning, Dr. Park. I’m Ms. Matoya,” she said crisply.
“Wonderful to meet you, Ms. Matoya.” He then gestured to Cassie. “This is Dr. Ryan, one of our researchers.”
Ms. Matoya smiled at Cassie. Cassie smiled back, but barely. Something about the woman’s smile, or perhaps her entourage, sent a chill down Cassie’s spine. Ms. Matoya, for her part, simply looked back at Alan.
“Shall we get down to business?”
Alan nodded and gestured back toward the elevator.
“Yes, let’s head up to my office. We can speak in private there.”
Cassie watched as they headed back down the way she had come. After a moment, she simply shrugged, shook the feeling out of her head, and entered one of the neighboring labs to begin her work for the day.
