In Lumen, they sold the sky. Ad-blimps hang over the city a mile thick. The rich live above them, in the sun. Everyone else lives in the neon underneath, and backs up their memories every night, because in Lumen, if you can pay, death is a subscription.
You steal for a living, and carry what you steal in a slot behind your left ear. Tonight you broke into the wrong lab. You wake up on the floor of a noodle bar with a stranger's voice in your head. She says her name is Dr. Mara Quell, Orison's chief architect. She says she was murdered two hours ago.
SHE'S OVERWRITING YOU.
48 HOURS UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT.
ONE MACHINE CAN SPLIT YOU: THE LOOM, ABOVE THE SKY.
A driver who owes you money. A one-armed preacher of the Unbacked. A sixteen-year-old hacker who wants her mother back. A data broker queen, men in grey with no mouths, and a CEO who has died eleven times. Mara will offer you her keys. They always work. Every one costs you a little more of yourself.
Ghostline is fiction. Every character, company and product in it is invented. Any resemblance to real people or companies is coincidental.