《Once Giants: The Neon Amazon》


 Part 1

    Tina kicked in the warped plastiply door of the rusted zinc shack.


    The people within jumped as the door flew off its hinges and through the flimsy corrugated wall on the opposite side.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move, shitheads,¡± she said quickly, as she ducked under the doorway and slipped into the room. ¡°No one has to die here tonight.¡±


    Three men stared up at her in stunned silence, caught flatfooted as they sat on overturned plastic buckets; playing dominoes around a white picnic table littered with empty food containers, half empty beer bottles, and full ash trays. Shitheads indeed. Tina moved further inside toward the table, her bare feet yielding to the hard-packed clay of the dirt floor. She remained stooped to fit her eight foot frame inside the tiny shack, a situation she was so accustomed to she could almost do so without thinking.


    The place stank as usual; reeking of marijuana smoke, mixed with piss and gun oil. And made all the more awful thanks to her nano-enhaced senses.


    Her mark, Raul, sat at the far end of the table¡ªa pudgy, full-blooded Portuguese man with greasy black hair and a beard to match. He exhaled heavily and leaned his head back with a roll of his eyes. ¡°Puta Merda!¡± he swore at her in Portuguese. ¡°You really got to show up at a time like this?¡±


    ¡°Voc¨º t¨¢ atrasado,¡± she replied in kind. You¡¯re late. ¡°And you know it.¡±


    Tina forced herself to focus on him and him alone¡ªor at least that was the impression she wanted to give. Raul wasn¡¯t really a threat. She had kicked his ass enough times to make him think twice before trying anything stupid. But the other two were unknown to her.


    And that made them dangerous.


    Chestnut-skinned with dark dreadlocks, they wore camouflage fatigues, hidden poorly beneath expensive brown leather dusters. The sight of the fatigues caused her adrenal glands to kick in, speeding her pulse and forcing her already enhanced senses to acuity as her muscles began to swell beneath her own skin-tight apparel. She regretted it immediately, tasted blood in her mouth, her body pulling for nonexistent resources, cannibalizing itself.


    Shit . . . already? Not even three days this time! Cheap-ass nanites.


    She should never have come here. Smart money said to leave now, go back and beg her asshole boss for another dose of mercy while she still had blood pumping through her veins instead of battery acid. But Marcos wasn¡¯t one for mercy. In fact, it was just his style to be sending her out on a collection run this close to zero. More control. And returning empty-handed would be out of the question.


    Not unless she wanted him to double her debt again.


    A tickle caught in her throat, but she used every ounce of her will to avoid the coughing fit that would eventually follow. Showing weakness at a time like this would be an invitation to pounce that even Raul wouldn¡¯t be able to turn down.


    ¡°Damn,¡± one of the dreadheads said in American-accented English. ¡°That¡¯s a huge bitch!¡±


    The dreadheads both laughed, gawking up at her with a mixture of awe, lust, and disbelief¡ªa look she was all too accustomed to getting from men, and even some women. Although, it had been far easier to endure when she was in the ring.


    ¡°Marcos wants what you owe him,¡± Tina continued in Portuguese, so the Americans wouldn¡¯t comprehend. ¡°And I need to take back what you owe him to get what he owes me. So I¡¯m real motivated, understand?¡±


    An almost undetectable smirk crawled its way onto Raul¡¯s dark, bulbous lips. She had said too much. Raul could translate exactly what she was talking about. He didn¡¯t need to hear her cough now. He knew full well what state her body was in.


    His emboldened grin confirmed her suspicions. ¡°I think you better tell Marcos I¡¯ll pay him if, and when, I feel like it. Do you understand?¡±


    Tina tensed. Raul was obstinate, but he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to outright defy someone like Marcos. Not without help. She looked to the two dreadheads again. Their eyes darted back and forth between Raul and herself, subtle expressions on their brows. Were they communicating somehow? Silently, through Neural Lynk implants? Raul had one for sure, and for American military types, it was probably a requirement. Not that neural-tech was uncommon. Cybernetics had been around for well over a century since the late 2070s, but in a shithole like S?o Paulo, they were either a status symbol or an indicator of extreme high performance capabilities.


    And that made her even more nervous.


    The posture of the dreadheads shifted, both adjusting slowly to sit upright. She could smell the adrenaline-tinged reek of their sweat as it beaded on their foreheads, heard the sound of their hearts racing with anticipation.


    Tina took a step back toward the doorway, crouching into a ready stance. She released the mental stops she had placed on her body. Synthetic glands pumped hormones as a sheen of sweat coated her skin. What little strength her body had left would have to protect her now. Her breathing grew rapid. The adrenaline that heightened anxiety and fear quickly changed to produce determination and rage.


    One of the dreadheads threw open his duster, and Tina saw him reach for a glint of metal beneath. She kicked the table into him, sent him flying backward over his bucket in a shower of bottles and trash. The other rasta headed man stood, whipping out a machete and bringing it down on her forearm. The sharp sting of steel slicing flesh triggered more glands to pump. Her head grew light; too many chemicals sending too many signals to her overtaxed brain.


    A gunshot rang out.


    More pain leapt through her side as the adrenaline surged, spinning quickly into rage. Tina screamed as genetic engineering and decades-old training took over. She grabbed the machete by the blade and buried her other fist in the man¡¯s head with a wet thud. Then, snatching his body by the collar and waist, she slammed it into his partner as he was rising from the floor. The other dreadhead crumpled back to the ground as the body of his friend was brought down on top of him. After two more slams, he stopped moving altogether.


    Tina didn¡¯t stop slamming until long after she had lost count.


    By the time she did, her breathing was strained. Her chest heaved and ached until eventually, her breathing slowed and she arose to stand over her handiwork. The dreadheads were now lying on the floor like two bloodied sacks of pulverized meat. Bile rose in her throat, and she had to turn away to keep from vomiting.


    As the adrenaline waned, the reality of what she had done slowly set in. Killing someone was always bad. Killing two people was worse. But killing two people she didn¡¯t even know?


    Now that was downright stupid.


    She glanced over to see Raul standing motionless next to her, his head barely reaching her shoulder even in her stooped position. His face was a portrait of incomprehension and fear.


    ¡°Girl, you are so friggin¡¯ dead,¡± he said.


    Then, abruptly, he made a bolt for the open doorway behind her.


    ¡°Hey!¡± she cried. But Tina could barely manage to track him with her eyes much less stop him, as he clambered through the doorway and into the night. ¡°Shit!¡±


    She tried to go after him, but stumbled, the tickle catching in her throat again. She hacked loudly into her hand, falling against one of the flimsy corrugated walls for support as an all too familiar coughing fit took hold. When it finally subsided a minute later, flecks of rust-colored mucus covered her palm. Not good. Tina struggled back to her feet and staggered toward the open doorway.


    She took one last look at the two bodies on the floor and the echo of Raul¡¯s words chilled her to the soul.


    ¡°Puta Merda,¡± she whispered as she stepped out into the darkened alleyway. ¡°What the hell have I done?¡±

 Part 2

    Tina clutched her side as she stumbled out of the favela and onto the neon-lit streets of S?o Paulo. Blood covered the entire left side of her skintight jumpsuit from the ribs down, and seeped from the gunshot wound Raul had managed to land. At least, she assumed it was him who had fired. Thankfully, a heavy rain now fell from the night sky and had already washed the excess blood from the places the dark blue material of the jumpsuit couldn¡¯t hide.


    She leaned against a palm tree and vomited what felt like a gallon of blood. Her head spun.


    Her body was eating itself alive, trying to treat wounds she knew it couldn¡¯t heal. She needed the injection now more than ever. Empty-handed or not, she needed to face Marcos.


    Tina spotted a line of rickshaws at the far end of the street and headed toward them, pushing through the rain. At least she¡¯d managed to survive the attack from the two assassins Raul had hired to take her out.


    Yeah, right. The idea felt ridiculous even as she thought it. Raul wouldn¡¯t have gone through that kind of trouble just for her. She had no clue who those two men were, or what type of military or paramilitary outfit they were connected with. They¡¯d sounded American; what were men like that doing in S?o Paulo? And talking to a scumbag like Raul, no less. More importantly, why the hell did she have to go and kill them?


    Who knew what kind of heat this would bring down on her, now. Or the entire city for that matter.


    But all of that was secondary for the moment. She needed her treatment, and badly.


    Tina stumbled toward the rickshaws and hefted herself into the first one she reached. The wooden frame creaked loudly and nearly flipped backward as she tumbled inside. A shout rang out, and she heard quick footfalls splashing through the rain.


    A young, bronze-skinned boy poked his head into the carriage with a look of dismay. ¡°Are you serious? I can¡¯t pull you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that big-ass, horse of a bitch should be the one pulling!¡± a boy¡¯s voice shouted from outside, and a crowd of kids she couldn¡¯t see laughed in response.


    Tina reached into an inner pocket of her jumpsuit and withdrew a roll of reais, tossing them into the boy¡¯s face. ¡°Take me into the city,¡± she said. ¡°And go get as many of your stupid little friends as you need to pull me.¡±

 Part 3

    Tina was barely clinging to consciousness by the time the four exhausted little slum boys ferried her across town and into the red light district of Baixo Augusta. Marcos was already waiting for her outside his club, or perhaps she had passed out and one of the boys had run in to fetch him. He was looking down at her from the side of the rickshaw. His bald head shone with the blue holographic signage of his establishment: The Crazy Horse. His thin, salt-and-pepper mustache twitched, but he didn¡¯t say anything.


    That meant he was angry. Very angry. Had he found out what happened already? It was entirely possible. News traveled quickly through the favela and, considering what she¡¯d done, the repercussions couldn¡¯t be good.


    ¡°Bring her inside,¡± he said eventually, and motioned to two goons wearing ugly brown suits behind him. ¡°Get these favela rats to help.¡±


    Marcos didn¡¯t seem to want to talk, and that was fine with her.


    Tina assisted as much as she could as the two men and four boys helped her out of the rickshaw and into the cool, air-conditioned confines of the strip club. The pounding bass and flashing holograms did nothing to ease the ringing in her head. The girls on stage stopped their routine to gawk at her. One of them even had the nerve to laugh. The little bitch. The rest of the patrons gave them an extra wide berth as they made their way through and into the back.


    They dumped her onto a black leather couch, and Marcos entered with an ampule of green liquid in one hand, a silver syringe in the other.


    ¡°You should feel lucky I¡¯m even doing this.¡± Marcos loaded the ampule into the syringe with a click. ¡°I should let you die and be done with you for good, you big dumb bitch.¡±


    The mere utterance of that phrase had her blood seething with rage. His pet name for her¡ªhis ¡®big dumb bitch¡¯ that he used to take out rival gangs and stand as his champion in pit fights and blood tournaments. And that was just the stuff her body was actually built for. Worse still were his daily threats of making her earn her keep on the stage, or in the seedy back rooms. Frig that!


    But she¡¯d fix his ass one day. One day when she could finally get free from him, and out of this hellhole called Brazil.


    Tina used what was left of her strength to give him a one-fingered gesture. ¡°Yeah . . . lucky me, asshole.¡±


    He smirked, and then pressed the syringe to her neck.

 Part 4

    Tina awoke with a start, her heart racing. Dull sunlight streamed through a small window high above her. She checked the bioluminescent implant on the inside of her wrist for the time. It was three in the afternoon. She groaned as her body protested even that much motion, but overall, she felt a thousand times better than she had the night before.


    The treatment had worked its magic once again.


    But how much of it had that stingy bastard given her?


    Her stomach growled, and her throat felt parched to the point of aching. Her body was screaming for calories, nourishment. Now that her stomach wasn¡¯t trying to eat itself anymore, it was ready to go to work. She knew there was no food in the club, though. And that meant she would have to risk going outside. But could she? Who knew what stories Raul had spread about what happened last night? At least Marcos seemed to have trusted her enough to leave her here alone. That was a good sign.


    And probably a mistake on his part.


    Tina checked the bullet wound in her side to find it had already scabbed over. The cut on her arm and hand didn¡¯t look so bad either. It felt good to be back to normal. She performed a quick sweep of the club and found the place deserted. Even the rooms where Marcos housed¡ªor rather, imprisoned¡ªhis girls lay empty. She had half a mind to ransack the place, find where he hid those ampules. But if the girls had been cleared out, there was a good chance he had up and moved his whole operation last night. Besides, she had already tried that once. She never found the stuff, and all Marcos did was laugh in her face, adding the damages to her million and a half debt.


    Another stomach growl reset her priorities. Tina checked the street outside from the front window. It looked quiet, but there was no way she could risk being seen right now. She headed to the back of the club instead. When she opened the back door, she found a rickshaw parked in the alleyway, the same kid from last night lounging in it.


    He sat up quickly and smiled. ¡°Ha! I knew you would try to come out the back way, grande senhora.¡±


    Tina stooped down to lean against the side of the doorframe as she poked her head outside. ¡°S¨¦rio?¡± she said in Portuguese. ¡°So you¡¯re my guard, then. You working for Marcos now, too?¡±


    The boy shook his head as he jumped out of the rickshaw. ¡°Nope. I work for you. I thought you were probably gonna need my rickshaw again.¡±


    ¡°And did you bring your friends to help you? Or were you planning to pull me all by yourself this time?¡±


    The kid grinned and laughed. He obviously hadn¡¯t thought it through that far. How much money had she thrown at him last night? Enough that here he was, apparently. He could be useful for information at least. ¡°Where is everyone?¡±


    The kid shrugged. ¡°I saw a whole bunch of vans and trucks come through earlier, picking people up.¡±


    So Marcos had relocated. She¡¯d been wrong. Leaving her here alone wasn¡¯t a sign of trust at all. It was more like leaving wounded prey out in the open to see what kind of predator it would attract. That was the Marcos she knew. But Marcos was area boss of the favela, and controlled most of Baixo Augusta as well. What kind of predator would be big enough to scare off someone like him?


    Her stomach grumbled.


    Tina reached back into her hidden pocket and withdrew some more reais. She tossed the kid two rolls of bills. ¡°One of those is yours. Go down to the market and spend the other on as much meat and rice as it will buy.¡±


    He looked at the money. ¡°You sure you want me to spend all of this?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And hurry up.¡±

 Part 5

    Tina found a three-gallon plastic bucket and filled it with water. She then sat on the back steps of the club, raised it to her lips, and drank deeply. She drained and refilled the bucket twice more while she waited for the kid to return. The water felt like heaven in her stomach, and her body seemed to swell and cool as it absorbed and replenished all it had lost.


    Sounds of the city echoed down the alleyway: traffic and sirens, people shopping or headed for home. A police aerodyne roared overhead, and Tina ducked back instinctively as it flew by. It looked like a flying box mounted on cylindrical repeller-coil booms. A gunner with a machinegun hung off the side, scanning the streets for signs of trouble below¡ªwhich would likely include her. Funny how the government had money to spend on paramilitary shit like that, while half the population was stuck slumming it in the favelas without proper electricity or running water.


    A few more minutes passed and the kid finally returned, the rickshaw loaded with a basket of empanadas, a cauldron of steaming rice and beans, and a foil pan full of barbequed chorizo sausage.


    ¡°Hey, they call you Size Queen, right?¡± The kid gestured to the chorizo with a silly grin on his face. ¡°I heard it means you like big sausages.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a pervert . . .¡± Size Queen. She¡¯d always hated the double entendre of that stupid name. ¡°But you did good, kid. Obrigado.¡±


    Tina placed the pot of rice between her legs, the pan of chorizo to her side, and the basket of empanadas next to it. She offered the kid some, but he admitted that he¡¯d already eaten his fill on the trip back. She grabbed a large serving spoon and began chowing through the rice and beans. It had been four days since she¡¯d been able to eat last, and the food hitting her stomach felt orgasmic. She kept shoveling down the rice, alternating the chorizo and empanadas between spoonfuls, wolfing them down in two or three quick bites.


    ¡°Puta merda . . .¡± the kid swore. ¡°I should be recording this.¡±


    Tina ignored him. It took her a good thirty minutes of solid eating to work through it all. By the time she finished, her jaw ached from chewing almost as much as her stomach did from being stuffed. She belched loudly and leaned back, already feeling her muscles strengthening and filling out as the nanites did their work.


    She released a deep sigh. ¡°I needed that.¡±


    ¡°No shit,¡± the kid said in English.


    ¡°You swear too much. What¡¯s your name, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Paulo,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯d take off now if I were you, Paulo. Some bad things happened last night, and you don¡¯t need to be mixed up in it.¡±


    ¡°Hey, are you from outer space?¡± He cocked his head. ¡°Like one of them moon people or something?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said, since it sounded like a genuine question. Guess he was too young to know about the League. ¡°It¡¯s likely to get worse around here, understand? Go on, get on out of here.¡±


    Tina stood and stretched, her muscles growing with each flex. Yesterday, her figure had been slender and bony, like an emaciated dancer. Now, she bulked with the heft of a bodybuilder.


    ¡°How come you always wear that same blue suit? I ain¡¯t never seen you in nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Because it fits me,¡± she said. ¡°You ever try shopping for a size sixty bra?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Tina chuckled at his response. She descended the steps and headed down the alley. ¡°I¡¯m getting out of here. I suggest you do the same.¡±


    ¡°Where you going? You not gonna wait for Marcos to come back?¡±


    ¡°Marcos isn¡¯t coming back.¡± The cachorro. She wouldn¡¯t even be in this situation if not for him. If her body hadn¡¯t been so low on reserves, she wouldn¡¯t have frenzied and killed those two dreadheads last night. And who¡¯s to say Marcos himself hadn¡¯t set it all up for exactly that outcome? The idea chilled her. She needed to find her own answers to all this.


    ¡°Hey, one more question,¡± Paulo called out behind her and Tina paused at the end of the alley. ¡°How tall are you, anyway?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°It depends.¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    Tina looked back at him over her shoulder and grinned.


    ¡°On how mad I get.¡±

 Part 6

    Tina reverted to her normal mode of transportation now that she was fueled back up: walking. Or walking and dashing, as the case turned out today. She stuck to the side streets and alleys as much as possible while in the city, but once inside the dingy confines of the favela, she broke into a full run. Hiding was impossible in the slums, at least for her. Too many people knew her, and she was too damn big not to spot. Better to just get where she was going as quickly as possible.


    She considered heading to her own favela shack to resupply on cash, but there was no telling what kind of trap Raul or even Marcos may have set up for her there. Besides that, she needed to find out who those two men were. And why Marcos had decided to ghost so quickly after she had killed them. And she needed to do it all before this dose of treatment wore off.


    The thought irked her.


    Yet another form of control by Marcos¡ªdisappearing like that. Making her face whatever he was running from all on her own. Making her grow desperate as her reserves ran low, subtly reminding her who was in charge. As much as she despised him though, Marcos was still the only person with the connections to supply the military-grade nanomachines she required to keep herself alive, and at a price she could afford.


    There were other options, of course¡ªa commercial variant with less potency and major side effects¡ªbut she had seen too many of her friends die from using those. There was also the other end of the spectrum: legal designer drugs that could combat the side effects of her bioenhancements without the use of nanomachines at all. Sure, she couldn¡¯t be superwoman anymore if she took them, but at least her body wouldn¡¯t try to eat itself every four days. She didn¡¯t have the millions of reais to afford those kinds of drugs, though. Not in this economy, anyway.


    Back home, in the US, a decent job with insurance could easily cover the cost. Back there, able to afford the drugs, she might actually have a shot at a somewhat normal life. But to get back there, she had to make enough money to pay off her debt. And to make money, she had to keep working for this sick bastard until she could afford to be free of him¡ªfor good.


    The thought of it caused her stomach to sour and her temples to throb. Her cursed life.


    She should never have come here.


    Tina took her frustration out on a garbage bag, kicking it into a wall. The bag burst open, and an immense sense of satisfaction coursed through her as the contents splattered. Her only disappointment was that it hadn¡¯t been Marcos¡¯s head.

 Part 7

    Tina had formulated a loose plan by the time she finished kicking a few more garbage bags, running aimlessly across half the favela. Raul was the key. He would have the answers she needed, but by the scared-as-hell look he¡¯d had on his face after she had killed those men, there was a good chance he had gone into hiding as well. Which meant a slim chance of finding him¡ªdirectly, anyway.


    Fortunately, Raul had a habit; one he controlled well, but that, under stress, led him to become a full-blown junkie like the rest of them. And as Marcos¡¯s personal enforcer, Tina knew every drug den in the favela. Not that she relished the task of checking each one for him; she had simply become proficient at it over the past five years.


    Five whole years doing this crap. Man, she needed out of this place.


    Tina headed for the closest den¡ªan abandoned warehouse down by the markets. She zipped through tight alleys and, where she could, over rooftops, quickly scaling the two and three-story buildings and dropping down the opposite side. As she continued on, something struck her as vaguely out of place and she slowed, straining her senses to figure out what.


    Tina halted.


    Normally, the smells and sounds of an early workday afternoon would be in full swing by now. Fishermen returning from the market, handing what was left of their catch to their wives to fry for supper, the static blare of samba on cheap radios. But the place was deathly quiet instead. Doors closed, windows barred.


    Something was going on, and it involved the entire favela.


    Tina trekked cautiously down a few more alleys. As she neared the boundary of the slum, she saw at least fifty armed men making their way up and into the favela, streaming from a trio of black, armored personnel carriers parked along the main road.


    Her heart rate jumped.


    The men carried assault pulse rifles and looked trained to use them. They kicked in doors and dragged people out of their homes, dwarfing them in their black combat armor. Tina thought it was the Unidade de Pol¨ªcia Pacificadora, or UPP, at first¡ªthe Police Pacification Unit that periodically ¡°cleansed¡± the slums in the name of reclaiming territory controlled by the gangs. But Marcos paid a hefty sum to keep the unit commanders on payroll. The only time the UPP entered his favela was to clear out rivals.


    Plus these were soldiers, not police, and from the crests on their helmets, they were from the central RAL government. Most of the soldiers didn¡¯t even look Brazilian, and she could hear Spanish as they shouted to one another in their methodical search of the area. That made sense. Brazil was still somewhat of a mildly tolerated stepchild within El Rep¨²blica Americana Latina, and the central army rarely recruited from there. When Central and South America united to form the Latin American Republic in 2092, Brazil had refused to change its language, currency, or laws. The result was Brazil being ostracized and cut off from many of the services the new super-country provided.


    In a way, Brazil was the favela of the RAL.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re looking for me,¡± an American accent said next to her.


    Adrenaline spiked as her glands kicked into high gear. Tina spun and took an involuntary step backward, fists raised to strike.


    A man in a long black trench coat stood across from her. Mahogany-skinned, he had slim features with a trimmed goatee. His eyes were silver-gray, and he had dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail that reached midway down his back. His coat was open wide enough to reveal a set of camouflage fatigues underneath.


    There was no sense in finding Raul now. It was too late; they¡¯d already found her. Whoever the hell these friggin¡¯ rastas were.


    ¡°When they told me to look for a giant version of Smurfette, I thought they were shitting me.¡±


    He grinned, and then proceeded to laugh. ¡°The outfit. Now I get it.¡±


    Tina didn¡¯t know quite how to take him. Seemed like a joker, but she wasn¡¯t about to let her guard down. By the way he¡¯d gotten the drop on her, he could easily have killed her just now.


    The fact that he hadn¡¯t meant he wanted to talk, at least.


    ¡°Your people attacked me first,¡± Tina said. ¡°And my killing them was an accident.¡±


    ¡°So I heard . . .¡± He beamed a grin at her. ¡°You know, I used to watch you all the time, back in the day. You were Size Queen, right?¡±


    Great. So he was a fan, as well. ¡°You mind telling me who you are, and what you want with me?¡±


    ¡°The name¡¯s Doc. And I want you to help me blow up a starship.¡±

 Part 8

    Besides being the favela of the RAL, Brazil had one more embarrassing claim to fame.


    ¡°The Amazonian Woman¡¯s Wrestling League.¡± Doc wore a huge grin as he said it. ¡°That shit was the bomb, right?¡±


    Tina sighed. She looked back down the alley to check on the soldiers still ransacking houses. Was he really talking to her about this crap right now? Tina didn¡¯t even want to remember it, much less talk about it. ¡°Look, that was a long time ago. And no, it wasn¡¯t the bomb. It was a pretty stupid idea, okay?¡±


    ¡°What? Giant female wrestlers? Are you serious?¡±


    Tina rolled her eyes. What kind of shithead was this guy?


    ¡°Well, I thought it was a pretty good idea.¡± Doc then gestured at her. ¡°You did too, apparently.¡±


    ¡°It ruined my life, all right, smart ass? Now, what do you want?¡±


    ¡°The hell you talking about? You girls got rich off that shit.¡±


    ¡°No, the AWWL got rich. I got medical bills.¡± Not to mention all the nanite treatments they needed after every fight. Decades¡¯ worth of resentment reignited as the memories churned. The bastards . . . ¡°They made us pay for the enhancements ourselves. We were broke half the time!¡±


    ¡°Naw, I don¡¯t believe that.¡± Doc shook his head, still grinning. ¡°I saw the reality shows. Those custom houses with the super high doors and giant bathtubs. You bitches were loaded.¡±


    ¡°The AWWL owned all that, asshole.¡± Geez, he sounded just like one of their reps! ¡°They made us pay to live there. I was three million in the hole when they cancelled the League. Then they turn around and make a whole new League in the states to replace us?¡± Her mind reeled. ¡°And who the hell are you calling ¡®bitches¡¯?¡±


    Doc was silent for a moment. ¡°Whatever happened to you all, anyway? I used to love that one chick, with the red hair? Cherry Bomb or something?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s dead . . .¡±


    ¡°Oh. . . . What about¡ª¡±


    ¡°Most of us are dead now, okay? There¡¯s just a handful of us left.¡± Why the hell was she even talking to this idiot? She checked the alley again to keep an eye on the soldiers. Luckily, they still seemed a good distance away.


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. That bitch was fine.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tina turned back to him sharply. ¡°I tell you my friend is dead, and all you can say is ¡®that bitch was fine¡¯?¡±


    Doc shrugged. ¡°Well, she was.¡±


    Tina clenched her fists as her irritation peaked. ¡°I¡¯m trying really hard not to hit you right now.¡±


    ¡°Look, let¡¯s change the subject and get down to business. The facts are this: I was on a three-man op, and you went and killed my backup. So now, you have to replace them.¡±


    ¡°Like hell I do.¡± Tina took a step forward, moving into his personal space. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m helping you blow up some damn spaceship.¡±


    ¡°Not spaceship. Starship.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Whatever? I said ¡®Starship¡¯. . . like the one¡¯s they¡¯re building to get to Helios? This is a big deal.¡±


    ¡°Not to me. I don¡¯t even know what the hell Helios is.¡±


    His eyes narrowed. ¡°You been living under a rock or something? Helios!¡± He stressed it like it was something she ought to know. ¡°Wormhole? The Infinity comet? None of this shit rings a bell?¡±


    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about. So how about I just hand you over to those guys over there, if you¡¯re the one they¡¯re looking for?¡± She jutted her chin toward the soldiers. ¡°That¡¯d solve all our problems. Or at least mine.¡±


    ¡°Do I need to remind you that the reason they¡¯re here is because of you?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°When you killed my guys, word got out that I was here, thanks to your dumbass associate. And now, they¡¯re looking for me.¡±


    ¡°What associate?¡±


    ¡°Raul.¡±


    Tina didn¡¯t appreciate any association with that scumbag whatsoever, but she supposed it was true, by strict definition of the word. Something else was bugging her, though. ¡°Why did your men attack me in the first place? I was there to collect drug money from Raul. That¡¯s it.¡±


    Doc cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, that was another screw-up by your associate . . . and a bit of a miscalculation by mine. Raul convinced my guys that you needed to be taken out in order to keep our cover. Had they known about the Amazonian League, now,¡± Doc said with a sly grin, ¡°they probably would have thought twice. Did you know you guys were grafted with military spec biomods snuck out of the states?¡±


    So Raul had suggested they kill her? ¡°How do you know that for sure?¡±


    ¡°Saw it on the History channel.¡±


    ¡°No, not that! I mean about Raul convincing your men to kill me.¡± She remembered the silent conversation they¡¯d seemed to be having. ¡°How do you know? Were you there, listening in? Communicating with them on Neural Lynks or something?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t even have an implant. Raul fessed up afterward, when I caught up with him. Said he was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Apparently, he didn¡¯t like you too much. Said he was tired of you being a pain in his ass.¡±


    ¡°More like me kicking his ass.¡± She huffed. So it was personal, after all. The stupid bastard¡ªthis whole thing wouldn¡¯t have even happened if not for him. ¡°Where is he now?¡±


    ¡°Dead,¡± Doc said. ¡°I killed him. He couldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut.¡±


    Tina¡¯s skin grew cold. Whatever visions of revenge she¡¯d begun to concoct for Raul evaporated instantly.


    ¡°Seriously, I should have worked with your boss from the start. Much smarter guy.¡±


    ¡°My boss? Marcos?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, him.¡±


    So Marcos wasn¡¯t involved. Which meant he really had run because he was afraid. But of what? Had he found out this Doc guy had offed Raul and was now looking for him?


    ¡°Oh, and by the way,¡± Doc added, ¡°he¡¯s no longer your boss.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I am. He sold me your contract. So, technically, you work for me now. Which means you don¡¯t actually have a choice in whether or not you help me blow up this starship.¡±


    ¡°He what?¡± Anger sparked adrenaline, and her nostrils flared. This wasn¡¯t happening. He couldn¡¯t do this to her! Now Tina knew why that bastard had fled and left her there alone. He was running from someone all right.


    Her.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill that son of a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey, take it easy. It¡¯s just business.¡± Doc reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a green ampule, tossed it casually into the air. ¡°Speaking of which, you know I have much better stuff than this. Use it myself. They got nanomachines with half-life¡¯s lasting over a century now. That¡¯s the kind of insurance I like to buy for my investments. What¡¯s this crap got? Like five, six days duration, max?¡±


    ¡°Four. . . .¡±


    He laughed. ¡°That¡¯s a lick above shit. Surprised you haven¡¯t dropped dead right in front of me by now.¡±


    Tina looked down at Doc as he continued to laugh¡ªtossing that ampule like he was God, pulling her puppet strings, exerting his control. Fire lit in her gut as she thought about it. Her entire adult life, wasted away in this hell hole, a freak of nature, controlled by sick men with those damn strings. Men like Marcos. The AWWL. And now this bastard?


    No. Glands fueled adrenaline as the rage crept in. No more. Tina curled her hands into fists so hard her palms nearly bled. She was sick of it.


    ¡°I¡¯m damned well sick of it!¡± Tina screamed and let loose a punch.


    The shout and attack seemed to take Doc off guard, and she connected solidly with his jaw.


    Pain snapped through her knuckles and arm as Doc went flying across the alley and into a wall. His body hit with a spray of concrete that left a large crack as he slid down to the alley floor.


    Tina charged at him. Doc recovered quickly and moved at the last second. She careened into the wall. It shattered as she fell through, landing on her side. She grabbed a chunk of the wall as she pulled herself back up, then turned and flung it at Doc.


    She caught him in the middle of rubbing his jaw, and the cement smacked him right on his arm.


    ¡°Hey!¡± He glared back at her, gray eyes blazing. He bent down and picked up the concrete.


    ¡°You really want to start throwing shit?¡±


    Doc whipped his arm and a blur left his hand. The concrete hit her in the head so hard she saw stars. She caught a sudden motion, heard a swoosh of leather. A sharp pain cut into her thigh, accompanied by the vip of metal slicing air. The sound and pain repeated itself several times as her other leg and arms caught fire.


    Something hot and wet ran down her face, obscuring the vision in her left eye. A quick check with her palm confirmed it was blood. Glands kicked in as her body rallied to reject the damage and pain. She fixed on Doc, her breathing increasing. She felt her body begin to swell and grow as the thought of breaking him into little pieces settled in her mind.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even consider it.¡±


    Doc regarded her coolly, a slim, black-bladed katana dripping with her blood in his hand.


    ¡°That body of yours has got power, Queen, I¡¯ll give you that. But you were trained to be a wrestling clown, not a killer. You don¡¯t want to go up against someone like me.¡±


    ¡°Screw you.¡±


    Doc flicked his katana to the side, ridding it of her blood before concealing it within his trench coat again. He then gazed up at her and seemed to relax somewhat. ¡°Look, I get it. The world screwed you over. But so what? People get screwed over every day. The question is, what are you going to do about it? Keep scumming it in this cesspool, trying to pay off some slum lord so you can get some magical ticket back to suburbia? You think you¡¯re going to make someone a good housewife? Give him a family?¡±


    Tina clenched her jaw, heat rising in her stomach as she glared down at him. To her surprise, a trickle of wetness ran down her face from the corner of her eye. ¡°That¡¯s not fair . . .¡±


    ¡°Maybe not. But it is what it is. I can¡¯t give you back your old life, Queen. No one can. You sold that when you signed up for the League. But what I can offer you is a better life than what you¡¯re living now. You¡¯ve got abilities I need, and I¡¯m willing to make it worth your while if you help me.¡±


    She focused on him again, blinking back the tears. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I can give you a treatment that¡¯s permanent. You¡¯ll be free of the side effects for life. You¡¯ll even live longer. You won¡¯t be chained to anyone. And when I go, I¡¯ll take you with me. I¡¯ll train you. I know you¡¯re pretty smart to have survived down here this long. Honestly, you¡¯ve got great potential in this line of work¡ªso long as you can get that temper of yours under control.¡±


    Tina thought about it. A chance to leave S?o Paulo. Free of constant treatments metered out by creeps like Marcos. A chance to leave all this mess behind. But at what cost? Would it really be any different following someone like Doc around? Did she really want to turn into something like him in the end?


    ¡°I still need to do this job,¡± he said. ¡°And I still need your help to do it. I have some important clients in West Africa who will be highly upset if their competition doesn¡¯t experience unfortunate setbacks during next week¡¯s tests.¡±


    Shouts rang out from the end of the alleyway, and Tina turned to see a group of RAL soldiers standing at the entrance with rifles in hand. Another shout came, and the popcorn sound of gunfire erupted as their muzzles flashed.


    Tina shielded herself instinctively. A bullet stung her in the arm and side. She doubled over with the force of the hit, but her endorphins kicked in immediately, dulling the pain.


    She saw Doc take a shot to the shoulder, but he didn¡¯t seem to react to it. He then whipped open his trench coat and a foot-long orange flame leapt out with an ear-shattering brap! The soldiers at the end of the alleyway fell, near instantaneously, leaving a red mist hanging in the air.


    ¡°Looks like this party¡¯s over.¡± Doc concealed the smoking barrel of the multi-shot pulse cannon as more soldiers began closing in on their location. ¡°Don¡¯t take too long to make your decision, Queen. You know you don¡¯t have much time, especially with those wounds.¡± He pulled out the ampule to show her again. ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you in four days.¡±

 Part 9

    Tina felt chills as the salty night air rolled in off the ocean some ten miles away. She¡¯d once read that the ocean had been twice that distance away in the past, back when the tides were low, and before half of Rio was reclaimed by the sea.


    She leaned back against the palm tree, having made sure that it wasn¡¯t the same one she had vomited beside earlier. She brought her knees into her chest for warmth, and stared down at her dirty and calloused bare feet. Her body had finished healing, but had burned through a lot of nanites doing so. The side effects would start soon. She had maybe another day or two, if she was lucky.


    Tina stared into the night sky, to where a crescent moon hung low over the horizon, the dark side illuminated by a network of city lights from the Lunar colonies. She often wondered what it would be like to go there, a whole new world free of the chaos and constraints that defined her life here.


    She then looked beyond, to the stars themselves; an endless sea of twinkling possibilities. She¡¯d been so out of touch with the world these past few years. She hadn¡¯t even known there were ships now capable of reaching them, and here she was about to go and destroy one.


    Her mind rolled back to Doc, to the choice he had offered her. Or the illusion of a choice, perhaps. In less than a day, she could either let him become her new master, or die. Some choice. And what cause did she even have to trust him? He¡¯d admitted to killing Raul so casually it was disturbing. Who was to say he wouldn¡¯t do the same to her after his ¡°job¡± was done?


    How did things get so messed up? With Marcos, she¡¯d at least known where she stood. Who knew how else this Doc might make her repay her debt?


    But he had been right about one thing: her plan to get back home to the US was a pipedream. She had to make a better life for herself, that was true, but here and now, and on her own terms.


    ¡°Hey, Size Queen!¡±


    Tina glanced up to see the rickshaw kid, Paulo, approaching her, a huge grin on his face.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not my name.¡±


    Paulo froze on the spot, clearly taken off guard by her snapping at him.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Nothing. You look sad.¡±


    ¡°You would be too, if you were me.¡±


    Paulo laughed. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re just hungry. You want me go get you something to eat?¡±


    ¡°No, thanks.¡±


    He sat down next to her, his tiny frame dwarfed beside hers. ¡°When I get sad, you know what I do? I go chill with meus amigos.¡± Paulo pointed to the line of rickshaws down the street.


    ¡°We¡¯re like brothers, though not real brothers. You know? Ain¡¯t you got no friends like that?¡±


    Silence hung in the air like the most pathetic answer on Earth.


    ¡°I did once,¡± she said eventually. ¡°And we were close, like sisters. Like you and your brothers.¡±


    ¡°For real? Where they now?¡±


    ¡°Gone.¡±


    ¡°Oh . . .¡±


    Tina sighed. That wasn¡¯t entirely true. ¡°Well, I do have one sister who still lives down here. Gwen.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? She big like you?¡±


    Tina chuckled. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Where she live? I never seen her.¡±


    ¡°She lives in Alphaville.¡±


    Paulo¡¯s mouth hung open, and his eyes grew wide. ¡°No shit?¡± he said in English, and then switched back to Portuguese. ¡°With all the rich people? Why you living here? You should go live with her!¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t quite work that way. I haven¡¯t been a very good sister. Haven¡¯t gone to see her in a really long time, so . . .¡±


    ¡°So what? That crap don¡¯t matter when you¡¯re family.¡± Paulo got up and dusted off the back of his pants. ¡°All I know is you got to be a dumbass to be hanging around here when you got a sister in Alphaville. See you later, Size Queen. I got a job.¡±


    And he ran off, back toward the rickshaws.


    Tina huffed out a laugh. The kid was right. She was a dumbass, indeed. She hadn¡¯t seen Gwen in years, but she did have an address for her. The thought of seeing her again, or rather, being seen by her again, brought on an uneasy anxiety. Of everyone, Gwen had managed to make a decent life down here after the League died. Tina didn¡¯t know exactly what she did, but she obviously earned enough to go the designer drug route for survival.


    Modeling, or something. She¡¯d seen her in ads on a billboard once. Tina had contemplated seeking Gwen out before, maybe asking her for help. But Marcos would¡¯ve eventually found her, and she couldn¡¯t risk endangering Gwen like that.


    But maybe this Doc guy wouldn¡¯t be able to.


    A surge of hope sparked adrenaline as the thought steeped. Doc was from the outside, and if he needed to coordinate with someone like Raul for support, he couldn¡¯t know the lay of the land. If she could get as far away as Alphaville, and fast, maybe she could lose him. Plus, Doc had his ¡°job¡± to do, and a deadline. He wouldn¡¯t risk wasting time looking for her. He¡¯d have to return home at some point, too. And when he did . . .


    ¡°I¡¯ll be free.¡±


    She could make it to Alphaville in less than an hour if she hurried. Tina sprang up from the ground and took off into the night.

 Part 10

    Tina spent most of the next morning crouched in the tree line opposite the driveway of Gwen¡¯s mansion in Alphaville. It was in the rural district, and thankfully far away from the big-city high-rises that dominated the downtown skyline. The sun beat down, but the trees provided at least a bit of shady relief. There was no wind to cull the humidity, however, and it clung to her skin in a blanket of oily perspiration.


    Her stomach churned, but she knew it wasn¡¯t from hunger. The cannibalization process had started again. Still, she had decided to wait until the afternoon before making a move¡ªconvincing herself it was to ensure she hadn¡¯t been followed, and that it had nothing to do with the anxiety and apprehension building within her.


    Eventually, though, she bounced across the street and up the short flight of steps to the main double doors of the single-story dwelling. Nerves shot through her already wrecked stomach as she gave a quick knock. Tense seconds passed, and doubts began to set in. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe Gwen wouldn¡¯t even want to see her, much less help her. Tina had almost convinced herself to turn about and run when the door finally opened.


    Gwen stood in the doorway, dressed in a black skirt and expensive white blouse that fit her as well as they would have a woman half her size. Tina had expected her to look different somehow, but her caramel complexion and striking Caribbean features seemed only to have improved over the years. Gwen looked stunned for a moment, but then a wide grin parted her ruby-painted lips. ¡°And where the hell have you been hiding?¡±


    Tina opened her mouth, but didn¡¯t really know what to say.


    ¡°Come here.¡± Gwen leaned in and gave her a hug. The embrace felt warm and genuine, but Tina couldn¡¯t help but feel self-conscious about how she must look and smell. She hugged Gwen back, but kept a small gap between them, trying to avoid Gwen¡¯s silky white blouse.


    ¡°Come on in,¡± Gwen said when they pulled apart, and Tina followed her through the door.

 Part 11

    Gwen¡¯s high heels clacked on the hardwood flooring as she led Tina though an entryway, large potted plants stuffed into black vases on either side. The air was cool and crisp, drying her sweat far more efficiently than her jumpsuit ever could.


    ¡°In here. I want to show you something.¡±


    Tina followed Gwen into an adjoining room that opened into an atrium. In its center were three cylindrical glass cases. Within each stood an eight-foot tall mannequin clad in jumpsuits much like Tina¡¯s own, each one personalized with the gaudy yellow, blue, and green emblems of the AWWL. Pictures of League matches lined the walls, as did trophies and mounted prize belts. It was as if ten years of her life had been crammed into this one room.


    ¡°You saved everything?¡±


    Gwen smiled. ¡°Just about.¡±


    Tina was magnetically drawn to a group shot of the entire League, hung in the middle of the room. It was from the first year, when all sixteen of them were still young, dumb, and alive. Eight heroes, and eight villains, a corny comic-book cast of eccentric names and characters: Blue Tempest, Black Widow, Laser Girl. Tina¡¯s character had been part of a villain group called the Three Queens: Size Queen, Ice Queen, and Drama Queen. Gwen had been Drama Queen, and all three of their original outfits were in the glass cases behind her.


    Tina¡¯s eyes welled up as it all came flooding back. She laughed. These were not the usual memories of short-ended deals and misery, but the good things. The thrill of the matches; the energy and adoration of the crowds, even if it was all staged. Then there were the more personal things: the camaraderie they had all shared; the close friendships; the pure excitement of being young and involved in something larger than yourself.


    To be honest, those ten years had been the best in her life.


    Tina spotted herself in the group picture, and couldn¡¯t help but compare her image to the semi-reflection of her face in the covering glass. The haircut was still the same¡ªa blonde bob parted to the side, though the blonde had silvered a bit now and was not nearly as well groomed. She was proud to say her face had aged quite well, transitioning from young girl to mature woman with a minimum of wrinkles, but it did have a few scars. The eyes had changed the most. Tina looked into that picture and wondered just who that bright-eyed young girl was, and if she would be so enthusiastic had she known what her life would become in twenty years¡¯ time.


    Twenty lost years.


    Tina owed it to her to make them up. She owed it to that young girl in the picture to try and give her life one last shot. To give herself the kind of life she deserved. Suddenly, Tina found herself crying, and wiped her cheek with her palm. She looked at all the other faces in the photo, to all her friends who were no longer there. She owed it to all of them.


    Tina sobbed, and Gwen gently rested a hand on her shoulder.


    I¡¯ll do it, she told herself. I¡¯ll live for them.


    For all those who no longer could.

 Part 12

    Gwen ran her a bath, and Tina made no effort to protest. Gwen didn¡¯t even ask her, or offer really; she simply handed her a plush synthcotton robe and pointed down the hall. For over an hour, Tina enjoyed a pleasure she had not experienced in years¡ªa hot bath in a tub where she didn¡¯t have to hang her feet over the sides.


    Once finished, she found Gwen had laid out some clothes for her to wear. Real clothes, large enough to actually fit and look good at the same time. Once she had dressed, she saw the balled up mess of blue material that was her jumpsuit lying on the bathroom floor. Tina picked it up and nearly gagged. She could now smell what she figured she¡¯d probably smelled like half the time. She thought about asking Gwen if she could wash it.


    But then, why? The jumpsuit had served her well, that was true¡ªa nanofabric able to self-mend and stretch to any size her body required¡ªbut did she really want a life that would require wearing such a thing day in and day out?


    ¡°Not anymore.¡±


    Tina tossed the jumpsuit into the garbage. That life was behind her. She¡¯d have to forge a new one to stay alive now. No matter what it took.

 Part 13

    Gwen ordered dinner in, and they swapped stories of the good old days while sipping on wine and nibbling canap¨¦s. It felt great to talk to Gwen again. It had been like being in a vacuum, living in the favela; surrounded by millions, yet completely isolated and alone. Here, she could speak freely, and in English! She could laugh. She could cry. And now, she wondered why she hadn¡¯t tried to make contact with Gwen sooner. More shame than anything, she supposed. It was big of Gwen to just welcome her in like she had, but Tina could tell that the conversation was starting to dry up. The inevitable question would be coming next.


    When there was a lull, Gwen finally popped it. ¡°So . . . what¡¯s up?¡±


    It was the kind of ¡°what¡¯s up¡± that translated into: ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    Tina hesitated at first, but decided it best not to beat around the bush. ¡°I need an out, Gwen. I can¡¯t live like I am anymore. I still owe a lot of money, but I need to find a better way to pay it off. You do modeling or something, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I do some modeling, but . . . that¡¯s not what pays the bills, hun.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to learn whatever. So long as it¡¯s legal. I¡¯m not trying to go down that road anymore.¡±


    Gwen paused for a moment. ¡°You sure you want to do what it takes for all this?¡±


    Tina nodded. She had to. Going back to the favela was no longer an option.


    ¡°All right.¡± Gwen sighed and got up from the table.


    She returned a moment later and dropped a data chip case in front of Tina with a plastic clatter. On the cover was a picture of Gwen, fully nude, along with several not as clothing-free men.


    ¡°Well, there you go. That¡¯s what I do, Tina. That¡¯s how I get by.¡±


    Tina gawked at the cover as the fairy tale that had been Gwen¡¯s life began to unravel in her mind.


    ¡°But seriously, the movies and net-sites are just like advertising. You make good money, mind you, but the real money comes once you get a name for yourself and start escorting.¡± Gwen grinned. ¡°Last weekend, I had this client. He flew me first class to Kuala Lumpur for three nights, all expenses paid, in a five-star hotel, and then gave me fifty grand on top of that. And I do maybe two or three like that a month.¡±


    ¡°That much?¡± Tina could hardly believe it. She could pay off her debt in under a year with that kind of cash.


    ¡°Look, if you want to get into it, I can get you the connections. You¡¯d be surprised how in demand we are. Fantasy fulfillment, I guess. . . . You realize how many teenage boys grew up watching us in the ring?¡± Gwen¡¯s eyes suddenly lit up. ¡°Hey, we could do a scene together. We can do the costumes and everything. You¡¯d be famous right away.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, you know I¡¯m not really into that. It¡¯s just acting. No different than what we did in the ring, right?¡±


    Gwen smiled at her, trying to elicit ascent. Tina tried her best to force a smile in return, but the thought of what Gwen was suggesting repulsed her. ¡°No, it¡¯s a heck of a big difference, Gwen, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Tina said despite herself. ¡°In fact . . . it¡¯s actually kind of gross.¡±


    ¡°All right, all right.¡± Gwen flinched back, still smiling, but Tina could tell the insult had left a sting. ¡°So it¡¯s not your cup of tea. Fine. You¡¯re the one who asked, remember?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know, but . . . you really couldn¡¯t find anything better than this?¡±


    Gwen¡¯s face grew stern. ¡°Better? Like what?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Like something . . . more normal?¡±


    ¡°You think a normal job can afford all this? The drug treatments? The custom clothes? The mortgage? And what¡¯s so bad about what I do?¡±


    Tina blew out a laugh. ¡°Come on. Are you serious? Whoring yourself?¡±


    All humor dropped from Gwen¡¯s tone. ¡°Yes, Tina. I¡¯m serious. Now, tell me, in my own home, which I¡¯ve graciously welcomed you into, why you feel you somehow have the right to judge me about how I choose to earn a living.¡±


    A flush of embarrassment ran through her as Gwen¡¯s piercing stare lingered. Glands pumped reflexively, dealing with the increased anxiety. Tina truly hadn¡¯t meant to insult her like that.


    Her and her big mouth. She was going to blow this chance already. Her last chance. ¡°Hey, look, I¡¯m really sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, you should be damn well sorry, Tina.¡± Gwen¡¯s tone was pure ice. ¡°Trying to step to me like that. Ain¡¯t nothing wrong with what I do, understand? Better than whatever the hell you¡¯ve been doing, that¡¯s for damn sure.¡±


    Tina remained fixed on her as the embarrassment edged toward agitation.


    And then she felt it¡ªthe subtle, but all too familiar, grip of control. The kind of control those with means held over those without. Marcos had used it to control her, so did Doc, and now, here Gwen was, using it, trying to control her very thoughts and opinions with her big fancy house and shitty generosity. ¡°You know what? No. I¡¯m not sorry, Gwen. And I can tell you plenty about what¡¯s wrong with what you do for a living.¡±


    Gwen blinked, shocked. ¡°What did you just say?¡±


    ¡°You think that because you show me some hospitality, I have to kiss your ass? I may have done a lot of things to survive out in the favela, but I would die before I ever stooped to what you do.¡±


    All she could think about were Marcos¡¯s girls back at the club¡ªthat stupid bitch who had laughed at her. Tina had broken the glass ceiling in her world. At least she had power and respect. No way was she giving that up to reduce herself to some rank and file whore.


    ¡°Is that right?¡± Gwen¡¯s eyes flared with hostility. ¡°Well, you got some damn nerve trying to come preach to me, when you¡¯re the one living out there in the slums, doing who the hell knows what. You think you¡¯re not whoring yourself out just like me? At least I¡¯m doing it by choice! That¡¯s right. I enjoy what I do, Tina. Do you?¡±


    Tina¡¯s skin grew hot as anger lit in her gut. ¡°I do what I have to.¡±


    ¡°So do I.¡±


    ¡°Like hell you do. You think I don¡¯t know how much those drugs cost? You¡¯re not doing this to survive. You¡¯re doing it to support your pimped-out lifestyle. You got so addicted to living like this in the League that you now think it¡¯s okay to turn tricks to keep it up?¡±


    Gwen scowled at her, breathing heavily, but didn¡¯t say anything right away. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re the one with the real League-addiction issues, you ungrateful bitch. You show up here, smelling like a sewer, wearing one of your damn costumes like you¡¯ve gone batshit crazy. Is that the real truth, Tina? Have you gone and lost your damned mind?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t even go there.¡± Her temple throbbed as her pulse increased.


    ¡°Did you forget it was all just a show? That we were just actors playing characters?¡±


    ¡°I said, shut your mouth, Gwen.¡±


    ¡°Or are you out there playing a villain for real now? Running around in your costume, causing mayhem? Beating people up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m warning you.¡± Tina looked her dead in the eye. ¡°You got no idea. Drop it.¡±


    Gwen smirked. ¡°You¡¯re a joke, Tina. A real fu¡ª¡±


    Tina stood, and her fist flew.


    Gwen let out a scream, cowering as Tina¡¯s fist stopped inches from her face.


    Tina towered over her, breathing heavily. She could smell the fear in the sweat on Gwen¡¯s brow, see the terror in her eyes. The sight repulsed her even more than Gwen¡¯s repugnant lifestyle did. So pathetic. So weak. Gwen¡¯s drugs made her body stable, but took away all the power it¡¯d had in the ring. Now, she was like any other normal woman, cowering at the faintest hint of a threat. Could she ever truly go back to being so weak again?


    And then it hit her.


    Was this what being ¡°normal¡± had become to her now? Something to be scorned, pitied, and despised? Her dream of normalcy had become just that. A pipedream. A world she had left behind and could never return to. Not because she couldn¡¯t, but because, truthfully, she didn¡¯t want to.


    ¡°No,¡± Tina said as she leaned forward. ¡°I don¡¯t just beat people up, Gwen. I kill them now, too.¡±


    Gwen trembled as tears filled her eyes.


    ¡°Was that what you wanted to hear me say?¡± Tina fought back her own tears as the pain and regret surfaced. ¡°I killed two men because my asshole boss starved me, and made my body do something I didn¡¯t want it to. And I have to live with that.¡± She swallowed back the hard lump in her throat. ¡°That, and a whole lot of other shit you don¡¯t even want to hear about. So if you want to go and screw a whole bunch of strangers to avoid doing what I¡¯ve done, then I guess that makes you the better woman for it.¡±


    Silence hung in the air as they looked at one another.


    Finally, Tina smirked and let out a huff. ¡°I suppose I owe you for teaching me at least one thing, Gwen. If a trick-turning whore like you can choose to be proud of what she does . . . then so the hell can I.¡±


    Gwen furrowed her brow and stared back blankly, incomprehensibly. She¡¯d probably never understand. She probably didn¡¯t deserve all the shit Tina had just given her, either, but to hell with it¡ªit was too late now.


    ¡°Thanks for the bath and dinner.¡± Tina turned to leave. ¡°I¡¯m keeping the clothes.¡±


    On her way out, she stopped by the glass display cases and the group picture on the wall.


    She gave her younger self an assured smile, and then toppled the cases over, breaking them open with an almighty crash. She stooped down and sorted through the mess, adding three more outfits to her new wardrobe.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Tina looked over her shoulder to see Gwen standing timidly at the far end of the room, eyes darting with fear. She could almost thank her. No way was she turning into that.


    ¡°Whatever the hell I want,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m a villain, remember?¡±


    And then she stood and stepped away, high heels clacking.


    ¡°I¡¯m Size Queen, bitch!¡±

 Part 14 (Final)

    ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    Tina flexed her back and felt it spread, the new nanomachines adding muscle fiber and synthetic armor lacing as she did so. Or at least, that¡¯s what Doc had explained was going on anyway. ¡°It tingles.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be like that for a couple of days.¡±


    They were on the roof of a two-story building, overlooking a busy side street of S?o Paulo¡¯s downtown. Blue LED lights and holograms cast an eerie glow over the expensive cars and limos cruising below.


    Tina rested her hands atop the concrete bannister lining the roof¡¯s perimeter and scanned the handful of restaurants and bars on the opposite block. Doc stood on the bannister itself, bringing him equal to her height.


    ¡°I¡¯ll add the cost to your debt,¡± Doc said with a grin. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. Depending on how good you do on this job, you could be breaking even sooner than you think.¡±


    ¡°Screw the debt. I¡¯m doing this because I want to. Blowing up a starship sounds a hell of a lot more interesting than what I¡¯ve been doing for the last five years.¡±


    Doc let out a laugh. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready for it. To be honest, I didn¡¯t come in here with much of a plan. And that was before I had to replace two of my best guys with an eight-foot tall white girl.¡±


    She chuckled and hoped he was joking¡ªbut something told her he wasn¡¯t. Running with Doc was going to be interesting, that¡¯s for sure.


    ¡°What are we doing up here, anyway?¡± He folded his arms. ¡°We¡¯re on a timeline, you know.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, this won¡¯t take long.¡±


    Below, Tina finally saw what she¡¯d been waiting for: a bald man with a thin, salt-and-pepper mustache exiting one of the bars, flanked by two goons in ugly brown suits.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± she said, and leapt up onto the bannister.


    Doc looked up at her. ¡°Where you going?¡±


    Tina flashed him a grin as she prepared to drop down.


    ¡°To kick a bag of garbage into a wall.¡±