Getting to the Party

He ran the comb through his hair and looked into the rear view mirror, sleek mirror shades looking back microfine nanofibers running like veins over his face.

“Looking fine.” He said to himself, sitting back in the seat of his exclusive sports car, “Super-Fine.”

“We’ll be arriving at the venue in 30 seconds Mr Finnegan.” A feminine voice came out of the panel in front of him. He didn’t respond, instead, he checking through his HUD and activating a Japanese language and etiquette soft ware. Suddenly, somehow he could now speak Japanese and understand the social cues, a wonder of the neural processor wired throughout his brain and some remarkable software. He didn’t really care about that, though he did think about the margins that NeuralSkill was making on the technology. “Fuckers”

The car pulled up and the door opened, he stepped out, a lovely looking person dressed as a butler offered a hand to help him out of the car but he’d already got out.

“Thanks, I’ve got it.” He could see an assortment of heavily armoured security guards scattered about the place, not unexpected at an event liable to host some of the most influential corporate leaders and their proteges. “What a day to be alive.” He said, or something similar in his newly acquired Japanese, the butler smiled. Putting a toothpick in his mouth he grinned and swaggered confidently to the entrance. He knew full well he’d already been scanned by dozens of security systems and devices. The two young ladies wearing Kimonos he could have told you the exact page of the scram sheet they were on, they smiled appealingly and opened the door. He could have told you where they bought the faces too. He grinned.

“Mr Finnegan, welcome and please enjoy yourself.” They chimed in Japanese he nodded and responded with an “I’m back.”