THIRTY FIVE

‘Here he is! The main man!’

Garçon stood up as Johnny and Sarah entered the bar, hands spread like he was greeting a long lost brother. At the table were Goldsmith and Flynn, both looking sheepish as the melodrama continued.

Garçon snapped his fingers, calling a young Japanese waitress.

‘Get this man anything he wants,’ he proclaimed. ‘Anything!’

He glanced at Sarah, winked.

The waitress looked to Johnny.

‘Just a green tea,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘Sarah?’

‘I’ll have a coke.’

‘Nonsense!’ Garçon cut in. ‘Cancel that. Bring the man champagne.’ Another glance at Sarah, then, ‘In fact, let’s make it champagne for the table! Hell, for the whole bar!’

His words rang out, catching the attention of the tables nearby. There were a few murmurs of delight, applause trying to start then failing after a few half-assed claps. But Garçon didn’t notice or care. He was on a roll.

They were in a sushi bar over in Titanic, a place called Kimono. This was a high-end gaff, very different to the sushi counters on Tomb Street or Cathedral’s markets. Kimono echoed what you’d find in Tokyo’s Nihonbashi-Ningyocho district, a hybrid of restaurant and geisha house. If you wanted to make a statement in Lark city, Kimono was as good a place as any.

Garçon had told Sarah to find Johnny and bring him down here. They were celebrating the success of the new VR Jesus package, already a global hit. In its opening night, the VR had been accessed by millions. Over the next week, that changed to hundreds of millions. And it was everywhere, billboards by the dozen playing the latest Jesus exclusive, Larkians gathered around like star struck teenagers.

Jesus was all people were talking about.

He was on the Box more than the news – no less than thirty three channels dedicated to his holy name. Everyone was claiming him as their own, his brand attached to every charity, every cause, every paranoia, every political persuasion, every lifestyle choice (or lack of) and New Age cult that you could think of. It was like the second summer of love all over again, the Jesus VR engaging daily with an endless network of customers, wired to their every thought and desire.

Johnny pulled a chair up for Sarah before sitting down himself.

He noticed Goldsmith leering, Sarah dipping her eyes.

‘How does it feel to be a celebrity?’ he asked, turning his attention to Johnny.

Then pointed gleefully to a Box in the corner, embedded within the bamboo décor of the restaurant. Jesus was on reality extreme, yet another re-run of the launch night. The AI doll waved to the crowds as an older man knelt before him, donning a wiretap.

‘Celebrity’s a strong word,’ Johnny said. ‘I’m just the code guy. Garçon – er, Mr Garçon is the –’

‘Call me Philip,’ Garçon broke in. ‘No, I insist,’ he added, even though there were no objections. ‘Johnny, I’ve just been updating these two gentlemen on the latest: we’re in talks with corps from here to the US of Asia, all wanting a piece of the action. They want to launch Jesus action figures, Jesus shirts, a fricking Jesus reality show.’

Sarah sniggered, was met with a sharp look from Garçon.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘But a Jesus reality show? Seriously?’

The company man ignored her, turned back to Johnny, ‘There’s more,’ he said. ‘Much more. This is just the tip of the iceberg, Johnny boy. Like, this afternoon, I got a call from a guy looking to do a range of Jesus Life Plans!’

Johnny looked blankly at Garçon, then to the others. But nobody seemed any the wiser.

‘Life plans!’ Garçon repeated, ‘You know, like diets and exercise routines? Healthy living. Think about it, who better than our Jesus AI to launch an exciting range of fitness VR?!’

Johnny didn’t know what to say to that. In his mind, he could see the Jesus doll in front of a crowd of middle aged, overweight women, teaching aerobics.

Flynn offered Johnny a cigar, lit himself one when the code guy declined.

‘Hell of a thing,’ he quipped, waving the match in his hand. ‘Never seen a product hit the ground running like this. Guess it just caught the right tide, just like Garçon said all along.’

The waitress brought the drinks, Johnny shrinking as the champagne was set in front of him. He’d been trying to lay off the booze since the launch but it was proving more difficult than he imagined. It looked so innocent; this clear sparkling liquid in its elegant glass.

Sarah was looking at him, concern in her eyes.

Across the bar, Johnny noticed a few others looking over, none of whom he recognised. One of them, a middle-aged woman wearing an oversized pink tank top and bouffant hair, ambled over.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ she said, ‘but are you Johnny Lyon? The code guy behind Jesus?’

Garçon winked at Johnny.

‘That’s our boy alright,’ he beamed.

The woman seemed elated.

‘Would you mind if I got my pic taken with you?’

Johnny looked to Sarah, shrugged.

‘I guess not.’

Garçon took her cell, aimed the lens as the elated woman bent down beside Johnny.

Within moments there was a small crowd gathering, Johnny having to pose while they each got their pic taken, Garçon still on camera duty. When they left, syncing the pics to each other as they went, giggling like kids, Johnny shook his head, face glowing.

He sat back down, shared a look with Sarah.

‘That was weird,’ he said.

‘Better get used to it!’ Garçon laughed. ‘There’ll be more where that came from. I’ve had Sarah line up some press for us. We’ve got the exclusive interview with Kal and Val to start with, then –’

‘Wait a minute. The what?!’

Johnny glared at Sarah.

‘Sorry,’ she mouthed.

Garçon looked to the money men, laughing as if Johnny were a child who’d said something amusing.

‘An exclusive interview!’ he proclaimed. ‘Tomorrow night on reality extreme. Didn’t Sarah tell you?’

‘I was waiting for the right moment,’ she offered sheepishly.

‘Oh dear God,’ Johnny said.

On the Box, the Jesus doll still waved.

Johnny lifted his champagne glass, tipped it to the screen then downed it in one swift movement.

‘Think I’ll be needing a few more of these,’ he said.