Improvisation

Content warning: This story contains drug references.

<<17:49 Current Alerts: None>>

Dewi sits with her back to the audience, listening intently to snippets of conversations as the audience find their seats. She reaches over to delicately adjust the pose of a shadow puppet, one of many standing ready to the left and right of the linen screen in front of her.

Her console, Madani, hums above her, running through the pre-performance holographic entertainment. Its hum is a sign of stress — not from the holograms, but from programs running on Madani’s secure, private side. Her hand-written, customised programs scan for corp-owned PADs, employee swipe passes, recording equipment smuggled past the door staff, anything that could permanently record her improvisation tonight. Nothing to worry about, so far.

The linen screen balloons slightly towards her as a door opens behind it, hidden from Dewi’s and the audience’s views. She smiles, knowing that means her family are settling themselves on the other side of the screen, ready to watch the shadows. This time, Dewi even invited a couple of runners she trusts, Teja and Ebbin, to watch the performance live.

Dewi stretches her neck and tries to relax her shoulders. She’d have liked more time to prepare, but little Iskandar was sick most of the week. Yesterday, she had enough time to meditate, but she still feels underprepared. Which big corp will she target tonight? She likes to make sure the old stories continue to resonate, drawing comparisons to current events and poking fun at corps. Recently, she compared GameNET’s newest release to the dice games of the Kauravas.

She considers again what she learnt on recent runs. BANGUN is certainly purchasing a lot of anti-riot and military equipment for an insurance company. Sure, BANGUN also does disaster relief, but you don’t need rocket launchers for that! LEO Construction and those creepy Ottos are always a good target for mockery — but she hasn’t run any HB servers in months. All her information is now public knowledge.

“BANGUN it is,” she decides.

She looks towards P. K., the gendèr player. The gendèr barung are probably the most complex instruments in the gamelan, but P. K. always makes it look easy. The gamelan orchestra has no conductor, but everyone takes their cues from P. K.. He nods to the drummer and the music starts. Dewi gracefully ends the holograms and switches Madani over to provide light for her performance. 

<<18:01 Current Alerts: None>>

Picking up the gunungan, a large piece of scenery, she notices a familiar, still slightly croaky voice: Iskander is singing along with the music! 

“He’s remembering gerong part pretty well,” she marvels, “for someone so young.”

A sudden pang of maternal guilt hits her: BANGUN are part of Weyland, after all. Dewi remembers the protesters in the floods last month, and the anguish on their faces as BANGUN fired into the crowd.

“Perhaps I should do one more run to confirm what’s going on with BANGUN? Before I make it public?” 

She hates to admit to herself that she’s become more cautious since Iskander was born. Is she doing a disservice to the audience, not telling them everything she knows? Maybe. But she can’t risk it, not right now.

“Well, who else is there? OSEAN and their precious new space elevator?”

OSEAN, as an international political union, won’t come after her like a corp. She sets aside any self-recrimination for later and focuses on the performance.

---

<<18:22 Current Alerts: None>>

“Have you seen the newest PAD, mama? The one Poëtri just announced? It gives your skin a perfect glow and hides all blemishes! I could keep it next to me when I go on dates,” gushes the lilac-coloured puppet, Limbuk. She towers over the tiny, bird-like figure of her mother, Cangik. 

A Cangik and Limbuk scene is welcome comic relief after the serious first act, and Dewi hears the audience relax in their seats.

“Nonsense, darling. You don’t need it! Your dates are only interested in your charming personality!” Cangik comforts Limbuk. 

But today, Dewi’s Limbuk cannot be comforted and wants to take an extra job at the Mahkota Langit to pay for a new PAD.

“Even if the locals call it Malang, it’s still new and shiny and a prestigious place to work, isn’t it mama?” Limbuk pleads. 

For Cangik’s replies, Dewi draws on stories her aunt told when she first started working at Malang. She was relatively senior, a gift shop and concession manager, but everyone was hilariously rude to her: Malang management; her boss; the customers. Then it dawned on her — she is the first natural working this role, all her predecessors were clones. It’s no problem to be rude to someone who has anger edited out of their DNA.

The audience murmurs in agreement, but doesn’t really laugh. 

“Probably better if they’re clones,” Dewi hears someone mutter softly in the audience.

“Safer,” the person next to them agrees.

“Remember Bakti?”

“I was just thinking about him. Poor bloke, all he wanted was a home that wasn’t a dingy habspace in the undercity.”

“Don’t we all? His roommates were on the Malang maintenance crew with him, weren’t they? They said the job was shitty but the pay was good.”

“They didn’t work as hard as him, tho’. They went out partying while he took extra shifts.”

“But he’s the one who came home blabbering nonsense.” The reply is quick, the tone bitter.

“Yeah … the longer his shift was, the worse he got.”

“Like he was on drugs. He’d get almost back to normal and then go work another shift.”

“His mates reckoned it was because he didn’t wear gloves, touched the walls with his bare hands. And then that month-long sprint just before Malang opened…” Dewi hears the person sigh quietly, “I hope he’s recovering, wherever he is. Cousin took him back to his village, yeah?”

“Right. But I doubt his mind can come back to normal after that.”

---

Dewi moves on to the second act, but her mind is spinning. “Touching the walls? Like drugs? What was that conversation about?”

Her thoughts turn to her aunt. “Does she touch the walls at Malang? She works retail, moves stock, cleans. How many times has she touched the walls doing that? Should I warn her?” She imagines Aunty Tiyana’s kindly face. “Warn her about what?”

“I just don’t know enough,” Dewi almost grimaces at the thought. She recognises it as the reason she first explored the grimy back corners of the electronics market, all those years ago. 

<<18:45 Current Alerts: None>>

By the end of the second act, Dewi has a plan. It’s daring, but she’s done a run during a performance once before. She signals P. K. to extend the music as long as possible. The pasindhèn also notices Dewi’s signal, and draws in a deep breath. Normally, Dewi would be exasperated at the diva’s tendency to show off. But now, it would serve as a showy distraction.

Dewi’s target is a Jinteki scientist’s server she first explored years ago. He was a relatively  senior scientist, but surprisingly terrible at opsec. She first came across him when he was doing insect research near her parents’ house. Everyone knows Malang’s walls are made of mycele, a silk-like substance, so maybe an entomologist has insights? “Only one quick run,“ she promises herself “I haven’t got time for more.”

She works through the nodes methodically, drawing closer to his server. 

“Wah, he’s got ice now!” She approaches the server nervously. “This won’t be as easy as last time.” Madani’s hum increases as Dewi moves program after program onto the quick-launch chip. Even the mathy, power-hungry program Skylar copied for her last time they met.

Dewi pauses to assess the ice. For her, each piece of ice and each server has their own unique music. This one sounds high-pitched and brassy, like a saron peking. Cute, almost? 

“Brace for pain,” she reminds herself, “It’s Jinteki.” Consciously relaxing her muscles, she feels the ice. “Sialan, I do need the new program!” She powers it up and waits. 

The new breaker vibrates like a rebab under the weight of complex calculations, but almost as soon as it starts, it finishes. That scratchy, breathy tone diminuendos, then goes silent. “What?” Dewi expected more. “That’s not normal, not normal at all. Is this a trap?” But still, she moves past it. Behind her, she hears a new sound replace it in the orchestra that is the Jinteki server, but whatever it is, it’s passive, waiting for the next person.

Gingerly, she enters the server. No pain, no trap. It looks much like before, only messier. Apparently, he still hasn’t learnt to file his messages, they are all just … there, in one big pile. Quick search: “mycele”. The hits are immediate and plentiful. Jinteki is obviously very proud of mycele, mentioning it constantly in all-staff messages, usually with phrases like “fast-tracked,” “agile,” “cutting red tape.” Dewi gets the impression mycele development was very rapid and Jinteki wants more products finished at that speed.

She pokes around his more scientific documents, finding a safety data file near the top of the hits:

– Limit exposure time to 3 hours
– Do not touch with exposed skin
[…]
– Symptoms of overexposure: hallucinogenic experiences, long term psychological deterioration

Dewi scans quickly to the bottom — the First Aid and Special Treatment sections are blank.

“They knew! The criminals!” Incensed, Dewi hastily closes the text file and signals P.K. She readies Cangik to march onto the screen. The music cuts, and Cangik stomps on stage, pouring out the warnings that Dewi plans to give to her aunt, telling Limbuk that mycele isn’t safe, it wasn’t tested enough, it shouldn’t be touched. 

“The whole Malang really is unlucky!”

At first, the audience is taken aback by Cangik’s intensity. But as Cangik emphasises the thousands of people already visiting the restaurants and viewing platforms in Malang every day, the audience’s attitude shifts towards anger.

Suddenly, singing starts again, and she shoots a furious glare at the diva pasindhèn for interrupting her performance, but the singer’s mouth is shut, silent. But if it’s not the singer that’s making that sound … the server! Dewi had completely forgotten she was still connected. She braces instinctively, hoping the pain won’t throw off her performance too much. No pain, but Dewi feels someone in the server with her. She prepares to surreptitiously disconnect, when the server speeds up again. 

Sysops? It doesn’t feel like sysops, she’s sure she’d have been booted by now … or worse. Runners? Dewi suddenly remembers she invited Teja. He is probably sitting behind the screen now, a metre from her. Has she ever mentioned the scientist to him? She flicks quietly to the local runner chat. Yes! He’d logged in a few minutes ago, asking for help raiding a Jinteki server.

Dewi quietly withdraws from the server, confident that Teja and friends will find anything she missed.

<<19:27 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Fajar Owens, Internal Security: 25m away>>
<<19:27 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Otong Budi, Internal Security: 25m away>>
<<19:28 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Kidlat Perez, Internal Security: 24m away>>
<<19:28 Current Alerts: Jinteki Device, Sec068, 24m away>>
<<19:28 Current Alerts: Jinteki Device, Sec481, 24m away>>
<<19:29 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Fajar Owens, Internal Security: 24m away>>
<<19:29 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Otong Budi, Internal Security: 23m away>>

Madani’s logs are scrolling fast.

“OUT! NOW! ALL OF YOU!” Dewi pm’s Teja via SecMes. The muffled movement behind the screen indicates he understands.

Cangik is now urging Limbuk to think of a plan — they can’t let this stand. Not with the health of the good citizens of Kota Kalimantan at stake!

The main door opens loudly, and three men troop in. The gamelan barely pauses and Dewi doesn’t miss a beat.

“Good evening, Tuan-tuan Jinteki! So kind of you to join us,” Cangik says, a hint of sarcasm in the old woman’s voice. Dewi hears the audience swivel around in their seats, craning to get a better view of the door.

“Are you here to tell us all about the amazing properties of mycele? How quickly the walls go up? How safe it is?” Cangik wheedles. 

Dewi composes her face into a neutral expression and turns to look at the audience behind her. Most people are staring at the door with unwelcoming eyes. The youngest of the three men is flushing; the other two are standing awkwardly behind him. Their eyes dart around the room, assessing the situation. They clearly aren’t trained in crowd control. Burly audience members are starting to get out of their seats, heading for the aisles.  

“Sorry to disturb the performance” the youngest says, after a long pause. Then he turns quickly and motions for the others to leave.

<<19:41 Current Alerts: Jinteki Entrance Pass Kidlat Perez, Internal Security: 5m away>>
<<19:41 Current Alerts: Jinteki Device, Sec068, 6m away>>

With deep relief, Dewi scrolls Madani’s logs as the Jinteki Internal Security Team moves further and further away.

---

Join us in Kota Kalimantan when Elevation releases on April 24th 2025!