It was another bright, shining day in Voracity. Most of it's residents were bustling, traveling and participating in any number of public events and gatherings, going to school or university, creating art and consuming entertainment, simply enjoying each other's company, and breeding. Kitiona, however, was lying in his bed, naked and alone with the curtains drawn. His wall display was playing news, as it always did.

The program was currently describing how it was another bright, shining day in Voracity. They would then go on about all the events and gatherings going on today and in the near future. They would discuss the newest scientific discoveries and new gadgets, discuss art installations and new entertainment media, films, tv shows, videogames. The program also included discussion on intimate, adult oriented gatherings.

None of it was of interest to Kit. He was a journalist himself, though he was seriously considering a change of career. Journalism had always been his passion since he was a kid. With the new, burgeoning society, an individual's voice was so much louder than it could ever have been in the old world, and journalists were among the loudest. His parents always fought for justice on Voracia, and more often than not, they won out through protests and strikes and enacted real change. Kit had also seen success, shining a light on the injustices left over from Old Earth that had deep roots in the new world.

But every time a significant flaw in Voracian society was found and presented, a solution was formed in short order, often by the Benefactors. The world was becoming the perfect paradise even more every day. It was terrible. Not a single gun death in years. The last serial killer was decades ago. Kit sometimes daydreamed about hearing of a mass shooting through his security scanner. He felt jealous of the days when violent, fatal traffic accidents were a dime-a-dozen, whatever that meant.

He wasn't going to be getting any more sleep, and he knew it. Kit felt sick from dehydration. His mouth was dry, and he could feel a headache coming on. His body was threatening to start bruising, and flopping around on the mattress wasn't exactly helping. He didn't want to watch any sports, historical or live. He didn't want to play any videogames, no matter how terrifying or violent. He didn't want to get his dick wet, or have a nice meal, or even just sit in the park for some peace and quiet. Kit was in the throes of a deep depression. All he wanted to do was continue lying in bed. Unfortunately, his body didn't.

Rolling himself around the mattress, Kit finally found the edge and let gravity get him half-way to standing. He stumbled over his clothes on his way to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. As he passed the display on the wall, he saw an ad for a nightclub, and when he saw the drinks in their hands, he decided it was about time to get some alcohol. He wasn't unaccustomed to having some beers in the evening after a rough day of staring at a blank text editor, but now he just wanted to see how drunk he could possibly get, which was a first for him.

He took in a glass of water and began getting dressed when the 'new messages' notification caught his attention. Not that he had just received one. The notification was almost always on in his vision with thousands of unread messages in his back log. He wasn't sure why, but he decided to open up his messages in lieu of doing anything else while putting his clothes on.

It was filled with exactly what he expected. Networking invitations, press release blasts, promotions, events, subscriptions, and, of course, the spam. Whenever he would check his messages, it would become a game of how quickly he could delete individual messages, but he stopped when one caught his attention.

Jumpstart Your Journey With Juicy Java!

Wake up with our new Gen 12 light roast, or come get our classic Java-Voracia Hybrid! And remember, it doesn't have to be daytime to try our Nightbloom Frappe!

Kit chuckled to himself. He wasn't quite sure if there was a hidden message. He couldn't be bothered to do the whole encryption thing. Every time he opened the app, he'd have to update it and he was pretty sure he fucked up some install files last time. But Juicy Java sounded as good as anything, and if there was a human working, he was pretty sure he could get them to spike his drink anyway.

Once he was dressed, he popped on his favorite black coat, gave his mustache a brief combing and touched up his hair, then put on a pair of bold, dark sunglasses. He could have had his BSI auto-tint his vision, but he was a big fan of the style. His door automatically unlocked, opened, closed, and locked again as he walked through. While he was a generally healthy person and often preferred using the stairs, even from 10 floors up, he opted to use the elevator today. He was also generally a fan of walking, especially since the nearest Juicy Java was within a mile, but again, he was in no mood to be getting his steps in, so he hailed the nearest automated cab and had it drive him only a few minutes through the city to the shop. At least this way he would have to look at or interact with as few people as possible.

Upon arrival of the Juicy Java, he took his time to climb out of the vehicle and stretch with a dissatisfied grunt. There wasn't a line, so Kit sauntered up to the ordering window where an actual human was standing to take his order.

"Hello sir! Welcome to Juicy Java!" The woman said. "How can I help you today?"

"Could I get one of those Nightblooms with a little kick in it?"

"Sure thing! One Nightbloom cocktail coming right up!"

In the corner of his vision, Kit saw a few credits subtracted from his bank. He paid it no mind. He never had issues staying within the basic assistance budget, preferring to live in a small cozy apartment and didn't often care to splurge on extravagant food or entertainment. That, combined with the decent pay he had received from decades of journalism work, meant he had accrued a hefty amount into his savings. Maybe, he thought, if he lived much closer to the limit of his means, he might be more driven to write some of the boring stories.

Leaning against the kiosk wall while he waited for his order, Kit noticed a display below the Juicy Java sign out front. Where it usually advertised the new drinks available, he saw a message that caught his attention.

"Even paradise can't suppress your instincts. Follow your gut to find a mystery and keep your sanity, or maybe lose it."

It was an interesting message. Not exactly the kind that was expected for a drink kiosk. Next to the sign, there was a crosswalk across the intersection. The light of the crosswalk was switching from walk to stop, and the tiles that stretched across the road were lighting up in perfect time with the vehicles moving through the intersection. Kit rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what it was, and who was doing it.

When his drink order was finished, Kit moved to the intersection, but instead of going when the crosswalk would change sporadically, he waited for the lights to change proper, and for the lethally ballistic vehicles to come to a complete stop before he walked across the street. It now became a game of searching for signs. There were digital displays everywhere, so it wasn't too hard to find an arrow or a direction in a display glitch. Every time he went through this process, Kit wondered why they couldn't just send him directions directly through his BSI. It was pretty fun though, he had to admit.

The signs sent him down the road, through an alley, and then up a flight of stairs, and then back down into a maintenance tunnel. He came to a locked door, and as he approached it, the lock disengaged and the door slid open, leading to a large underground cable junction control room. It was pretty well maintained for being an underground, rarely used area, and even had some seats that looked like they still had a few years left in them. He took a seat when he didn't see any other signs in the room. Kit sighed as he sat down and removed his sunglasses.

"Alright," he said into the room. "What have you got?"

"You're not even going to say hello?" A feminine voice replied from the walkway across the room and a floor above him. A young woman stepped up to the railing with a gentle smile. Her red eyes and matching hair seemed to glow in the darkness as she looked at him. "Haven't you missed me?"

"Maybe I'd see you more if you were easier to find," Kit said. The girl gradually made her way down the metal stairs to meet Kit face to face.

"Well, you know me, I like to play hard to get."

"Sure, you are." Kit laughed. "Thing is, I'm not one of the ones trying to get you."

"Oh? Well, that's a shame!" The girl said. "You can have me any time, you know..."

"I'm afraid you're a bit young for my blood."

"Oh, c'mon," the girl said, her eyes and smile betraying her intentions as she approached Kit sitting in the chair. "It's not your blood that I'm after. Besides.. I'm 21 now. That was old enough to drink on Old Earth."

"Right..." Kit chuckled and rolled his eyes. He knew that she knew that's not how it works. Before the girl got too close, Kit stood up from his chair. "Come back when you're 26 and maybe I'll reconsider."

"Such a traditionalist!" The girl said. "You wouldn't be my first, you know?"

"That doesn't make it better..." Kit saw her demeanor drop. He knew what he said was crass. "How about we meet in the middle with a hug?" Kit opened his arms, and the girl didn't hesitate to walk into him and wrap herself around his waist. "Hi, J," Kit said.

"Hi, Kit," J replied. "I really have missed you."

"You know where I live, I'm sure."

"I do, yeah. But I can't just come and see you."

"Why not?" Kit separated from J and they both took a seat as they continued talking.

"I need to maintain some degree of anonymity."

"So, get your BSI removed." It seemed a simple solution to Kit, as long as he didn't think about it for a half-second. Basic income, housing, food, and medicine was free for everyone, but access was a bureaucratic nightmare for anyone without a Brainstem Interface. As such, the only part of the population that experienced poverty were the ones that didn't have a BSI.

"I was considering it, actually," J said. She nervously began squeezing her clasped hands between her knees as she continued, "but, I actually brought you here to talk about that..."

"About... getting your BSI removed? I was just kidding about that... I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

"No. It's more about people who don't have BSI's. They seem to... uh... Well, a few friends I met way back in primary school who refused to get BSI's actually went missing over the past few weeks."

"Ah, I see... Well, I'm sure they'll turn up. I've done some reports on some roaming Humanity Purist caravans, they seem to get around all over the city, and outside it too."

"They weren't Purists though... They never mentioned being interested in them, but it's not just my friends. I remember a few times when other kids in my classes just stopped showing up and nothing was ever really said about it."

"Hmmm..." Kit started playing with his mustache. "Do you think there's a pattern?"

"Maybe..." J said. "Do you remember anything like that? I mean, I know you're like 100 years old, maybe you don't remember that long ago."

"Hey now!" Kit said as he playfully punched J's knee. "I'm 69! That's not even 50 in Earth years." Kit fixed his mustache and hair, and J just laughed. "But... yeah, actually. I remember a brother and sister of mine disappeared when I was young. I think I noticed a classmate missing one year too..."

"How big was your family?"

"Twelve kids. I was number three."

"Is that all?" J said, leaning back and crossing her arms with a strange sense of pride. "Try 23 kids, and that's just from my mom!"

"Wow... that's... pretty incredible." Kit was honestly impressed. "But, how many did she carry to term?"

"Oh... uh... just one, I think. My oldest brother. How many did your mom do?"

"Try all twelve." This time, Kit crossed his arms in a sense of accomplishment in something he had no hand in whatsoever. J was shocked.

"What?" She shouted. "That's crazy! I don't believe you."

"It's true! You call me a traditionalist? Try naturally birthing twelve children."

"Wow!" J said. She took a moment to wrap her mind around what she had just heard. She had to shake herself back to the topic at hand. "Well, anyway, you know what I'm talking about then. I talked to some of my contacts in the Cryptic Dissent. It turns out that they've had some crawlers operating on the net for a few years now, specifically collecting data on missing persons reports to security."

"Okay," Kit said, "How many reports did you find?"

"There's over a thousand here... Just in the past 3 years. That's 1-2 people reported missing every day for years! And that's only the ones that have been reported."

The number had definitely caught Kit off guard. He was silent for a moment, and instinctively tried to access the public security site, but had no network signal from their current location.

"You're trying to check the security websites official reports, right?" J asked. Kit nodded. "Forty-Seven," She said. "Forty-Seven reports are available on the website from that same period. All of them have been resolved, and most of them were people with BSIs. The rest of the reports have been scrubbed entirely from the system."

"That's... That can't be right..." Kit said.

"Feel free to check yourself once you leave."

"How is there not an uproar about this?"

"Well, I can think of a few reasons, but... I think that's a question for you to solve," J said as she held out a small memory stick. It was her preferred method of transferring data. "What do you say?"

Kit rose to his feet and began pacing as he thought. He wouldn't have been surprised if some people simply forgot about their report. Many families were so large, it was a tall order to keep in touch with everyone. Mothers and fathers weren't often very close to their children, and in many cases, may not have even met their children at all, as most childcare was done by employment or AI companions. While the number of reports was much higher than he had expected, what was more concerning to him was the fact that all that data was removed from public record.

"Are you sure this isn't just your guys spreading misinformation again?" Kit asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" J took on a defensive expression.

"Oh, you don't remember 'The Benefactors killed Alejandro' do ya?"

"Okay, you don't really know that they didn't."

"The dude was the last original human to arrive on Voracia," Kit said. "We've known since before he even arrived what the spores did to unmodified human biology. He didn't even take the inoculations and still lived to 88. You really think the Benefactors went out of their way to kill a guy who was already on death's door?"

"Okay, Kit..."

"I mean, did you see the tomb they designed for him?"

"Yeah, Kit," J said, rolling her eyes as she continued, "it'd make a pharaohs nose bleed, I know. This isn't that, okay? None of us even said anything about the Benefactors with this one."

"Okay, that's fine," Kit said. "But are you sure this data is accurate?"

"No, man, I'm not!" J looked at him with a dumbfounded look. "That's why I'm giving it to you! This information is terrifying, and I actually want you to tell me that it's faked. But if it's real? If there are really hundreds of non-BSI users going missing every year? That's something I need to know as well. That's something everybody needs to know, isn't it?"

There wasn't any more arguing from Kit. He was convinced. If it was true, it would be big. Easily the biggest story he has ever covered. It was the kind of story that could propel his independent news platform, 'Castillo's Kit with Kitiona Castillo', into the stratosphere. The prospect of possibly finding and saving some missing people would be icing on the cake. Kit reached out and grabbed the memory stick from J's hand and slid it into the slot on his BSI hub at the back of his neck.

The file was a simple spreadsheet containing the missing persons name, the reporters name, both of their residential addresses, and the last known location for 1,054 different people. Chills ran down his spine from seeing so much data. Kit was a slut for a well organized spreadsheet.

"God damn!" He said subconsciously.

"Well, if all you needed was a spreadsheet, I would have sent some a long time ago." J stood up and approached Kit with the seductive look returning to her eyes. A look that went unnoticed by Kit.

"Thanks, J. I'm going to get right on this," Kit said. He blindly felt around for J and pulled her in for a hug. She took the opportunity to hug him back, but already Kit was lost to the mystery. After transferring the data, he removed the stick from his neck and handed it to J as he pulled away from her and began walking back the way he came in. J blew an annoyed sigh.

"Asshole." She muttered.

There was a new kick in Kit's step as he returned to street level and began searching public security records for missing persons. Just as J had said, there were forty-seven reports that had been resolved over the past three years, but there was a new case that had been opened within the past few hours. It was the perfect place to start, so Kit hailed a cab and set his destination to the reporter's location. It was on the other side of the city and took nearly a half hour to arrive. In that time, he began looking through the reports that had been erased given to him by J and making a list of some of the other reporters near the location he was traveling to.

There weren't many slums in Voracity. Even those without Brainstem Interfaces were supported by the Voracian government with housing, but the available housing was quickly filled and became overpopulated. The once clean and beautiful architecture began being expanded by necessity with whatever materials the residents could get their hands on, and before long became mazelike spots of urban decay. While the style clashed with the green (or rather, purple) design philosophy of the rest of the city, the slums were beautiful in their own ways. It still took a while for Kit to find where he was going, however, but with the guidance of his BSI, he was finally able to find a cozy dwelling that was apparently the place where the person who filed the missing person's report lived.

"Hello?" Kit said into the doorless entryway. He tried to knock on the structure, but the Plasteel it was made out of was extremely rigid and was a very poor conductor of sound. A young man came from one of the rooms and looked at Kit with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "I'm looking for a..." Kit tried to look back at the report, but in the time that he was traveling, it had already been removed. "Hmm... I'm looking for someone who made a missing person's report?" He asked.

The kid still didn't say anything to Kit, he just moved back into the house and yelled for his mother, shouting that she had a visitor. About a minute later, the woman comes around the corner to meet Kit. As soon as she sees him, a smile grows across her face.

"Well... hey there!" She said, batting her eyes at him. "Come on in, would you like something to drink before we begin?"

"Uhh... no thanks..." Kit said. He already knew exactly where this was going as he stepped into the house.

"Okay, well, let's go up to my room and get started." The woman reached out and grabbed Kit's arm as she guided him through the house and upstairs. "You look nice and strong and... virile... How many kids do you have?"

"Uhh eight, I think," Kit said.

"Oh? Is that all?" The woman said.

"That I know of, yeah. I haven't done any tests lately so there's probably a few more out there."

"Ah, I see!" The woman guided Kit into a small, dimly lit room and closed the door behind him, then moved to the bed and sat down, patting the spot next to her. "Well, let's make another one, shall we?" The woman said, already slipping her robe down her bare shoulders. Kit remained standing.

"Actually, ma'am, I'm not here for that," he said. The woman had a confused look on her face, and seemed slightly offended. Kit took a seat in a chair across from her. "I'm here because I saw the missing person's report you made to security."

The confusion on the woman's face grew even more, and Kit understood why. Reports to security were always done digitally and almost always had a purely digital correspondence. If the report required a detailed discussion, a robotic interfacial companion running off the citywide AI system, known as Oracle, would be sent in lieu of a human.

"You're here about Maisey?" The woman closed her robe again, still giving Kit a suspicious look. "She's a little... young, for you, isn't she?"

"No! She's not... I'm not..." Kit rolled his eyes and shook his head, exasperated. "Listen, I'm not here for anything sexual... I'm a journalist. I'm looking into some missing person's reports and saw that you made one only a few hours ago."

"Oh... yeah, well it turns out it was a misunderstanding."

"What? really?" Kit was the one confused now. "How did that happen?"

"I dunno... I just didn't see her around the house for a few days. One of my kids said I should report her missing and I did, but only like an hour later, security sent me some footage of her at the south pier, and I also received a message from her saying that she's staying with a new boy she's sucking on."

"Oh... I see," Kit said. It sounded reasonable, but something was still off about it. "Well, don't you think it's a little strange that the report has been removed entirely?"

"Has it?" The woman said. "I don't have any devices nearby, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"Yeah, I mean, there are other resolved missing person's reports that are still available to be looked at but..." Kit paused for a moment. "Have you actually seen Maisey? Or talked to her in person since then?"

"What? That was like an hour ago, dude," The woman said. "And why should I care? She can do whoever the hell she wants, and if she's with him, that means more food for me and my other kids living here."

"Ah..." Already, Kit felt that he had gotten about as much information as he could get. He stood up from his spot and began moving toward the door. "Well, thank you for the information, I do appreciate it."

"Are you sure you don't want to stick around for a little while and have a little fun?" The woman asked. "I could really use the population bonus."

Kit stood in the doorway. Looking around at the state of the woman's house, he could tell she wasn't lying. He turned back to her.

"You registered with the bank?" He asked.

"Yeah, I am."

"What's your name?"

"Jeri Devereaux."

"Alright, Jeri. Thank you so much for your time," Kit said as he searched the woman and sent some money her way. "I've just sent a thousand credits for your help."

"Oh, really?" Jeri's face lit up as she rose from the bed and walked over to give Kit a hug. "Thank you so much, sir!"

"It's Kit, ma'am," He said. He was hoping for a look of recognition, but he didn't receive any. "You know... Castillo's Kit? With Kitiona Castillo?"

"Oh... yeah!" Jeri laughed and pretended to recognize him, noticing that he was feeling a bit deflated. She guided Kit back down the stairs as she continued, "Voracity Voice, right?"

"Y-yeah... kind of. I did work with them for a while, but I've got my own thing now," Kit said. Jeri was politely nodding and smiling as they moved to the front entrance. He was starting to feel like he was being pushed out of her home. "It's got 1.5 million subscribers!"

"That's great! I'll have to give it a look! Thank you, again, Kit!" Jeri said. As Kit stood just outside the threshold, the woman went back into her home to find one of her devices.

"That's like a quarters of the entire population!" Kit said, raising his voice enough to reach into the home. "Ah fuck it."

The next destination was the nearest home address he could find in his list of scrubbed reports. He set a walking path through the slums to his destination. It would only be a ten minute walk, and by the time he arrived, the primary sun, Auriel, had already set, leaving the second sun, Noctia to hang with a dim light in the sky for a few more hours. It was one of Kit's favorite times of day as much of the bright purple plant life would transition into a deep red that, to him, was much easier on the eyes.

His journey was winding. It wasn't the first time he had been into the slums for a story. These areas didn't get a lot of public funding, and as the slums grew, the architecture changed from the sleek and utilitarian aesthetic to a more organic design, where the non-BSI enhanced residents had to use whatever they had their hands on. The rest of the city was elegantly build around and within the plant life, careful not to cause too much disturbance to the local ecology. This was also the design principle that went into the buildings that the impoverished built as well, but without the guidance of the benefactors, they had to find unique, sometimes inefficient means of blending their homes with the environment. It was still beautiful.

After a short, leisurely walk, Kit arrived at the residence of Ingrid Moreau, who had reported her son, Ivan as missing just over a year ago. When he approached her home, he asked a girl out front where he could find Ingrid, and the girl ran into the building to find her. A few minutes later, Ingrid emerged from her home.

"Hi there... Ms. Moreau?" Kit asked politely.

"Yes... that's me." Ingrid said. "Can I ask what this is about?"

"I'm a journalist, Kit Castillo," he said, offering his hand to her, and again hoping for a sign of recognition, which again, he didn't get. Ingrid politely shook his hand and nodded for him to continue. "I'm doing a bit of investigating into missing people. I understand that you had a son go missing last year, is that right?"

"One of my sons is missing?" She asked. A look of worry ran across her face, like it was the first she was hearing of it.

"Y-yes...? You don't remember filing a report for Ivan?"

"Oh, Ivan!" Ingrid said with surprise. "Yeah, no, he just moved across the city to the east side to join an art program."

"Oh... I see. Have you seen or spoken to him since he moved?"

"Yeah, he messaged me after I made the report to let me know what was going on, and I've had some screen time with him. More than some of my thankless kids."

"Have you actually seen him in person, though?"

"Hmm..." Ingrid grabbed her chin as she looked up at the peeking stars in thought. "Maybe? I think he was at thanksgiving... or... was he? Honestly, I'm not really too sure... I've got a lot of kids to keep track of, and he wouldn't be the first one to go off and stop talking to dear old mom."

"If it wasn't the first time, why did you file a report?"

"Uhh, I don't know... I think I thought he left out of the blue. I don't remember him saying he was way into the whole art thing. I thought he wanted to stay in the local community, but I could have confused him with Greg, or Christoph."

"Okay. Do you know when the last time you talked to Ivan was?" Kit asked.

"I think he sent me some messages last week." Ingrid was starting to get suspicious. "Do you... think that... it's somebody else sending those messages?"

"No... no, nothing like that," Kit lied.

Of course, it was only a hunch, but Kit had done a story years ago involving fabricated people. They were entirely online personas that started as text only, but were gradually added to camera footage, had full conversations through video and in videogames and virtual reality. There were even reports that some of these fabricated people made the jump to augmented reality, appearing to BSI users with such fidelity that they were indistinguishable from a real flesh and blood human, complete with their own scents, body heat, and flavor. Fabricating a person was absolutely possible, but as far as he knew, nobody already living had ever been replaced with a fabrication before. Kit wasn't about to say any of that to Ingrid.

"I just wanted to make sure there aren't any discrepancies in the public record," said Kit as he stood up from his seat and shook Ingrid's hand. "Thank you for your time."

"Wait..." Ingrid held on to Kit's hand for a moment longer. Kit knew what was coming next and prepared to suppress his urge to roll his eyes. "You wouldn't be interested in a quickie, would you?" She asked. Kit gave a charming laugh.

"I'm flattered, ma'am, truly," he said with a wide smile, "but I do have other business I need to attend to."

"Alright, well, you have my info, don't be afraid to hit me up!"

Kit thanked Ingrid again before leaving to his next destination. As a majority of the reports were from people without BSI's, meaning people from the slums, he didn't have to go very far. Over the next several hours, he had conversations with a dozen more people, all with much the same story about their child, sibling, or friend moving to another part of the city or going on an expedition. None of them were very concerned, and nearly every one of them propositioned him, including the men he spoke with. He might have accepted a few of the offers any other day, but right now, this story was speaking to him in a big way.