FLASH FICTION FRIDAY: VANDIVER

A quick Flash Fiction Friday story. Very much a fragment of my fascination with 'black' markets.

VANDIVER 

They met in a back alley. There were still a few spaces available; Vandiver wasn't, couldn't be, everywhere. Yet. In another time the space would have been called a back alley: think badly lit, overwhelmed with the smell of urine, vomit and all other manners and methods of human effluence. Those days were gone now; a back alley today was a space where Vandiver was not, and they existed in meatspace and agreedspace in equal parts. 

This particular back alley was a nook of a common walkway; probably had been used to house a John Law, back when John Laws were needed. The ubi sprayed up against the wall hadn't even been updated; it still messaged events that were long over, like the Olympics and such. Two men met in this space. One was a dealer, known in these parts. He was a pusher in black market materials; a familiar face in history. He was type of person who carried an indefinable air of shadiness; a guy who could have gone into government, but decided to be an independent operator instead. The buyer had a fresh face; well, faces. The lines between meatspace and agreedspace were blurred now, and sometimes the physics and biology would mix. But it was all good. The other was in the alley looking for something; what, he was not sure, but he would know what it was when he saw it. "What you got," asked the buyer. "Stable media. Real old style. It is called a notebook," replied the dealer. "Stable? You sure? How does it store information?" asked the buyer. "You've got to get an input device—I know some people—and you write the information down." "And Vandiver?" "Only way Vandiver's going to know this thing exist is if a John Law catches you with it; then, that's on your head." The buyer thought for a minute. "And where do I get an input device." "I know some people. They deal in pens and such; inks also. You but this book, and I can hook you up with them." The buyer thought for a minute. "Ok, how much?" The dealer smiled.