ã€ŠNeon Dust [Progression Cyberpunk]ã€‹


 1. Opening Act

    1 ¨C Opening Act

    Tony drifted, mostly oblivious, but a voice wound its way into his ear out of the darkness, ¡°This plasma forge is bonded with the bones. We¡¯re not getting it off in one piece.¡±

    A more familiar voice, though too deep and too slow, replied, ¡°Take the arm.¡±

    The first voice came again. It was like a recording played at half-speed, but Tony was pretty sure it was Chavez. ¡°Who¡¯s the lucky SOB getting this reactor and matrix? Tier-one Dust-tech, man.¡±

    ¡°Not your problem. Not your business.¡± Somewhere in the back of Tony¡¯s mind, he wondered why Eric was talking about his gear with a stranger. Why were they talking like he wasn¡¯t there?

    ¡°And the optics? We¡¯re leaving him blind?¡±

    ¡°Leave him one. She¡¯ll be satisfied with one eye. I¡¯ll say the other was destroyed when we took him out.¡±

    ¡°We can get the auditory implants out, but his eardrums will be scarred.¡±

    ¡°Just do it! Take anything you can that won¡¯t kill him.¡±

    ¡°The wirejob? It¡¯s built into all his tendons, muscles, a synaptic mesh¡ªhe¡¯ll be a vegetable if I take¡ª¡±

    ¡°Am I talking to myself? Leave the goddamn wirejob! He¡¯s never gonna have the Dust to fire it off.¡± Somewhere in his muddled, half-conscious mind, Tony felt a flare of anger. Who was Eric so pissed at? Him? At¡­someone else? Why? What changed? Did he screw him over? As something hot lanced into his chest, the darkness pulled him down, and he lost track of the voices, his thoughts, and his feelings.

    ***

    ¡°¡­your ass up, scav. This is Helldog turf.¡± Tony felt a rough jostle, and his forehead scraped on something that felt like concrete. He coughed. God! The air was thick! He blinked, only finding darkness, and tried to activate his AUI. Nothing happened¡ªnothing but black behind his eyelids. He felt another rough shove, and his forehead scraped further over the rough ground. This time, some light came into his eye. ¡°Move, slug!¡±

    Tony groaned and flopped onto his side so his face turned toward the voice. A man who seemed more mountain than person loomed over him. He wore stained jeans, half a dozen chains, a black synth-leather jacket with a dozen colorful patches sewn into the material, and boots¡ªbig black, steel-toed boots¡ªone of which was poised to smash Tony in the face.

    He flung out his arms¡ªarm, he soon realized¡ªand barely deflected the blow so it painfully ground into his forearm and shoulder instead of his mouth. ¡°I¡¯m moving,¡± he grunted, scrabbling to his knees. He tried to push himself up with both hands, but his right arm seemed to have been truncated at the elbow.

    ¡°Hurry up, you disgusting rat!¡± The enormous man gave Tony¡¯s rump a kick for good measure. Sniggers sounded nearby, and something hot came to life in Tony¡¯s chest. Nobody treated Anthony Michael Santoro like a bum-rat scav! With great pain and stiffness, he drove himself to his feet, furious to find them bare. They took his boots? His beautiful, perfectly broken-in, synthetic alligator-hide boots? He whirled on the three ¡°Helldogs,¡± scowling.

    ¡°Keep your filthy, shit-scraping claws off me!¡±

    ¡°Ooh, listen to this gutter rat, boys! He¡¯s got a little spunk in him! Somebody messed you up, pretty boy. Better take a look in the mirror. Hah, gonna be hard with those eyes!¡±

    ¡°Good one, Beef!¡± another voice chimed in, somewhere off to Tony¡¯s right. ¡°He¡¯s still got a pretty one, though! Maybe I could use an upgrade!¡±

    ¡°Nah, runt.¡± Beef licked his thick lips with an overly moist tongue. ¡°I think maybe I¡¯ll take it.¡± The hulking fellow¡ªmore fat than muscle, if Tony were any judge¡ªproduced a switch from inside his jacket and flicked open the blade with a satisfying snick. Meanwhile, Tony held his left hand up, blinking at it. Things weren¡¯t right. He was missing an eye?

    ¡°Oh, shit,¡± he sighed, remembering the snatches of conversation he¡¯d heard while drugged up¡ªnot a dream, after all. They took his eye. They took nearly everything. He looked down at himself. He still wore his blue silk shirt, but it was torn, bloody, and stained from filth in the alley he¡¯d rolled through. His pants were in a similar condition.

    ¡°Oh shit, is right, my boy!¡± his antagonist crooned, waving the knife back and forth.

    ¡°Cut him up, Beef!¡± one of the others said, moving into Tony¡¯s view out of his missing eye¡¯s blind spot. This one was skinny and had a denim vest¡ªfewer patches, too.

    Looking past him, Tony caught his first real look at his surroundings¡ªgraffiti on every building, trash piled in the alleys, extruded concrete and plasteel buildings that had once been state-of-the-art but were now worn down and dirty from lack of maintenance, the salty, moist air, and the ever-present thick corrupted Dust mingling with the soot and smog. Tony coughed, loosening the top button at his collar¡ªwhy had they bothered with the button before dumping him? He lifted his right arm, stared at the bloody staples on the stump where his elbow used to be, and laughed¡ªmore of a choked-off mad cackle than a laugh, but it felt good.

    ¡°This guy¡¯s nuts, Beef!¡± the skinny guy hooted, though his voice was muted and echoed strangely. Tony glared at him, saw he was wearing a bulky breathing apparatus, and grinned.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that mask, runt.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Beef laughed, lunging with his shiny, narrow blade. It was a clumsy attack, but Tony figured Beef was used to sticking that blade into less-than-agile opponents. If he was where he thought he was, he couldn¡¯t imagine there were many folks around who might give Beef much trouble; the guy had to weigh three hundred pounds, and he was part of a gang. Tony figured the big fellow wasn¡¯t used to ¡°scavs¡± or ¡°scabs¡± resisting his less-than-tender, boot-heel ministrations.

    Tony had learned long ago that when you were the new guy in a rough area, you had to stand up for yourself. You had to let it be known that you were not the one to fuck with. When someone didn¡¯t get the clue, he¡¯d often found that a little display of violence was usually just what the doctor ordered. So, when Beef made that clumsy yet powerful lunge, Tony channeled some Dust into his muscles, enhancing his strength, speeding his movements, and making Beef¡¯s bulk meaningless¡ª

    Something came at him out of his blind spot and knocked his legs out from under him. When the concrete impacted the back of his head, Tony blinked at the gray sky, watching tiny stars circle and flash. How long had it been since he¡¯d seen stars like that? A boot came into view, aiming for his face, and, once again, he threw his arms up, trying to protect his good looks.

    ¡°That guy thought he could fight you, Beef! Did you see that? He¡¯s certifiable!¡±

    ¡°Smash him, Beef!¡± a new voice said, and Tony tilted his head to see the third antagonist¡ªshort, bald, with two chrome eyeballs and a tattoo on his forehead that read, ¡°REJECT.¡± It wasn¡¯t lost on him that, while stars were still floating in his vision, Beef¡¯s boot hadn¡¯t come down yet.

    ¡°Maybe I ought to let him live.¡± Beef¡¯s boot slowly came down, and the bulky man squatted, staring at Tony¡¯s face with a look of surprising intelligence in his deep-set, small, black eyes. ¡°Take a look at this guy¡¯s eye. That¡¯s some high-end chrome. Look at his skin and teeth. This rat used to be a corpo-rat.¡± The two minions giggled at the pun. ¡°What you got for me, rat?¡±

    Tony¡¯s mind was reeling, still coming to grips with the idea that nothing had happened when he¡¯d tried to activate his wire-job and fight. His pride was mortally wounded, but did he still want to live? The question wasn¡¯t entirely rhetorical; he wasn¡¯t sure he did. Could he taunt this guy into killing him? It seemed like the perfect moment if he wanted to. Still, the question tickled some memories in the back of his mind¡ªgreen eyes, long hair, soft lips, and the scents of vanilla and jasmine. ¡°Emily,¡± he whispered hoarsely.

    ¡°What¡¯s that, rat? You got something for me or not?¡± Beef flicked his switch open and closed just a few inches from Tony¡¯s face.

    Tony cleared his throat and licked his lips. He wasn¡¯t ready to die yet. He had to figure out what happened. When had Eric turned on him? Who¡¯d ordered it? Someone must have, right? The chrome, the Dust, they took everything¡ªit felt personal. The fact he was still alive said it was. Someone wanted him to suffer. God, what he¡¯d done for all that chrome. Could he get it back? ¡°My plasma forge,¡± he groaned.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s too nuts, Beef. Open him up!¡± Skinny giggled as he spoke, leaning close, peering over the top of his breather.

    ¡°Shut up, runt.¡± Beef leaned closer to Tony¡¯s face. ¡°I think he rang his bell on the concrete. Hey, corpo-rat! You wanna live or die?¡±

    Again, Tony licked his lips, trying to clear the cotton from his mouth. ¡°Live.¡±

    ¡°Hear that, boys? We got us a new rat. Okay, corpo, you¡¯re on my street, you get me? This is Helldog turf, and I run this block. We¡¯ll start easy. Earn me a hundred bits by tomorrow. You manage that, and you can keep your eye for another day.¡±

    ¡°A hund¡ª¡± Tony coughed and winced as his head throbbed. It felt like his skull was coming apart at the seams. ¡°A hundred bits? They pulled my personal AI. I can¡¯t even¡ª¡± He choked off his words as Beef poked his knife into his ribs, grinding the tip through the skin and into the bone.

    ¡°Not my problem, rat. Use a bit-locker.¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Reject said, coming around to stand behind Beef, his chrome eyes bulging. ¡°This is Beef¡¯s corner.¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Beef lurched to his feet and shoved the much smaller man back. ¡°Bring them bits here tomorrow, rat. Then we can talk about your next job. We¡¯ll be watching.¡±

    Tony just coughed, wheezing from the thick air. He had to be in the Blast. Would Eric really dump him down there? Would he rip out his Dust reactor and dump him in the dirtiest district in the entire metro area? As he struggled to get up, his mind refusing to remember that he only had one arm, he grunted, ¡°Is this¡ª¡± He coughed. ¡°Is this the Blast?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, corpo. You¡¯re a long way from stretch limos and fine ladies. Go on, now. Get to work!¡±

    Tony nodded and stumbled away from the alley toward the street, where he saw people walking, heads down. An occasional vehicle sped by, sometimes honking at the many jaywalkers. He leaned against the rough brick and looked out, squinting his good eye. He saw tall apartment buildings, but a bodega was on the corner, a pawn shop across the street, and a flower shop on the opposite corner. No one spared him a glance, but an old-timer sweeping outside the pawn shop met his eyes and, to his amazement, offered a quick nod.

    Tony checked for cars, then shuffled barefoot on the hot asphalt across the street. When he¡¯d stumbled up the sidewalk, he paused to catch his breath, leaning his good arm on his knee, looking down at his dirty, bloody toes. When had he split his big toenail? He heard the swish of the old guy¡¯s broom and looked up, squinting his eye. Why wasn¡¯t it compensating for the brightness? ¡°No PAI,¡± he groaned. Of course.

    ¡°They really did it.¡± He lifted the stump of his right arm, noting the raw, red state of the seam where Chavez had stapled the flap of skin in place. It looked sloppy. ¡°All the shit I did for that guy, and this is how he treats me? I practically paid for his yacht!¡± Grimacing, Tony straightened and pulled the top of his shirt open, loosening a button. Another big red scar met his gaze, stapled shut. As he¡¯d feared, they¡¯d taken his Dust reactor, the whole damn thing. He gingerly felt the back of his neck and, sure enough, found another raw sore¡ªthey¡¯d pulled his data port.

    After he buttoned his shirt back up, Tony prodded his teeth with his tongue. ¡°At least they left me my teeth, those rat bastards!¡±

    ¡°Double-crossed, huh?¡±

    Tony jerked his head up and glared at the old guy with the broom. ¡°You could say that.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Dumped you in the Blast with no shoes? I guess you could be glad they didn¡¯t kill you, but they might as well have. You¡¯re lucky it was the Helldogs¡¯ corner you woke up on and not the Night Ravens.¡±

    Tony sighed and pressed his palm against the throbbing scab where his right eye used to be. ¡°Gangs?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. We¡¯ve got quite a few ¡¯round here, but some are worse than others. Helldogs run this street, and I pay my protection, so don¡¯t get any ideas.¡± He moved a little closer, peering at Tony¡¯s face. ¡°They stripped you down, huh? Took an eye but left you another. Small favors, I s¡¯pose.¡±

    ¡°Look, I should probably get the hell outta here. I gotta get back to New Manhatt¡ª¡±

    The old guy laughed, shaking his head. ¡°You think they¡¯re letting a guy like you through the checkpoint? No PAI¡ªnothing? Never been to the Blast, I take it? Corps tend to discourage free travel. Boxer Manufacturing runs this part of the district, and the neighboring megas have the bridges locked down pretty tight. Takes scratch to get through.¡± He chuckled, rubbing his fingers together.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Yeah, I was relieved of my bits.¡± Tony sighed. ¡°And my Dust. Everything. I need to get a mask or something.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even have a matrix or reactor?¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°Stripped.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, kid. The Dust down here¡¯s dirty.¡± He pointed down the street, and Tony looked to see an enormous megatower in the distance, the top half of which was simply gone¡ªgirders, broken concrete, and plasteel jutting out at crazy, bent angles. Even so, the bottom third of the thing was lit up. Tony had glimpsed the tower from New Manhattan, but he¡¯d never been close enough to realize it wasn¡¯t abandoned. ¡°Piece of the Aurora Gate fell here, broke the NGT megatower in half, and blew up a fusion reactor¡ªit¡¯s why the Dust is corrupted down here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know the story,¡± Tony sighed. Everyone knew the origin story of Dust, and the Blast was just a footnote. Persephone, a benevolent AI that destroyed Horizon Net, another AI, in a bid to save humanity from enslavement or extinction¡ªit was never clear¡ªhad created a gateway to another dimension in her space station, Aurora Gate. Nobody knew if she¡¯d intentionally destroyed herself and left the Dust as a gift or if the Dust or something on the other side of the gateway had done her in. Whatever the case, she was gone, and the Dust remained.

    He realized he¡¯d zoned out, and the old guy had kept talking, ¡°¡­grows faster here than in other places. ¡®Course, it¡¯s all corrupted, and there are so many other places for the megacorps to harvest it. It¡¯s too expensive to purify it, you see? So¡­¡± He shrugged.

    ¡°So it just gets thick in the air and messes up people¡¯s DNA.¡± Tony sighed.

    ¡°Nah, most everyone has a matrix and a reactor. If not, like you said, there¡¯re breathers that¡¯ll protect you for a while.¡± He pointed toward the pawn shop. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few. You can borrow one.¡±

    Tony squinted, looking at the shop behind the old guy. The sign above the door read ¡°Bert¡¯s Parts and Pawn.¡± He nodded at the window. ¡°You¡¯re Bert?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yup. That¡¯s me.¡± Bert smiled and waved the broom toward the door. ¡°Come on. I¡¯ll see if I can find you a breather.¡± He walked inside, and Tony looked up and down the street. Straining his eye in the opposite direction of the broken megatower, he tried to catch a glimpse of New Manhattan, but the smog, haze, or whatever it was down there was too thick. He followed Bert inside.

    When the door closed behind him, Tony paused, examining the store. It was a typical low-tech pawn shop¡ªelectronics, a few guns, clothes, and jewelry, but also racks of electronics components, motor parts, and other odds and ends. ¡°So, you¡¯d really let me borrow a breather? I don¡¯t think I can repay¡ª"

    Bert chuckled and waved his arm, cutting Tony off. ¡°Sure I will, but you¡¯ll owe me.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Tony smiled. ¡°I was waiting for the catch. Look, uh, Bert, they took my data port, my PAI, everything. I don¡¯t have a single bit to my name. I was, um, gonna try to get out of here and see if I could cash in an old favor or two from some of my contacts in the city.¡±

    Bert came around a rack of second-hand data terminals, holding a breathing apparatus that looked very well used. He had a kind face, with big, rosy cheeks, a short white beard, and long gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. His brown overalls were worn, but Tony could see they were clean. The evidence of many patches with neat stitching told him that Bert was a man who took pride in doing a job right. The shop echoed the sentiment; it was crowded but neat. The floor was clean, and nothing was dusty. ¡°You really think that¡¯s an option?¡±

    Tony thought about it for a few long, hard seconds, then shook his head, looking down. ¡°Nah. The people that did this to me,¡± he gestured to his eye and held up his stump, ¡°don¡¯t leave loose ends. My friends are either dead or turned against me.¡±

    ¡°So, what kind of options do you have?¡±

    Tony laughed bitterly. ¡°I dunno, but I better think of something ¡®cause Beef and his boys expect a hundred bits tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Bert chuckled and tsked. ¡°I wondered why they let you go with such a light beating.¡±

    ¡°Light?¡± Tony groaned, rubbing the lump on the back of his head. ¡°I¡¯m concussed, for sure.¡±

    ¡°Tell you what, youngster, I can use some help around the store for a while. Not sure I can afford to pay you many bits, but I¡¯ve got a few things you could probably use.¡±

    Again, Tony peered around the place, noting the neatness, the cleanliness, and, most importantly, the lack of customers. He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think you need help, sir, but I appreciate the kindness.¡±

    ¡°Okay, maybe I¡¯m getting by all right, but you know what? I didn¡¯t always use to be such a success story.¡± He grinned and leaned against his counter, setting the breather aside. ¡°You don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t have my own ¡®Bert¡¯ giving me a break when I needed it? You just got stripped, dumped in the Blast, and nearly killed by bangers in less than what? Twenty-four hours?¡±

    ¡°When you put it like that¡­¡±

    Bert shook his head, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to get some dirt or grime off his palms. ¡°If you don¡¯t take a helping hand from me or someone else¡ªmaybe Preacher Kennedy on the next block¡ªthen you¡¯ll be dead by morning. Mark my words.¡±

    ¡°So¡­?¡± Tony rubbed his right shoulder, the pain of his recent amputation finally starting to set in now that the adrenaline of his rude awakening was fleeing his system.

    ¡°So, I live upstairs, but I¡¯ve got a cot in the storeroom. You work for me for a while, and I¡¯ll pay you with room and board, and I¡¯ll throw a few things in along the way, like, instead of this old breather, how about I get you hooked up with my daughter¡¯s old Dust reactor and matrix? They¡¯re not worth much, but they¡¯ll keep the Dust out of your system.¡±

    Maybe it was Bert¡¯s kindness, or maybe he was still crashing from whatever drugs those assholes had pumped him full of before they dumped him, but Tony felt the world start to spin, and he had to squat down and put his hand on the well-worn industrial tiles to hold himself steady and keep from toppling. ¡°Th-thanks, Bert. I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Tony blinked, furious to think there was moisture in his eye.

    Suddenly, he felt a big, warm, steadying hand on his shoulder. ¡°Easy, kiddo. You''ve been through the wringer. Let¡¯s get some water in you, and I¡¯ve got a tracksuit for sale here that you can change into. Some sneakers, too.¡± Bert glanced toward the back storeroom door and added, ¡°My daughter should be down soon. I bet I can get her to introduce you to Doc Peters.¡±

    ***

    Adelaide Florence Jones stared at herself in the mirror and willed the stupid pimple that sat squarely in the center of her brow to melt into nothingness. No matter how she stared, how she scowled, or how she threatened the dumb thing, it refused to fade. The pimple wouldn¡¯t be such an issue if her Gonzo¡¯s vanilla-beige vanishing stick weren¡¯t missing, but no matter how she¡¯d tossed her room, she couldn¡¯t find it.

    Of course, it didn¡¯t help that she¡¯d been chased¡ªagain¡ªon the way home from the city council building the afternoon before and hadn¡¯t realized her backpack was halfway open until she¡¯d taken it off in her room. She could only imagine all the precious little items that had bounced out along the way. ¡°Stupid bangers!¡±

    Groaning in frustration, she pulled her thick tangle of wavy brown hair away from her face, tying it in a loose ponytail so she could better administer what few beauty products she could come up with¡ªa tiny dab of foundation around the swollen red lump, a dusting of powder, a little blush, and finally, some simple lip balm. She nodded and reminded herself, ¡°I¡¯m an investigative journalist, not a model!¡±

    Thus, prepared for her day, she left her room for the apartment¡¯s other living space¡ªa kitchen and family room that doubled as her father¡¯s bedroom. She always felt a twinge of guilt when she looked at the convertible sofa, but he insisted on his daughter having the only bedroom. What could she do? ¡°He¡¯s a good dad, isn¡¯t he, JJ?¡±

    ¡°Albert Jones is the greatest man alive,¡± her PAI¡¯s tinny voice replied, repeating the line she¡¯d taught it nearly five years prior.

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± As she poured herself some cereal, Addie could hear the muffled sounds of conversation from downstairs, and she wondered who was in the shop with her dad. Sometimes, Mr. Nguyen came over from the bodega on the corner to ¡°shoot the breeze.¡± Depending on whether or not his wife was minding the store, his visits could last anywhere from five minutes to the entire afternoon. ¡°JJ, what time¡¯s my interview?¡±

    ¡°Your interview with the Royal Breeze Apartment manager is at twelve-thirty. His words were, ¡®I might be available, I might not. Come after lunch.¡¯ You told him¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good, JJ.¡± Addie sighed and took a bite. It was hard work getting people to talk in the Blast, but someone needed to tell their story. The corporate news never reported on any of the crimes down there, and there was plenty to go around. Didn¡¯t she owe it to the people of District Seventeen to tell their story? ¡°Somebody has to!¡±

    Addie took a few bites, thinking about her latest scoop. One of the banger gangs, the ¡°Red Thumbs,¡± was extorting the residents of the Royal Breeze Apartments¡ªnothing new in the Blast. Everyone paid someone for protection; even her poor dad had to give the Helldogs a weekly stipend, but the people living at the Royal Breeze were paying three different gangs now! Mr. Saito, a man she¡¯d interviewed just two days ago, claimed his protection payments were more than his rent.

    ¡°Display my Dust status.¡± A grainy, flickering window appeared in her vision:

    Dust Purity: Impure -

    Dust Capacity: 22/30

    ¡°Enough for an interview. How¡¯s my data storage?¡±

    ¡°You offloaded your data last night, so your drone should have the capacity for twelve hours of video and audio.¡±

    Addie put her bowl in the sink and walked over to her backpack. Her only truly valuable belonging had survived her flight through the district unscathed. Still, she was nervous that it had been damaged in the scuffle, so she decided to do a diagnostic run. She lifted out the black, egg-shaped plasteel container¡ªsupposedly almost identical in size to an ostrich egg¡ªand said, ¡°JJ initiate Dust link.¡±

    ¡°Initiating.¡± As always, Addie felt her Dust reactor begin to hum at the center of her chest. She felt the weird, tingling, pulling sensation as it sent Dust down the matrix that traversed her major arteries, and then her awareness expanded as she connected to the little drone¡¯s Dust engine.

    Addie didn¡¯t have to know any commands or push any buttons; she just wanted the drone to activate, and it did. She felt it drawing the Dust through their link, and suddenly, it was hovering in the air before her, and she could see what it could see¡ªthree-hundred-sixty degrees of high-res video feed. She moved it around the room, up to the window, zoomed, panned, and then returned it to her hands. ¡°Sever the link and show me a Dust report.¡±

    Dust Purity: Impure -

    Dust Capacity: 22/30

    ¡°Nice. Didn¡¯t even use a unit.¡± Addie tucked her drone into the pack, slung it over her plain navy T, and then walked over to the door, where she slipped her feet into her sensible canvas and memory-gel sneakers. ¡°Ten o¡¯clock, JJ. Let¡¯s go give Pops an early lunch break, then we can head over for the interview.¡±

    JJ didn¡¯t answer; he wasn¡¯t a very good conversationalist, but Addie liked to talk to him anyway. She¡¯d never had many friends, just a couple of kids from the block that she¡¯d grown up with, but both were gone now¡ªone fled the city for greener pastures when she finished her corpo-sponsored secondary school, and the other was dead, killed by bangers for, as far as anyone could discern, his shoes and his new data port. There were other young people in the neighborhood, but none she was too friendly with. Addie considered herself a loner, and she was okay with it.

    At the bottom of the stairs, she burst into the shop¡¯s storeroom, and the muffled voices clarified. Her father was saying, ¡°¡­give Peters these bottles of anti-bac, and he¡¯ll install that arm for you. We¡¯ll call it a month¡¯s advance for your services.¡±

    ¡°A month?¡± Addie didn¡¯t recognize the voice¡ªyoungish, a little rough. Who the heck was her dad hiring for a month? Did he pick up another stray?

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯d say that¡¯s a deal. Don¡¯t forget the matrix and reactor! They might be old, but they¡¯ll save you a lot of trouble down here in the Blast.¡± Addie didn¡¯t know what her father was getting into, but it sounded like trouble. Was he getting shaken down by a new enforcer? She pushed through the swinging stockroom door and saw her dad talking to a tall stranger wearing dark sunglasses¡ªthey still had the tag hanging off the side. He was sitting on a stool, leaning an elbow on the counter, and her dad stood across from him, chuckling, flexing an old cybernetic arm as though to demonstrate its functionality.

    They both turned to her when the door swung shut and, as always when he saw her, her father¡¯s face broke into a massive smile. ¡°Adelaide!¡± He turned to the stranger, ¡°Tony, I want you to meet my daughter!¡±

    The stranger nodded, staring at her through the dark glasses. He didn¡¯t stand or wave or even say anything, but he turned slightly, and Addie saw his missing arm. She shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Um, hi.¡± She looked at her father. ¡°Are you hiring him for something?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you heard that? Yes, I am! Tony¡¯s going to stay here a while. I¡¯ll set up a cot for him in the storeroom. In return, he¡¯ll clean, watch the store so I can take a few breaks, and, heck, we could use a little extra security.¡±

    ¡°Security? Is Beef changing your deal?¡± Adelaide hated using the enforcer¡¯s street name; she remembered when he¡¯d been a chubby street kid named Randal.

    ¡°No, nothing like that. Still, this place is getting worse every day, and I don¡¯t like you going out, stirring up trouble. Tony might be a little banged up, but it¡¯s better than you walking around alone. How many times have you been chased? One of these days¡­¡±

    ¡°Dad! We talked about this!¡± Addie folded her arms, scowling. ¡°I¡¯ll never get to the heart of a story if I¡¯ve got some thug lurking around intimidating the witnesses!¡± The stranger cleared his throat and shifted slightly, turning to gaze out the front window. He had short black hair, kind of wavy or feathered on the sides; it looked like a professional style job, but he was all banged up¡ªyellowing bruises around his eye, scrapes on his cheekbone, and even his ears had dried blood on them. ¡°Not to mention, he doesn¡¯t exactly look tough.¡±

    ¡°Tony¡¯s not a thug, honey, and he doesn¡¯t have to look tough. Having someone walk with you is a lot different than being a woman alone on these streets. You know I¡¯m right. Besides, he knows how to act with people. He was corpo in the city once upon a ti¡ª¡±

    ¡°Corpo? Seriously? Gross!¡± Addie didn¡¯t try to hide her hostility, but it didn¡¯t matter. The stranger¡¯s lip quirked up slightly in a half-smile, but other than that, he didn¡¯t react.

    ¡°The point is, my dear, na?ve, sweet, justice-seeking daughter, that this man knows how to behave. He¡¯s not a banger, trying to work as muscle. Now, stop embarrassing me! If I want to hire him, I will. I can¡¯t force you to bring him along when you go out, but I¡¯d sure appreciate it. Heck, if you don¡¯t want him, at least he¡¯ll be here! He can watch the store, and I¡¯ll keep you company.¡± Her father turned to the stranger, holding out the black metal and plastic arm. ¡°Right, Tony?¡±

    The stranger turned, regarded her through those dark lenses for another few seconds, then turned to her father and nodded, taking the arm. ¡°Yep.¡±

    Adelaide stared at him, then her dad, and shook her head. ¡°This is so weird! How long have you known this guy, Dad? You¡¯re just going to let him live in the shop? How¡¯d that work out for you with Benny?¡± Before he could answer, she glared at the stranger and said, ¡°JJ ping his PAI.¡±

    ¡°No PAI found,¡± JJ announced through her auditory implant.

    Her dad sighed, stepping over and resting one of his big, warm hands on her shoulder. ¡°He was robbed, sweetie. They took everything, even his PAI. Listen, I might just be a dumb old pawnshop owner to you, but I know people, okay? Benny only took enough food for a couple of meals. He could have cleaned us out! He was desperate. You¡¯ve never had to feel what that¡¯s like, but I have. This man will work for the things I¡¯m giving him. Now, honey, before you go around doing your thing this afternoon, I want you to take Tony over to see Doc Peters. Take the pushcart, ¡®cause Tony¡¯s going to give him some¡ª¡±

    ¡°Anti-bac. I heard you telling him.¡± Addie scowled at the stranger. ¡°You know, we aren¡¯t exactly rolling in bits around here. Those glasses and that tracksuit could¡¯ve bought us dinner if my dad sold them! That anti-bac is worth¡ª¡±

    ¡°Adelaide, you¡¯re being rude!¡± Her father¡¯s hand slid off her shoulder, and he scowled. Everyone knew Bert Jones was a sweetheart, but he had a temper you didn¡¯t want to ignite. Addie wasn¡¯t afraid of him¡ªnot like that¡ªbut she didn¡¯t want him to be angry, either.

    ¡°Fine. You get my point, right, Mister?¡± The stranger just nodded as though he agreed but didn¡¯t have anything to say about it. ¡°Ugh! Fine. Get the electric cart; it¡¯s in the storeroom.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you, Tony. We need to get Adelaide¡¯s old Dust engine and matrix, too.¡±

    Addie snorted. ¡°Seriously? Those things are eight gens out of date¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re better than nothing. You want him to get his DNA warped?¡±

    Addie frowned, slowly shaking her head. There were already plenty of dustheads, fades, and warps around the district. It was hardly ever pretty. ¡°No, s¡¯pose not.¡±

    Her dad smiled and clapped his hands. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. While I get the cart loaded with Tony, will you please go up and get me the sandwich I left in the fridge last night?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Addie frowned at the one-armed stranger again, looking at her clock and thinking. Finally, she sighed and shook her head, but her words were more positive. ¡°All right. Be ready to leave in five minutes, Tony. I have an appointment at lunchtime.¡±

 2. Settling a Beef

    2 ¨C Settling a Beef

    Tony held the handle of the electric pushcart while Bert rolled the two heavy drums of anti-bac onto its cargo sled. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of antiseptic.¡±

    Bert nodded, leaning against his workbench. ¡°It¡¯s the good stuff, too. The drums plug right into the autodoc, and let¡¯s just say I¡¯m happy to know Peters will have ¡¯em. He runs a free clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s been using saline solution the last few weeks.¡±

    Tony felt another wave of vertigo and leaned forward on the cart, letting it take his weight as a cold sheen of sweat dappled his brow. He felt like hell¡ªlike he was coming down off a weeklong bender and, in a suddenly sober state, was finding out he¡¯d been in a car accident and beaten nearly to death. The pain in his head was spiking, and with each thump of his heart, he felt a throb of pain in his arm and an answering echo in his eye socket.

    ¡°¡­probably should have Addie talk to ¡¯em. She¡¯s known Beef her whole life; I¡¯m sure she can work something out for you.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Tony wiped his brow on the sleeve of his new-to-him tracksuit. It was comfortable, and though it had baby blue stripes, it was primarily black, and he didn¡¯t mind it at all.

    Bert narrowed his eyes. ¡°You listening to me?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Tony coughed and shook his head. ¡°Bert, man, I¡¯m not trying to be rude, but I think whatever narcs those assholes shot me up with are starting to fade. I¡¯m hurting bad.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I should have seen it. Come on, kid, come sit over here.¡± Bert turned and shoved some boxes out of the way so he could reach a cot and mattress he had standing up in the corner. He set the frame on its legs, dusted the mattress, and then flopped it down. ¡°Here, sit down, Tony.¡±

    Tony didn¡¯t argue; he walked around the cart, nearly tripped over a couple of boxes, and practically collapsed onto the cot, leaning forward, his head between his knees. ¡°My head¡¯s pounding, boss.¡± The ¡°boss¡± came naturally to him; he¡¯d always had one, and, sure, Bert was a hell of a lot different than Jennifer Stavros, but he was his boss now. The sooner he came to grips with the current state of his affairs, Tony figured, the sooner he could start to change them.

    ¡°Hang on. I think I¡¯ve got something.¡± Tony heard the stocky old guy rummaging through the cabinets that hung over his workbench. ¡°Got a stim with an analgesic they gave me when I had my hip replaced.¡± Another cabinet door opened and slammed, and then he said, ¡°Aha!¡± Tony looked up to see Bert holding a small, red auto-inhaler. ¡°They warned me this can be addictive, but I think there are only three or four more doses. You should be all right. I¡¯d tell you to sleep it off, but that arm looks bad. I want you to have Doc Peters check it out.¡±

    The door leading to the narrow stairwell opened and slammed shut, and Tony turned to see Bert¡¯s daughter there, holding a plate. His mouth began to water the second he saw Bert¡¯s sandwich and chips, but he looked down before anyone noticed his longing gaze. Bert handed him the inhaler, and he grunted, ¡°Thanks again, Boss.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Adelaide peered at him, her dark brown eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. ¡°What¡¯s that, Dad?¡±

    ¡°Just something for his pain, honey.¡± Bert waved the question off, but Tony caught the worry in her eyes before Adelaide looked away. He could tell she didn¡¯t like him, and he couldn¡¯t really blame her. He¡¯d come into her dad¡¯s shop without a bit to his name¡ªwounded, dirty, and dumped by people who weren¡¯t exactly upstanding citizens. He sighed and sucked a breath through the inhaler. It hissed, and a minty spurt of heaven sank into his lungs.

    ¡°Ah, Jesus, that hits the spot.¡± He could almost feel his pupil contracting as energy and euphoria rushed through him. The throbbing in his eye faded, and, with it, the blinding headache he¡¯d been coping with. He could hear Bert and his daughter talking in hushed voices, but the words didn¡¯t click for him; it was just noise.

    He stared at his hand, watching as the trembling slowly faded. He fixated on the blood and dirt under his nails¡ªthe scrapes on his knuckles. Were they from the pavement? Had he fallen on his fist? Had he hit someone? He couldn¡¯t even remember what had happened when they¡¯d nabbed him. Shaking his head, he slammed the door on those thoughts and taped a mental notice on it: OPEN LATER. Tony stuffed the inhaler in the front pocket of his tracksuit and stood up.

    ¡°¡­really don¡¯t think it¡¯s such a good idea.¡±

    Bert shook his head. ¡°Peters will clean up that arm when he installs the cybernetic one.¡±

    Tony saw his moment to interject. ¡°I feel much better, Bert. Thanks.¡± He tried to smile reassuringly at Adelaide, but she looked away, folding her arms as she shouldered her way through the swinging door.

    Her voice drifted back to him, ¡°Come on then, Tony. I guess I have to talk to Randal for you, too.¡±

    Tony arched his eyebrow at Bert, glad he was still wearing the shades the old shopkeeper had given him¡ªwouldn¡¯t want his new boss to see how stoned he looked. Bert nodded and gripped his shoulder with his big, meaty hand. ¡°She¡¯s talking about Beef.¡±

    ¡°Ah, the banger.¡± Tony grabbed the handle of the hand cart and started trying to direct it toward the swinging door. He couldn¡¯t get it to turn, not with just one hand. ¡°Bert, if you¡¯ll get this thing turned around for me, I can probably drive it forward all right.¡±

    Bert watched him for a minute. Then, as though he, too, had been distracted by deeper thoughts, he suddenly sprang into motion. ¡°Oh! I didn¡¯t think of that! You¡¯re not used to one arm, are you, partner?¡± He rushed over and brushed Tony aside. ¡°I¡¯ll get her out of the shop for ya.¡± With that, the old guy deftly maneuvered the hand truck out of the stock room, the little motor whirring as it went. Tony sighed, glanced at the empty sleeve where his right arm used to be, and followed.

    Adelaide was at the sales counter, loading his ¡°new¡± arm into a canvas bag along with the box containing the old Dust reactor and matrix Bert had given him. She didn¡¯t look happy. As Bert drove the cart past her, Tony paused at the counter, awkwardly tapping the surface. ¡°Hey, uh, I know you¡¯re worried I¡¯m taking advantage of your pops or something, but I want you to know I¡¯m gonna make it up to him¡ªall this stuff he¡¯s giving me.¡±

    She looked up at him, and, to his surprise, the smile she offered seemed pretty damn genuine. ¡°I believe you believe that, Tony. You¡¯re on a very long list of people who¡¯ve felt that way about my dad, though, and the list of people who¡¯ve actually managed to pay him back is a heck of a lot shorter.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡ª¡± Tony tried to run his fingers through his hair, but all he did was lift his stump like he was trying to wave or something. He sighed and shrugged. ¡°I guess I can see your point of view.¡± With that, he walked to the door where Bert was wriggling the cart back and forth to get the central wheel over the lintel.

    He followed the older man out, pushing the shades up on his nose when the sun streaming through the smog threatened to burn his suddenly sensitive retina out. He snorted at the thought; his Aurora Tech iris implant was supposed to compensate for pretty much anything up to and including flashbangs.

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re laughing!¡± Bert slapped his shoulder again. ¡°Glad you¡¯re feeling better. That stim¡¯s pretty good, isn¡¯t it? I started to really crave it after a few days. I mean, following my surgery. Had to buy a new bottle of rye to bribe myself to stay away from it.¡± He laughed, shaking his head. The door squeaked, and he turned to look at his daughter. His laughter suddenly faded into a faux growl as he dramatically scowled at her. ¡°Addie! Turn that frown around, or I¡¯m going to embarrass you with a big slobbery kiss!¡±

    Tony looked at Addie standing in the doorway, and for the first time, he saw the resemblance between her and Bert. It was in the eyes, especially when they both glared at each other the way they currently were; they had the same angle to their eyebrows, and they both had wide, bright blue eyes. Maybe it was the stim, but he laughed when he saw them facing off that way.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Addie shifted the bag on her shoulder and broke off the staring contest. ¡°I¡¯m glad you got your new buddy to laugh, Dad.¡± She brushed past Bert and pointed across the street. ¡°Follow me, Tony. First stop is to talk to your banger friends.¡±

    Tony watched her go for a minute, then turned to Bert. ¡°She¡¯s pretty mad.¡±

    ¡°Nah, she¡¯ll cool off. She thinks I¡¯m a dummy, always forgetting I grew up in this district, too. I¡¯ve had a few folks take advantage of me, but plenty of the folks I¡¯ve helped out have paid me back ten-fold. I¡¯ve been on this street a heck of a lot longer than these gangs, and I know how to take care of myself. Still, it¡¯s good she¡¯s protective¡ªI think.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± Tony confirmed. ¡°It means she cares.¡± He squeezed the grip on the cart¡¯s throttle, and it started whirring toward the corner. ¡°See you in a while, Bert.¡±

    ***

    Addie hurried across the street, lugging the heavy bag. She¡¯d wanted to throw it on the cart, but that would have interrupted her dramatic exit. She hated it when her dad made light of her genuine and very well-placed concern. He was so corny! Who threatens to kiss someone to embarrass them? It felt like she was frozen in time as a seven-year-old to her father. Was that normal? She glanced over her shoulder to see Tony struggling to turn the cart at the crosswalk.

    ¡°Oh, brother,¡± she sighed, feeling a little guilty. Yeah, he was hopped up on drugs, but he had just lost his arm. ¡°Not for long,¡± she muttered, glancing down at the bag and cybernetic prosthesis it contained¡ªanother gift from her overly generous father. To be fair, she couldn¡¯t see Bert selling that arm anytime soon. He¡¯d taken it on trade, and it had been hanging with a handful of other cybernetic parts in the shop since¡­ ¡°Last Halloween?¡± The question was rhetorical; even her father wouldn¡¯t know for sure.

    She looked up the alley where Beef and his cronies usually hung out and saw them leaning on an old pallet, passing around a chemstick. She watched for a minute, giving Tony a chance to catch up. Jerry sucked on the stick, blowing out a cloud of blue vapor as he coughed and wheezed. He passed it to Beef, and Addie decided she should interrupt before he was too high to remember talking to her. ¡°Randal!¡±

    Beef lowered the stick and turned to stare down the alley. ¡°What?¡±

    As she heard the cart¡¯s whirring motor approach, Addie adjusted the bag and trudged up the alley. ¡°I need to talk to you about Tony.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Who¡¯s that?¡±

    Addie jerked her thumb at Tony. ¡°This guy.¡± When Beef¡¯s puzzlement only seemed to grow, Addie added, ¡°I think you beat him up earlier? Doesn¡¯t he owe you a hundred bits or something?¡±

    ¡°Oh shit, boys! Look who it is! Corpo-rat!¡±

    Jerry, or as he¡¯d permanently labeled himself on his forehead, ¡°Reject,¡± laughed and pointed, ¡°Oh shit! Nice tracksuit, Rat! Looks like you¡¯re moving up in the wor¡ª¡± His voice choked off in a grunt when Beef elbowed him in the gut.

    ¡°Quiet. Hey, Ads, what¡¯re you doing with Corpo-rat?¡±

    ¡°Randal, he works¡ª¡±

    ¡°Beef! Ads, why won¡¯t you call me ¡®Beef¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Um, because it sounds idiotic?¡± Addie stepped closer, and she could hear Tony following close behind with the cart. ¡°Anyway, Beef¡ª¡± Why not humor him? ¡°¡ªthe corpo-rat¡¯s name is Tony, and he works for my dad now. He¡¯ll pay the hundred bits he ¡®owes¡¯ you when he earns it, but after that, you need to leave him alone. Okay?¡±

    Beef folded his enormous arms over his bulging belly. ¡°Tony, huh? I dunno, Ads, I let him go with a pretty valuable eye; I was gonna make him pay me back for it over the long haul.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not exactly your eye, Beef. C¡¯mon, be nice about it. He¡¯s going to pay you the hundred. That¡¯s a good show of respect, right?¡± Addie used her ¡°sweet¡± voice, the one she always put on with her schoolmates-turned-bangers, of which, she, unfortunately, had far too many.

    ¡°Well, I suppose I can let the corpo-rat slide.¡± His thick lips twisted into a sly smile, and he leaned forward to more easily look into Addie¡¯s face; Beef was close to two meters tall, and she was quite a lot shorter. ¡°I mean, supposing there¡¯s a little something in it for me, that is.¡±

    Addie folded her arms over her chest. ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Well, how about you let me take you over to Marzetti¡¯s for a little dinner? I could¡ª¡±

    Addie felt her neck start to get hot. Not this again! ¡°It¡¯s not gonna happen, Randal.¡±

    ¡°Why not? You¡¯re single! It¡¯s not like this street¡¯s crawling with guys trying to take you on dates. I heard about your run-in with Domino¡¯s gang yesterday. I don¡¯t suppose they were trying to treat you to a fancy dinner!¡±

    ¡°You heard about that, huh?¡± Addie felt the heat spreading from her neck to her cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you did anything about it?¡±

    ¡°They stopped chasing you when you got to our turf, didn¡¯t they? If I retaliate for every¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, forget it! Anyway, I¡¯m not going out with you. I hardly know this guy.¡± Addie jerked her thumb at Tony. She didn¡¯t look at him, so she had no idea how he was taking things, but she didn¡¯t care. ¡°Why would I put myself on the line for him? You know my dad! You owe him. He¡¯s vouching for Tony, so you gotta settle this, all right?¡±

    Beef glared at her for a long, quiet moment, during which Addie could hear Lonny¡¯s labored breaths hissing in and out through his filtration mask. After deliberating the matter, Beef turned his glare on Tony. ¡°I want those bits by the end of the week. We clear?¡±

    ¡°Like diamond-coat.¡± The casual tone and turn of phrase caught her off guard, and she turned to look at Tony. She was a little surprised by the steadiness of his voice and his forward-leaning posture. Wasn¡¯t he being a little too confident for a guy who¡¯d just been rolled for everything he owned, including a limb? She supposed it could be chalked up to the stim.

    ¡°Thanks, Randal¡ªer, Beef.¡± Addie flashed him her most winning smile and then continued past the trio of bangers. ¡°We¡¯re going to Doc Peters.¡±

    ¡°Tell him I¡¯m coming by tomorrow. He still owes me for last week,¡± Beef called after her.

    Addie felt the heat creeping up the back of her neck again. ¡°He¡¯s practically a charity, you know? He gives away more than he earns already!¡±

    ¡°Hey, Ads,¡± Beef held his palms up and shrugged helplessly, ¡°I just do my job. If I don¡¯t turn in my collections, it comes outta my hide. Capiche?¡±

    Addie hmphed and turned, continuing down the alley. She heard the bangers tease Tony about being a ¡°corpo-rat¡± as he followed. She was halfway to Garnett Street when Tony cleared his throat and called out, ¡°Hey, thanks.¡±

    Addie slowed, stepping to the side so she could walk beside the cart. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ve known Randal since we were both in Boxer Primary.¡±

    ¡°Boxer? That¡¯s the big corp around here, huh?¡±

    ¡°Boxer Manufacturing Industries.¡± Addie nodded. ¡°They make a little bit of everything.¡±

    ¡°They in the, uh, NGT building?¡± Tony jerked his chin in the direction of the broken megatower.

    Addie nodded. ¡°Their corporate offices are, but they have a warehouse and a couple of factories on the district''s south side.¡±

    ¡°That all that¡¯s in that thing? The broken mega tower?¡±

    ¡°No. It¡¯s full of apartments, a flea market, a park¡ªeven a shopping mall, but half the floors are closed down. Lots of banger activity and quite a few dustheads on some of them.¡±

    ¡°Dustheads, huh? Don¡¯t see many in New ¡¯Hattan.¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°We get all kinds down here: dustheads, zippers, fades, warps. A few folks will claim to be glints and gleams, too. We have a woman on our street who says she can read your future ¡¯cause of the Dust.¡±

    ¡°That right? I had a girlfriend who made me pay a small fortune so she could sit with a guy like that in the city.¡±

    Adelaide scoffed and hurried her steps, moving ahead of the cart again. What was it with some people constantly feeling like they had to one-up everyone else? This guy couldn¡¯t buy a mystery meat hotdog, and here he was bragging about spending stacks of bits on a fancy girlfriend. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think of something to say but didn¡¯t give him a chance. She pointed to the corner ahead. ¡°Doc Peters is on that street. Just a bit farther, Tony.¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± he called, twisting the throttle on the cart to jog closer, ¡°you mentioned glints and gleams¡ªyou ever seen a spark?¡±

    Addie slowed and turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve heard people tell stories but never seen one. I¡¯ve got a video my friend sent me, but I think it was AI-genned.¡±

    ¡°I saw one once. It was either the real deal, or she had some tech that might as well have been magic it was so good.¡±

    Addie turned the corner, waving to Mr. Rodriguez as he walked by with a sack of groceries. His head was down, though, his collar up, and he didn¡¯t return the gesture. She paused to look quizzically at Tony again. ¡°Are you just trying to impress me? Trying to make up for your¡­state?¡±

    He barked a short laugh. ¡°Nah, you made me think of it, that¡¯s all. This spark, she could make wings sprout out of her back¡ªlike, fairy wings made of light and dust. She could fly! I mean, it could have been tech¡ªsome anti-grav device with a Dust engine, but she swore she was just burning pure Dust. She did other stuff, too¡ªillusions and fire and tricks that made you think she might have teleported. It was all cool, but those things could¡¯ve been magician¡¯s tricks, you know? But when I saw her fly¡­¡± Tony¡¯s words trailed off, and he tilted his head, staring up into the sky through the sunglasses her father had given him.

    ¡°How high are you?¡± Addie chuckled and turned, leading the way to the clinic. He never answered her, and by the time he wheeled the cart into the office, he looked ready to pass out. ¡°Sit down, Tony. I¡¯ll tell the doc what¡¯s up.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Tony moved around the cart and collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs lining the wall. He was one of seven people waiting for the doctor, but Addie didn¡¯t take a number; she pushed the cart up to the reception desk.

    ¡°Hey, Tonya. Got some stuff for the doc here.¡±

    The woman behind the counter looked up from the pad she was studying. Her eyes were a little glazed and dry-looking, and Addie knew she¡¯d been jacked-in. She was a little older than Addie, with very curly black hair and a much more liberal belief in makeup. Her crimson lips curled in a smile when she saw Addie, and she blew a bright pink bubble with her gum before saying, ¡°What¡¯s on the cart?¡±

    ¡°Some anti-bac. I mean, a lot of it.¡± Addie gestured to the door leading further into the clinic. ¡°Can I see the doc?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s in a procedure.¡± Tonya blew another bubble, looked down at her datapad, then waved a hand toward the door. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

 3. Medical Care

    3 ¨C Medical Care

    Tony watched the girl at the counter wave Adelaide through, then leaned back in the hard, plastic seat, closing his eye as he tried to let the latest wave of nausea and throbbing pain roll over him. Was it too soon for another hit of the stim? He almost chuckled at the idea. He¡¯d known plenty of jittery operators who regularly used similar substances. Honestly, it was a little hard to believe that he¡¯d never hit an inhaler quite like the one Bert had given him¡ªit was serious business. He could see how someone could get hooked.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, dummy,¡± he whispered as he began to bounce his leg up and down, using the motion to distract him from the pain. ¡°You¡¯re at the clinic. Just hang tough and see what the doc says.¡±

    ¡°Yo,¡± a guy to his left said. ¡°You better take a number before someone else comes in.¡±

    Tony opened his eye and blearily looked around the room. Sure enough, a big red LED sign on the far wall read D77, and he could see a check-in kiosk near the door. Had Adelaide said anything about that? Did he space it? ¡°Thanks,¡± he grunted, nodding to the guy¡ªmiddle-aged, dark skin, dreads in a loose, knit cap, clothes that looked like he¡¯d slept in ¡¯em. Tony stood and walked over to the kiosk and began filling in his information:

    Name: Anthony Santoro

    DOB: 07-21-2089, Age: 29

    Insurance: NA

    Payment Method:

    Tony frowned, looking at the options: Sol-bits, Boxer-bits, Other Major Corporation Currency, Dust, Other. Shrugging, he selected ¡°other.¡± The box beeped, the camera flashed, startling him, and a high-pitched, androgynous voice said, ¡°Thank you! Your number is D92.¡± After a brief pause, the machine hummed and spat out a paper ticket. Tony fumbled his grab as it began to fall toward the floor¡ªdepth perception with one eye was no joke. He leaned over, almost fainted, and snatched up the ticket. Woozily, he made his way back to his seat.

    ¡°You ain¡¯t looking too hot, sport,¡± his neighbor remarked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not feeling too hot.¡± Tony closed his eye and leaned back, resting his head on the plasti-sheet wall. The guy didn¡¯t say anything else, but Tony heard some of the other people in the waiting area talking.

    A little boy was sniffling, and his mother was worried he had Dust poisoning. A young woman was in tears, talking to someone through her PAI¡ªit sounded like it must be her boyfriend because she was mad that he was missing ¡°another wellness check-up.¡± An old guy was grumbling to his wife, saying they were wasting time, but she was worried about his joints¡ªhow would he keep working if he could barely walk?

    All in all, the snippets of conversation were a nice reminder that he wasn¡¯t the center of the universe. He wasn¡¯t the only one who was having a shitty day. He smirked, though, wondering if anyone else could boast that they¡¯d been stripped of upwards of two million Sol-bits worth of Dust. Tony wrapped the stray thought up, stuffed it into a box, and then tossed it through the door, where he¡¯d locked up his memories of Jen and Eric. He didn¡¯t have the bandwidth to deal with that kind of regret and anger¡ªnot yet.

    The door behind the receptionist opened, and a wheelchair emerged, carrying a young man who looked half-conscious. His eyes were sunken, and his flesh so wan and yellow that it looked like a cheap synthetic knockoff. A slender, gray-haired guy with a high-end scientific visor and wearing a blood-stained white smock pushed the chair.

    As soon as the guy was clear of the door, he let go of the handles, waved to a woman sitting nearby, and said, ¡°He¡¯ll be good to walk when the sedatives wear off. Make sure he does! Mobility is the key to getting those new organs working.¡±

    The woman wiped tears from her eyes, and in Tony¡¯s opinion, they looked joyful. She stood to take charge of her husband, brother, or, heck, maybe son. The doctor smiled and nodded at her, then scanned the waiting room and let his opaque lenses settle on Tony. ¡°Tony?¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah.¡± Absurdly, Tony felt his heart rate speed up and a little anticipatory excitement, like he was a kid waiting to be picked for a streetball team.

    ¡°Come on back, I¡¯ve got your¡­results.¡± Clearly, the doc was trying to forestall a riot by calling him back ahead of the other folks in the lobby. Still, the grumbling was thick in the air as Tony stood and hurried through the door behind the doctor.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said when he was through the door, and it swung shut behind him.

    ¡°Not a problem. Addie told me about your situation, and those anti-bac canisters will more than cover a simple install.¡± The doctor had very precise diction, and as he scanned his weird, black-lensed visor with its little sensor and camera nodules over Tony¡¯s half-empty track-suit sleeve, he tsked and put a friendly hand on Tony¡¯s shoulder, guiding him down the hallway. ¡°Come on, we¡¯re going to have to prep the install site; whoever amputated your arm didn¡¯t do you any favors.¡±

    Tony had to laugh at the comment. ¡°No, doc, I don¡¯t think they were trying to help me out.¡±

    The doctor chuckled, shaking his head grimly, then gestured to a pair of plastic swinging doors. ¡°My operating theater.¡± When he pushed his way through, Tony had to hold his elbow to his nose; the coppery scent of blood and something like a mix between shit and a dead rat almost made him gag. ¡°Sorry about the smell. My last patient needed a bowel replacement, and the medical waste bin is a touch too full.¡± He gestured to a big red and white barrel in the corner, and Tony grimaced at the dark smears on the top and sides.

    ¡°Jesus, doc.¡± He looked around the room and saw overfull trash bins and three autodoc tables, all of differing makes and clearly of vastly disparate capabilities. One of them looked to be forty or fifty years old. He caught a glimpse of Adelaide in the corner, dragging one of the anti-bac canisters over to the table there.

    ¡°Here, go over and sit down on the autodoc in the corner where she¡¯s loading up the anti-bac.¡± Peters pointed to the stainless table equipped with half a dozen robotic arms, all sporting different tools¡ªfrom a circular saw to a wide-gauge needle to a compression cuff.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Adelaide tugged a rubber hose out from the densely packed innards of the autodoc, trying to pull it toward the nozzle of one of the anti-bac canisters. She looked up with a red-faced grimace as Tony approached. ¡°His assistant called in sick.¡±

    Tony was still holding his sleeve to his mouth and nose, and he nodded emphatically. ¡°I can see why!¡±

    ¡°They mostly volunteer; they¡¯re used to the, uh¡ª¡± Adelaide turned her face down into her shoulder and coughed, sucking in a deep breath through the fabric of her T-shirt. ¡°Smell!¡±

    Seeing her like that, red-faced, struggling to help despite being grossed out, Tony remembered she was only there for him and felt a surge of guilt. ¡°Hey, let me do that. You don¡¯t need to be in here.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I was supposed to get a mask.¡± She paused, frowning at the hose she clutched. ¡°Yeah, Tony, you do this. I¡¯ll go grab us a couple of masks.¡± She jumped up and strode toward a big white cabinet by the sink, and Tony bent to try, one-handed, to do what ought to be a simple task but seemed daunting in his current state. Luckily, the tank was heavy, and it held still while he grasped the hose and pressed it to the nozzle, putting his weight behind it. With a hiss and a click, it popped into place.

    ¡°Hey, you got it!¡± Addie presented a white medical mask, and Tony took it, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible.

    He hooked one strap over his left ear, then pulled it over his mouth and nose. It was made of some kind of paper and smart-gel blend and almost immediately made a pretty tight seal against his skin. ¡°You¡¯re a rockstar, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not in here for you, Tony, so don¡¯t get your wires twisted. I volunteered to help out for a little while when I saw Peters running around like his eggs were on fire.¡±

    ¡°His, uh, eggs?¡±

    ¡°You know, like when you put too much powder in the oil and the burner flares up?¡±

    Tony used his hand to leverage himself up onto the stainless table. ¡°I think you and I have very different ideas about how you¡¯re supposed to fry an egg.¡±

    Adelaide crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head as she regarded him. ¡°You really are from ¡¯Hattan, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°You thought I made it up?¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°C¡¯mon, have you looked in a mirror? Still, I can see that left eye of yours is pretty special, and you have a casual way of mentioning stuff¡ªfry an egg? Really? Like a whole egg?¡± She shook her head again, her right eyebrow cocked up at an impressive angle.

    ¡°Adelaide!¡± Peters called her from the other side of the operating ¡°theater,¡± where he was struggling with the barrel of medical waste. ¡°Let me get this loaded on your sled, then you can drive it out back for me! There should be an empty one by the back door!¡±

    ¡°Oh, brother. Good thing these masks are filtered.¡±

    ¡°You want me to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! You look like you¡¯re about to faint. Just let the doc do his thing.¡± She paused, staring at his face, and Tony realized his shades had slipped down while he¡¯d been leaning over the anti-bac canister. ¡°You lost your eye, too?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if ¡®lost¡¯ is the right word.¡± He shook his head, his lips quirking into a wry grin.

    Addie looked at him like his lunacy might be contagious, then turned and hurried over to help the doc. Tony sat there reflecting on his ability to make light of his predicament. Had he gone over the edge? Was he cracked? Considering all he¡¯d been through, it seemed possible he¡¯d finally snapped some noodles.

    ¡°I mean,¡± he said to the autodoc, ¡°they pulled my whole data port. Maybe they took some brains out by mistake. Sometimes those synthetic nerves go pretty deep.¡± His grin turned into a chuckle as he laid back on the stainless table, staring up at the spider-like surgical arms.

    ¡°How are we doing, Tony?¡± The voice startled him, and Tony jerked his face to the right where the doc stood in his significant blind spot.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m cracking up.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised at some transient delirium, considering these readings.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Tony caught a flicker of movement above him and saw that the autodoc was moving a bulb of glass that flickered with multiple LEDs back and forth over his body.

    ¡°Yeah, they did a number on you, huh? Looks like you had quite a robust Dust matrix pulled out and not delicately. Is the wound on your chest where your old Dust reactor was?¡±

    Tony tried to touch the sore spot under his tracksuit but just flapped the empty sleeve over his chest. He tried again with his left hand, gingerly prodding the tender flesh. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Was your arm natural?¡±

    ¡°Just my forearm, but only partially; I had a chrome hand and a plasma forge mounted to the bones.¡± His ¡°chrome¡± hand had been high-end, too¡ªbones stronger than plasteel but flesh that looked as real as any natural skin. He could punch through bricks with that hand, but why would he when he had a tier-two plasma forge?

    ¡°Well, the good news is that they left most of your nerves intact, especially in your eye; that significantly cuts down on the expense if you get a prosthetic.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m broke, doc.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, got that impression. Well, let¡¯s start with what we can; I¡¯m going to clean up these extraction sites and prep your arm and chest for the hardware Bert sent over. I¡¯ll go ahead and sedate you ¡¯cause this autodoc isn¡¯t gentle, and I¡¯ve got other patients to see to. When it¡¯s done with the prep work, do you want me to go ahead and do the installs? I need you to verbally confirm for legal purposes.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡±

    ¡°And what, exactly, am I installing? Again, I need you to say it.¡±

    ¡°The, uh, cybernetic arm and old-ass Dust reactor and matrix.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re okay with the install site for the reactor being your chest? As you know, the more marrow it has access to, the more effective its transmissions. I¡¯ve done them in femurs, too, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just put it in the old hole.¡±

    ¡°Sternum, got it. And you consent to me feeding the Dust matrix into your arterial system via the femoral artery?¡±

    Tony sighed. ¡°Whatever¡¯s easiest, doc.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. Now, the arm Bert sent over is a full arm replacement. It can be modified to attach at the elbow where your amputation took place, but I could also go ahead and remove¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nah, let me keep as much of my arm as you can, please.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem. The arm has all the adapters. I¡¯ll be able to tie your muscles and nerves into the provided synthetic grafts.¡±

    Tony sighed and closed his eye. He was a little surprised Peters was being so careful; he¡¯d been to chop docs plenty of times, and they usually cut first and asked questions later. Of course, it was the first time he¡¯d been on the table in a place like that, so he was more than a little grateful for the doc¡¯s concern. He chuckled, images of Chavez¡¯s spa-like clinic flashing through his mind. Oh, man, if Eric could see him on this bloody, stainless table! The humor quickly turned to anger as he reminded himself he was there because of Eric.

    ¡°Any questions or concerns?¡± Peters asked, snapping him out of his dark reverie. Once again, Tony boxed up the emotions and stuffed them into the storage room he¡¯d built in his mind.

    ¡°Can you do anything about the throbbing in my eye socket?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I can help with that. I¡¯ll clean it up and give you something topical, so you don¡¯t have to drug yourself up with Bert¡¯s old inhaler.¡± When Peters saw Tony¡¯s confused scowl, he added, ¡°Addie mentioned it, but only out of concern.¡±

    ¡°All right, Doc. Push ¡®play¡¯ or ¡®enter¡¯ or whatever you do on these machines, and let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    Peters chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s not quite that easy. Take off your tracksuit top, though; there''s no sense in letting the machine rip it off. I¡¯ll start the sedation protocol, and when you wake up, you should be feeling a lot better.¡±

    Tony obliged, unzipping the tracksuit and pulling his arm and a half out of the sleeves. He handed it to the doc and then laid back, shivering involuntarily as the cold stainless touched his bare shoulders. Peters hung the jacket over a stainless stool nearby and returned to the autodoc¡¯s control panel. A moment later, two of the arms whirred into action. One hooked a blood pressure cuff around his left biceps, and the other attached to his lower arm at the elbow, where it skillfully and nearly painlessly inserted an intravenous tube.

    ¡°Okay, Tony, countdown from twenty, and by the time you get to one, I¡¯ll be waking you up, and you¡¯ll be feeling a lot better.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡± Tony forced a smile, then began counting, ¡°Twenty¡­nineteen¡­eighteen¡­¡± He felt something cold rush into his arm. ¡°Seventeen¡­six¡­six-uh-six¡­¡±

 4. Recovery

    4 ¨C Recovery

    Addie looked at the clock on her AUI, saw it was 11:32, and said, ¡°JJ, if I¡¯m walking, how long will it take me to get to the Royal Breeze Apartments from here?¡±

    ¡°If all goes well on your route, you will require seventeen minutes to reach the Royal Breeze Apartments.¡±

    Addie smiled ruefully at JJ¡¯s caveat: ¡°If all goes well.¡± All too often, all did most decidedly not go well in the Blast. She shifted in the marginally more comfortable, slightly padded chair that Doc Peters kept in his recovery room. There were four beds in the room, three of which were occupied, but she was only interested in the one before her. ¡°Should I wait for him?¡± she asked, keeping her voice very low to avoid waking any of the other unconscious patients.

    ¡°According to his chart,¡± JJ said, naturally assuming the question wasn¡¯t rhetorical, ¡°Tony is a twenty-nine-year-old man. It would not be unreasonable to assume that he can find his way back to your father¡¯s store.¡±

    ¡°True.¡± Addie nodded and then sighed, slumping down in the chair. Was she really going to take advice on human behavior from JJ? The dummy couldn¡¯t tell sarcasm from rage, let alone how Tony might feel if he woke up alone. What if he didn¡¯t remember something? What if he didn¡¯t remember anything? He¡¯d been drugged before her dad gave him the dodgy inhaler. ¡°I should¡¯ve thrown that thing out! Well, to be fair, I didn¡¯t know he saved it¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t understand¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not talking to you, JJ.¡± After a moment, she said, ¡°Message the apartment manager. See if he¡¯s going to be free to talk today.¡±

    ¡°Message sent.¡±

    ¡°Mmph,¡± Tony grunted, shifting under the thin, gray blanket Doc Peters had thrown over him. Addie watched as he lifted his cybernetic right arm and rubbed his face. The blanket caught in the exposed actuators near his elbow, and he unwittingly dragged it to the side, where gravity took over and pulled it to the floor.

    ¡°Oof,¡± he said, holding his hand before his face, mechanical fingers splayed. They had little rubbery pads on the fingertips, and Addie was pretty sure Tony could feel things with them, but when she stood to look at his face, all she saw was confusion in his left eye. A clean white bandage mercifully obscured his other socket.

    ¡°You waking up?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Huh. It works all right,¡± he said by way of answer, clenching and unclenching the black, plasteel fingers. He reached down and gently probed his chest where Addie¡¯s old Dust reactor sat. Only a tiny chrome circle was exposed at the center of his swollen red flesh. She knew, from experience, that it could be programmed to display his Dust level in LED digits or, if he installed a mod from the city net, he could get it to display a tiny image of whatever he wanted.

    She leaned a little closer. ¡°You remember everything?¡±

    He shifted to lift his head a little and peer at her through that uncanny silver iris. His dark brows drew together, and his lips cracked in a smile. ¡°Hey! Adelaide.¡±

    ¡°Oh, good. I feared I¡¯d have to explain to my pops that his new project had lost his mind.¡±

    ¡°Is that what I am? A project?¡± Tony pushed himself up into a sitting position, his mechanical arm clicking and whirring softly as he gripped the rail on the side of the bed. He winced a little and let go, reaching over with his other arm to massage the area where his flesh met the synthetic, black, rubbery skin at the arm¡¯s cuff. ¡°A little tender.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Peters said you should take it easy for a few days. He gave you a Tri-Norovan implant that¡¯ll last about a week.¡±

    ¡°For infection?¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°Infection and rejection. He thinks you¡¯ll accept the synth materials, though.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve had no problems in the past.¡± Tony coughed and shifted his legs to the side of the bed. ¡°Can we stop for a soda or something on the way back?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got drinks at home.¡± Addie stepped closer. ¡°I have an appointment, remember? I¡¯ll drop you off on the way, though.¡± She grabbed his jacket from the foot of the bed and held it out to him.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± He pushed his arms awkwardly into the sleeves, and Addie resisted the urge to try to help. In fact, she forced herself to look away; something about seeing him shirtless made him more real and less temporary in her mind.

    She wanted to ask what kind of work he¡¯d done when he¡¯d been a corpo drone because she didn¡¯t think most corpo-rats had muscle definition quite like that. Maybe he was one of those pretty boy narcissists who spent half their day in the gym and the other half at a salon. Maybe he¡¯d been a high-end escort! Addie¡¯s mind spiraled down strange avenues as ideas bloomed like fireworks. Could he be a source? Could he have an interesting story? If it got people to click on her page, maybe it would boost some of the more important stories from the district. If¡ª

    ¡°If you¡¯re late, I can find the way. I¡¯ll bring the cart back.¡±

    Addie, startled out of her fantasies, saw that he¡¯d zipped up the jacket and was stepping into his sneakers. A moment later, he stood before her¡ªloomed over her was a better description. She looked up at him and arched an eyebrow. ¡°How do you seem taller?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get this close to me before. Do I need to see the doc?¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s busy saving someone¡ªgunshot wounds.¡± She gestured to the door. ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Where¡¯s the cart?¡± He started for the door, quietly moving past an unconscious woman who¡¯d just had some tumors removed from her lungs.

    ¡°Take a right in the hallway toward the back door. The cart¡¯s in the alley.¡±

    Tony nodded, and then he was gone¡ªout the door¡ªand Addie was hurrying to keep up; was he feeling so much better after a little medical attention and just about ninety minutes of sedation? Shouldn¡¯t he feel even more groggy? When they reached the alley and started toward the street with Tony driving the little electric cart, she said, ¡°Peters told me you had a fancy wirejob.¡±

    Tony looked over his shoulder at her, tilting his head quizzically. ¡°Seems like a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll find a court to hear your case in this district.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, the wirejob¡¯s useless to me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he said it was tier-one.¡± Addie was fishing¡ªsomething that came naturally to her¡ªbut she wasn¡¯t sure what she was fishing for, exactly. He¡¯d already admitted to being an ex-corpo. He¡¯d already told them that he¡¯d been betrayed, stripped, and dumped. If he¡¯d had tier-one gear, though, that was certainly an interesting angle. A full-body wirejob like that would cost a fortune.

    Tony sighed and shrugged. ¡°Probably not enough Dust in this neighborhood to fire my wirejob for more than a couple of seconds.¡±

    Addie frowned. ¡°Is it the quantity or the quality? I know we¡¯re all running some dirty Dust in our reactors down here. I mean, unless we buy extra. I bought five units of refined Dust once, and it lasted me almost a week, using my drone for a few hours every day.¡±

    ¡°You know the answer: it¡¯s some of both. The dirtier the Dust, the more work the reactor goes through to use it, and the less juice it gets out of it. Anyway, this reactor and the matrix you gave me will keep the Dust out of my blood, but there¡¯s no way it could output enough to fire up this wirejob.¡±

    ¡°So, forgive my inquisitive mind, but why¡¯d whoever stripped you down let you keep that wirejob? Why¡¯d they leave you with an eye, for that matter?¡±

    Tony reached up to touch his bandaged eye with his new, mechanical fingers, and then he looked sideways at her again. ¡°Now you¡¯re getting to the good stuff. I¡¯ll be honest, though¡ªI¡¯m trying not to think about those things ¡¯cause I can¡¯t afford to be pissed off in my current situation.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± His words didn¡¯t compute for Addie; when she had an emotion, she felt it. There was no putting it off for later.

    ¡°Yeah. I gotta deal with the present.¡± He smirked. ¡°Maybe you didn¡¯t notice, but I¡¯m not in a good position to be plotting my revenge.¡± The cart whirred and thumped as he pushed it over a speed hump. They¡¯d taken a different alley to avoid Beef and his cronies, and as Tony pushed the cart onto the sidewalk, Addie saw her dad standing outside the shop, chatting with Mr. Nguyen. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s your dad.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± Addie lifted her arm to wave, and her father, as always, waved back.

    Tony did much better with the cart now that he had two arms and even managed to hop it over the curb so they didn¡¯t have to walk to the corner. Her father jostled Mr. Nguyen. ¡°There they are! I was getting worried, Addie!¡±

    ¡°Seriously? We were like a block and a half away. Anyway, here¡¯s your new employee, feeling much better, I¡¯d say.¡± Addie gestured expansively at Tony like a showgirl at a fancy car show. Tony sighed and fished in his pocket for the black sunglasses her dad had given him.

    ¡°Donny, this is the young man I was telling you about. Tony, this is Donald Nguyen; he owns the bodega on the corner.¡±

    Tony stepped forward and held out his new mechanical hand. Mr. Nguyen, always cheerful, smiled hugely as his eyes widened. ¡°Oh! This is it! The arm from your shop, Bert! Haha! You finally got some value out of it!¡± He took Tony¡¯s hand and pumped it up and down. ¡°Nice to meet you, Tony. Hey, hey! If things get too slow around here, I could use a tall guy like you to help stock shelves now and then!¡± He let go of Tony¡¯s hand and turned back to Addie¡¯s dad. ¡°Or! Or, Bert, how about he can watch my store a couple of times a week so I can spend a little time with Nancy before she goes back to school?¡±

    ¡°Easy, Donny,¡± Bert chuckled, ¡°It¡¯s his first day. Let¡¯s let him settle into a routine for a little while.¡± Addie had heard enough. She started for the door, but her dad wouldn¡¯t let her slip away that easily. ¡°Where you going, Addie?¡±

    ¡°I have to get my drone. I have an interview in half an hour.¡± Again, she started through the door.

    ¡°Hold up a second! Did you hear about the shootout? There¡¯s more than one gang cruising, looking for payback!¡±

    Addie whirled. ¡°Not against me, dad! The Helldogs know me and most of the others nearby, too. Even Domino doesn¡¯t hassle me.¡±

    ¡°Plenty of others would love to stir trouble up by messing with a local girl like you! Where¡¯s your interview?¡±

    ¡°Royal Breeze Apartments, and I need to leave if I¡¯m going to make¡ª¡±

    ¡°Reschedule it, honey. Things are too hot right¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dad! We live in the Blast! It¡¯s always too hot! These stories need to be told; we¡¯re invisible to the rest of the city, and that¡¯s not okay! You know the guy I interviewed the other day? Mr. Felix? He¡¯s paying seven hundred bits a week to keep the gangs from tossing his place, beating him up, or worse! Boxer Corp doesn¡¯t do anything, but I¡¯m getting more and more clicks! I have to keep growing my page, and I can¡¯t do that if I don¡¯t keep posting stories! You know what happens if you let your page stagnate? You lose followers, and they stop sharing. People tune out!¡±

    ¡°I know the metro net has a harsh algorithm, honey, but your safety¡ª¡±

    ¡°I could go with her,¡± Tony said, his voice almost too calm and steady to be heard amidst the heated back and forth. Even so, Addie¡¯s father froze momentarily and regarded the tall, near-stranger in his borrowed tracksuit.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a little worn out?¡±

    Tony grinned and tapped the center of his chest. ¡°Nah. This Dust reactor is cleaning my blood and sending some juice to my nanites. I¡¯m feeling much better.¡±

    Mr. Nguyen did a comical double-take, his eyes wide. ¡°Na-nanites?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I have a medical nanite battery in here.¡± Tony thumped his mechanical fist against his right thigh. ¡°I don¡¯t think the guys who stripped me knew about it. It¡¯s nothing too special¡ªhelps me heal a little faster than usual, cleans toxins, and whatnot. It wasn¡¯t working ¡®cause it¡¯s powered by a Dust engine.¡±

    ¡°Well, no offense, Tony,¡± Addie¡¯s father said, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better, but what are you going to do if there¡¯s trouble?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Tony looked from Bert to Addie and then back again. ¡°I mean, I can probably run twice as fast as she can. If nothing else, I¡¯ll distract the bangers so she can get away.¡±

    ¡°Twice as fast?¡± Addie felt her neck growing hot. ¡°I don¡¯t think so!¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Mr. Nguyen slapped his hands together. ¡°I like it!¡±

    Addie shook her head and turned to her father. ¡°I¡¯m going. I¡¯m not a little kid¡ªyou can¡¯t stop me, Dad.¡± She paused when her father¡¯s face fell; she hated playing that card with him. They¡¯d gotten into the same argument too many times, and she¡¯d threatened to move into her own place too often for him to really push the matter. Still, she felt guilty, so she decided to throw him a bone. ¡°If you want your new employee to follow me, I won¡¯t stop him. I¡¯m leaving in two minutes.¡± With that, she pushed her way into the store and stomped upstairs.

 5. Noodles

    4 ¨C Noodles

    Tony watched the shop door close behind Adelaide, the bells strung on the handle jingling gently against the sounds of traffic in the distance. Bert was quick to comment, ¡°She¡¯s driven, my Addie. I can¡¯t hold it against her ¡®cause I raised her that way.¡±

    ¡°I sure hope something comes of all those stories she¡¯s posting.¡± Mr. Nguyen patted his friend on the shoulder, adding, ¡°You know, if half the people in the district cared as much as she does, we¡¯d have a much different place to live in.¡±

    Tony reached up to gently scratch around the bandage over his eye, wondering what he¡¯d just volunteered for. ¡°She, uh, posts stories?¡±

    ¡°News stories!¡± Mr. Nguyen nodded enthusiastically.

    ¡°Her grandma was a journalist¡ªone of the last to get chased out of the Twin Cities before the end of the AI war. Addie grew up wanting to be like her, even chased after a few scholarships by some of the corpo-news outlets, but she got disillusioned pretty quickly when she found out how all that works.¡±

    Tony coughed, a sour taste left over from his surgery in his throat, and spat on the pavement. ¡°Uh, ¡¯scuse me. Corpo spin? Fake stories to sell the latest pharma breakthrough?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you get the picture.¡± Mr. Nguyen smiled and glanced at the shop, lowering his voice. ¡°Now she¡¯s trying to stir things up like the real newsies.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Tony nodded, beginning to get the picture. ¡°The independents. The local journos.¡± He hadn¡¯t been living under a rock. As the pub nets got bigger and bigger, spreading to suburbs and nearby cities, people said it was starting to feel like the old ¡°internet,¡± like what existed before the AIs got loose.

    Bert jammed his hands into the big pockets of his overalls. ¡°Yep. Lotta people on the nets these days. Easy to get heard if the algo doesn¡¯t bury you. ¡¯Course, that just makes me worry¡ªif she fails at this¡­ I worry about her, you know? Then, if she is successful¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have even more to worry about.¡± Tony frowned grimly. He¡¯d heard plenty of stories about independent journos getting the wrong kind of attention from the corpos they were trying to expose.

    Before anyone else could comment on the nature of her business, Adelaide burst through the door, sending the little bell jangling wildly. Tony saw an addition to her ensemble¡ªa battered gray backpack with half a dozen old patches stitched onto the sides. He could only make out some of them¡ªslogans like ¡°Unfiltered, Unafraid,¡± and ¡°Truth Never Sleeps.¡± She started down the sidewalk, taking long, quick strides. When he realized she wasn¡¯t going to pause or say anything, Tony glanced at Bert, and the old guy just shrugged.

    ¡°Wait up!¡± he called and jogged after her.

    She glanced over her shoulder, ¡°You¡¯re coming? Sorry, I¡¯m running late.¡±

    Tony chuckled. ¡°C¡¯mon, you knew I was coming.¡± She hurried around the corner, and Tony caught a new vista of the district. Nearby, the buildings were similar to those on Bert¡¯s street¡ªlots of two and three-story buildings, with a few taller ones intermixed¡ªbut further down, some much larger buildings began to fill the skyline, and further still, Tony saw a couple of megatowers in the haze. ¡°Those aren¡¯t in the Blast, are they?¡±

    Adelaide shook her head. ¡°District eighteen.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the big story?¡± Tony sidestepped a man sitting on the sidewalk, panhandling. His cardboard sign had a Sol-bit address and a handwritten note that read, ¡°My dog needs surgery. Please Help!¡±

    Adelaide glanced at Tony, her thick ponytail bouncing with each of her long strides, ¡°Well, extortion, I guess.¡±

    ¡°As in?¡±

    ¡°Protection rackets. Typical stuff around here, only this apartment complex has three different gangs taking a cut.¡±

    ¡°And people don¡¯t just move?¡±

    Adelaide gave him a sideways look, her eyes narrowed. ¡°Think it¡¯s that easy?¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not. Not for some people. Everywhere you go in the district, you¡¯re going to be on someone¡¯s turf, so nobody¡¯s guaranteed something better if they move out. More than that, some people at the Royal Breeze are afraid of retaliation; the gangs don¡¯t like losing the income. Then you¡¯ve got some folks trying to lie low, afraid of background checks. Some people have to live there because of employment contracts nearby, and there are people who¡ª¡±

    ¡°Easy, Adelaide. I was just curious, and, yeah, you¡¯re right¡ªI¡¯ve never lived in a district like this. I understand overbearing contracts, though. I understand feeling like you¡¯re stuck. So, here¡¯s hoping you can help somehow.¡± Tony tried his best ¡°friendly¡± smile, but Adelaide narrowed her eyes further.

    Still, she surprised him by saying, ¡°You can call me Addie. I know my name¡¯s a mouthful.¡±

    An auto-cab stopped nearby, and two youngsters dressed like wannabe bangers jumped out, sprinting for an alley. On an external PA, the cab announced, ¡°Attention: A crime has been committed. Attention: A passenger conflict occurred in this vehicle. Attention: Please be wary; dangerous individuals have fled this vehicle¡ªauthorities have been notified.¡±

    ¡°Those boys were probably fighting.¡± Addie nodded toward the black and lime-green vehicle. Tony figured she was right¡ªnobody else was paying the cab any mind.

    ¡°Probably be a drone here soon. Come on, I¡¯m late!¡± She started moving again, and Tony followed. The foot traffic in District Seventeen was much lighter than in Manhattan. He had no trouble keeping an eye on her, even if he fell several steps behind. Half the ground-floor storefronts they passed were vacant, and more than half the people they passed looked like they¡¯d be more at home under a box than in an apartment. The district wasn¡¯t in great shape.

    He tried to assess the risks as Adelaide led him from one corner to another; he stared at the groups of men and women lingering on stoops and tried to put himself between the young woman and the clusters of people they passed, but she went so fast, and he was so new to the area, that he doubted he was doing any good. He just didn¡¯t know exactly what to look for. Adelaide, however, did. Twice, she abruptly guided him down alleys, saying things like, ¡°Trouble ahead.¡±

    After the second such detour, Tony observed, ¡°You don¡¯t need me around.¡±

    That got a smile out of her, and Adelaide looked up with those big blue eyes and winked. ¡°I¡¯ve been on my own on these streets a long time. Don¡¯t get me wrong, though¡ªI¡¯ve had some close calls.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think your name¡¯s a mouthful.¡± Tony¡¯s idiot brain supplied the words to his tongue before he had a chance to review their tardiness.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I was going to say that earlier when that cab started going off. I¡¯ve never met another ¡®Adelaide,¡¯ so I think it¡¯s cool. I¡¯ve met a lot of people with my name.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Adelaide said, adjusting the straps of her backpack as they hustled down yet another street, ¡°you¡¯re my first ¡®Tony,¡¯ so take heart.¡±

    ¡°Heh, okay. But I bet you¡¯ve seen other ones, like on vids or on documents or whatever. Shit, isn¡¯t there a ¡®Tony¡¯ on the BrightStar corpo board?¡±

    ¡°Tony Lafore.¡± Addie nodded and chuckled.

    ¡°See? I¡¯ve never seen an Adelaide on a vid, the news, nothing.¡±

    Addie looked at him and grinned. ¡°I¡¯m actually not even named after a person.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, my grandma was from Australia, and I guess there¡¯s a town there called Adelaide.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Tony frowned, wishing he had a data port and a PAI to go along with it. ¡°Can¡¯t look it up right now. Pretty strange being so disconnected. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s all sunk in yet.¡±

    Addie slowed to a stop and turned to look him full in the face, her brows betraying her concern. ¡°I keep forgetting what happened to you last night. It feels longer, doesn¡¯t it? I already felt a little guilty for bullying my dad about coming to this interview, and now I feel guilty about making you tag along. I¡ª¡±

    Tony waved his hand. ¡°Nah, this is better for me. If I were back at your dad¡¯s store, I¡¯d have to deal with the reality of things. This lets me push it off a little longer. Maybe I¡¯ll be tired enough to sleep tonight.¡±

    ¡°Were you serious about the nanites? They¡¯re Dust-tech?¡± Her tone had changed as she asked the question, and Tony felt like he was hearing her ¡°interview¡± voice.

    ¡°Yep. If they weren¡¯t, I bet they would¡¯ve butchered my leg for ¡¯em¡ªthe bank¡¯s in my femur.¡±

    ¡°But, why wouldn¡¯t they? I mean, even though they¡¯re¡ª¡±

    ¡°Move, dumbass!¡± Someone large and bulky shoulder-checked Tony and sent him stumbling toward Addie. He whirled on the aggressor, expecting a fight, but the guy had trundled on, head down, giant earmuff-style headphones jutting out from a dark knit cap. He wore an army-green trench coat and didn¡¯t spare even a sideways glance at Tony¡¯s stormy expression.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him.¡± Addie pulled his sleeve, tugging him out of the flow of traffic and into the shadow of a nearby building. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to adjust your tolerance for hostility down here, Tony. People are generally either very friendly or openly rude; there¡¯s not a lot in between.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Tony took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated on one of his favorite memories¡ªsitting in a garden, watching his mom pot some wild pansies that had grown in the moist soil. He always thought about that memory when trying to cool off, and it always worked. He only wished he knew where it took place. He figured he was five or six years old, and he could see his mother like it was yesterday, but he¡¯d never lived anywhere with a garden like that. Not that he could recall.

    ¡°Where¡¯d you go?¡±

    ¡°Just counting to ten. Sorry about that. Anyway, the nanite bank¡ªI¡¯m pretty sure I know the doc who chopped me up; he did most of my work. He didn¡¯t do the nanite bank, though, so he wouldn¡¯t have known to look for it. If he took out my Dust reactor first, that would have powered down the nanites, and the bank is made of synthetic bone. I¡¯ve seen it on a scan; it looks like I had a bad break. I figure he didn¡¯t know what he was leaving behind.¡± Tony rubbed his hands together like he was wiping off some dirt.

    ¡°Too bad for the bad guys, huh? Dust-tech isn¡¯t cheap, and medical nanites? That¡¯s a pricey piece.¡±

    Tony grinned. ¡°That¡¯s right. Too bad for the bad guys. Hey, aren¡¯t we gonna be late?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Addie smiled. ¡°I got a response from the manager I was going to interview. He¡¯s having lunch. I think he wanted to ditch me, but I know where he eats.¡± She nodded across the street to a noodle shop. The blinking sign said ¡°Noodles¡± and something else in Hangul. Unable to read it, Tony once again acutely felt the loss of his PAI. Addie shrugged out of her backpack and opened the top zipper. ¡°Getting my drone.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Tony stepped back to watch as she lifted out a football-shaped black, powder-coated metallic egg. She stared at it for a minute, and then her eyes started to glow faintly amber with the tell-tale sign of someone channeling Dust. The egg hummed and lifted off her palm, floating before her. With a snick, six tiny apertures opened in its shell, and Tony caught the glint of glass reflecting the daylight. ¡°Holy shit! Talk about Dust-tech!¡±

    Addie smiled hugely, and the drone hummed in a quick circle before settling to hover above her right shoulder. ¡°It was my grandma¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re piloting that thing right now?¡± Addie nodded, and Tony groaned. ¡°Oh man, no wonder you were annoyed when I was talking about that spark I saw.¡±

    Addie cocked her head, confusion in her eyes. ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I was trying to be all cool, saying I¡¯d seen a spark who could fly, and here you are¡ªI mean, you¡¯ve gotta be at least a glint, right?¡±

    ¡°What? I¡¯m no such thing!¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re flying that done like a pro¡ªdoes your PAI have an operator program? I wouldn¡¯t expect a Dust-tech cam drone to interface with a data port, but I guess it could be¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m operating it! What¡¯s the big deal?¡±

    ¡°Can you see through the cams?¡±

    ¡°Of course¡­ Why?¡±

    Seeing her expression and hearing her tone, Tony decided to back off; she didn¡¯t seem to like the idea of being a glint or a gleam or, frankly, something stronger, so he decided to get back in his lane. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know much about that stuff, I guess. I¡¯m just surprised at how well you can control that thing with all the cams out and active. I¡¯ve seen operators struggling to do a lot less, runners with years of training.¡±

    ¡°Camera operators?¡±

    ¡°Uh, let¡¯s just say drone operators.¡± Tony chuckled, thinking of Crystal and her deadly infiltrator drone. He wondered how she was. Had they left her alone? Did they think she was too close to him? Hopefully, she rolled over and promised to squeal if Tony came calling.

    Addie turned toward the noodle shop, and the drone sped across the street, nearly silent as its Dust-powered anti-grav tech sent it up and over just about as fast as Tony could¡¯ve thrown a baseball. The girl was damn good, no matter what she said. She had to at least be a glint.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got eyes on him. When we get to the shop, stay back and try not to look threatening, okay?¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± Tony adjusted his sunglasses and shrugged, ¡°okay.¡± Addie started into the street, but he held up a hand, ¡°Hey! Hold on a sec.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Can I buy some noodles and a drink while you¡¯re talking to that guy? It¡¯ll make me less conspicu¡ª¡±

    Addie waved a hand. ¡°No problem, just a sec.¡± Tony watched her eyes glaze over for a handful of seconds, and then she said, ¡°Ordered you kalguksu and tea. Your number¡¯s 171.¡± She waited for a couple of cars to pass, then jogged across the street.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tony said to the empty sidewalk, then followed, hands in his pockets, keeping some space between them. If she wanted him to be part of the scenery, he could do that. His stomach was growling, and the smells coming out of the noodle shop were making his mouth water.

    He could see Addie inside through the street-facing windows. She walked further into the shop but stopped by a booth occupied by two middle-aged men. Tony could only see one of their faces, and the guy looked irritated as he spoke to Addie. Tony pulled the door open and, once inside, sighed heavily as he took in a big breath of thick, humid, noodle-scented air. He walked down the aisle between booths, sitting in an empty spot across from Addie and her mark.

    ¡°I told you! I¡¯m busy, girl!¡±

    ¡°Mr. Robles, I think this is a perfect opportunity for us to talk. Your friend¡ªer, employee, here, might add something to the discussion.¡±

    Tony used his dark sunglasses to make his observation less than obvious as he watched Mr. Robles¡¯s scowl deepen and his already red-hued skin darken toward scarlet. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to you! I told you that I¡¯m conducting a performance evaluation here, and, besides, it¡¯s not good for me to be seen talking to a ¡®reporter.¡¯¡± He made air quotes and smirked.

    Addie was undeterred, and so was her drone¡ªhumming near-silently, it slowly moved in a wide circle around the table. Addie opened her mouth to speak, but then one of the noodle shop employees shouted, ¡°Order 168! 168!¡±

    Addie tried again, ¡°I can put a filter on your face and voice, sir. I always protect my sources. Please! There are people in desperate need of help in your complex, and I can¡¯t shed light on the situation if everyone¡¯s too afraid to talk!¡±

    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± It seemed that Addie took the question as an invitation, and Tony chuckled softly as she slid into the booth, nudging the other man until he slid toward the wall, making room.

    ¡°Just tell me how three different gangs are operating on the same turf? Do they know about each other? Are they all shaking everyone down, or just a few unlucky tenants?¡± The drone slowly reduced its elevation as she spoke, rotating slowly, no doubt to create a shot panning from Addie¡¯s face to the manager¡¯s. Once again, Tony found himself a little awed by her level of control. She was watching the man¡¯s face, speaking naturally while fully controlling a high-end cam drone''s movements and camera activity.

    It would be one thing if the drone was standard tech and controlled by her PAI, but it was Dust-tech; she was doing it all with her mind, and controlling a device like that was a hell of a lot more complicated than firing off something automatic like boosted reflexes¡ªTony ought to know. He got so engrossed in just watching her operate that he lost track of her questions and the other guy¡¯s answers. By the time he tuned back in, the clerk shouted, ¡°Order 171! 171!¡±

    Tony stood and collected his large bowl of brothy noodles with hunks of vat-chicken, zucchini, carrots, and potatoes swimming in the broth. He scooped up a little plastic pack of garnishes¡ªgreen onions and sliced hot peppers¡ªand his big paper cup of iced tea. He¡¯d been expecting a cup of hot tea but was happy for the larger serving of something cold and refreshing. He was thirsty as hell. On the way back to his table, he grabbed a spoon and chopsticks.

    ¡°¡­so you think they¡¯re all part of the same group?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that, but I heard one of the Lobos on a vid call with someone he called ¡®Mr. Ross,¡¯ and then two days later, one of the Black Hand crews was talking in the hallway outside my office, and I swear the, uh, main enforcer guy, O¡¯Mally, said something like, ¡®If Ross hears about this, we¡¯re melted.¡¯ That¡¯s all I know.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± Addie nodded, and her drone hummed as it moved around the manager¡¯s head so she could look up at it dramatically, ¡°we¡¯ve got at least two different gangs connected to this mysterious Mr. Ross. What about the third gang that¡¯s been collecting in the Royal Breeze complex, sir? The Red Thumbs?¡±

    ¡°I never heard ¡®em mention that guy, but, on the other hand, I¡¯ve seen them and the other two gangs walk right past each other in the courtyard, with nothing but dirty looks passing between ¡®em. Now, that¡¯s something I haven¡¯t seen in more than twenty years on the job.¡±

    Addie started asking follow-up questions, and Tony lost track of the conversation as he dug into the noodles. Looking down, watching his new, mechanical hand deftly manipulate the chopsticks, he felt a weird sense of dissociation¡ªlike the hand wasn¡¯t his. It forced him to confront the fact that he¡¯d had his other arm cut off less than a day ago. Of course, that line of thinking threatened to make him look more closely at the incident, including the people who¡¯d betrayed him, so Tony tried to focus on the present.

    The hand worked pretty damn well, and the weird, synthetic pads on the inside allowed him to feel things almost as naturally as his old, synth-flesh-covered hand did. The back of the hand and his arm were utterly devoid of feeling, which wasn¡¯t ideal, but he figured it would do for the short term. ¡°Always room for an upgrade,¡± he muttered between bites. If nothing else, the hand felt strong, and it was responsive. His nanites had already helped with the swelling and soreness around his elbow joint.

    He took a minute to silently thank his lucky stars that he bought the nanite bank when he was on a job in Mexico City¡ªhe¡¯d never mentioned it to anyone at Cross. That thought brought up more questions he didn¡¯t want to deal with: why hadn¡¯t he mentioned it? How long had he felt like things weren¡¯t right with Eric and Jen? How long had they? Again, he opened the door where he kept his darker thoughts and shoved the questions in there, slamming it shut. Then, he got to work on his noodles.

    Afterward, he felt confident that he¡¯d never eaten anything that fast in his life. He killed the thirty-two-ounce cup of sweet, iced tea in a matter of seconds, then stood in line at the counter for a couple of minutes, hoping for a refill. He¡¯d just gotten the guy in the back to grudgingly fill it up when Addie approached. He arched his eyebrow at her. ¡°All done?¡±

    ¡°I am! I¡¯ve got some very promising leads, but, more importantly, I got some great material. I¡¯ll probably get a couple of episodes out of this interview if I add some commentary and drone footage. Let¡¯s take a walk past the apartment complex so I can get some aerials; they¡¯ll come in handy as I continue this series.¡±

    Tony shrugged and sipped the tea, sighing happily at the heavy feel of his gut. ¡°Thanks again for the noodles.¡±

    ¡°Just add it to what you already owe us.¡± She smiled, taking the sting out of the words, then gestured to the door. ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± Tony followed Addie and her drone down the street and around the corner, where he saw the apartment complex in question. The place consisted of a pair of primarily concrete buildings¡ªnothing huge, maybe thirty stories¡ªwrapped around a park-like central courtyard. An extruded metal fence with big openings, where gates might once have been, blocked off most of the courtyard from the street, but Tony could see the place wasn¡¯t what it once might have been.

    Pavers covered most of the ground, and what little grass remained was yellowed with dirt walking tracks worn through it. A couple of half-court, concrete basketball courts took up a fourth of the space, and Tony saw quite a few kids and adults hanging around by the netless hoops. Nobody was playing basketball.

    Two drones hovered in the air¡ªconventional ones with rotor propellers buzzing as they swooped from one side of the complex to another, ever watchful. Rough characters of all types lurked on the edges of the property, leaning on the buildings, sitting on the curbs, and walking around with hooded heads down and hands in pockets.

    Tony leaned against the brown-brick building on the corner, watching the people pass as Addie sent her drone swooping around. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look very ¡®royal¡¯ to me.¡±

    ¡°The place is pre-war¡ªalmost fifty years old. I bet it was different when it was new.¡±

    ¡°Whole city was different.¡±

    Addie looked at him, narrowing her dark eyebrows. ¡°You don¡¯t have to accept that. I mean, everyone does, but we don¡¯t have to. We don¡¯t have to be okay with the decline of¡­everything.¡±

    ¡°Tell that to the folks up in ¡¯Hattan.¡± Tony jerked his chin to the left, where he imagined¡ªif there was less haze in the air¡ªa person might be able to catch a glimpse of the megatowers of District One.

    ¡°What? ¡¯Cause a small percent live the good life, it should be okay for the rest of us to just kind of fade? To be drones? To¡ª¡±

    Tony held up his hands, his mechanical digits clicking. ¡°Easy¡ªI surrender.¡±

    Addie glared at him for another few seconds, then turned back toward the apartment complex. ¡°I kind of want to go ask some of those residents for interviews. I¡¯m curious about the idea that these gangs might be tentacles of the same squid.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look too friendly over there.¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°You can wait here¡ªI only have a few units of Dust left to burn, so I won¡¯t be long.¡± She didn¡¯t wait for an argument, starting across the street as the old green ¡°WALK¡± signal counted down from thirteen. With a sense of foreboding, Tony followed a few steps behind. He flexed his new, mechanical fist and rotated his shoulder, checking for soreness. It felt all right, but he hoped he was overreacting. He hoped he wouldn¡¯t have to get in a fight. ¡°Not yet,¡± he sighed softly. ¡°Let me get at least one good night¡¯s sleep under my belt.¡±

 6. A Walk in the Park

    5 ¨C A Walk in the Park

    Addie flicked her focus from her eyes to the drone¡¯s feed, watching as it zoomed through the Royal Breeze courtyard. She was scanning for a friendly face¡ªsomeone she¡¯d met with before, someone she felt confident enough to approach uninvited. She would have liked to have JJ help, but he didn¡¯t have access to the Dust-tech drone; the Dust made a link right to her mind.

    She flicked again and looked at Tony. He was leaning against the building, deep in the shadows, arms folded, staring into space through those dark sunglasses. She wished her father hadn¡¯t given them to him; Addie liked to look into a person¡¯s eyes.

    She still hadn¡¯t figured him out, not that she¡¯d had much time to do so. Her perception of him had certainly changed since their first encounter in her dad¡¯s store, however. She¡¯d thought he was just a wastrel¡ªan addict or washed-up braincase who¡¯d fried out and been rolled¡ªleft in a gutter. Or worse, she admitted, she¡¯d thought maybe he¡¯d resorted to selling off parts for bits, feeding some kind of addiction. It wouldn¡¯t have been the first time her dad took someone like that in, after all.

    Things were different now; he¡¯d steadied out after the surgery, and he seemed pretty cool-headed. There was no way her dad¡¯s sketchy inhaler was keeping him even-keeled like this. She was pretty close to believing his story about a nanite bank. It made sense that as soon as he got her old Dust reactor running, the nanites would start working. As Dust-tech, they didn¡¯t need a PAI or controller program. Still, if she believed that, she had to start to really think about who he¡¯d been. Dust-tech medical nanites were serious business¡ªhundreds of thousands of bits serious.

    She flicked back to her drone and zoomed it over a group of youths hanging around the east basketball court. She was pretty sure she recognized one of those hoodies. ¡°I think that¡¯s Jamal Hoshock.¡± She recalled the drone and asked, ¡°What¡¯s my Dust level?¡±

    JJ projected a flickering amber window on her AUI:

    Dust Purity: Impure -

    Dust Capacity: 9/30

    ¡°Not bad. Plenty for a quick interview.¡± She glanced at Tony; those dark sunglasses were staring her way, but he didn¡¯t move. ¡°I¡¯m going over by that basketball court on the right. Might go smoother if you stay here.¡±

    He flicked her a lazy salute with two fingers, and Addie hmphed and moved past the metal fence into official Royal Breeze territory. She knew it was in her head, but it felt like it got darker as she stepped over that boundary onto the dirt path where a park once flourished. She sent her drone high¡ªit had a powerful zoom, and she knew from experience that it wasn¡¯t always wise for people she interviewed to see that she had it.

    She¡¯d almost lost it enough times that she¡¯d done some research, trying to see what it would cost her to replace it. As Dust-tech, it was uncommon enough, but Addie had never seen one like it on the markets. There were a few models similar enough, but none that boasted the same capabilities. Even so, those other cam drones were listed for thousands of bits¡ªmore than Addie could hope to scrape together. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she muttered as she passed between a pair of older women sitting on either side of the path, conversing loudly about someone¡¯s lost cat.

    They ignored her, and Addie found herself wishing she¡¯d worn her green jacket with the hood. She tugged her too-bright, yellow coat¡¯s lapels together and stuffed her hands in the pockets, furiously trying to avoid the increasingly frequent stares aimed her way. She flicked and watched herself progress through the courtyard. Using the drone¡¯s cam feed and superior noise filtering, she listened to nearby conversations:

    ¡°¡­this little prissy bitch. She don¡¯t live here, does she, Cindy?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°Watch her¡ªprobably looking to score, but I ain¡¯t trying to have any strays scratching ¡®round my turf.¡±

    Addie zoomed in on the woman¡¯s face and tried to place it. It wasn¡¯t hard¡ªnotched left eyebrow, pink star tattoos around her left orbital bone. It was Patricia ¡°Starstriker¡± Kline, a lieutenant in the Charmed Foxes. Addie made sure she hurried past and didn¡¯t glance her way.

    She shifted the drone¡¯s focus to her quarry. She was only a dozen meters away, almost to the concrete basketball court. Head down, she hustled past a couple of groups of young banger-wannabes, talking tough, smoking chemsticks, and laughing as they took turns teasing one another.

    When she approached Jamal, he was looking the other way, pointing at a friend who was trying to do a weird, hopping dance while keeping his too-big, chain-laden trousers from falling down. ¡°You look a fool, Toast!¡±

    While part of her mind concentrated on getting a good drone angle, Addie cleared her throat and said, ¡°Hey, Jamal.¡±

    He whirled, stuffing a hand into his coat, but when he saw Addie, his eyes widened, and he laughed. ¡°Stupid, doll! I almost put two in your guts!¡± He jerked his hand under his coat for emphasis. Addie doubted he really had a gun in there, but she was glad to see him laughing, anyway.

    ¡°Sorry I startled you. I was passing by and was wondering if you might answer a couple of questions, on the record, for my next story. I can totally tag you in the vid, and if you want me to shoutout your dance page¡ª¡±

    Jamal made a sound like a tire getting punctured, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°I got more follows than you, doll. Think any your tired old subs wanna see my fresh biz?¡± He made the leaky tire sound again and flicked his fingers dismissively.

    ¡°I mean, if even one of ¡®em likes how you sound and checks out your page, then it was worth it, right? One person talks to two more, and they talk to two each, and then¡ª¡±

    ¡°Pshh, I get it, doll. So, whatchu want? I don¡¯t see you dressing any nicer than the last time I saw you. How you gonna get views dressed like an old lady?¡±

    Addie struggled not to frown; she didn¡¯t remember Jamal being quite so judgmental the last time she interviewed him. Using her drone¡¯s feed, though, she figured out what was up: he had an audience. Several youngsters nearby were paying rapt attention. Was Jamal trying to move up? Was he building up his own little cadre of wannabes? If the local gangs saw him leading the up-and-comers, it would look good for him¡ªdepending on one¡¯s perspective. ¡°Just a couple of questions? I promise I won¡¯t waste your time.¡±

    He sucked his teeth, folded his arms, and looked down his nose at her. ¡°Next time you come around, you gonna wear something nicer?¡±

    Addie decided to try playing the game. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can find in my closet.¡±

    ¡°Shoot then.¡±

    Addie put on her reporter voice, ¡°Thank you, Jamal. Can you confirm rumors that local gangs are working together around the Royal Breeze apartments?¡±

    ¡°What ya mean working together?¡± He gathered a wad of phlegm and spat to the side.

    ¡°There¡¯s been an unconfirmed report that the Black Hand and the Lobos are both working for a mysterious individual who goes by the monicker ¡®Mr. Ross.¡¯ Does that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yo, speak English, doll. Mondicker? He a pimp?¡±

    ¡°Jamal, have you heard of a Mr. Ross?¡±

    ¡°Hell nah.¡± He leaned a little closer. ¡°I do see them bangers talking nice, though. It¡¯s weird as hell. They used to fight for nothin¡¯!¡± Jamal¡¯s face went wan, and he shook his head rapidly, backing away from Addie. She was about to pursue him, wondering what had spooked him, when a new voice rang out behind her.

    ¡°This that news bitch everyone¡¯s been talking ¡¯bout?¡± Addie whirled at the voice and saw a tall, leather-clad man with a shaved head and red, rubbery, low-end synth-flesh covering half his face. The sleeves of his leather jacket were cut off, exposing long, powerful-looking arms with taut, sinewy muscles. Worse, he openly carried a heavy-looking revolver strapped to his left thigh.

    ¡°Hello, sir,¡± Addie said, stepping forward. With a corner of her mind, she moved the drone to get a better shot of his face. ¡°I¡¯m Adelaide Jones, and I¡¯m conducting an independent news report about the Royal¡ª¡±

    ¡°You running Dust? I can see a glow in those eyes. What you running?¡± He turned in a slow circle, ignoring Addie. When she didn¡¯t respond, he turned and stepped closer to her. ¡°I said, what you running, bitch?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my AUI.¡± Addie did not want this man to know about her drone. She piloted it straight up, then sent it zooming toward the edge of the courtyard where she¡¯d left Tony. He wasn¡¯t there.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    A finger poked her chest, bringing her back to the reality of her situation. ¡°You recording me with those eyes? You got optics?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m recording voice¡ª¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s got a drone, T-bomb.¡± Jamal moved around her to stand closer to ¡®T-bomb.¡¯ ¡°I seen her page. Lil¡¯ doll¡¯s got hella skills¡ªmad shots, air zooms, close-ups, everything.¡±

    ¡°You lying to me, girl?¡± T-bomb poked her chest again¡ªtoo close to her breast for comfort. Addie flushed and took a step back.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t touch me, sir. If you¡¯d like to be interviewed, I could¡ª¡±

    T-bomb cut her off again, ¡°What you doing poking around here? This ain¡¯t your block, bitch.¡± He took half a step, his finger outstretched, aiming for her chest, but it stopped centimeters short of making contact. Addie realized his whole body had stopped¡ªhis foot hung in the air, unable to complete the step. When he made a soft gagging sound, she realized why¡ªthe collar of his leather jacket was pulled tight to his throat, and as she moved to the side to peer behind him, she saw the issue: Tony was there, twisting the leather collar in his mechanical fist.

    He gave the banger a shake, then threw him back so he had to stumble and windmill his arms to keep from falling. ¡°Hey, T-bomb. I¡¯ve been looking for you.¡±

    T-bomb grabbed his neck, the bits of normal flesh on his face reddening with rage as he stared daggers at Tony. ¡°The fuck are you?¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°You owe me a hundred bits.¡± Addie stared at him, wondering if he¡¯d lost his mind. She almost asked him what he was doing, but he pointedly avoided eye contact with her, and more and more young wannabes were crowding close, shouldering past her. T-bomb had completely forgotten about her, and she wondered if that had been Tony¡¯s big idea, stupid as it might be. Why would he think getting himself beaten to a pulp was the right move here? It wasn¡¯t like Addie hadn¡¯t dealt with intimidation before.

    T-bomb straightened up, and Addie could see his hand stretching toward the grip of his pistol. ¡°I don¡¯t owe you shit, asshole!¡±

    Tony chuckled and looked around at the crowd through his dark-lensed sunglasses. ¡°Look at this guy¡ªreaching for his piece. I thought he was supposed to be tough?¡±

    The banger scowled, and Addie could see he was angry enough that murder was definitely on the table, but the sniggers in the crowd froze his hand before he pulled the gun. Bangers were, after all, political creatures. They operated on rep, and if Tony was calling him out and the young wannabes were laughing, then he¡¯d probably lose face if he pulled the gun in a¡ªso far¡ªfistfight situation. Another pack of loitering youth pushed closer, shoving past Addie, obscuring her view.

    A voice in the back of her mind told Addie to take the opportunity to clear out. Tony had distracted T-bomb for a reason. It would be stupid to squander it. So she did; she backed away, over to one of the old, trash-filled concrete planters, and climbed up on the edge to better see over the heads of the crowd. It wasn¡¯t necessary; she could see in perfect detail with her drone, but she wanted to be ready to bolt, and the planter created an ideal line of sight barrier if she just hopped down on the other side.

    Tony and the banger were squaring off, and Addie zoomed in with the drone to hear them over the buzz of the crowd. ¡°¡­just toss me the bits, and I¡¯ll walk away.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know you, bozo! You kiss my boot, and I¡¯ll forget you put your hands on me.¡± Addie smirked at the use of the old clown insult¡ªif these bangers knew the origin, she doubted they¡¯d try to sound so tough using that word.

    ¡°JJ, search my gang database for T-bomb. Is he affiliated?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a prospect for the Black Hand as of the last update, which was Monday. According to his file, he¡¯s been a prospect for nearly four years.¡±

    ¡°The Hand don¡¯t recruit full members very often. I''m surprised he hasn¡¯t given up and fallen in with one of the less discriminating crews. So, either there¡¯s something wrong with him, or he¡¯s just holding out.¡±

    ¡°According to the database, his older brother was a member of the Black Hand before he was killed.¡±

    Addie scanned the crowd, once again wishing she could put the drone footage through JJ¡¯s database of faces. ¡°I don¡¯t see any Black Hand around. But there¡¯s gotta be a hundred people in this courtyard¡ªI¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Of the faces in your immediate vicinity, I can confirm none are known Black Hand members.¡±

    Addie ignored JJ¡ªsomething was happening in the middle of the circle. T-bomb lunged forward, driving with his hips as he swung a wild, skull-cracking haymaker. It looked to Addie like it would be lights out for Tony. She winced, imagining how much it would hurt, especially with his sore eye¡­socket. Something happened too quickly for her eyes to follow, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that her drone was capturing everything.

    One minute, T-bomb was about to deliver a fight-ending blow, and then he was stumbling forward, and Tony was gliding around behind him, almost lazily. Had he just slipped the blow? Was it that simple? Was he that smooth? T-bomb came up against the loose ring of onlookers, and one of them caught his shoulders, helping him regain his balance. When he whirled, the murder in his bloodshot eyes was plain.

    ¡°Excuse me, Adelaide,¡± JJ interjected, ¡°but your Dust reserves are down to two units.¡±

    Addie nodded absently. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it close by. Warn me when we¡¯ve been burning the last unit for thirty seconds.¡±

    Meanwhile, T-bomb had put up his fists and was approaching Tony more warily. As he closed the distance, he jabbed out with his left fist. It looked fast to Addie, but Tony slapped it lazily, taking a sideways step. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t his depth perception be worse than that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not an expert¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rhetorical, JJ.¡± Addie watched as Tony avoided three more punches. Then he reached out and slapped T-bomb on the cheek. The sound rang out as the crowd made a collective ¡°Ooh¡± sound.

    T-bomb had had enough. His fury overrode his need to follow fist-fighting rules, and he grabbed his pistol from its holster. Tony stepped forward and snatched his wrist, turning it as he continued moving past the banger. The big, leather-clad man yelped in pain as Tony did something to his wrist that had the banger leaning forward, desperately trying to turn away from the pain. Tony snatched the pistol out of his hand, then lifted the banger¡¯s hand high and swept his legs with an effortless kick, dropping the big man to the concrete on his rump with an ¡°Oof!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take this old piece in exchange for the bits you owe me. Don¡¯t let me see you around the bridge again.¡± He said the words so nonchalantly and with such conviction behind them that Addie was beginning to believe Tony really did know T-bomb¡ªthat they¡¯d actually had a run-in someplace near a ¡°bridge.¡± Tony held the chrome-plated pistol in the air and looked around the crowd. ¡°You all saw him pull this thing on me. It¡¯s mine now.¡±

    Someone wearing a red hoodie broke the tension. ¡°Damn, T-bomb! That dude wrecked your ass.¡± As others jumped in on the chance to make fun of one of the courtyard bullies, Tony slipped away, hands in his pockets, but straight-backed with his sunglasses swiveling from left to right until he caught sight of Addie. Some of the youngsters chased after him, shouting questions:

    ¡°What crew you run with, killer?¡±

    ¡°Damn, bro! Where¡¯d you learn to fight?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    Tony ignored them all, and when he saw Addie looking his way, he jerked his head toward the nearest gap in the wrought-iron fence. She didn¡¯t need an invitation and hurried to jump down from the planter, calling her drone home. Three minutes later, she was across the street, stuffing the egg-shaped device into her backpack, when Tony approached.

    She looked up to ask him what he¡¯d been thinking, but he ignored her and walked by, aiming for the corner. She saw why¡ªplenty of folks were standing around near the gate watching him go. Addie waited a couple of seconds, then hurried in the same direction.

    Once she rounded the corner, she saw him leaning against the bricks. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re insane! Did you know that guy?¡±

    He arched an eyebrow. ¡°T-bomb? Nah, but I guess my acting¡¯s pretty good, huh?¡±

    ¡°That was so risky, Tony! What if he¡¯d been backed up by one of the gangs in the area?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t have any patches¡ªI mean none that looked like gang colors.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It''s not like folks don¡¯t get in fights around these kinds of neighborhoods all the time.¡±

    ¡°What if he shot you?¡±

    ¡°With this old thing?¡± Tony slapped his pocket. He made a dismissive sound, then jerked his head toward the sidewalk. ¡°Come on, we should keep moving.¡±

    Addie didn¡¯t disagree, so she started hurrying back toward her neighborhood. ¡°I really didn¡¯t need you to do that! I know how to roll over convincingly enough. That guy would have left me alone after a few more threats.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe, but I didn¡¯t like how he was poking you. I don¡¯t care what neighborhood you¡¯re from; when someone tells you to stop touching ¡¯em, you ought to listen.¡±

    Addie scowled but didn¡¯t reply. She wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. People who couldn¡¯t take a little hit to their pride didn¡¯t tend to live very long in the Blast. Still, some weird, lonely part of her felt good knowing someone had stood up for her. When was the last time that had happened without involving her father? She looked at the tall, lanky fellow strolling alongside her, utterly unbothered that he¡¯d just gotten into a physical confrontation with someone. ¡°So, you were corpo?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Wish I could deny it.¡±

    ¡°I take it you weren¡¯t an ad exec or a, uh, pleasure boy.¡±

    He snorted and looked at her with his eyebrows arched high over the top of his sunglasses. ¡°Pleasure boy?¡±

    Addie felt her cheeks heat up. ¡°I mean, I watch the serials. I know how life is in ¡¯Hattan. I thought maybe you¡¯d angered the wrong, um, client.¡±

    He grinned with just the left side of his mouth. ¡°Ah, I see. Not many easy ways to explain my good looks, huh?¡±

    ¡°Oh my gosh! That¡¯s not what I said! I just thought you looked too¡­¡± Addie desperately didn¡¯t want to say ¡°fit¡± or ¡°handsome,¡± so she settled on something better, ¡°soft to be corpo-sec or something like that. I figured you spent your days in the gym and the salon, then you know, at night¡ª¡±

    ¡°Jeez, seriously? You¡¯re killing me.¡±

    ¡°So, what was it? I don¡¯t think most execs can move like you did back there.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be surprised. Talk about people with too much time on their hands¡­¡± He trailed off, shaking his head, and Addie thought maybe she¡¯d triggered a memory he was having a hard time pushing past. After a few seconds, though, he turned to her and nodded. ¡°You could say I worked security. Not corpo-sec, exactly, but more like an operator on retainer.¡±

    ¡°Operator, huh? We get those down here, too.¡±

    He shrugged¡ªa gesture that seemed to be one of his favorites. ¡°Sure. People need to make a living wherever.¡± They rounded a corner, and he added, ¡°Anyway, I wasn¡¯t trying to cause you any grief back there. I thought if I could distract that guy, you could slip away.¡±

    ¡°I¡­get your intentions, but it¡¯s not always that simple. I¡¯m honestly surprised they let you walk out of there. I¡¯m surprised T-bomb isn¡¯t behind us right now.¡±

    ¡°Nah, having your wrist broken usually takes the fight out of someone.¡±

    ¡°You broke his wrist?¡±

    Tony shrugged¡ªagain¡ªand held up his mechanical hand. ¡°It¡¯s a little stronger than I¡¯m used to.¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, not stronger¡ªmore inelegant. Let¡¯s just say when I twisted his wrist to a degree that, in my mind, should have caused some pain, my arm took things a few notches further than I intended.¡± Gunshots sounded in the distance, maybe two blocks away, and he smiled, shaking his head. ¡°Wonder what that¡¯s about.¡±

    Addie picked up her pace. ¡°Let¡¯s not hang around to find out. By the way, what are you planning to do with that pistol?¡±

    ¡°Sell it, I guess. I owe Beef a hundred bits, right?¡± He laughed. ¡°You think your pops will buy it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, brother.¡± Addie shook her head and reached up to loosen her ponytail; she was getting a headache. Then, after a moment¡¯s thought, she nodded. ¡°He probably will.¡±

 7. A Side Job

    7 ¨C A Side Job

    Tony pulled the door to Bert¡¯s shop open with a jangle of the bells and held it for Addie. She gave him a funny look, stepped through, and was immediately greeted with Bert¡¯s concern, ¡°Everything go all right?¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± She looked at Tony with an arched eyebrow. ¡°Right?¡±

    He shrugged, letting the door close behind him. ¡°Yeah. I got in a little scuffle with a banger, but nothing to write home about.¡±

    Bert folded his thick arms over his chest. ¡°That¡¯s not an easy neighborhood. You sure you¡¯re good?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± Tony grinned and walked further into the store, past a rack of used motor parts so that he could see Bert better. ¡°It was nothing. Just some trash-talking, really.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to do some editing,¡± Addie announced, taking long, bouncing strides toward the back door to the storeroom. She walked with her thumbs under the straps of her backpack, head down.

    Bert barely managed to call out, ¡°Let¡¯s order pizza for dinner!¡± before the door swung shut behind her. ¡°She always does that,¡± he said to Tony, rubbing his chin through his stiff white beard with a thumb.

    Tony nodded. ¡°I¡¯d say you were right earlier when you said she was pretty driven. She¡¯s all about the story.¡±

    ¡°Hey, speaking of stories, Tony, I thought I should mention something¡ªkind of a warning.¡± Bert shifted, looking uncomfortable as he reached over his shoulder, stretching and straining like he wanted to scratch an itch he couldn¡¯t quite reach.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± At the word ¡°warning¡± coming from Bert and on the heels of talking about Addie, Tony felt like he was about to receive a lecture about how he wasn¡¯t exactly the kind of guy Bert was looking to have to get fresh with his daughter. Tony wouldn¡¯t have argued.

    ¡°Yeah, you mentioned you had those Dust-tech nanites kind of nonchalantly, and you can¡¯t be doing that in this neighborhood, buddy. Don¡¯t worry about Donny and me¡ªhe knows how to keep his mouth shut¡ªbut there are other folks who¡¯ll talk to their banger relatives or shoot, just the enforcer on the block, trying to earn some credit for the info. Next thing you know, you¡¯re being hauled into the back of a van, and someone¡¯s cutting you open. You understand? People get killed for a lot less than tech like that around here.¡±

    Tony closed his mouth, clicking his teeth together as the old guy¡¯s words hit home. He was right. ¡°Yeah, that was a dim-brain move. Thanks for the reminder, Bert.¡±

    ¡°Well, in your defense, you¡¯ve had a hell of a couple of days. I mean, shoot, you¡¯d just had surgery. Just be cooler about that stuff in the future. I¡¯ll tell Addie to keep it quiet, but she¡¯s pretty savvy. I doubt she¡¯ll be broadcasting the news.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Thanks again. Hey, uh, that banger who I had a thing with? I took this from him. You wouldn¡¯t be interested, would you?¡± Tony reached into his pocket and lifted out the heavy chrome-plated revolver, walking over to the counter to slide it over to Bert.

    ¡°What¡¯s this? An old Sokolov Terminator?¡± Bert chuckled, picking up the piece and rotating the cylinder. He popped the chamber and pulled out what looked like a miniature shotgun shell. Tony¡¯s eyes widened when he saw the diameter. ¡°Only holds four rounds, but they pack a hell of a punch. Can shoot 4-10 shotgun shells or the company''s custom, high-pressure, polymer rounds. Well, they used to make ¡¯em. Don¡¯t think they¡¯re still in business. Even so, last I checked, there¡¯s a ton of ammo available on the market-net.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re interested?¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll sell it on commission unless¡­¡± He eyed the front of the store where the windows opened onto the street. ¡°You probably want the bits now, huh? So you can get Beef off your back?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking that, yeah. Is the thing worth a hundred bits?¡±

    ¡°Easily. I¡¯ll give you one-forty, so you¡¯ll have a little pocket money. I s¡¯pose you need a bit-locker, huh, no PAI?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°No worries, I¡¯ve got a dozen lying around back here.¡± Bert pulled out a drawer near his little terminal and started shuffling through what sounded like a large amount of ¡°junk.¡±

    While Bert looked for a bit-locker chip, Tony leaned an elbow against the glass counter and asked, ¡°When I get enough scratch together, you think I ought to talk to that doc about a new eye? Any other chop docs around? I mean, I looked through your supply of spare parts,¡± Tony chuckled, ¡°and I didn¡¯t see any eyes.¡±

    ¡°Doc Peters can order what you need, and he gets all the same discounts as parlor shop chop docs. I trust him a lot more, too.¡± Bert held up a pinky-sized plastic device. ¡°Aha! Here we go, Tony. Someone paid me on this thing a few years back¡ªdrained it dry and left it here.¡± He plugged it into the data port on his terminal, and Tony watched him tapping at the air, no doubt punching buttons on his AUI.

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do sales and whatnot until I get a data port and a PAI. I suppose I should prioritize that over a new eye.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be a while until you can afford any of that stuff if you¡¯re just watching the shop for me.¡± Bert pulled the bit-locker out of the terminal and tossed it to him. ¡°There you go, Tony. I¡¯d pay Beef off in the morning; people wandering the streets after dark in this district are usually up to no good. Gangs get more violent, the Boxer corpo-sec patrols harass folks, and don¡¯t forget the odd operator or runner looking for a mark.¡±

    Tony slipped the little plastic device into his pocket and nodded. ¡°You don¡¯t have to convince me; I¡¯m not itching to get out on the streets right now. I gotta tell you, keeping up with your daughter was a little harder than I expected. I¡¯m pretty drained. Speaking of¡ªyou got any idea how much Dust this little reactor can hold? With impure Dust, my nanites need something like a unit per minute to run optimally, and I don¡¯t think they¡¯re getting it.¡±

    ¡°Just a sec, come over here, will you? Let me see the display.¡± Bert beckoned, and Tony moved closer, unzipping his tracksuit, revealing his neat, glued suture line and the three-centimeter chrome display in the center of his sternum. Bert leaned close and tapped his finger against the shiny surface three times. Then, he stared at something in the air between them. A moment later, he said, ¡°TDT Dust reactor, model seventy-four A.¡± He smiled at Tony. ¡°Just a sec, my PAI¡¯s looking it up.¡± He moved back, and Tony zipped up his jacket.

    Tony leaned on his elbow again and couldn¡¯t fight off a yawn that came upon him. Bert laughed, ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding, were you? Your face looks weary, my friend.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°Aha! Success! Looks like your reactor has a capacity of ten Dust units, but combined with the stock matrix¡ªwhich is what I gave you¡ªthe collection rate from ambient Dust, provided there is some in a person¡¯s system, is one unit per ten minutes¡ªroughly.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so my nanites are only operating, uh, occasionally,¡± Tony chuckled. ¡°Still, some is better than none.¡±

    ¡°Definitely! And the best thing about it is you¡¯re getting that corrupted Dust out of your system.¡±

    ¡°Hey, uh¡­¡± Tony paused, gathering his thoughts. Bert¡¯s mention of Dust in a person¡¯s system made him think about mutations, which reminded him about Addie and her uncanny ability to control her drone. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. ¡°You gotta tell me what¡¯s up with your daughter¡ªshe¡¯s at least a gleam, am I right?¡±

    Bert frowned. ¡°Well¡­¡± Tony could see he was weighing his words. ¡°I mean, there¡¯s nothing obvious about her, but I know what you¡¯re talking about¡ªshe handles that drone better than my mother ever could, and she was trained on Dust-tech by her news corp. Addie¡¯s had that drone since she got her first Dust reactor, though¡ª¡± He pointed his finger at Tony¡¯s chest. ¡°¡ªand I wonder if she¡¯s just been using it so long that she¡¯s developed, I dunno, a kind of bond with it. I¡¯d test her on some other Dust-tech, but nothing appropriate has ever come through the shop.¡±

    ¡°Well, she acts like she hasn¡¯t got a clue how rare that kind of control is. I¡¯ve worked with operators who would kill to be able to do what she does with that thing; she can pretty damn near view the drone¡¯s feed and use her eyes simultaneously¡ªI had a partner on a gig once who tried to do that with a crawler and got violently ill.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, well, denial ain¡¯t just a river in Egypt.¡±

    ¡°Why denial, though? There¡¯s nothing wrong with being a gleam.¡±

    ¡°Eh, down here? If you got a mutation, odds are it ain¡¯t gonna be all positive. At least, that¡¯s what folks whisper behind closed doors.¡±

    ¡°The corruption.¡± Tony nodded. ¡°Still, if there was something negative, I think people would notice.¡±

    ¡°Look, Tony, there¡¯s nothing wrong with Addie, right? If she¡¯s got a touch of something special¡ªsomething like a gleam¡ªthere¡¯s no need to make a fuss about it. Are we clear?¡± Bert¡¯s sudden seriousness didn¡¯t brook much argument, and Tony knew enough not to ruffle the feathers of the rooster in charge of the henhouse where he was trying to lay low. He paused on that thought. Is that what he was doing? Laying low? Seemed more like he was just struggling to survive.

    ¡°Yeah, sure, Bert. Forget I mentioned it.¡± When Bert¡¯s smile returned, and he nodded, Tony added, ¡°Hey, like you said, I¡¯m going to be a long while affording anything if I rely on your charity. You think there¡¯s anything else I can do around the neighborhood to help me scrape up some bits?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can think of a few people who might need help with a thing or two. Why don¡¯t you let me send out some messages and see what I can come up with?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be great, Boss.¡±

    Bert chuckled but didn¡¯t deny the monicker. ¡°In the meantime, why don¡¯t you go rest your eyes, buddy? If you doze off, I¡¯ll wake you for dinner. How does a cold beer and a couple slices of pizza sound?¡±

    ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re a damn saint, Bert.¡± Tony looked around the shop. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t need me to do anything first?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I appreciate you walking with Addie. Now get a few winks.¡±

    Tony held out his mechanical fist, and Bert bumped his knuckles in a gesture that seemed automatic. As the old guy grinned, Tony ducked his head and said, ¡°Thanks again.¡± He went into the storeroom and saw that Bert had put a pillow and a plain gray blanket on the cot.

    Before he tried to nap, though, Tony used the little bathroom. It had a toilet, a sink, and a mop and bucket in the corner, but no shower. ¡°God, I could use a shower,¡± he muttered, imagining the hot water trickling down his scalp and shoulders. He settled for splashing water on his face, careful to keep the bandage over his eye socket dry.

    Out of habit or just because he was nosy and curious, he opened the little medicine cabinet behind the mirror to find a bottle of aspirin, a package of synth-skin bandages, some fingernail clippers, and a bottle of ¡°Urban Man¡± aftershave. Tony chuckled and closed the cabinet, startling himself with his own face in the mirror. ¡°Damn, you look like shit, brother.¡±

    It was true; his hair was unkempt, a dark hollow surrounded his singular eye, and his skin tone was more ash than olive. Still, he might be biased, but he thought he looked kind of fierce. He had dark, thick eyebrows, and they were perpetually angled in a near-scowl, and he didn¡¯t have an ounce of fat on his face¡ªhis nose was straight, his cheekbones were sharp, and his jawline looked like it would hurt like hell to punch. ¡°That¡¯s right, buddy, talk yourself up.¡±

    With those affirmations, Tony left the bathroom, flicked off the light in the storeroom, and lay down on the cot. He pulled the thin blanket over himself, curling onto his side, and closed his eye. Despite his efforts to hold the door closed, whispers began to creep out of the room where he¡¯d stuffed his uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. Foremost among them were a pair of green eyes and the scent of musky jasmine. ¡°Emily,¡± he whispered, and rather than let the feelings and memories drift by only to be replaced by something worse, Tony chased after her into the corners of his mind.

    He remembered her giggling, half-naked, sharing a chemstick with him, even though they both knew it was stupid. They were lying in a bed, and it was dark. Neon shone through the loft¡¯s windows, making weird glowing shadows on the ceiling through the chemstick¡¯s smoke. What did she say? He could imagine her voice perfectly and supplied the words as best he could remember them, ¡°We should do it. We should run. They¡¯re never going to erase your debt, T. Let¡¯s just go.¡±

    Tony squeezed his eyes, eliciting a sharp pain from his right socket, and banished the memory, driving Emily¡¯s ghostly specter back into the room where he¡¯d stuffed those thoughts and feelings. As a way to keep those things from escaping, he focused on the present. He thought about Addie and her ¡°story¡± about the Royal Breeze. He hadn¡¯t paid much attention to her interview at the noodle shop, but it sounded like she was onto something. Was it worth anything? Would anyone care, regardless of whatever scoop she could dig up? He doubted it.

    He rolled over, frowning, unable to keep his mind focused, unable to keep it from wandering to forbidden places. Eric. He¡¯d definitely heard Eric¡¯s voice when they were cutting him up. Despite the sting, Tony had to admit it made a certain kind of sense. Eric had always hated that Emily loved him. He¡¯d always been jealous of her attention. Even with Jen, even with Cross, Eric was always in Tony¡¯s shadow. But they were friends¡ªfriends since forever¡­

    Despite his subconscious mind¡¯s attempts to force him to face certain realities, Tony¡¯s conscious thoughts slipped away, and his exhaustion saved him. When the light flickered and Bert gruffly called his name, Tony had no idea how long he¡¯d been out, but he wanted more sleep. Still, when Bert spoke again, mentioning the pizza, Tony¡¯s stomach forced the issue, and he groggily sat up on the cot. ¡°On my way, Boss.¡±

    When he returned to the shop, he glanced at the big clock over the counter and saw it was nearly nine. Had he really slept for more than six hours? ¡°Hey, Tony,¡± Addie called, and he saw she was sitting at the counter on one of four tall, plastic-topped stools, each bearing an image of a can of Zap Soda¡ªdifferent flavors, of course. Bert was at the front of the store, locking the deadbolt and pulling down the metal security gates.

    Tony sat down on the grape-flavored soda stool. ¡°Hey, Addie. How¡¯d the footage come out?¡±

    She smiled, pushing a large box of pizza his way. ¡°Very well! I, uh, used the footage of your little scuffle as a hook and outro. Don¡¯t worry¡ªI obscured your face. I think it¡¯ll help drive traffic to the story.¡±

    Tony opened the box, saw more than half of a large, greasy cheese pizza, and immediately had to swallow to prevent drool from escaping his lips. Addie passed him a paper plate and a little cardboard box filled with parmesan and hot pepper packets. Tony took a slice and a packet of peppers. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re paying me in pizza for my performance, I¡¯m cool with that.¡±

    Ambling back from the front door, Bert responded before Addie could, ¡°Well, you work here now, right? It¡¯d be rude not to feed you!¡±

    ¡°He was talking about me filming him, Dad.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Just a joke.¡± Tony waved it off, liberally sprinkling peppers on his slice.

    ¡°Well, speaking of getting paid, one of my friends messaged me while you were napping, Tony.¡±

    Tony was mid-bite, struggling to avoid a groan of pleasure as the greasy, doughy pizza exploded all over his tastebuds. He held up a mechanical finger, chewing exaggeratedly as Addie giggled. Bert waved his hand, continuing without a response, ¡°I mentioned you on a chat group where a bunch of us store owners in the district hang out. I didn¡¯t say much¡ªjust that you were a guy looking to earn some bits doing odd jobs. I said you could handle yourself, that¡¯s all, but I think some folks read a lot into that little phrase.¡±

    ¡°Jeez, Dad, get to the punchline. What¡¯s the job?¡±

    By then, Tony had swallowed his bite and was also listening raptly. Bert grinned and shrugged. ¡°Well, if it sounds too dangerous, just let me know, agreed?¡± When Tony offered a quick nod, Bert continued, ¡°Rene over at Mercury Messengers says she and her neighbor, Eddie, from¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eddie¡¯s Subs?¡± Addie asked, leaning forward.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. They¡¯re having a problem with a fade that seems to have moved into the alley behind their shops.¡±

    ¡°A fade?¡± Tony¡¯s eyebrow shot up. ¡°Seriously? I¡¯ve never seen¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re ten times more likely to crop up in the Blast than the average rate in the greater metro area.¡± Addie sounded like she was reciting a statistic, and when she took a breath as if she had more to say, Bert hurried to fill in the quiet.

    ¡°They called Boxer Corp, but they¡¯re quoting a five business-day wait time for an investigation. Not wanting to wait, they went to the Helldogs, but the enforcer on their block wanted a thousand bits to deal with it. Anyway, Tony, they¡¯re offering five hundred to you if you¡¯re interested.¡±

    Tony held his pizza slice at bay, fighting off his urge to fill his mouth again; five hundred bits sounded like a nice dent in the price of a new eye. ¡°Uh, what¡¯s it doing?¡±

    Addie was chewing, but she looked ready to spout some more facts. Bert beat her to it. ¡°It¡¯s camped near the dumpster most of the day¡ªchases anyone who comes near. The problem with fades is¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re losing corporeality,¡± Addie blurted, her mouth still half full. ¡°They crave human touch, and if they phase into you and then shift states, it can create a heck of a mess!¡±

    Tony nodded. He knew that much. He¡¯d seen vids of fades¡ªpeople losing their physical state and shifting into an energy-like existence¡ªDust specters, as most called them. ¡°I mean, I was more wondering what people do about ¡¯em. Is there any helping¡ª¡±

    Addie shook her head. ¡°Nothing¡¯s worked. I¡¯ve read a lot about them. Plenty of corps are trying all sorts of things to stabilize or somehow utilize fades. If any have figured something out, they¡¯re keeping it quiet. I don¡¯t think they have, though. Otherwise, they¡¯d be prowling the Blast, looking for subjects like this one.¡±

    ¡°So? What am I supposed to do?¡±

    Bert shrugged. ¡°Get it to leave, at least. They don¡¯t communicate rationally when they get to this stage, Tony. They¡¯re not really people anymore. If you killed it, no one would¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill it, Tony!¡± Addie punched her dad¡¯s shoulder. ¡°They can be lured away! We could lead it to one of the abandoned lots¡ªone of the old skeleton buildings.¡±

    Tony narrowed his eye at her. ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± She dragged the word out like Tony was an idiot for asking. ¡°Do you think I¡¯ll pass up footage like that? A Good Samaritan trying to wrangle a fade? No, no, Tony, that¡¯s a story that will drive clicks to my page.¡±

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m getting paid¡­¡± Tony shrugged, deciding not to argue the point about being a ¡°Good Samaritan.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll take the job?¡± Bert grinned.

    ¡°Why are you so eager, Dad?¡± Suddenly, Addie¡¯s eyes went wide, and she made an ¡°O¡± with her mouth, reaching across the counter to slap Bert¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Rene! You¡¯ve always liked her!¡±

    Bert¡¯s big cheeks suddenly went crimson, and he shook his head, ¡°No, no¡ªit¡¯s nothing like that.¡±

    He didn¡¯t sound very convincing, and Tony laughed, reaching for another slice. ¡°Looks like I¡¯m taking the job.¡±

 8. Shepherd

    8 ¨C Shepherd

    Addie lay in her bed, watching the colorful lights from the neon signs flickering on her ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city outside her window. Her body was tired, but her mind was busy, far too busy for sleep. She was thinking of her story about the Royal Breeze, but she was also thinking about Tony. He was interesting and strange and definitely not who she¡¯d expected him to be. She knew if she said as much, her dad would tease her about judging books by their covers.

    The thought made her smile; she always teased him back about that one. ¡°Where would anyone even see a book these days?¡± she¡¯d ask, and her dad would get flustered and stomp over to the dusty old shelf in the far corner of the store where he had a dozen ancient paperbacks lined up. She loved that little routine. Of their many silly rehearsed disagreements, it was definitely in the top five. Tony was an odd sort of ¡°book,¡± and his ¡°cover¡± was turning out to be a lot different from what was on the inside.

    Of course, Addie realized she didn¡¯t know much about him, but it was nice to see he wasn¡¯t a chem fiend or a creep of some kind. It was nice to see that he had a head on his shoulders¡ªhis idea to distract T-bomb and keep her out of the crosshairs had been well-intentioned if premature. And he had manners! He¡¯d thanked her for the noodles, held more than one door for her, and been polite to Mr. Nguyen.

    ¡°Calm down,¡± she muttered, sighing as she rolled over to her other side. It wasn¡¯t like she was trying to build him up in her mind or that she was falling for him or anything¡ªshe was just happy he wasn¡¯t what she¡¯d expected. She hated things that were obvious. She hated routine and ordinary. It was nice, for once, to be wrong.

    She hoped that was the case¡ªthat Tony wouldn¡¯t wind up being a problem for her dad. He deserved to have something good work out for him, and Tony might just be the ticket. He could help her dad and free up a little more time for Addie. She had work to do and, she reminded herself, didn¡¯t know how much time she had left to do it.

    That thought drove Tony and other frivolous notions from her mind. She flopped onto her back and held up her right hand, spreading her fingers wide. As she stared, watching the neon lights flicker over her pale skin, her flesh seemed to turn semi-opaque, then translucent, and then her hand came apart¡ªlike her skin, bones, and blood had suddenly become steam. She stared at the empty air at the end of her wrist and the weird, bottomless darkness where her hand should be attached. After a few heartbeats, her hand came back¡ªtranslucent and colorless at first, then gradually more and more solid, more real.

    She felt like it was happening more frequently, but after a few sleepless nights, as she counted the occurrences, she could only conclude the same thing as ever: it was random. There were two consistencies, though: it always happened at night, and it was getting worse. It used to only happen to her finger. That was when she was twelve. Over the years, it had spread to her other fingers until last year, not long after her twentieth birthday. That was the first time her whole hand had done it¡ªphased in and out of existence.

    Even at twelve, she¡¯d known about fades. She¡¯d known what happened to them¡ªhow they ¡°phased¡± in and out of the world more and more rapidly until they eventually became dust wraiths or specters, depending on who was telling the story. So, she¡¯d immediately thought it was happening to her. She was becoming a fade. She¡¯d cried, of course, and when her dad came to her, asking why she was crying so much, she¡¯d lied and said she was missing her mom.

    Of course, she¡¯d wanted to tell him the truth¡ªwhat was scaring her¡ªbut she¡¯d seen her dad¡¯s depression after her mom died. He hadn¡¯t been himself back then. He¡¯d been someone else, a shallow, cheap imitation. She¡¯d lived through his slow return to normal and couldn¡¯t risk that happening again. She couldn¡¯t put that weight on him. Over the years, she¡¯d revised her opinion about her dad and what he could and couldn¡¯t handle, but she¡¯d gotten so used to the lie, the deception, that she still hadn¡¯t told him. What good would it do? There wasn¡¯t a cure for people becoming fades.

    She squeezed her wrist¡ªnice and solid. ¡°When are you going to go?¡± She chuckled at her macabre practice of viewing her body as an adversary. If she thought it would help, she¡¯d do a volunteer limb replacement, but that had been tried on fades. Cybernetic, bionic, dust-tech¡ªit didn¡¯t matter; they all ¡°faded.¡± Whatever was causing the separation from the real, solid world wasn¡¯t housed in the flesh.

    She flexed her fingers, making a fist, staring, waiting for the next fade. Sometimes, it never came before she fell asleep, and sometimes, it happened two or three times. One thing Addie knew was that she was fading slowly. She¡¯d done plenty of research, and some people faded in a matter of months. Addie figured, at her rate, her head and brain wouldn¡¯t start fading until she was in her thirties.

    That was when things would start getting really bad. When her brain started fading in and out, she¡¯d start to lose it, like the poor creature Tony was going to ¡°take care of¡± for Rene and Eddie. She was pretty happy that he hadn¡¯t argued about not killing it. ¡°Her or him,¡± she sighed. She didn¡¯t want to become an ¡°it¡± when she lost her mind, did she? She supposed the ¡°danger to society¡± aspect made it easier to dehumanize them. If a fade ¡°faded¡± and came back inside living flesh, it killed it¡ªinstant necrosis.

    There were theories about that: a fade couldn¡¯t exist within another person, so it would instantly phase out again, and in that process, it would take something vital from the flesh it had inhabited. Examination of the necrotic tissue revealed cells with disrupted structures and truncated telomeres. Addie groaned and flipped over, annoyed with herself for thinking about those things again.

    Despite her irritation, she couldn¡¯t blame herself; the scheduled encounter with the fade the next day was a rare and exciting opportunity. The only other time she¡¯d seen one in person, it had already been fleeing, chased out of the neighborhood by Beef and his boys. By the time she caught up, the fade was dead, lying in a puddle of blood just like any other poor slob the bangers might put down. A fade could be hurt and killed as long as the part of their body being shot or stabbed or whatever wasn¡¯t ¡°faded.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯ll happen to me,¡± Addie sighed, wondering if it would be Beef who did her in. She doubted it. Bangers had a shelf-life almost as short as fades. ¡°JJ?¡± She had to say his name to get his attention because she¡¯d put him to sleep.

    ¡°Yes, Addie?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s update my schedule. Tomorrow, I have an appointment with Tony. I¡¯m going to film him interacting with a fade.¡±

    ¡°What time?¡±

    ¡°Nine AM, but let¡¯s be sure to be downstairs with breakfast by eight. We¡¯ll make oatmeal with raisins for the two of us.¡±

    ¡°With brown sugar and Forest Milk?¡±

    ¡°Sure, JJ, if we have that brand. I think Dad bought some kind of generic ¡®plant milk¡¯ ¡¯cause he was at H&Q¡¯s instead of Lucky Mart.¡±

    ¡°Noted. And coffee? Should I remind the pot to brew¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course. Now, after we get done with Tony, I want to message Jamal Hoshock. I think he¡¯ll be much more forthcoming if we can get him to meet us away from the Royal Breeze. Speaking of which, be sure to run an analysis on our traffic for today¡¯s vid. If we get enough views, it¡¯ll give me an in with Jamal. I want you watching the net stats all night, okay? You better have a detailed report waiting for me when I wake.¡±

    Addie talked to JJ about her plans for another half an hour before her eyes became heavy enough to tug her consciousness away from her body, and she drifted off to sleep. JJ knew better than to prompt her at that hour, so their conversation went unfinished. When she woke the next morning, it was to the beat of Leeda Pop¡¯s Transcendence, and she rolled out of bed humming the tune with a silly smile.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    She flexed her fingers in front of her face, ensuring her hand hadn¡¯t left her for good in the middle of the night. As she smiled at her solid fingers, she saw a blinking ALERT in the lower-left corner of her AUI and narrowed her eyes. ¡°What¡¯s the problem, JJ?¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Addie. There isn¡¯t a problem that I¡¯m aware of.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s with the alert?¡±

    ¡°You set that protocol to notify you when your vids achieve new viewership metrics.¡±

    ¡°What? Display my page!¡±

    An AUI window flickered into existence before her, obscuring a large portion of her view. She saw her dashboard for her CityNet page¡ªa social media network that was working to incorporate all the different pub-nets in the North American states, provinces, districts, and independent cities. Addie hoped it would continue from there, connecting to similar conglomerations on other continents, but there was still a lot of stigma about the dangers of a universal net and the lingering fear of true-AI.

    Her follower count was flashing with little starbursts going up. She¡¯d broken through to the second tier¡ªfive hundred followers. It didn¡¯t sound too impressive, but five hundred regular views was a big deal for an up-and-comer who¡¯d only been posting stories for about a year. The most amazing fact about the number, though, was that the day before, she¡¯d been sitting at a hundred and ten! ¡°Holy¡ªJJ, is this real?¡±

    ¡°This is the correct net address for your dashboard, Addie; I don¡¯t detect any tell-tale phishing¡ª¡±

    ¡°Forget it, JJ. That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Addie was scrolling through the comments on her news story, and a slow frown turned down the corners of her mouth. They were all about Tony. The comments were from people in the district and neighboring ones making fun of T-Bomb and speculating about the origins of ¡°Shepherd.¡± Addie groaned, slapping her forehead. She¡¯d used a filter to obscure Tony¡¯s appearance, replacing his entire head with that of a dog¡ªA German shepherd.

    She¡¯d done it as a temporary fix while editing the video, but when she watched German shepherd Tony¡ªtongue lolling¡ªtossing T-bomb around, she¡¯d laughed so hard that she¡¯d left it in. ¡°I knew people would find it funny, but I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d pull this many views!¡± She¡¯d gotten more than seventy thousand, which was more than she¡¯d gotten in the previous month. ¡°This is insane, JJ!¡±

    ¡°I agree that some of those comments are needlessly derogatory!¡±

    ¡°Ugh! Quiet.¡± Addie jumped up and got dressed. Then, she grabbed a tray she often used to bring her father¡¯s lunch down to the shop and loaded it with coffee and oatmeal. ¡°Message my dad. Is Tony up?¡± She didn¡¯t want to barge into the storeroom if Tony was sleeping.

    ¡°Your father says he¡¯s up!¡±

    ¡°Beautiful!¡± JJ could have told her just about anything, and her mood wouldn¡¯t have fallen¡ªher page was taking off! Addie stuck her tongue between her teeth, concentrating as she carefully balanced the tray on one hand and pulled the door open with the other. With a sigh of relief, she started down the steps. At the bottom, she said, ¡°JJ, message my Da¡ª¡±

    The door opened, and Tony was there. ¡°Your dad said you might need me to get the door.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Tony!¡± Addie beamed at him, and he looked a little startled by the sunny expression.

    ¡°Good mood?¡±

    ¡°Very good! Come on; I brought you breakfast. We¡¯ll eat at the counter.¡±

    Tony eyed the tray as she walked by, and she could hear him inhaling. ¡°Smells good. Raisins?¡±

    She glanced at him askance. ¡°You can smell the raisins?¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°Nah, I just saw the black spots in the oats.¡±

    ¡°Do you like them?¡± Suddenly, Addie was reminded that not everyone had grown up with her father making them breakfast.

    ¡°Sure, I do. Am I a mutant?¡± As they walked into the shop proper, Addie saw her dad helping a customer in the electronic parts section. She let Tony¡¯s remark about mutants slide; he didn¡¯t know about her¡­issue. When Tony saw her dad, he nodded to the oatmeal and asked, ¡°What about your pops?¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t eat until lunch. He says he¡¯d outgrow his overalls if he ate three meals a day.¡± Addie set the tray on the counter and proceeded to doctor her oatmeal with some plant-based milk and brown sugar. She watched Tony copy her and then pushed a cup of coffee to him, wondering if he¡¯d add any of the creamer or sugar packets. He didn¡¯t, sipping it black with a satisfied sigh. Addie smiled, stirring two packets of sugar into her cup. ¡°So, are you ready?¡±

    ¡°To face the fade?¡±

    ¡°Yes! I can¡¯t wait to get some more footage of you in action. By the time they start to lose their minds, most fades are very quick, Tony. You¡¯re going to have to really move. You said you were fast, right?¡±

    He backed away from the counter and kicked his right leg up, parallel to his body, so his shin was right in front of his face. He hugged his knee to his chest, obviously performing some kind of stretch, and nodded. ¡°Let me loosen up, and I¡¯ll be ready to run.¡±

    Addie snorted, coughing as some coffee went toward her windpipe. After she¡¯d gathered herself, she said, ¡°Relax! Eat breakfast first, you nut.¡± She regarded him, noting he still wore the same tracksuit, and then considered the fact that he probably didn¡¯t own any other clothes. Or did he? She hadn¡¯t seen what he¡¯d had on when her dad found him. He scooped out a spoonful of oatmeal, blew on it several times, then slurped it up.

    His eyebrows shot up, and he made a pleased sound. ¡°Fantastic!¡±

    Addie smiled. ¡°You¡¯re in a good mood, too, aren¡¯t you? Sleep well?¡±

    ¡°Well, not great, but I guess your cheer is contagious. Care to share why you¡¯re so chipper?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Addie tried to imagine Tony¡¯s reaction to the video and realized she didn¡¯t know him well enough to guess what it would be. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll share something with you if you promise not to be angry.¡±

    He took another bite, narrowing his eye at her as he leaned his mechanical elbow on the countertop. ¡°Now, why would whatever has you in a good mood also be something that could potentially make me angry?¡± He scrunched up his brow, and Addie swore she could see the gears turning inside his brain. It made her laugh, and he sighed, shaking his head. ¡°I guess I can¡¯t figure it out. Okay, I promise.¡±

    ¡°Yay!¡± Addie laughed and reached under the counter, digging out one of the old tablets her dad might or might not ever sell. She woke it up, set the display to non-AUI, and then connected it to the store¡¯s private net. ¡°Sec,¡± she said while she had JJ transfer the vid file. Tony continued to eat while she was working on the deck, and before she was ready to hit play, she heard his spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl.

    She looked at him, at his angular face and how his broad shoulder bones stretched the large track jacket to the limits. Tony was a big guy, and he didn¡¯t have any extra fat to burn. Addie passed her bowl toward him over the counter. ¡°I¡¯m not very hungry. Do you want it?¡±

    In an expression she was beginning to get used to, he arched his left eyebrow and asked, ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± She paused what she was doing and gave him an appraising look. ¡°Don¡¯t get too full to run, though.¡±

    ¡°Not a chance.¡± He started eating, and Addie propped the tablet up so he could see the screen and then pushed play. Tony leaned over the oatmeal bowl, eating it automatically while he watched the video of himself, with the head of a happy German shepherd, making a fool of T-bomb. He snorted softly, clearly amused, as he ate. When it was over, he looked at her with that single silvery eye of his. ¡°You¡¯re in a good mood ¡¯cause you turned me into a dog-man?¡±

    ¡°Well, not exactly. I¡¯m in a good mood because that video got me more page views than I¡¯ve had in the last month. I mean, so far¡ªthey¡¯re still racking up!¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± He snorted again, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯ve never gotten into the whole social media scene. Anyway, happy to help.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief because you¡¯re going to become a feature on my news page.¡±

    ¡°Huh? How am I news?¡±

    ¡°Well, today, you¡¯re helping the neighborhood with a lingering fade. I¡¯ll hook people with the footage of you leading the poor thing to a safer area, and then I¡¯ll do a piece about the debilitating effects of fades¡ªon themselves, the people who love them, and the neighborhoods where they linger. I¡¯ll talk about the leading theories about their causes and about how there¡¯s not much research being done to help them because the corpos aren¡¯t seeing enough profit in it.¡±

    ¡°And do I get to keep the, uh, dog head?¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯ll need to keep it, yeah. People in the comments are already calling you ¡®Shepherd.¡¯ I think it¡¯s pretty funny, anyway, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Tony shrugged, scraping the last of her oatmeal out of the bowl. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine with it. Just don¡¯t show my face. Not until I¡¯ve dealt with some stuff.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Having finished with his customer, her dad walked behind the counter. ¡°Good morning, sweetie.¡± He looked at the tray and smiled. ¡°Nice of you to bring breakfast for my new employee, here. Are you two going after that fade soon?¡±

    Tony stifled a burp, holding his fist to his mouth, then stood and nodded. ¡°Ready when you are, Boss Junior.¡±

    Her dad laughed. ¡°I like it. Boss Junior!¡± He gave Addie a playful punch, and she scowled, even though she knew that was what they were fishing for.

    Tony chuckled and pulled his sunglasses out of his tracksuit¡¯s pocket. ¡°Show me the route to the safe area first. If these things are as fast as you say, I''ll want to plan my run.¡±

    Her dad regarded Tony for a moment. ¡°They¡¯re quick, Tony. If you can¡¯t get away, start running through doors; they can¡¯t always control when they fade, so you can slow ¡®em down that way.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± He jerked his chin toward the exit. ¡°Shall we?¡±

    ¡°Sec!¡± Addie picked up the bowls and Tony¡¯s empty coffee cup. ¡°Let me take this up and get my drone.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll go outside and stretch. See you in a minute.¡±

 9. Dubious Backing

    9 ¨C Dubious Backing

    As they walked, Tony sipped from a can of Orange Nuke he¡¯d picked up at Mr. Nguyen¡¯s bodega. He¡¯d paid using a couple of the extra bits he¡¯d gotten from Addie¡¯s Dad for the gun. He and Addie were looking for Beef and his crew so Tony could pay the banger off before he got too busy, forgot, and wound up getting on the Helldog¡¯s bad side¡ªsomething Addie said could happen despite her connection to Beef and his lackeys.

    Addie, as usual, was leading the way. ¡°This time of day, they¡¯re usually hanging around near Sunny¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Sunny¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s a diner; they mostly serve breakfast food, but Dirty Hank makes a good protein burger, too.¡±

    Tony snorted at the outrageous name for a cook. ¡°You buy food from a guy named Dirty Hank?¡±

    Addie flicked some loose strands of hair out of her eyes as she turned to look at Tony with a little grin. ¡°It sounds pretty bad, doesn¡¯t it? He got the name from his gang days. Rumor around the district is that he used to ¡®clean¡¯ messes for some of the shot callers.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no shit? And now he runs a diner?¡±

    ¡°Yep. I guess he met the right girl. He and Miss Alice have been running Sunny¡¯s for as long as I can remember.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Tony took another pull of the absurdly sweet, orange-flavored energy drink and sighed, trying to keep his mind from slipping off to dangerous places at the mention of meeting the ¡°right girl.¡± He¡¯d done that, met the right one, hadn¡¯t he? She¡¯d been right enough to start planning a getaway¡ªright enough to think about life away from his friends, his enablers. Was that what they were? Sometimes, he wasn¡¯t sure. Maybe he¡¯d been the enabler.

    ¡°Deep thoughts?¡± Tony looked over to see Addie staring at him sideways. She¡¯d been different towards him that morning, far friendlier and decidedly more upbeat.

    ¡°You worried about the star of your show?¡± He almost took the words back as they came out, wondering if he was pushing his luck¡ªbeing too playful. She allayed that fear, though, by laughing.

    ¡°My German shepherd action star? Yeah, of course! I need you upbeat for the camera.¡± She shook her head, clearly amused, but then almost stumbled as she sidestepped a woman trying to fix a motorized wheelchair. ¡°Oof! Lauren! Right on the corner? I didn¡¯t see you when I came around.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t choose where this old thing broke down!¡± Lauren looked to be a middle-aged woman with two cybernetic legs that had long ago lost any sheen of chrome they might have once had. They didn¡¯t seem to work at all, forcing her to shift around with her hands on her butt as she worked her way around the chair, fidgeting with wires and gears.

    ¡°Anything we can do?¡± Addie asked, leaning close to the chair and peering at the battery bank.

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s a loose chain; I can fix it.¡± The woman looked up with grease-smudged, swarthy cheeks and peered at Tony. ¡°Who¡¯s the tall drink of whiskey?¡±

    Addie snorted. ¡°I like that one! Care if I steal it?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come up with it. Do what you want.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Anyway, this is Tony. He works for my dad.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Nice to meet you. Lauren, was it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Anyway, get lost, would ya? Nobody gonna throw me any bits with you two standing around.¡±

    Addie waved and started walking, calling breezily, ¡°Bye, Lauren.¡± She turned to Tony. ¡°Anyway, about you being the star of my show¡ªI was thinking.¡±

    ¡°Uh-oh.¡±

    ¡°Are you okay with people in the neighborhood figuring out it¡¯s you? I mean, most of my views are from the greater metroplex, so most people don¡¯t have a clue who I am in real life and won¡¯t trace you back to me. If someone like Beef saw you in one of my vids, though, he¡¯d put it together pretty fast.¡±

    ¡°I dunno. I don¡¯t want any trouble to come back to Bert. Like, yesterday when I pissed T-bomb off; if he knew where I worked¡­¡± Tony trailed off, letting Addie connect the dots.

    ¡°Well, maybe that¡¯s something we should bring up with Beef.¡±

    ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re about to talk to Beef, and he¡¯s an enforcer for the Helldogs. I¡¯d say, as long as you stay on their good side, we¡¯ll be all right. Other gangs won¡¯t come onto Helldog turf. I mean, I¡¯m just saying, if we don¡¯t go around starting trouble, I don¡¯t think we need to worry too much.¡±

    ¡°Well, sure, I guess. I mean, yeah, I didn¡¯t think you wanted to start a fight club or anything.¡±

    Addie laughed and pointed across the street. ¡°There¡¯s Sunny¡¯s.¡±

    Tony turned his head and squinted, irritated that his forty-thousand-bit Aurora Tech optics¡ªwhat was left of them¡ªcouldn¡¯t zoom or compensate for the glare or anything, thanks to that asshole, Chavez, pulling his data port and all his software. He made out a few darkly clad individuals sitting at a sidewalk table. ¡°Is that them? They eat right there in the open?¡± He was imagining drive-bys and thinking about how vulnerable the bangers were on the street like that.

    ¡°Yeah. Bangers have to show the world they aren¡¯t afraid, Tony. It¡¯s actually a pretty fascinating sub-culture. If I have time, I might do a docuseries on ¡¯em.¡±

    Tony frowned at Addie as they waited for a gap in traffic so they could cross the street. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you have time?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she shrugged, ¡°I¡¯m just busy, you know? The news never stops!¡± She chuckled¡ªa new sound to Tony, almost like she was nervous. Before he could respond, she hurried across in the wake of an automated delivery truck. When they mounted the opposite sidewalk, she waved her hand over her head and called out, ¡°Beef!¡±

    The big man perked up at the sound of her voice, straightening out of a slump-shouldered slouch. He had a plate before him, but it was devoid of anything but a few smears of salsa. His two cronies, Reject and the skinny one with the breather, were sitting on either side of him, and they both stared hard at Tony as he walked up behind Addie. Beef sucked his teeth, leaning back in his chair, which threatened to collapse, protesting with several loud squeaks. ¡°What¡¯s up, Ads?¡±

    ¡°Well, Tony wants to pay you, and then I want to run something by you.¡±

    Tony dug the bit-locker out of his pocket and tossed it to Beef. The guy didn¡¯t even flinch¡ªeither he had the slowest reflexes in town, or he didn¡¯t intend to catch anything. It didn¡¯t matter, though, because the skinny guy snatched it out of the air.

    ¡°A bit-locker?¡± he sneered. ¡°This guy doesn¡¯t even have a bit-vault, boss!¡±

    ¡°Quiet, Runt. Just get the bits he owes me off it.¡± It was with that statement that Tony finally realized that ¡°Runt¡± wasn¡¯t just an adjective but, rather, was the skinny guy¡¯s name. The fellow pulled a wire out of his wrist and plugged it into the little port on the bit-locker.

    ¡°A hundred and thirty-seven bits on here, Beef.¡±

    ¡°Just take the hundred he owes,¡± Addie said. ¡°You promised, Beef.¡±Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Whatever.¡± He waved his hand dismissively. ¡°What you wanna talk about, Ads? We finally gonna have that nice Italian dinner?¡±

    Addie folded her arms over her chest, hiding the dancing skeleton graphic on her T-shirt. ¡°Nope. Listen, please; I¡¯ve got a good thing going with my news page. I¡¯m starting to get some serious views.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Beef arched his nearly hairless eyebrows, carving vast furrows into his meaty forehead.

    ¡°Yeah, but you know how, when I leave the neighborhood, some folks mess with me? Like the other day when Domino¡¯s guys chased me?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but I already told you¡ªI can¡¯t go into their turf to pay ¡®em back without starting something really¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking. It¡¯s Tony.¡± She jerked her chin Tony¡¯s way. ¡°He defended me yesterday, and, well, he might do it again. I¡¯m not saying we¡¯re going to go looking for trouble, but I¡¯m getting a lot of views from the vid. If one of the other gangs gets mad at him, they won¡¯t dare come onto your turf to get him, will they? I mean, we don¡¯t want my dad¡¯s store to be in danger.¡±

    ¡°Look, sweet cheeks¡ª¡± Beef leaned forward, clearly loving being the center of Addie¡¯s attention, ¡°¡ªif you and corpo-rat, here, go around stirring up other gangs, there¡¯s only so much I can do. I mean, if you¡¯re just defending yourselves, though¡­¡± He pondered for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Yeah, they better not come onto my street for something like that.¡± He shifted his gaze to Tony. ¡°So, rat, you¡¯re some kind of tough guy, huh?¡±

    Tony could smell a trap when he saw one. ¡°Nah. I just didn¡¯t think that banger should be jamming his finger into Adelaide¡¯s chest.¡±

    ¡°He what?¡± Beef was on his feet. ¡°What banger, Ads?¡±

    Addie gave Tony a look that said she thought he was borderline braindead and then turned to Beef. ¡°So now you care? Domino¡¯s guys would¡¯ve done worse than that! I¡¯ve been slapped, kicked, had my shirt ripped, my hair pulled, had things taken from me¡ªyou never did anything any of those times. So, what, now that Tony stands up for me one time, you care?¡±

    Beef shrugged and sat down. ¡°Hey, I get mad when that stuff happens to you. It takes my brain a second to catch up and remember I can¡¯t really go out and start a war just ¡¯cause you¡¯re poking your nose around the wrong neighborhoods.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice to know you¡¯re going to be upset for a few seconds when you hear about me getting killed.¡±

    The skinny guy, Runt, said, ¡°Ah, he¡¯ll be upset longer than a few seconds.¡±

    Beef¡¯s meaty fist came down on Runt¡¯s thigh like a sledgehammer hitting a ham. Runt moaned and stood, hopping on his uninjured leg as he rubbed the charley horse. ¡°Why¡¯d ya do that, Beef?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a dumbass,¡± the big banger growled, then he turned back to Tony. ¡°Listen, corpo-rat, if you wanna go around acting like a tough guy, you need to be ready to back up that swag, you hear?¡±

    Tony narrowed his good eye and slowly shook his head. ¡°Not exactly following¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean, if you piss some guy off, and he brings some buddies around looking to rearrange your face, I don¡¯t want to have to fight ¡¯em all off. I might just walk him over to Bert¡¯s and tell him he can fight you fair and square, one-on-one. I figure if you run your mouth too much and the wrong guy comes calling, I¡¯ll let him give you a good, solid beatdown, and then maybe all this nonsense will end. You get me now?¡±

    ¡°Nonsense, Beef?¡± Addie interjected. ¡°I¡¯m trying to help people! I¡¯m trying to bring awareness¡ª¡±

    ¡°Save it, Ads.¡± Beef waved his hand. ¡°You and that little flying camera aren¡¯t gonna change shit, and you know it. the Blast¡¯s been like this since before we were born, and it¡¯s only getting worse.¡± Addie¡¯s face fell, and she looked away, crossing her arms again. Beef sighed and scowled his deep-set, dark eyes. ¡°If you want me to work with you on this, then give me a minute with this corpo-rat. I wanna talk to him, mano a mano.¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Tony put his hand on her shoulder, jostling her gently. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Addie.¡±

    ¡°Ugh! Fine! I¡¯ll go and order a coffee to go.¡± She glared around the table and Reject, silent this whole time, lifted a gloved hand to wave at her. She sighed heavily, shaking her head, and went into the diner.

    ¡°She¡¯s probably the only genuinely good person I know, corpo-rat, and she¡¯s constantly sticking that pretty face too close to the fire. You know what I mean?¡±

    Thinking about the Royal Breeze Apartments, Tony nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°So, I can¡¯t walk around with her, and neither can my boys, not without getting into a turf war, but you can. You cop?¡±

    ¡°Cop?¡± Tony had heard the slang but wasn¡¯t used to it. Before Beef could cuss him out for being stupid, he followed up with, ¡°Yeah, I get it.¡±

    ¡°So, the problem is, corpo-rat, that I don¡¯t want her to start getting a false sense of security. I don¡¯t want her thinking your skinny ass is gonna be able to bail her out of every problem she runs into. I see you got your arm replaced, but do you know how to use it? Can you fight? Do you know how to get the hell out of the shit when it starts rising up past your knees? You know you can¡¯t fight a bullet, right?¡±

    Tony looked from Beef to Runt to Reject and nodded. ¡°Yeah, I know how to read a situation.¡±

    ¡°Really? ¡¯Cause to me, you look like a broke down, scrawny burn-out that got dumped like a piece of garbage.¡±

    Tony folded his arms over his chest, scowling. Scrawny? He had to be nearly as tall as Beef, and he¡¯d taken pride in building up lean muscles over the years. ¡°The tracksuit¡¯s roomy. I¡¯m not a pushover.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? You can fight with one eye?¡±

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not ideal, but I trained for situations where I had limited sensory input¡ª¡±

    Beef mocked him in a singsong voice, ¡°Limited sensory input!¡± He laughed, his enormous belly jiggling up and down with the motion while Runt and Reject snickered. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll give you a simple test. You ever had a slap off?¡±

    Tony sighed. He hadn¡¯t, but he had an idea what it would entail. ¡°Just tell me what I have to do.¡±

    ¡°Well, it''s something I like to make my boys do, to keep ¡¯em sharp. Right, boys?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Reject nodded.

    ¡°Yes, Beef!¡± Runt stepped closer, reaching up to adjust his breather.

    ¡°So, corpo-rat, stand back there, away from the table, and square up with Runt. The first one to slap the other twice wins. Only face shots count. If you can do that, I¡¯ll back you up so long as you¡¯re working to protect Addie.¡±

    Tony stepped back, but his mind was working against itself. Half of him wanted to slap the shit out of all three of the bangers, but the other half was wondering what the hell he was doing. Why did he care if this guy gave him his approval? Why did he even care about the whole thing? Did he really want to follow that girl around and help her with her videos? It was true that he was stuck in the district for now, but he wasn¡¯t going to stay. He had shit to do, a life to get back to. This whole thing seemed like a waste¡ª

    ¡°Go!¡± Beef barked, and suddenly Runt was weaving toward Tony, his movements surprisingly graceful and his feints almost too quick to track. Tony backed away, immediately on the defensive, thanks to his wandering mind. He wasn¡¯t exactly his old self; his new arm was a little clunky, a little unrefined in its movements, and he definitely did have a depth perception problem. On top of that, he¡¯d spent the last few years with plenty of Dust to fire off his high-tier wire job. His new reactor couldn¡¯t even make his pinky twitch.

    Even with all that considered, Tony knew how to fight. He¡¯d been fighting since he was nine years old when his uncle first took him to the gym. His uncle¡ªTony grinned at the memory, weaving back to avoid a surprisingly quick slap from Runt. He almost backed into a pedestrian, but Beef stood up and hollered, ¡°Get out of the damn way!¡± As a testament to his influence in the neighborhood, people stopped walking near Sunny¡¯s, even crossing the street to avoid interfering with Runt and Tony.

    Meanwhile, Tony¡¯s mind had wandered back to his uncle¡ªwhat a fighter! He¡¯d taken three belts on the amateur circuit in Lower Manhattan, got picked up by an agent, and knocked out three pros in a row before his ¡°accident.¡± That memory took the grin off Tony¡¯s face¡ªhis uncle crawling up the stoop, both knees broken and his hands mangled to shit. That was the end of his barebones career, and there was no way he could compete in the augmented divisions¡ªnot without winding up dead like most of those poor bastards.

    Tony had been weaving away from Runt¡¯s blows, but when the little guy surprised him and slipped a shot in on his right¡ªblind¡ªside, grazing his fingertips along his jaw, Tony decided to get serious. Beef shouted, ¡°That¡¯s one!¡±

    Tony slapped Runt¡¯s next shot aside with his left hand and lashed out with his mechanical arm, careful to pull the blow, allowing his fingers to tap the guy¡¯s breathing apparatus. ¡°One to one!¡± Beef grunted. Tony¡¯s back was to the diner, but he heard the door open and Addie curse under her breath. He decided he¡¯d been playing around enough and sidestepped Runt¡¯s next flurry, using his height and reach to make him look a little silly as he snaked his left hand in and tapped him on the forehead.

    ¡°Good enough,¡± Beef said. ¡°Took you a while, but I guess you aren¡¯t a total clutz. You should get a new eye, though.¡±

    ¡°Is this what you wanted to ¡®talk¡¯ about?¡± Addie made air quotes, glaring at Beef.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want you walking around with a total goon thinking you¡¯ve got backup.¡±

    ¡°Ugh! You¡¯re so lame, Randal! If you¡¯d just look at my page, you could have seen a vid of him making T-bomb look even sillier than Lester.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Runt howled. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡± Reject giggled, and Runt glared at him, ¡°Shut up, Jerry.¡±

    ¡°Both of you shut up!¡± Beef growled. ¡°Give this corpo-rat his bit-locker. We¡¯re late.¡± Addie snorted, but when he glared at her and said, ¡°What?¡± she just shook her head, smiling as she sipped coffee from a paper cup.

    ¡°Nothing. See you later.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell the doc I¡¯d be coming around?¡±

    ¡°I told him, but he said he¡¯s short. Don¡¯t hurt him, okay? We need him on the block, Rand¡ªBeef.¡±

    ¡°I gotta send a message somehow.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, doll.¡± With that, the trio stood and shuffled down the sidewalk. As they passed by Tony, Runt tossed the bit-locker to him. To his surprise, the skinny, breather-wearing banger gave Tony a respectful nod.

    Addie came up beside him. ¡°Sorry about that, Tony. I was afraid he¡¯d pull some macho nonsense when he asked me to leave. I was watching, ready to, um, intervene, but I wasn¡¯t too worried about Lester hurting you.¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°At least I¡¯m loosened up. Ready to go see that fade?¡±

    Addie smiled, swallowing a mouthful of coffee with a satisfied sigh. ¡°Ready!¡±

 10. Fade

    10 ¨C Fade

    ¡°JJ, initiate dust link.¡± As her body tingled slightly and her sense of self expanded to include her little drone, Addie sent it up, out of her hands, and into the air behind her.

    ¡°JJ¡¯s your PAI?¡± Tony asked, eyeing the softly humming egg-shaped device.

    ¡°Yep. He¡¯s kind of out of date but does everything I need.¡±

    ¡°I do my best, Addie,¡± JJ said. The first time he¡¯d said that, back when she¡¯d gotten him for her sixteenth birthday, she¡¯d been impressed, but it was his go-to response whenever he heard Addie talking about his capabilities, nothing clever.

    ¡°And the egg? You have a name for that fancy piece?¡± Tony leaned closer to her drone, peering closely at its smooth gray-black surface. ¡°Where are the cams?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t settled on a name. I called it Humpty for a long time, but that was when I was a kid.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Bert told me you got this from your granny, yeah?¡±

    ¡°My grandma, yeah.¡± Addie sniffed, made nervous by the tender subject, and pointed to the drone. ¡°The cams don¡¯t show until I start using them.¡±

    Tony turned back to the street and pointed to the messenger shop on the far side. ¡°So, how¡¯s this work? You gonna do the talking, or just me? I mean, are you really just reporting, or are you in on this with¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all you, Tony. Try to pretend I¡¯m not here.¡±

    He sighed, and Addie wished she knew him well enough to tell if it was an irritated sigh, a tired sigh, or just a resigned sigh. Regardless, he put his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit jacket and started across the street. Addie flicked her attention to the drone and felt her world expand further as she looked through its ring of high-definition cams. She sent the drone ahead, watching Tony from a relatively close forty-five-degree angle. She had to flick back to ensure she didn¡¯t get smashed into paste by the traffic as she hurried across the street.

    In her drone¡¯s feed, she could hear the chime as Tony pulled the door open, and she focused partially on the cam feed, carefully guiding the drone inside with him. He walked up to the counter where Sheila Krantz¡ªa woman who babysat Addie a time or two back in the day¡ªsat waiting to take messenger orders. ¡°Can I help you, hon?¡±

    Addie stopped outside the shop, leaning her shoulder against the wall beside the door as she listened in. Tony, hands still in his pockets, sauntered forward and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to help Rene with a fade. I guess it¡¯s in the alley?¡±

    ¡°Oh? You¡¯re the guy working for Bert?¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Is that Addie¡¯s drone following you around?¡±

    Tony chuckled and nodded. ¡°Yeah. She wants to get some footage of the fade.¡±

    ¡°Well, Rene¡¯s in the back room with some lady who came in here freaking out earlier. I guess she¡¯s related to the fade.¡± Sheila swiveled in her chair and touched a button. A buzzer sounded, unlocking the door that would let Tony through to the backside of the counter. ¡°Hurry, or it¡¯ll lock again.¡±

    Tony snatched the door open and slipped through, holding it for the drone. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, but Addie couldn¡¯t see through the shades to guess what he was thinking. He nodded to Sheila, then walked through the gray, metallic door, down a long, dim hallway, past a cluttered office, and into a back room where half a dozen e-bikes were in various states of repair. Rene stood near the alley door, talking to a woman who appeared to have been recently crying.

    ¡°This is so weird, JJ. I feel like I should be asking questions, but I¡¯m trying just to let events unfold, you know?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, Addie.¡±

    Addie snorted. ¡°I hope Tony can loosen up his tongue a little. I¡¯d like to interview this woman, but¡ª¡± Addie stopped talking as Rene turned to regard Tony.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± She didn¡¯t sound happy to have a stranger walking into her shop. Her eyes drifted to the drone, and her frown deepened.

    ¡°I¡¯m Tony. Here for the, uh, fade.¡± He nodded to the woman with the bleary, bloodshot eyes. ¡°Sorry for your, uh¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, save it! Murderer!¡±

    ¡°Uh-oh,¡± Addie said, wondering if she would need to intervene after all.

    Tony didn¡¯t react to the woman¡¯s indignation, but he turned to Rene, and as Addie moved the drone to capture a side view, she saw he had his eyebrow arched questioningly. Rene cleared her throat and put a hand on the woman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Now, I already told you, I don¡¯t want anyone to get killed.¡± She looked at Tony. ¡°What, um, what are you planning to do?¡±

    ¡°Well, Addie showed me an abandoned building a few blocks from here¡ªa, uh, ¡®skeleton¡¯ building.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The woman looked at Rene, her eyes wide, a little uncertainty sapping the anger from her expression.

    ¡°That¡¯s what the kids call those buildings that are just plasteel girders and floors. You know, the ones that were under construction before the Blast.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Right. I guess the rads and dust are pretty bad in there.¡± He stepped closer to the two women and hurriedly added, ¡°Which won¡¯t hurt your, uh, relative¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sister!¡±

    ¡°Right, well, it won¡¯t hurt your sister. She should be able to transition without harming anyone if I can lure her in there.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t want her to transition!¡± the woman wailed, holding her hands up to her ears and squeezing her eyes shut as though she could block out her problems. She wore a dirty pink sweater, and the cuffs hung over her hands, making the improvised earmuffs look all the more sad¡ªpathetic but sweet in a way. Watching her made Addie wonder how her dad would react when she got close to fading.

    ¡°I¡¯m real sorry, ma¡¯am,¡± Tony said, and he sounded perfectly sincere.

    ¡°Who talks that way?¡± Addie muttered.

    Tony continued, moving closer to the grieving sister, ¡°It¡¯ll be better for her if I lure her away from here, don¡¯t you think? You don¡¯t want her to hurt anyone, do you?¡±

    The woman sniffed and shook her head. ¡°No,¡± she whispered. ¡°I just, I just wish I hadn¡¯t chased her out. She could still kind of reason back then. I told her the screams were keeping me up, and they were, but I should¡¯ve just¡­¡± She trailed off, sniffing and softly sobbing.

    Rene saved Addie from crawling out of her skin with curiosity by asking, ¡°What screams, sweetie?¡±

    ¡°When she first started fading, she said it burned like she was on fire. I think the pain is what made her lose her mind, not the fades.¡±

    ¡°Now, this is getting interesting!¡± Addie said. ¡°Okay, I need to get in there and ask some more questions.¡±

    ¡°But, Addie,¡± JJ tried to object, ¡°I thought you were only going to observe¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush! You¡¯re not my producer.¡± Addie hurried into the shop and waved at Sheila. ¡°Let me back there, Sheila¡ªI gotta talk to a witness.¡±

    Sheila rolled her eyes but pushed the buzzer. ¡°Don¡¯t piss Rene off.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Addie hurried through, still watching the drama unfold through her drone. Tony was inches away from stepping through the door, but he was having trouble convincing the sister to stay back.

    ¡°If I¡¯m going to get her to chase me, I gotta make sure nobody else distracts her,¡± he said as Addie entered the room.

    ¡°Hey, Rene.¡±

    Tony turned to regard her, but his face was, as usual, very hard to read. Rene looked at her and sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t really want to get the whole circus here when I talked to your dad.¡± She jerked her thumb at the drone. ¡°Is that necessary?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ll only use pertinent footage.¡± Addie stepped closer and reached out to gently rub the grieving woman¡¯s shoulder. Her pink sweater felt exactly as she¡¯d imagined it would: soft and smooth¡ªsome kind of poly blend. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about your loss, ma¡¯am. Do you think you could tell me your name?¡±

    ¡°Bonnie,¡± she sobbed, sniffing noisily as she opened her eyes to regard Addie. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an investigative reporter, Bonnie, and I¡¯m trying to shed more light on the troubles fades and their families go through. It¡¯s an issue that¡¯s been ignored for far too long, don¡¯t you think? I¡¯m assuming none of the corporate clinics offered you any aid?¡±

    ¡°None! They turned us away, even when her troubles first started, and Deirdre still had her¡­faculties.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°And you said your sister¡ªDeirdre, right?¡ªwas in a great deal of pain?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Every night, she¡¯d scream and scream. She said it felt like her flesh and bones were burning away.¡± While she spoke, Tony sighed and leaned against the door, reaching up to adjust his shades, pushing them higher on the bridge of his nose. Addie guessed he was probably irritated to have her steamroll in there, but this information was too interesting to let slip away.

    ¡°How frequently did she fade at first?¡±

    ¡°A few times a night, but it was just parts of her¡ªsometimes her feet, sometimes her fingers. I think the first time her head faded was when things really went downhill. She said she saw things.¡± Bonnie shuddered, and her brows narrowed. ¡°You say you¡¯re a reporter? Where the hell were you when I was walking from one Boxer clinic to another, getting turned away for meds? Deirdre was a Boxer employee, and they wouldn¡¯t help at all!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry to hear that, Bonnie. I¡¯m an independent journalist, and I didn¡¯t know about your plight. I¡¯m spread awfully thin down here¡ªthere are a lot of problems in the district, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware. Can you tell me what meds you were trying to get?¡±

    ¡°Anything! Everything! Mostly, I was trying to get something to help Deirdre sleep¡ªsomething for the pain would¡¯ve been nice. They just kept denying our request.¡± She switched into a nasally mocking voice, ¡°¡®There¡¯s no known treatment for fades, sorry, ma¡¯am.¡¯ Well? If they can¡¯t treat the fades, couldn¡¯t they treat the symptoms?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an excellent question. Did you ask them?¡±

    ¡°Of course, but you know how the corpos are. As soon as I got a little heated, they had me escorted out. I never got a good answer. I suppose it¡¯s the same old story; if there¡¯s no profit, there¡¯s no point.¡±

    ¡°Considering the corporate deductions Deirdre no doubt paid, I don¡¯t think you were unreasonable in expecting a little help. Can you tell me how long Deirdre¡¯s been fighting this condition?¡±

    ¡°Next month, it¡¯ll be a year. I remember because it was just after the anniversary of my Robbie¡¯s death when she had the first fit.¡±

    Addie nodded, noted Tony stifling a yawn, and said, ¡°Bonnie, thank you so much for letting me interview you. Do you mind if I ping you for your contact information? I¡¯d like to follow up on some details, but I think Tony here should help your sister find a safer location. We don¡¯t want someone to get hurt while she¡¯s loose in this alley, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Bonnie sighed and scrubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. ¡°Yeah, I guess so. I just wish I could say goodbye¡ªhug her one more time.¡±

    ¡°But that could get you killed, sweetie,¡± Addie said, accidentally slipping out of her ¡®reporter¡¯ persona. Bonnie¡¯s shoulders started to shake and quiver up and down as another bout of sobs slipped out of her, and Addie couldn¡¯t resist pulling her into a hug. The poor woman started weeping in earnest as she collapsed into her.

    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± Rene said, putting a hand on Addie¡¯s back as though she could lend more support. ¡°Oh, my.¡±

    ¡°Go, Tony,¡± Addie said over the top of Bonnie¡¯s bedraggled hair. As he nodded and slipped out the door, she called, ¡°Hold it open for my drone!¡± The door opened a little, and then her drone slipped out. With most of her consciousness, she watched Tony look up and down the alley while, with her body, she comforted Bonnie.

    ***

    Tony scanned the alley, his eye skimming over the dumpsters, piles of plastic containers, and stacks of crates. He wished he had a PAI to interface with his optics so he could analyze the shadows and look for patterns, but he didn¡¯t. ¡°Don¡¯t even have optics, really, just an optic,¡± he chuckled.

    When he didn¡¯t see anything moving, he stepped out of the shadow of the building into the center of the alley to get a better view. A cat yowled, and he heard the clatter of empty cans on concrete, drawing his attention to a large dumpster a little further into the alley. He started for it, wondering what to look for. Would the fade just look like a person? He¡¯d asked Addie, and she¡¯d said yes; the pictures she¡¯d seen on the net looked like people, but Tony didn¡¯t quite buy it. How did people know it was a fade, then?

    A shadow on his blind side made him jump and whirl, but it was just Addie¡¯s drone humming softly in the air above him. He almost flipped her the bird but restrained himself; she was a sweet kid and definitely hadn¡¯t meant to startle him. ¡°Kid,¡± he chuckled. How old was she? Not too much younger than he was, but she gave off a certain vibe, almost like a quixotic idealism, with all her talk of saving the world with her news stories. It was sweet, but it was also more than a little na?ve.

    Another clatter from the dumpster ahead brought Tony back to the present, and he focused on the shadows beyond the big plasteel container. He supposed he didn¡¯t need to be sneaking, not if he wanted to get the thing¡¯s attention, so he whistled and called out, ¡°Yo! Who¡¯s there?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± a high-pitched, breathy voice replied, and then, a woman stepped out from behind the dumpster, and Tony took a step back. She made him think of speed fiends, the way she moved, all jerky and twitchy, with fingers splayed and her back in an awkward, painful-looking twist, angled one way at the hips and another at her neck. Speed fiends always had tell-tale bloodshot eyes, jittery fingers, missing teeth, and stained lips, but this lady just looked¡­wrong.

    Her dark brown eyes darted left, right, up, down. She worked her mouth like she had a wad of rubber in there, and she couldn¡¯t quite chew it down to swallow it. When she moved away from the dumpster in her loose, thigh-length T-shirt, hanging in ragged strips, she seemed to skip a step¡ªone second, a foot from the dumpster, the next, three feet. The weird, jerky movement startled Tony to the point where he cussed and started backpedaling. He tried to remember the fade¡¯s name. ¡°Uh, Deirdre?¡±

    Addie¡¯s drone hummed as it swooped past him, circling the woman, no doubt getting some sweet three-hundred-sixty-degree shots. The fade started toward him, jerkily stepping, her ankles and knees bending and unbending at all the wrong moments. One of her rolling, constantly moving eyes seemed to settle on Tony, and then, like a switch being thrown, she focused on him, falling utterly still as she crouched, staring. ¡°Warm?¡±

    ¡°Hey, uh, Deirdre, let¡¯s get you out of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Warm!¡± she wailed, and then she charged. Tony¡¯s eyes flew wide when she closed the gap between them in less than two seconds, flickering through the space like she was blinking in and out of reality. He backpedaled so frantically that his sneaker slipped on a smashed, discarded pouch of moldy nut spread, and he almost fell on his butt. Deirdre¡¯s ragged, grime-stained hand windmilled toward him, and he felt it go through his knee. It felt like someone injected ice into his femoral artery.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Tony shouted, no longer trying to play it cool for Addie¡¯s camera. He pushed with his legs, twisted at the waist, and then, like hell was opening up behind him, he sprinted for the alley opening. He could feel her behind him, hear her weird clacking teeth and strange hissing breaths.

    Tony had been chased before. He¡¯d been chased by guys who wanted him dead, so he wasn¡¯t a stranger to the adrenaline madness of it, but this was another level. The fade was just not right. Just the sight of her had given him chills, and hearing her behind him while he strained to break every world-record sprint in the history books was enough to send chills up and down his spine while adrenaline slammed into his muscles almost like a back-alley wire-job.

    He slid around the corner, saw some kids on the street corner ahead, and screamed, ¡°Fade! Look out!¡± They looked at him, saw him hauling ass with the weird, flickering, clacking, moaning woman behind him, and made tracks away from the corner. Tony cut across the street, slid over the hood of an AutoCab, and gained a few seconds'' lead on the fade as it slammed into the yellow, domed vehicle. When Tony reached the sidewalk, he slid to a halt against the building and whirled to see what was happening.

    The Fade was halfway through the cab, flickering and jerking, moving inch by inch as it seemingly popped in and out of existence. There were other people around, but only a few. Still, Tony didn¡¯t want the fade to get distracted and follow another person, so he stood and waited, his eyes locked with the crazed, staring gaze of the creature formerly known as Deirdre.

    The cab wasn¡¯t faring well; whatever weird thing the dust corruption did to her, whatever it was that made her flicker out of this reality and back, was apparently anathema to the circuitry of the AI driving the vehicle. It was stopped, lights blinking, and, as Tony watched, it began to broadcast strange, broken messages like, ¡°Redmond and Everly, forty-three Sol-bits. A beverage would quench your thirst! Try a Spark Drizzle today! Please fasten your safety belts!¡±

    Then the fade was through the cab, and Tony was sprinting away, following the route he and Addie had planned out before going to see Beef. They¡¯d purposefully chosen a path that primarily stuck to alleys and vacant lots, not wanting the fade to get distracted by other people. He wasn¡¯t sure what rules governed the fade¡¯s speed, but it felt like it caught up to him easily, and he could feel those weird cold infusions as it stretched out its hands to grasp at his back. Each time it happened, he wondered if he was going to die, but he didn¡¯t.

    Addie said she¡¯d researched fades as much as she could on the city net, but there wasn¡¯t much info out there. She said the harm they did was by phasing into existence inside another person. Tony was pretty sure the fade was just touching him while it was phased out. If it phased in while it touched him¡­ He didn¡¯t want to think about it.

    He bought himself time by leaping over obstacles. In his third alley, he hopped a dumpster, vaulting it with a pull of his mechanical arm, then sliding over the closed plastic flaps. The fade slammed into the garbage-filled container, and Tony ran to the end of the alley, pausing there to watch it work its way through. When it emerged, it waited for a moment as though Tony had been forgotten, but he whistled and locked eyes with it again, and then the chase was on.

    He liked how that had worked, so he used that strategy two more times on the way to the skeleton buildings, giving himself lots of time to catch his breath as the fade struggled with the obstacles. All the while, Addie¡¯s drone swooped around the two of them, and he figured she was loving the footage.

    The last alley ran all the way to the chain-link fence that blocked off the four unfinished high-rise apartment buildings. He delayed the fade by vaulting a stack of old, greasy pallets, and as it struggled to phase through, Tony leaped onto the fence. He cleared it in seconds, scrambling up and hanging on the far side to drop down, facing the fade as it worked its way through the pallets. ¡°Come on, beautiful. Come and get me.¡±

    ¡°Warm!¡± it wailed, and then it was through the pallets and flickering toward him. Tony turned and ran for the soaring building skeleton behind him. Addie said the rads in the place were unhealthy, but only if you hung around for a while. He didn¡¯t intend to, but he wasn¡¯t worried, anyway. His cheap-ass dust reactor couldn¡¯t do much to clean rads out of his blood, but his nanites could. Even only working sporadically, they could handle a minor exposure; it wasn¡¯t like they had much else to do at the moment.

    He dodged around piles of rusty fencing, half-fallen scaffolding, and abandoned construction materials¡ªweather-ruined drywall, pallets of industrial laminate, and a hundred other things that might be valuable to the right kind of desperate individual. It spoke volumes that it was all still there; people were afraid of the rads and the other bogeyman stories. Addie said fragments from the Blast had landed there¡ªpieces of the Aurora Gate. She said weird animal sounds came from the skeleton buildings at night. Tony figured it was just kids messing around, but who could know for sure?

    When the first set of concrete steps came into view, Tony looked over his shoulder to ensure the fade was still coming, then bounded up. He ran through sheets of hanging plastic, leaped over waste barrels, slid under a collapsed scaffolding, and then jumped off the edge of the building, aiming for a twenty-foot pile of sand. It wasn¡¯t as soft as he¡¯d hoped¡ªdecades of rain and wind had added some dirt to the mix, and tiny plants were taking root, but he broke through the crust and cushioned his fall on the mushy pile well enough.

    He slid down the far side, pausing at the bottom to stare at the skeleton he¡¯d abandoned. He didn¡¯t see any sign of the fade, which was what he¡¯d hoped; it meant it was wandering through the derelict building looking for him. Tony leaned forward, hands on his knees, catching his wind, and that¡¯s when he saw Addie¡¯s drone drifting down toward him, coming in for a close-up. He lowered his shades and winked his eye. ¡°How was that for a chase scene?¡±

 11. Welcome to the Neighborhood

    10 ¨C Welcome to the Neighborhood

    By the time Tony got back to the messenger shop, the fade¡¯s sister was gone, and Addie was already stuffing her drone into her backpack. Rene stood there, too, leaning against the screened-off counter, and as the door clicked shut behind Tony, she smiled at him cheerily. ¡°You did it! Addie says you got the fade stuck on the second floor of one of the skeletons!¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Yeah¡ªwell, at least that¡¯s the last place I saw it.¡±

    Addie zipped up her bag and stood, grunting softly as she hoisted it over her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s still there. I watched it for a little while before flying my drone back.¡± She looked at Rene and flashed a bright smile. ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad you hired Tony? Wasn¡¯t it a clever idea of my dad¡¯s? I bet he¡¯d love it if you stopped by to tell him how it went.¡±

    Rene folded her arms and shook her head, reaching up to fidget with one of her gray-streaked curls. ¡°Bert¡¯s busy, and I¡¯ve got four bikes to repair.¡± She looked at Tony, snapping her fingers. ¡°Which reminds me¡ªI owe you some money.¡±

    Tony suddenly felt guilty for taking five hundred bits for ten minutes of work. ¡°I mean, if it¡¯s a problem¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Addie walked over to look him in the face. ¡°Don¡¯t sell yourself short! That thing got ahold of you five times. If I¡¯d known how fast they were, there¡¯s no way I would have suggested this! I mean, you could have died!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Tony shrugged, ¡°I didn¡¯t die. I mean, yeah, I¡¯d do it differently next time, but I learned a lot about how they move. I¡¯m pretty sure I could pull that off without getting touched. I just need to run through more obstacles.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that weird?¡± Addie nodded emphatically. She turned to Rene and explained, ¡°Whenever Tony jumped over something, the fade would go right through it, only it took a few seconds, like it was kind of stuck. It even ran through an AutoCab!¡±

    ¡°Really? They can do that even before they, um, transition?¡± The older woman sighed heavily and tsked. ¡°When I was a teenager, maybe five years younger than you are now, Boxer Corp used to round fades up. They had some kind of special van for it¡ªI never learned how it worked, but they could keep ¡¯em in there even if they were as far gone as that girl out there. They stopped doing that about twenty years ago, now.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Addie glanced at Tony. ¡°Isn¡¯t that strange?¡± She looked back at Rene. ¡°Why¡¯d they stop? What did they do with them?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± Rene held out her hand to Tony. ¡°Bert said you¡¯d have a bit-locker or something?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Tony handed it over, and a few seconds later, Renee gave it back.

    ¡°Looks like you ripped your tracksuit, so I added a little tip.¡±

    Tony looked down, saw the hole over his left knee, and sighed. ¡°Yeah, I guess I did.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Tony, I¡¯ll introduce you to Floyd at Salvage Styles. It¡¯s a second-hand shop.¡± Addie waved. ¡°See you later, Rene. Please go see my dad¡ªhe¡¯s lonely!¡± She giggled under her breath and didn¡¯t wait for an answer, bustling through the door.

    Tony waved to Renee. ¡°Bye.¡± Then he followed Addie out of the shop. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked behind her, his mind retracing the chase through the neighborhood. He really had risked his life, and for what? Five hundred bits? The thought made him cringe a little; it reminded him too much of how he used to act back when he and Eric first started. Back when he¡¯d been a solo, taking stupid-risky jobs for some rep and way too few bits.

    ¡°I got some great footage, Tony,¡± Addie said, slowing so he moved up beside her. ¡°And I¡¯m really sorry about how dangerous that was. I knew they were fast, but I thought, you know, normal fast.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I¡¯m a big boy. I should¡¯ve thought about the risks.¡±

    ¡°You do that a lot¡ªminimize. I talked you into this job. You should be annoyed with me!¡±

    Tony looked at her with a narrowed eye. What kind of game was she playing? She wanted him to be mad? ¡°You got some kind of guilt complex?¡±

    That took her aback. Her big blue eyes, open and cheerful one second, darkened and seemed to recede under her dark brows. She pressed her lips together and huffed. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ I just¡­¡± She worked her right hand into a loose fist and then unclasped it as they walked, staring at him. When she almost ran into a light pole, Tony grabbed her shoulder and stopped her.

    ¡°What is it? We both underestimated the fade. I¡¯m not mad at you, and you shouldn¡¯t be mad at me. It¡¯s all good¡ªnobody got hurt.¡±

    ¡°But you could have. The first time I saw it grab you on the knee, I thought my heart would stop! I¡¯ve never been responsible for someone dying, Tony.¡±

    ¡°Eh, from what I understand, that wouldn¡¯t have killed me. I probably would¡¯ve just lost my leg, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but the fade was there, dummy. How would you get away?¡±

    Tony folded his arms, tapping his cybernetic fingers on his biceps. ¡°Good point, but it doesn¡¯t matter. Nobody¡¯s responsible for me. Besides, I¡¯d be dead already if not for you and Bert, so we¡¯ll call it even.¡± He jerked his chin in the direction they¡¯d been going. ¡°Come on.¡±

    They started walking again, and Addie skipped ahead a little so she could turn toward him. ¡°You really think so? You would¡¯ve died?¡±

    ¡°If Bert hadn¡¯t taken me in?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Probably. I was in a bad spot with those drugs and the condition of my arm.¡± He tapped his chest. ¡°No reactor. Honestly, I almost let Beef do me.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Addie¡¯s voice rose an octave.

    ¡°Yeah, he gave me a choice: die or work for him, basically. Laying there, feeling the way I did, thinking about the ¡®friends¡¯ who jammed me up¡ªI was just about ready to throw ¡¯em down.¡±

    ¡°Your cards?¡±

    Tony grinned and clicked his tongue, cocking his head sideways. ¡°Hey¡ªyou play?¡±

    ¡°Cards? Just a little, for fun. I tried gambling on the sim-net, but I lost a hundred bits in like twenty minutes and decided it wasn¡¯t for me.¡±

    ¡°Well, we need to play sometime. For fun, I mean.¡± Tony heard a sound that was so familiar that he stopped in his tracks and turned toward it. Across the street was a big, warehouse-style gym, open to the street via three bay doors. Each bay was mostly blocked off by fighting rings. Men were boxing in the center and right-hand ring, but two women were going at it MMA-style in the left-hand ring. The sound came to him again, and he looked past the center ring to see a big bruiser absolutely brutalizing a heavy bag. ¡°Shit, there¡¯s a gym here.¡±

    ¡°Golden¡¯s? Yeah, it¡¯s been here forever.¡±

    ¡°Can we stop by?¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯m just going to be editing today¡ªno hurry.¡± Addie waited for a beat-up, gang-tagged old bus to hum past, then darted across the street. Tony was right on her heels. When he stepped onto the opposite sidewalk, he studied the men sparring in the center ring. One of them had two cybernetic arms¡ªnothing special, but higher-end than the bulky plasteel job Tony was sporting. The other guy had a single cybernetic leg from the knee down. They both moved like pros, smooth and patient, testing each other¡¯s defenses.

    ¡°That¡¯s Lionel Golden,¡± Addie said, pointing to a wiry, dark-skinned man with a shaved head standing near the women¡¯s ring. He was watching intently, calling out advice to both fighters as one of them worked from a guard position to get an arm bar while the other tried to pummel her face.

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Tony nodded, then walked around the side of the building to a standard doorway not dominated by sparring rings. ¡°I¡¯m gonna see what their rates are.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I get it,¡± Addie said, following behind him. ¡°Yeah, I figured you were a gym kind of guy.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°What gave it away?¡± Tony waggled his eyebrows at her over the top of his shades.

    Addie shrugged and deadpanned, ¡°Vanity muscles.¡±

    ¡°Vanity? You saw me vaulting those dumpsters and whatnot, right? That takes work!¡±

    ¡°Ooh! Touchy subject, I see.¡±

    Tony just grinned, shaking his head. He could take some ribbing. He pulled the door open and stepped into the gym¡¯s crowded foyer. Supplement display cases dominated the walls, and a young woman in leggings and a tank top sat behind a small terminal at a glass and plasteel counter. Pamphlets advertising workouts, personal trainers, and more supplements crowded her counter, but Tony saw a small chip reader connected to her terminal. ¡°Nice, looks like members can scan in without a PAI, huh?¡±

    The girl looked up, and Tony took a second to appreciate her makeup¡ªglossy red lips, sparkly blue eye shadow, and an animated tattoo of starbursts that streamed out from the corners of her eyes toward her temples. ¡°Something happen to your PAI, hon?¡±

    Tony nodded, leaning an elbow on the counter. He could feel Addie behind and to his right, but she didn¡¯t say anything. Was it possible she didn¡¯t know this girl? Tony was beginning to think she knew everyone. ¡°Yeah, you guys have a card or something?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got these old-school fobs with a chip.¡± She pulled open a drawer and fished out one of the little plastic devices about the size of his bit-locker. It was shaped like a dumbbell and had ¡°GOLDEN¡¯S¡± printed on one side in black letters. ¡°You interested in a membership?¡±

    ¡°You got showers? Lockers?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course.¡± She dipped her finger into a pouch of white powder and stuck it in her mouth, smiling as she sucked it off. When she pulled her finger out, she winked. ¡°Pre-workout.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Tony chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I just want a basic membership¡ªno lessons or anything.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t sell all that stuff anyway, hon. Golden will talk to you when he sees you working out. That¡¯s how he does business. It¡¯s thirty a month and another ten if you want your own locker. If you¡¯re not linking a bit-vault, there¡¯s another three-bit cash charge.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna charge me more for paying upfront?¡± Tony sighed, shaking his head, hardly believing he was quibbling over three bits. Times had certainly changed.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She shrugged, sticking her finger back into her pouch of white powder. ¡°I guess Golden wants to encourage recurring payment methods.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. What are the hours?¡±

    ¡°Four in the morning until midnight.¡±

    ¡°Nice.¡± Tony fished his bit-locker out of his pocket and slid it over the counter to the girl. ¡°I¡¯m Tony Santoro.¡±

    ¡°Okay, my PAI will fill in the forms, but I have to ask you some questions since you can¡¯t just interface.¡±

    Tony glanced at Addie and saw she was perusing a brochure about kickboxing. He nudged her. ¡°Just let me sign up, and then we can go, okay?¡±

    She nodded, still staring at the brochure. ¡°No problem.¡±

    ¡°So, Tony,¡± the girl behind the counter said, ¡°first of all, I¡¯m Amy, and I work at the front desk, but I¡¯m also a pilates and yoga instructor. I¡¯ve got your first and last name; well, I should say my PAI does. Can you tell me your address?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s, um¡­¡± Tony looked at Addie, and she looked up, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

    ¡°It¡¯s my dad¡¯s shop, Amy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, hey, Addie. Didn¡¯t see you there.¡± Her tone made it very clear that she had. She stuck her finger into the powder¡ªTony thought he could smell strawberries and sugar¡ªand stuck it between her lips as she narrowed her eyes. Tony was beginning to get the impression that they weren¡¯t friends. After a moment, she pulled her glistening finger out and looked at Tony. ¡°Fifty-four Clarence Avenue?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡± Tony shrugged. He¡¯d seen a street sign with that name but couldn¡¯t be sure it was Bert and Addie¡¯s street.

    ¡°You know that¡¯s right, Amy. Your PAI just looked it up.¡± Addie set the brochure down. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t act like Golden doesn¡¯t have a hundred name-only accounts. Tony¡¯s paying up front; just give him his chip.¡±

    ¡°Cool your engines, priss.¡±

    Addie leaned forward. ¡°You¡¯re calling me ¡®priss¡¯? Look at yourself! How much did that tattoo cost?¡±

    Amy leaned forward, nearly brushing her pouch of powder off the counter. ¡°Less than I get paid for a single class. Maybe if you got a real job, you¡¯d¡ª"

    ¡°Amy!¡± a gruff voice called. Tony looked toward the archway leading into the gym and saw the man Addie had identified as Lionel Golden. ¡°Is there something I can help with?¡±

    ¡°No, Mister Golden.¡± Amy sat back on her stool, shifting her glaring frown away from Addie and forming it into a smile before she turned toward her boss. ¡°Just signing up a new member.¡±

    The man, wiry muscles rippling under his tank top, stepped forward, beaming broadly, exposing a mouth full of white teeth interspersed with chrome implants. He held a hand out. ¡°Hey there, pardner! I¡¯m Lionel Golden, but everyone just calls me Golden.¡±

    Tony stretched out his cybernetic hand, a little self-conscious about it, but Golden snatched it confidently, giving it a good squeeze. ¡°Tony. Nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Tony, huh? I was watching you walk around outside the gym. You move like you¡¯ve done some fighting.¡±

    Tony tilted his head, slightly surprised, but not really¡ªfighters moved differently than ordinary people. Being able to recognize that had been a non-optional skill in his old line of work. ¡°Yeah, I used to fight a little. Amateur, only.¡±

    Golden looked at Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°Auged?¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°Nah, barebones. I was younger then, with all my parts.¡± He chuckled.

    ¡°Well, listen, I run amateur fights here once a week. I just do barebones, aug-50, and aug-75+. If you¡¯re any good, you might be all right in the aug-50 division. We¡¯ve got quite a few fighters that are technically only aug-25, but they compete. I mean, I¡¯d do more divisions, but we just don¡¯t have enough contenders.¡±

    Tony nodded, thinking. He knew what Golden was talking about¡ªin pro and amateur fighting, there were different divisions based on how many limbs and other physical-enhancement cybernetics a fighter had. Barebones meant you were fighting naturally with no augmentation or ¡°augs.¡± Aug-25 meant you had at most one cybernetic limb and no more than tier-six speed or strength augmentations. Aug-50 allowed up to two limbs and tier-four augs, and Aug-75+ meant you could be facing fully borged-out fighters with up to tier-one augmentations.

    ¡°You have guys with tier-one augs in this neighborhood?¡±

    ¡°Hah! Hell no! The divisions are mostly about limbs down here.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll give it some thought, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course. I¡¯ll keep an eye on you; if I think you¡¯d do well, I¡¯ll bug you again, okay? It¡¯s worth your while¡ªwe get some decent prize money. Anyway, welcome to the neighborhood, pardner.¡± He clapped Tony on the shoulder and then turned to Amy. ¡°Sign the man up, Amy! Quit pestering him for details.¡± With that, he ambled back into the gym.

    Amy glared toward Addie again, then looked at Tony with a smile. ¡°Okay, hon. You want your own locker?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be eighty-six bits for your first month and a month¡¯s deposit.¡± She gestured toward the bit-locker Tony had set on the counter. ¡°May I?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, go for it.¡± She slid it toward her little terminal and plugged it in. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s my balance?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s wild!¡± She looked up and winked. ¡°You had 586 sol-bits on here. You¡¯re at an even 500 now.¡± She slid it back to him. ¡°Talk to me or Golden when you come for your first workout, and we¡¯ll assign you a locker.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Tony turned toward Addie, but Amy grabbed his sleeve.

    ¡°One sec! Let me encode your keychain.¡± Tony couldn¡¯t help noticing how she let her fingertips slide down his forearm as he turned back toward her. Was she flirting? He was dirty, with torn pants and a bandage covering one eye, and she was flirting? He had to conclude that she was just trying to irritate Addie.

    ¡°Here you go, hon.¡± She held the keychain out, her holographic fingernail polish making her nails flicker and stretch like red talons.

    Tony slid it into his pocket and nodded. ¡°Yeah, uh, thanks.¡± Then, he turned toward the door, ¡°Let¡¯s go, Addie. Sorry for the delay.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Amy¡¯s never been quick¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you quick, you little skank! Come behind this counter and say¡ª¡± The door swung shut, and Amy¡¯s vitriol was lost to the sounds of the city street.

    ¡°I take it she doesn¡¯t like you?¡±

    ¡°Not since Boxer Secondary.¡± Addie chuckled. ¡°Not a huge loss¡ªthis isn¡¯t exactly my kind of place.¡± She hurried to the street and immediately crossed as traffic slowed for the nearby light.

    Jogging behind her, Tony asked, ¡°What happened in school? Let me guess: a boy.¡±

    Addie looked at him with narrowed eyes. ¡°How original! Two women dislike each other¡ªmust be about a boy!¡±

    ¡°Am I wrong?¡±

    Addie frowned, harumphed, folded her arms, and, in a much quieter voice, replied, ¡°No.¡±

    Tony laughed and nudged her shoulder. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve got plenty of embarrassing stories if you want to have a competition. I bet I¡¯d win.¡±

    Addie turned a corner, moving in the general direction of Bert¡¯s shop, but she slowed and pointed down the sidewalk. ¡°Salvage Styles is just up there.¡± When Tony nodded, she made an exasperated grr sound, jerking her thumb back toward the corner. ¡°Amy and I were competing for a scholarship, and I needed help in Chemistry. My lab and study partner was her boyfriend, and she talked him into icing me out. I still got the scholarship, but we¡¯ve been ¡®enemies¡¯ ever since.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well, that¡¯s nothing to be embarrassed about! I thought you liked the same boy, not that you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, I did!¡± Addie laughed. ¡°It feels better just to admit it! I had a huge crush on Robbie Lloyd, but he only had eyes for Amy.¡±

    ¡°Had?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s gone¡ªhired by Boxer and traded away in an acquisition. I think he¡¯s somewhere in the Gulf City Consortium now.¡±

    They¡¯d come to the second-hand clothing store, and Tony reached to open the door, holding it for Addie. ¡°Life¡¯s funny that way. I don¡¯t have a clue where most of the people I grew up with are.¡±

    Addie stepped past him, and when they were both standing in the relatively quiet store near a big table of folded ¡°surplus¡± jeans, she looked up at him and asked, ¡°Anyway, why¡¯d you sign up at Golden¡¯s so soon? I¡¯d think you¡¯d be more focused on, I dunno, saving for a PAI.¡±

    ¡°You want an honest answer?¡± Tony lowered his shades and looked into her eyes with his single, silver iris.

    ¡°Of course¡­¡± She looked a little nervous at the sudden shift in tone.

    Tony smiled and sniffed his armpit. ¡°I smell like shit, and I need a good long shower.¡±

    Addie laughed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think of that! There¡¯s only a toilet and sink in the shop! Tony, you could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, no, no.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m not intruding on you and Bert any more than I already am. C¡¯mon, this time yesterday, you were pretty sure it was a bad idea for me to even be in the shop. There¡¯s no way you want me in your personal bathroom.¡± She looked like she was going to protest, so Tony added, ¡°Besides, I¡¯m out of shape and not used to fighting without my missing augs. I need to work out and get some practice in. I¡¯ll go in the morning before the store opens, catch a shower, and be back before Bert can even miss me.¡±

    ¡°Morning person?¡±

    ¡°Eh, I¡¯m like a dog. I can sleep whenever.¡± Tony started into the spacious store, letting his eyes drift from racks of shirts to a wall of footwear to the back corner where vintage suits were hung. He twirled his bit-locker between his fingers, grinning at Addie. ¡°Let¡¯s see if I can find some threads that won¡¯t deplete my fortune too much.¡±

 12. Stop Killing Time

    12 ¨C Stop Killing Time

    Addie sat on her favorite stool behind the counter of her father¡¯s shop, watching Tony chat with Mr. Nguyen just outside the door. He¡¯d been sweeping while her father packaged some online sales, but the talkative bodega owner wasn¡¯t letting him get much done. It was kind of funny watching Tony lean on the broom handle and make small talk like a regular old shopkeeper. Addie couldn¡¯t hear them, but Donald Nguyen was laughing more than talking, which was always a good sign.

    Her AUI beeped, and she saw a new response from Bonnie, the sister of the fade Tony had led out to the skeleton buildings:

    Bonnie: No, she never had any transitions that didn¡¯t seem painful, not until she started losing her mind, and then I figured they were still painful, but she didn¡¯t have the ability to say anything about it. Once she saw her first glimpse of the other side, she pretty much stopped making sense after about a week.

    Addie mentally ¡°typed¡± a response, thinking the words much the way she would speak to JJ without vocalizing.

    Addie: Can you remember any exact words or phrases she used after that first time? I mean, when she crossed over.

    As her chat program indicated that Bonnie received the message, she looked down at her tablet and continued editing her vid; she was hoping to upload a segment about the fade that evening. Her mind kept slipping back to her conversation with Bonnie, though, and how different her sister¡¯s plight had seemed from what Addie had been going through. Addie¡¯s ¡°fades¡± had never hurt; in fact, she didn¡¯t feel them at all. She kept looking at the chat screen, waiting for a response, then out the window at Tony, standing there, leaning on the broom, chatting away.

    He was wearing his new jean jacket¡ªold and faded and soft, embroidered with a green dragon on the back. He¡¯d bought a few pairs of pants, some T-shirts, and a few odds and ends. After a little shopping, he¡¯d left with a big sack of clothes in exchange for only eighty-seven bits. ¡°Not a bad idea for me to take you there, was it?¡± she muttered, trying to remember if Tony had even thanked her for the suggestion.

    ¡°Pardon me, Addie?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, JJ.¡±

    She sighed and turned back to her editing, only to look up again when something crashed in the stockroom, and her dad issued one of his non-cuss words¡ªin this case, ¡°Fritters!¡±

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she called.

    ¡°Fine! Dropped a box of magnets on my foot.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s he doing with a box of magnets, JJ?¡±

    ¡°I imagine he intends to sell them. Perhaps they¡¯re on consignment.¡±

    ¡°They better be some special magnets.¡± Addie sighed, stretching out her arm on the counter and resting her head on it. She wasn¡¯t really tired, but she was frustrated. She wasn¡¯t sure why; the footage she¡¯d gotten of Tony and the fade would surely boost her follower and view counts. She¡¯d already gained another hundred followers since morning, which was very exciting, but for some reason, Addie didn¡¯t feel it.

    ¡°I want to help someone. I want to solve one of these problems, JJ, but I never find a solution. I sure find more problems, though.¡±

    ¡°Would it help if we played a game? You¡¯re excellent at puzzles, Addie.¡±

    Addie giggled at JJ¡¯s sad attempt to help her ¡°solve problems.¡± She yawned and sat up straight, then looked back at her tablet. Using her AUI hooks, she rearranged some of the footage, adding some music to the parts of the chase she thought were interesting enough to post. The whole thing was great, but everyone said the algorithm was kinder to vids under a minute long. Her message window flashed, and she glanced at it:

    Bonnie: My memories aren¡¯t that clear. I remember screaming. Lots of screaming. I think she said something about being looked at. Yeah. ¡®They¡¯re looking at me!¡¯ Stuff like that. She was never clear again. Never even acted like she could comprehend my words.

    Addie could tell Bonnie was getting upset by the memories, and she didn¡¯t want to lose her, so she tried to ease off a little.

    Addie: That¡¯s so awful, Bonnie! Let me do some more research and work on my story a little, and maybe I can message you again? Maybe some more details might come to you.

    She¡¯d just turned back to her editing when her window flashed. She looked back, expecting to see a response from Bonnie, but it was from Jamal Hoshock:

    Jamal H: Yo! I got your flick and checked out that vid. Daaamn, doll! You blowin up! Hell yeah I¡¯ll meet again. You gonna bring Shep?

    Addie grinned, bouncing her toes on the stool¡¯s footrest in excitement. ¡°One good vid, just a few hundred followers, and I¡¯m already getting some cred, JJ!¡±

    His tinny voice warbled his triumphant praise, ¡°Outstanding, Addie!¡±

    Still smiling ear to ear, Addie responded:

    Addie: Jamal, that¡¯s so great! I¡¯ll try to bring him, but he¡¯s his own person. How about tomorrow night? It¡¯s Boxer Day, and we can meet at the street fair. By the way, if you thought last night¡¯s vid was fire, you need to look at tonight¡¯s! Tell your friends.¡±

    She¡¯d barely hit send when her window flashed again:

    Bonnie: Sounds good. I¡¯m going to kill this box of wine sitting on my counter. HMU if you want in on it.

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Her surprised reaction was cut short as the window flashed:

    Jamal H: Damn right! Boxer Day! 1 day a year those fools give a freebie. Find me near the food trucks.

    ¡°Sup?¡± Somehow, Tony had come inside and approached the counter without Addie noticing. She jumped so much when he spoke that she almost fell off her stool.

    ¡°Lunatic! Don¡¯t sneak up!¡±

    ¡°Sheesh.¡± He walked past her to lean the broom in its spot next to the Braum Buzz-Cola dispenser.

    ¡°Sorry, but you startled me.¡± She glanced to the front of the store and saw no sign of Mr. Nguyen. ¡°That was a fast escape.¡±

    Tony followed her gaze and cocked his head at her. ¡°Mr. Nguyen?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. He likes to talk¡­¡±

    ¡°Nah, Donny¡¯s great. He mostly laughed at my dumb antics. Besides, I killed almost half an hour out there.¡±

    ¡°That reminds me of a quote¡ªnot sure who said it.¡± When Addie didn¡¯t continue but leaned over her tablet and continued to work, Tony groaned, walked back to the counter, and leaned dramatically on his elbow, staring into Addie¡¯s eyes. She pulled back a little. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t tell me I reminded you of a quote and then not share the rotten quote!¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Addie laughed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d like it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you busting my balls?¡±

    ¡°Am I what?¡± Addie leaned further away from him.

    Tony groaned and tapped his forehead against the countertop. ¡°Are you trying to get a rise out of me?¡±

    Addie glared at him for a moment, wondering if she should be offended by his original vernacular. ¡°The quote was something like, ¡®Stop killing time; it¡¯s already killing you.¡¯ Satisfied?¡±

    Tony tilted his sunglasses down so his single, silver iris locked onto her eyes. Suddenly serious, he nodded, clicking his tongue as the humor left his expression. ¡°Too damn right, Adelaide. Too damn right.¡± With a heavy sigh, he stood and turned toward the store room. ¡°Need some help in there, Bert?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Hey¡­¡± Addie let her words die away when Bert hollered for Tony to come help. As the lanky ex-corpo mystery guy walked to the back of the shop, Addie frowned, wondering what she¡¯d done to upset him. Had she upset him? The truth was she didn¡¯t know him well enough to understand his moods. ¡°Mercurial.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that, Addie?¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s the word to describe his moods.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, I see. Mercurial: someone who is quick, changeable, or unpredictable in nature. Do you think that fits your companion, Anthony?¡±

    As always, JJ¡¯s attempts to be serious brought a smile to Addie¡¯s face, and she leaned back over her tablet. ¡°Play something upbeat, JJ.¡±

    ***

    Tony slept well that night. He was dog-tired by the time Bert closed up the shop, ready to hit the sack after scarfing a couple of meal bars from a case Bert had given him. They were six months past their stale date, but Bert swore they tasted just like when they were new. Tony was inclined to agree. His ¡°cookie-dough¡± flavored bar had tasted just like the real deal, as far as he could recall. Of course, he couldn¡¯t remember when he¡¯d last eaten real cookie dough, but somewhere in his brain was the memory of the flavor, and the bar had stacked up just fine.

    After he brushed his teeth, he put on a pair of clean, lightweight athletic pants in case someone came through the storeroom before he was up and dressed. Then, he climbed under his thin gray blanket and tried to fall asleep. That¡¯s when the frustration set in; if he was so damned tired, why couldn¡¯t he sleep? Instead, his mind kept drifting toward his problems and what he was going to do about them.

    Foremost on that list was the fact that he was living in a storeroom in the Blast. Earning a few hundred bits every couple of days wasn¡¯t going to get him out of that situation anytime soon. He had skills; why wasn¡¯t he using them? ¡°Because I¡¯m not a damn fool,¡± he reminded himself. ¡°One eye? No wirejob? A dodgy right arm? No gear to speak of? What kind of solo work am I gonna pull off?¡± No, he figured, if he was going to work his way out of this hole, he¡¯d have to do it bit by bit.

    He''d keep helping Bert, and if Addie needed a hand with something, he¡¯d do that too. She knew everyone in the damn district, and so did her dad. Those were good connections to have. Hadn¡¯t Bert earned him an easy five hundred already? ¡°Shit,¡± he sighed, reminding himself that Addie did as much as Bert. He would¡¯ve probably tried to kill that poor woman if she hadn¡¯t stepped in. It didn¡¯t matter; his point still stood¡ªBert and Addie were good people to know while he was in the Blast.

    He glanced at the ancient alarm clock Bert had dug out of a box for him. It had obnoxiously bright blue LED digits. ¡°Are you keeping me awake?¡± He looked around the room, chuckling to see everything washed in blue light. He bunched up a pair of boxers and threw them at the clock, covering the brilliant 11:47.

    In the renewed darkness, he flopped onto his back and closed his eyes. He started to drift off, but then, like an avenging angel, he saw those bright green eyes and smelled strawberries in soft black curls. He heard an excited voice whispering, ¡°We can get out. We can start something new¡­¡±

    Tony jerked, flinging his blanket off and flopping over to fall onto the hard, cold industrial tiles of the storeroom. He banged his left knee, but his cybernetic arm caught most of his fall. Cursing, heaving for breath, he looked around, dazed momentarily. His brain caught up to the fact that he wasn¡¯t dreaming, and slowly, things came together, and he remembered Bert and his shop. He remembered Addie and their jaunts around the district. With a groan, Tony pushed himself to his knees and crawled over to the box where his alarm clock was buried. Pulling the boxers off it, he stared at the numbers: 4:28.

    He didn¡¯t feel like he¡¯d gotten ten minutes of sleep, but there it was, in plain, blazing blue numbers¡ªhe¡¯d slept almost five hours. His alarm was set for five, so, with a groan and a few swear words, he pushed himself to his feet and flicked on the light. ¡°Gym time.¡± He dressed in the tracksuit he¡¯d gotten dirty the day before but packed a plastic bag with a clean change of clothes.

    Bert had added Tony¡¯s biometrics to the alley exit, so he slipped out that way, careful not to slam the heavy door. He pressed his left hand to the panel beside the door and selected the LOCK and ARM options, then jogged out of the alley, finding the Blast to be a very different place in the dark hours of the morning.

    Not a single car was on the street, and, in the relative quiet, he could hear the buzz of drones and the distant sounds of traffic coming from other parts of the district and the major highways that crisscrossed and wrapped around the city. It was creepy and chilly, and Tony picked up the pace, turning his jog into an easy lope. His long legs ate up the distance, and he turned left, then right, retracing his and Addie¡¯s footsteps from the day before.

    He caught glimpses of movement in the dark alleys, and every so often, he¡¯d pass by slumped figures on building stoops, usually covered in blankets or layered in coats with their heads down. One thing was sure: he didn¡¯t see any bangers. It seemed like thugs were much the same no matter what district you were in; they didn¡¯t like being up too early, and though they stayed up late, most of them were sleeping like babies by four in the morning.

    That didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t get a shiver down his spine more than once when he heard noises coming from dark alleys that didn¡¯t sound exactly¡­human. ¡°Probably stray dogs,¡± he grunted, picking up the pace. The gym wasn¡¯t far¡ªprobably just a bit more than a mile, and before he knew it, he rounded the corner and came face to face with the bright lights and surprisingly busy warehouse-sized building. With his plastic bag clutched in his hand, he stepped through the doors.

    Amy wasn¡¯t working, but a different young woman was, this one shorter, stockier, and with short, very tight black braids covering her head. When Tony stepped forward and tapped his keychain to the reader, it beeped and flashed green, and the girl looked up at him, her eyes glittering with the tell-tale lights of a busy AUI. ¡°New?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, signed up yesterday.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Gabby.¡± She held out a fist, and Tony gave it a bump with his plasteel knuckles.

    ¡°Tony.¡±

    ¡°You need me to show you around or anything?¡±

    ¡°I, uh, need a locker.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Who signed you up?¡± Tony caught a hint of irritation in her voice.

    ¡°Amy, but, to be fair, I was in kind of a hurry.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. No biggie. Hang on, I¡¯m checking what¡¯s available.¡± She stared into space for a few seconds, her eyes flickering with light. ¡°H42 is open and ready to be set. Just hold your thumb on the bio-screen for ten seconds, okay?¡±

    Tony smiled and nodded. ¡°Got it.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s open right now. No personal training sessions going on, and the first class isn¡¯t until five.¡±

    Tony gave her a thumbs up and then walked into the gym, pleased to see that everyone looked serious and most had their heads down as they worked out. This wasn¡¯t a social club type of gym. There weren¡¯t any glam-lifters filming for their net vids, and he had a feeling such behavior wouldn¡¯t be welcomed by the regulars. He saw some real monsters in the free-weight section. One guy with two cybernetic legs¡ªindustrial, heavy-duty ones with visible pistons nestled among the plasteel plates¡ªwas deadlifting something like a thousand kilos.

    Once upon a time, Tony might have wondered at the point of all that. Why lift when you have mechanical muscles? He¡¯d had a lot of friends in the business, though, people he teamed up with when he couldn¡¯t do a job solo, and he knew that building up the supporting tendons and muscles for a limb was important.

    His arm, for instance, could cause him all kinds of health issues if he didn¡¯t continue to exercise and strengthen his shoulder, back, and chest. If he had a PAI with some decent software, it could manage the arm for him, ensuring he didn¡¯t use too much strength and mess up his fleshy parts, but to get the most out of it, he¡¯d need to build up his peripheral musculature.

    He found his locker, stuffed his clothes into it, and then returned to the gym and found a free bench. He¡¯d gotten plenty warmed up running over from Bert¡¯s, so he decided to jump right into the weights. He figured he¡¯d be hitting the gym almost every day, so he decided to focus on specific muscle groups each day. Out of habit, he started with pushing exercises, working out his chest and shoulders. Nobody bothered him, and the most interaction he had was a head nod from a few other lifters.

    When he finished with the weights, Tony went over to one of the heavy bags. He was about to get to work on it, bare-knuckled, when he saw a sign that read, ¡°Cover Your Chrome!¡± Looking around, he didn¡¯t see any tape or anything, so he walked over to the front desk and asked Gabbie, ¡°Hey, uh, you guys rent gloves or anything? I wanna get a workout in on the heavy bag.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, no rentals, but I can sell you a pair for forty bits.¡±

    Tony groaned, feeling his eye replacement slipping further from his grasp, but he fished his bit-locker out of his pocket. After Gabbie took her payment, she reached under the counter and lifted out a box of gloves, finding a pair that matched his size. ¡°At least they look pretty durable.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Golden is a fighter. He wouldn¡¯t sell crappy fighting gear.¡± She turned and pointed toward the center fighting ring. ¡°You can find tape on that table.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thanks.¡± Tony took his new gloves¡ªyellow with a black border¡ªand spent a little time taping up his human hand. He wasn¡¯t planning to go too hard, but he also knew his knuckles were out of shape, and it wouldn''t hurt to support his wrist.

    Once he¡¯d done that, he put his gloves on and got to work, going to town on one of the bags. He worked through his jabs, then his combinations, then some power shots, body shots, and finally some defensive combinations¡ªpunching and then slipping, rolling, and parrying imaginary counters.

    By the time he was finished, he was drenched with sweat and feeling a wonderful endorphin glow. When he looked up, he found Golden standing on his right side, in his blind spot, watching him intently. While Tony worked to take off his gloves, the older man stepped over. ¡°Let me help with that.¡±

    Tony handed him his left hand and grunted, ¡°Thanks.¡± He shook his head, sending a shower of sweat down to the rubber mats. ¡°I¡¯ll mop that up.¡±

    Golden nodded, slipping bandage scissors under the tape on Tony¡¯s knuckles. ¡°Bucket¡¯s by the towels, thanks.¡± He looked at Tony, peering into his single eye. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need a new bandage on that socket. It¡¯s soaked through.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s due, anyway.¡±

    ¡°You know, I think you could make a nice haul of bits if you participated in the fights here. I know it¡¯s short notice, but there¡¯s a special event tonight during the Boxer Day street fair.¡±

    ¡°Boxer Day?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you know Boxer Corp runs most of this district, right? They ¡®give back to the community¡¯ once a year with a street fair. Free food, free cheap beer, and plenty of propaganda about the company. Well, what goes better on Boxer Day than some boxing?¡±

    ¡°I gotta fight in the aug-50 division?¡± Tony wiped his sweating brow with his free arm, rubbing his tracksuit sleeve back and forth.

    Golden yanked the last of the tape off his wrist and nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. First prize is fifteen hundred bits, though.¡±

    Tony¡¯s eye opened wide. ¡°Sign me up.¡±

 13. Migas

    13 ¨C Migas

    When Tony got back to the shop, Bert was just waking up, turning on the lights and brewing some coffee. Tony had that familiar limpness in his arms that came from a good workout, and he was feeling far better than he had since waking up in the Blast, thanks to the long, hot shower he¡¯d taken in the locker room. Bert greeted him cheerily and, as Tony deposited his sack of dirty clothes in the storeroom, called out, ¡°How was Golden¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Honestly? I like it a hell of a lot more than the gym I was going to in ¡¯Hattan.¡±

    ¡°That so?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. People are serious about their gym time down here. At least the folks I saw this morning.¡±

    ¡°What about Lion? Did you meet him?¡±

    ¡°Golden?¡± Tony connected the dots¡ªGolden¡¯s first name was Lionel. ¡°Yeah, he talked me into signing up for his fights tonight.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? You figure you¡¯re up for that?¡± Bert gave him a sidelong glance, and Tony knew what he was thinking: hadn¡¯t he seen Beef and his boys slapping Tony around just a couple of days ago?

    ¡°I¡¯ve taken a beating before.¡± Tony grinned and gestured to his eye, freshly bandaged thanks to Golden¡¯s generosity. ¡°This thing¡¯s almost healed up thanks to my¡­¡± He glanced around the store to ensure they were alone. ¡°Nanites. If I get punched in it, I don¡¯t think any new harm will come of it.¡±

    ¡°You looked into a replacement at all?¡±

    ¡°I talked to Doc Peters about it, and I¡¯m kinda in a tough spot. The asshole who cut out my eye didn¡¯t do me any favors. Peters said it looked like he scooped it out with a plasma scalpel and wasn¡¯t delicate¡ªsevered some of the muscles and even shaved off some of the orbital bone. So, before I can even think about getting a replacement, I¡¯m gonna need some reconstruction. They¡¯ll have to rebuild the musculature and probably graft in some new bone to support the implant.¡±

    ¡°So not cheap.¡±

    ¡°Right. Well, depending¡ªthere¡¯s a big difference between vanity tech and functional tech. I might go with something a little more utilitarian until I start earning again, you know?¡±

    ¡°Like that arm, eh?¡± Bert chuckled, and Tony grinned, lifting the black titanium and plasteel arm, flexing his biceps.

    ¡°This thing¡¯s starting to grow on me. I was doing some good work on the heavy bag today.¡±

    Bert chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a solid piece, I suppose, but not exactly sophisticated.¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah.¡± Tony resumed his typical pose, tucking his mechanical hand into his jeans pocket. ¡°It¡¯s good for punching and blocking, but don¡¯t ask me to rewire any electronics.¡±

    ¡°Coffee?¡± Bert held up the pot of brown liquid, then poured himself a cup.

    ¡°Absolutely.¡± Tony walked over to the counter and watched as Bert filled his cup and then pushed it over the counter toward him. Bert already knew not to offer him any sugar packs.

    ¡°So¡ª¡± Bert sipped his coffee and swallowed with a satisfied sigh. ¡°¡ªfighting tonight, huh? During the Boxer Day fair?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, guess so. People really come out to celebrate a corp around here, huh?¡± Tony sipped his coffee, enjoying the ritual, if not the rather acidic nature of Bert¡¯s brew.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say they¡¯re celebrating Boxer Corp. It¡¯s more they¡¯re desperate for a little extra time off and some free food and booze.¡± He waved his hand. ¡°Then you got the businesses around here pitching in¡ªlike the fights!¡± He thumped Tony¡¯s shoulder and added, ¡°I usually close up early and head over, but the businesses on Boxer Boulevard are open with sidewalk displays¡ªsales, giveaways, raffles, stuff like that.¡±

    Tony hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the street signs, too accustomed to having a sharp PAI that would do that for him, but he was pretty sure Golden¡¯s gym was on Boxer Boulevard. ¡°Anyway, what can I do for you today, Bert? You want me to watch the store or clean anything? You need me to stock the shelves or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just relax, champ. It¡¯s still early morning! I know you¡¯ve been up and at ¡¯em for a while, but we¡¯re good for now. The store¡¯s all clean, it¡¯s going to be a quiet day, and¡ª¡± Bert stopped short when the storeroom door flew open, and Addie practically skipped out.

    ¡°You won¡¯t believe how many views your fade vid got, Tony!¡±

    Tony looked at her, narrowing his single eye. She wore tapered jeans over her canvas walking shoes and a snug, faded black band T-shirt¡ªsome synth-pop rocker group that had been popular a few years back. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yep! Already caught up to your first vid. Over a hundred thousand last night. I picked up two hundred more followers, too!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great, honey!¡± Bert was beaming, and Tony didn¡¯t want to be a downer, so he kept his quip about ¡°really making a difference now¡± to himself. Instead, he just nodded and smiled.

    ¡°Glad I could help.¡±

    ¡°So, it¡¯s Boxer Day! Are we going to breakfast, Dad?¡±

    ¡°Oh, honey, why don¡¯t you take Tony over to Manuel¡¯s? I¡¯ll sit this one out and watch the store.¡±

    ¡°Uh, Bert¡ª¡± Tony shook his head. ¡°¡ªthat¡¯s what you hired me for.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, you two!¡± Bert sighed, shaking his head. He walked over to his stool, visibly limping. ¡°It¡¯s my gout. I don¡¯t want to walk more than I need to.¡±

    ¡°Gout?¡± Tony snorted. ¡°What is this, the middle ages? Don¡¯t you have any meds for that?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I have a scrip, but Doc Peters doesn¡¯t keep it stocked. He¡¯s the only doc around here that¡¯d trade for it, and I won¡¯t give MaxPharma two-hundred and fifty bits for something that¡¯ll go away if I just watch my diet for a week or so.¡±

    ¡°Seriously, Dad?¡± Addie whined, walking over to the counter to pour herself some coffee. Tony watched her methodically doctor it with sweetener packets, stirring between each dose.

    ¡°Have fun, sweetie. I¡¯m gonna save my limping for the fair. I don¡¯t care how bad it is; I¡¯m not going to miss Rene¡¯s booth¡ªshe¡¯s showing off her art!¡±

    Tony set his cup down. ¡°The, uh, messenger lady?¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°Yeah, she does paintings on the side. Portraits, really.¡±

    ¡°And guess whose mug is going to be on display!¡± Bert held his hands under his chin, sitting up straight and preening.

    ¡°Hah! For real?¡± Tony chuckled. ¡°Nice one, Bert.¡±

    Addie stared at her dad for a few seconds, her cup frozen where she¡¯d lifted it for a sip. ¡°When did she paint you?¡±

    ¡°You see, my dear girl? Life doesn¡¯t cease when you¡¯re not in the room! I visited Renee a few weeks back while you were off gallivanting for one of your stories.¡±

    ¡°Oh, brother! I never said I thought nothing happened when I¡¯m not around!¡± She put her cup down and made a face. ¡°This tastes like you filtered the grounds through motor oil.¡±

    Bert snapped his fingers, opening his eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s where I put that old oil filter!¡±

    Tony snorted, and Addie groaned. She pointed to the door. ¡°C¡¯mon, Tony. Dad¡¯s buying us breakfast!¡±

    ¡°I am?¡±

    ¡°Just ¡¯cause you¡¯re wimping out doesn¡¯t get you off the hook! Want us to bring you anything?¡±

    Bert chuckled and shook his head. ¡°I already ate, sweetie.¡±

    Tony looked from Addie to Bert. ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s all right?¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Burt waved his hand, nodding. ¡°Go on! Have some fun. Keep Addie company.¡±

    Outside, Addie pointed to the right. ¡°Manuel¡¯s is this way.¡±

    Tony moved to walk beside her. ¡°Your dad¡¯s too nice. I feel like I should be doing something.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Addie looked up at him and smiled. ¡°That¡¯s why I decided I like you. You don¡¯t act entitled to anything.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You like me, huh?¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe ¡®like¡¯ is too strong. Let¡¯s just say I don¡¯t actively dislike you, which is how I felt when we first met.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please! Don¡¯t hold back on my account.¡± Tony laughed, and Addie smiled along with him. He¡¯d been a little on the fence about her looks¡ªshe was always a little serious-faced, and she didn¡¯t exactly style herself to look pretty, but he had to admit her blue eyes sure sparkled nicely when she smiled. As he had the thought, a wave of guilt rolled up from somewhere deep, and he remembered Emily.

    ¡°Something I said?¡± Addie asked, pausing at the corner.

    ¡°Nah. I just keep thinking about stuff from¡­¡± He shrugged and pointed to the bandage covering his missing eye. ¡°You know.¡±

    That sky-blue twinkle in her eyes faded to stormy ocean waves, and she nodded. ¡°Yeah, I guess it¡¯s hard to stay upbeat when you keep getting reminded you¡¯re down here among the dross.¡±

    She turned to cross the street, and Tony jogged after her. ¡°Hey! That¡¯s not fair.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s not fair?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a PAI! How am I supposed to look up words like ¡®dross¡¯?¡±

    That got a snort out of her, and she shook her head, looking at him sideways as they started up Turnstyle Road. Briefly, Tony wondered who made up street names, but then Addie distracted him again. ¡°Are you being serious? It means rubbish¡ªgarbage.¡±

    ¡°Well, shit, that makes it even less fair!¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± Addie hopped over a pair of kids¡ªthey couldn¡¯t have been more than five or six¡ªwho were sitting on the sidewalk drawing something with chalk.

    ¡°How? I mean, have I ever complained about you or the neighborhood? I mean, shit, I think you and Bert are a couple of the best people I¡¯ve ever met.¡±

    ¡°Well, what am I supposed to think when you keep getting all mopey every time you remember where you came from?¡± She paused, and Tony realized they were standing outside a busy Mexican restaurant. It was kind of a hole in the wall¡ªa narrow storefront with old-school glass windows. But inside, he could see the place was packed with tables, and out front, people stood in line waiting to get in. Addie stepped to the back of the queue, and Tony followed.

    ¡°Cut me a little slack, will you? I just woke up down here a couple of days ago. You expect me to forget my old life? Forget about the people who screwed me over? The people I miss?¡±

    Addie turned toward him, looking up into his face, and he could see she was regretting her behavior. Her expression softened, and she shook her head. ¡°No, ¡¯course not. I¡¯m sorry, Tony; I¡¯ve always had a problem keeping friends. My tongue¡¯s faster than my brain.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s your lucky day, then, ¡¯cause it¡¯ll take worse than that to chase me off.¡± He jostled her shoulder and added, ¡°I¡¯d say you¡¯re wrong, though. Seems like most of the people in this district think of you as a friend.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just this neighborhood, and that¡¯s mostly because of my dad.¡± Her eyes twinkled again, and she punched him in the shoulder. ¡°But! I¡¯m starting to get some cred, thanks to our vids. That kid I tried talking to at Royal Breeze said he¡¯d meet me at the fair tonight. Do you want to come?¡±

    Tony nodded and tried to wink his right eye, wincing at the sensation. It didn¡¯t exactly hurt, but the muscles around the socket, along with his eyelids, had been pretty severely damaged, and it just felt uncomfortable.

    Addie stifled a giggle. ¡°What was that face?¡±

    ¡°That was me forgetting my right eye is a mess. Um, yeah, I¡¯ll be going ¡¯cause Golden talked me into fighting in his little tournament.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Addie folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s wise? We¡¯re not talking about some low-level street thugs here, but real fighters. I¡¯ve seen some of those matches¡ªyou know, doing research.¡±

    ¡°You really know how to build up a guy¡¯s confidence.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, like, you¡¯ve only got one eye, Tony!¡±

    ¡°I know, I know. Golden said I could tap if I felt like I was getting my ass whipped, so, yeah, I¡¯m gonna give it a try. The money¡¯s good.¡± The line had moved several times while they spoke, and now they were right outside the door. Tony leaned a hand against the frame while they talked.

    ¡°What time do you have to show up?¡±

    ¡°I guess the first fight is at six, and I¡¯m fourth up, but there will be three rings going. So, I dunno, I was going to show up at six to watch, but if you need something¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! No, I don¡¯t. It¡¯s fine; I can meet Jamal on my own.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Tony straightened from his leaning position and folded his arms. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s chill.¡± Maybe because he was mimicking her posture and she felt silly, or maybe because something else was bothering her, Addie hmphed and turned to face the restaurant.

    He stared at the back of her head, noting she¡¯d pulled her hair back into a pink comb-clip, and then they were inside and waiting to be seated. The smell of spices and cooking food made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Addie turned back to him, her expression pleasant again. ¡°It smells good, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Hell yes, it does.¡±

    ¡°They make the best migas here.¡±

    ¡°God, I can smell the tortillas. They make their own?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Manuel refuses to buy KitchenCo foods like most of the other restaurants around. He tries to stay authentic but has to substitute a lot, depending on what his suppliers can get through the checkpoints.¡±

    ¡°Damn. It smells wonderful.¡±

    Addie giggled. ¡°Wonderful, huh? You¡¯re talking like my dad.¡±

    Tony shrugged. A few minutes later, they were ushered to a small table about halfway into the dining room along the wall. When they¡¯d taken their seats and a waitress almost immediately deposited two cups of coffee on their table, Addie said, ¡°I¡¯ll have the migas.¡±

    Tony nodded. He¡¯d had the dish before at other places and liked it fine, but he also wanted to earn some points with Addie, so he said, ¡°Me too.¡±

    When the waitress bustled to the next table, Addie looked at him. ¡°I want to see you fight, so I¡¯ll try to meet Jamal after.¡±

    The words unclenched something in Tony, and he found himself relaxing. Had he wanted her to be there so badly? Was it just because she was his only friend in District Seventeen? The question made him pause, and he wondered if he wasn¡¯t being honest with himself. She and her dad might well be his only friends in the world by now. His face must have reflected the disturbing thought because Addie made that hmph sound again, and she looked at something on her AUI. ¡°Hey¡­¡±

    Her eyes refocused on him. ¡°Hey?¡±

    ¡°Hey, um, thanks for that. I mean, for wanting to come support me.¡±

    ¡°Support? I just want some footage¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, you rat!¡± Tony laughed.

    The breakfast was every bit as good as Addie had promised¡ªa big plate of scrambled eggs which almost tasted real, mixed with house-made corn tortilla strips, topped with some kind of gooey, tasty cheese substitute, and dressed with fresh pico de gallo. Tony didn¡¯t leave a scrap on his plate, not even any salsa, and when they left the restaurant, he felt ready for a nap, even though it was only a little after nine in the morning. As they walked up the sidewalk toward Bert¡¯s store, he yawned hugely, and Addie laughed. ¡°Tired?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, woke up early and didn¡¯t sleep great.¡±

    ¡°Better take a nap, then, ¡¯cause it sounds like you¡¯re going to have a heck of a night. If you win your first fight, how many more are there?¡±

    ¡°Good question,¡± Tony laughed. ¡°Golden just said there was some nice prize money, but I don¡¯t know how many fights I have to win to get it.¡±

    ¡°Brother!¡± Addie laughed, shaking her head. ¡°You need a really sharp PAI, don¡¯t you? One that will remind you to ask basic questions!¡±

    Tony chuckled, a little chagrined, but when he saw the scene on the next corner, he got quiet and pulled Addie toward the building, dragging her to a stop. He pointed at the scene; a merc was slapping kinetic bands around the wrists of a burly, bearded man dressed like a banger with a leather jacket sporting gang colors. Tony didn¡¯t know why he stopped, but some instinct told him he and Addie shouldn¡¯t be too close if things went sideways for the merc.

    Addie saw what had spooked him, and she whispered, ¡°Oof! I should¡¯ve brought my drone! Look at that officer¡¯s shoulder patch¡ªBoxer corpo-sec. But see his helmet? See the skull on the side? He¡¯s Black Talon, which is basically their special forces.¡±

    Tony nodded. He could see from the corporate soldier¡¯s gear that he was ready for serious business. He had ballistic plating on his chest and back, and his arms and legs were sheathed in black HyperMesh. Tony had used something similar and knew it would provide armor while enhancing the wearer¡¯s strength and speed. He practically salivated, seeing the guy¡¯s fully automatic needler SMG, his Ka-Bar-style vibroblade, and the optics built into his sleek black helmet.

    ¡°If I had that gear¡­¡± he whispered to himself, then stopped short, realizing how pointless that line of thinking was. If he had that gear, then what? He couldn¡¯t go after Eric and Jen with just a suit of decent combat armor and a few weapons. He¡¯d need a lot more in his corner than that. Still, if he had that kind of gear, he could start taking some real jobs. He could earn some serious bits, which would help him get to where he needed to be. He sighed, shaking the thought off as the elite corpo-sec soldier threw the bound banger over his shoulder and stalked to the middle of the street. ¡°Where¡ª¡±

    His question was cut short as a huge drone descended, its oversized rotors eerily quiet. Asphalt dust and other debris swirled up; the soldier clipped a dangling line to his harness, and then the drone lifted off, seemingly unbothered by the weight of two large men. Like nothing had happened, traffic started moving again, and the hush that had fallen over the intersection disappeared as people began to talk, shout, and move about. ¡°Weird,¡± he grunted, still trying to wrap his head around the swift, almost casual abduction.

    ¡°Never seen anyone snatched off the street in New Manhattan?¡± Addie asked archly.

    ¡°I mean, maybe not. I¡¯ve seen similar grabs, though, I guess¡ªjust not what I expected down here in the Blast. What would warrant a banger getting picked up like that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I sure wish I¡¯d had my drone. I would have liked a close-up of that Black Talon officer and the person he picked up. I know he looked like a banger, but down here, a lot of people dress like that. I didn¡¯t get a good look at his face.¡±

    Tony gestured for Addie to start walking again. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s good you didn¡¯t have it.¡±

    As though he¡¯d insulted her lineage, Addie whirled on him. ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°I mean, if I were that soldier and a random drone started flying around while I was mid-op, I¡¯d probably shoot it down.¡± Tony jerked his thumb toward the sky. ¡°Or my buddy operating the much bigger, armed drone watching over me might do it.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Again, Addie looked scandalized.

    Tony nodded. ¡°Yep. Bye-bye, Humpty.¡±

    Addie laughed, shaking her head. ¡°I like it when you call him Humpty. I think I¡¯ll start using that name again.¡±

    Tony lowered his shades and looked down at her, locking his eye on hers. ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°I told you. It was a name I gave him when I was a kid. I guess I thought it was childish.¡±

    ¡°Well, nobody¡¯s gonna laugh at your drone''s name¡ªnot in a mean way. Especially when you¡¯re building up so much rep in the district. Pretty soon, people are going to want selfies with you and that goofy drone.¡±

    Addie smiled brightly, nodding along with his words. ¡°You know what, Tony? You¡¯re a much nicer person with a full stomach.¡±

 14. Spark

    14 ¨C Spark

    When Addie and Tony arrived on Boxer Boulevard, the street fair was already well underway. Standing on the corner, she turned to Tony, ready to say some parting words, but his gaze was panning left to right, taking in the busy scene. Boxer corpo-sec were out in full force, keeping the revelry ¡°peaceful,¡± but that didn¡¯t take away from the wildness of the crowd. It was one of the few days of the year when people were encouraged to let loose, and everyone¡¯s struggles with making ends meet weren¡¯t front and center on their minds.

    Boxer gave all their employees ten ¡°credit¡± chips, each of which could purchase a beer or a food item at ¡°food truck alley.¡± Not everyone was a Boxer employee¡ªAddie and Bert were a case in point¡ªbut the food trucks were priced reasonably, subsidized by Boxer as a gift to the community they took advantage of all year round. That being said, it was a carnival mood in the air as people walked around sloshing their cups of beer, munching on pizza slices, burgers, tacos, churros, and a hundred other eclectic foods.

    The assault on Addie¡¯s senses made it hard not to smile and join in on the festive mood¡ªthe smell of fried dough was intoxicating, the music in the air from street corner performers was lively, and the big portable amber floodlights complimented the bright neon from the open businesses nearby. She watched as Tony slowly began to smile, and when he looked down at her, Addie wished he wasn¡¯t wearing those sunglasses; she wanted to see the emotion in his eye. ¡°This is wild!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Do you want to get something to eat before you go to the gym?¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t want a full stomach when I fight. Hopefully, I won¡¯t get beaten up too badly and can walk around afterward.¡± He chuckled as he spoke, but Addie wondered how serious he was. How could he compete with trained fighters when he was missing an eye? He was quick and obviously knew a thing or two, but some of those guys were monsters sponsored by their gangs¡ªgiven augs, training, and a steady diet of stimulants and other metabolic concoctions.

    ¡°Are you going to the gym now, then?¡±

    He nodded, hefting his change of clothes. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll head over and warm up. I want to watch some of the fights before mine.¡±

    ¡°Six-thirty, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep!¡± He smiled crookedly at her. Earlier, she¡¯d seen how his face had fallen when he thought she¡¯d miss his fight, and though it wasn¡¯t really her thing, she liked how it had cheered him up when she said she¡¯d come.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there, Tony. Good luck!¡±

    He nodded toward her backpack. ¡°Gonna have Humpty record me?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Might as well.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great; I¡¯ll be able to see what I do wrong. Sometimes it¡¯s hard to notice your mistakes when you¡¯re in it, you know?¡± He was practically yelling to be heard over the trio of long-bearded musicians on the corner. One was belting a fast-paced country song while the other two accompanied him with an electric guitar and a virtual DJ setup. The DJ was entertaining just to watch, regardless of the music¡ªhands slapping the air around him to generate wild percussive beats.

    ¡°Okay! See you after.¡± Addie waved, and Tony nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sauntering across the street¡ªtraffic was blocked off and detoured around the fair. She turned down the sidewalk and meandered through the various street displays. Over the years, she¡¯d worked a table during the Boxer Day fair a few times, but her dad didn¡¯t like bringing valuable stuff out to the street, and he thought trying to sell a bunch of low-value items to pay the vendor fee wasn¡¯t worth the effort.

    Still, they tried to support the business owners who did, and, for her part, Addie spent a few minutes perusing the tables while she waited for Jamal to contact her; she was hoping she might meet with him before Tony¡¯s fights so she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about missing him. Glancing at her AUI, she saw the softly glowing 5:35 and tried to relax; she still had time.

    Despite her desire to wander and get a snack, she stopped to stand in line at the table in front of Dino¡¯s Chrome Warehouse¡ªthey were sponsoring a raffle, and she was willing to pay five bits for a chance to win something nice. She stood there for several minutes, slowly moving forward, before she realized she knew the woman in front of her. Yolanda Villegas wasn¡¯t exactly a friend, but Addie had gotten to know her a few years back when she¡¯d tried to do a story about burglaries on Howard Avenue. She leaned close and asked, ¡°Hey, Yolanda. How¡¯s the shop doing?¡±

    The woman turned, self-consciously smoothing her long braided ponytail as she tried to figure out who had spoken her name. She smiled when she locked eyes with Addie, flashing big, bright teeth and deep dimples. ¡°Addie! It¡¯s good, girl! We got a contract with Boxer for uniform shirts, so we¡¯re looking to expand into the space next door. How¡¯s the news biz?¡±

    Addie smiled and shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s an uphill battle, but I think I¡¯m starting to get my name out there. Some people are a little more willing to talk to me, you know?¡±

    ¡°Good, girl, good! You gotta keep plugging away at it¡ªwe¡¯ve been making clothes for twenty years now, and for most of those, we felt like we were on the edge. My mom don¡¯t give up, though, you feel?¡±

    ¡°Heck yeah, I feel. Mama Villegas is a legend in the district.¡±

    Yolanda¡¯s eyes lit up at the compliment, and she leaned close to whisper, ¡°Hey, did you see that spark they brought in?¡±

    ¡°Spark?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, bona fide! Not a glint, not a gleam¡ªeste cabr¨®n was doing some real shit, mija. You need to go check him out. ¡¯Course Boxer¡¯s charging an entry fee, but it¡¯s just five bits. He¡¯s at Madeline¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°In the bookshop?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Here, sweetie, I¡¯ll put your name on this raffle. Flick me five bits.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d do that?¡± Addie felt a warm flutter in her stomach¡ªsince when was she the kind of person who got favors for nothing?

    ¡°Of course I will. It¡¯s nothing. Go on now; I¡¯ll send you your raffle number.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Yolanda!¡±

    ¡°Yoli, chica. You and me are friends.¡± She grinned again, showing off those nice teeth.

    ¡°Okay, Yoli. Thank you!¡± With a final smile and a nod, she turned and hurried across the street. Madeline¡¯s Used Books was only half a block away, and she was eager to see what had impressed Yolanda¡ªYoli¡ªso much. Addie had never met anyone claiming to be a spark. As she drew near the bookshop, she stepped up close to a building, sheltering beside the stoop, and shrugged off her backpack; if she was going to meet a real spark, she wanted some footage.

    ¡°JJ, how¡¯s my Dust?¡±

    The usual grainy, flickering window appeared in her vision:

    Dust Purity: Impure -

    Dust Capacity: 27/30Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Nice,¡± she murmured, lifting Humpty out of her pack. ¡°JJ, initiate Dust link.¡±

    ¡°Initiating.¡± Like always, Addie felt her Dust reactor begin to vibrate softly at the center of her chest. She felt the familiar, tingling, pulling sensation as it sent Dust coursing toward her head and out through the matrix, establishing an invisible link with the drone. Best of all, she felt her awareness expand as it made the connection to the little drone¡¯s Dust engine.

    ¡°Okay, Humpty, let¡¯s go see what this is about.¡± She set the drone to shadow her, a program she¡¯d taught it years ago¡ªit would hover a few feet over her shoulder, assuming the ceiling height would allow for that, and follow her wherever she went, recording constantly. If she wanted something more precise, it would be as easy as a thought to flick her concentration over to the drone.

    She hurried into the bookshop, but not before she saw the poster on the door¡ªpurple with silver holopaint¡ªshowing a man dressed in a stylish black suit conjuring flickering blue flames in the palm of his hand. The floating words on the top of the poster said, ¡°Zane the Conjurer, Dust Magician Extraordinaire ¨C 1 credit or 5 bits.¡±

    Addie pulled the door open, not too surprised to find the crowd inside relatively small; the people of the Blast were far more interested in cheap food, beer, music, and fights than a supposed ¡°magician.¡± When she stepped forward to the flex-ribbon barrier, Madeline, herself, stood ready to stamp her wrist upon payment. The shop owner was her father¡¯s generation and a very sweet lady. When she saw Addie, she smiled hugely, exposing her signature diamond-studded incisor. ¡°Adelaide! Where¡¯s Bertie?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s coming¡ªmoving a little slow thanks to a sore foot, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll stop by.¡±

    ¡°Okay, hon. Here, let me see your hand. Entrance fee¡¯s on me.¡±

    Addie held out her left hand, and Madeline took it, gently pressing her ink-stamp against her flesh. It left behind a royal-blue paperback book. Madeline didn¡¯t get many books like that in her shop, mainly dealing in rare internet-era pub and audio files, but she had a few shelves of them. Addie always loved how the shop had a unique smell as a result¡ªbooks mingled with the coffee and fresh-baked treats Madeline sold on the side. ¡°You don¡¯t have to cover my fee, Mad¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! Bert would never charge me an entrance fee, and there¡¯s no way I¡¯d charge you. Now, after this fair business is over, I¡¯d love for you to stop by because I think I have something that¡¯ll interest you.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes! I got a data chip in with very rare footage from civil-rights-era protests. I think you might find the journalists rather fascinating to watch. The chip¡¯s copy-protected, but I¡¯ll let you watch it if you want before I put it up for auction.¡±

    ¡°Really? Madeline, I¡¯d love that. We¡¯re talking like the¡­nineteen eighties, right?¡±

    ¡°Sixties, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Wow! That¡¯s pre-internet! Where¡¯d you get it?¡±

    Madeline winked at her, her chromatic iris shimmering from yellow to blue to purple. ¡°There are a few of us old geezers out there collecting scraps here and there. We won¡¯t let the world forget everything.¡±

    Addie grasped her hand between hers. ¡°Thank you so much! I¡¯ll come soon, okay?¡±

    ¡°Yep! Now go see the magician; he¡¯s something else.¡±

    Addie nodded and continued into the store, past a rack of vintage e-readers, then around a shelf full of ancient board games. Madeline¡¯s Books had a sizeable area set aside for ¡°Reader¡¯s Haven¡± meetings where people came to talk about books they all read or to listen to someone read aloud. Addie had come a few times, but most of the members were quite a lot older than she was, and though she had a good time, she generally found herself too busy with her other pursuits.

    For that particular Boxer Day, the Reader¡¯s Haven was set up as it would be for a book reading¡ªrows of folding chairs facing a ¡°stage¡± area, which was just a bit of cleared carpeting in front of one of Madeline¡¯s authentic bookshelves. The man from the poster, the one in the stylish suit, stood there, facing ten or so members of the populace¡ªmostly moms with their kids. As Addie took a seat, watching him the whole while, he held out his hand, and, just as on the poster, a flickering blue flame came to life, seemingly burning directly from the flesh of his palm.

    The kids exclaimed in excitement, but most of the adults were less than impressed; there were a hundred pieces of tech that could pull off the same result. The crowd¡¯s tepid reaction didn¡¯t daunt the magician. He waggled his blond eyebrows, his bright, hazel eyes twinkling, and then his entire hand vanished. Addie¡¯s stomach did a flip, and she knew her face drained of color. Was he a fade?

    Seconds later, the magician¡¯s hand reappeared, and he laughed, ¡°Almost lost it that time!¡±

    ¡°Again!¡± one little girl cried.

    ¡°Oh? Again?¡± he tipped his magician¡¯s hat, and, this time, his entire body vanished. One second, he¡¯d been standing before the crowd, and the next, he was simply gone.

    ¡°Tricks!¡± one dad said, chuckling. ¡°He¡¯s just a holo.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, this is boring,¡± his little boy said. ¡°Let¡¯s go to the¡ª¡± His words stopped short as the magician reappeared, this time in the seat beside him.

    ¡°Hello,¡± the magician laughed with a wink. Then he poked the little boy in the cheek. ¡°Feel like a holo to you?¡±

    The little boy stared, mouth agape, eyes wide, and the magician laughed, waggled his fingers, and then vanished again. The dad cussed, and though some of the moms scolded him, Addie couldn¡¯t blame him. She was in shock. Was the guy a full-blown fade? Why wasn¡¯t he insane? Suddenly, the magician was back on the carpeted stage, and he bowed with a flourish of his arm. Standing, he announced, ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have to save some Dust for my other shows, so I can only perform one more feat of magic today. I¡¯ll let you all choose, though, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± one little girl enthusiastically cried. Addie giggled¡ªshe could relate.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the options. Think about them carefully before you choose! Option one: the spooky, dangerous Dust phantoms! Option two: the freaky, mind-bending mirror image! Option three: the brain-breaking, world-renowned time glitch! Or, option four: the stomach-turning, barf-inducing, gravity twist! Before you choose, keep in mind that I¡¯m not responsible for your sanity! Go ahead, talk amongst yourselves.¡± With that, he turned to pick up a drink container, tilting it toward his mouth.

    The children were babbling, and some of the adults joined in on the discussion, but Addie just watched the magician. He was certainly handsome, and his suit probably cost more than most of the stock in her dad¡¯s store, but there was something more to him, something that was a little intangible, that drew her attention. He had some¡­gravity, she decided was the right word. He had a certain weight to him. Oddly, he reminded her of Tony, and she couldn¡¯t quite figure out why.

    She was staring intently, and the magician must have felt it because he looked her way after he set his drink down. When their eyes met, he winked, and Addie looked away, feeling heat rising on the back of her neck. Why had she been staring? She was so mortified that she almost got up and left, but then the magician started speaking. His attention clearly wasn¡¯t on her, so she began to relax. ¡°Okay, which one of you little magician¡¯s apprentices will pick my final trick?¡±

    All the kids clamored for the right to choose, and finally, the magician went through an elaborate game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe, settling on the little girl who¡¯d earlier cried out, ¡°Okay!¡±

    ¡°Gravity twist!¡±

    The kids cheered, and Addie smiled. It sounded like an interesting one to her, too. ¡°Oho! Are you sure? I hope you didn¡¯t eat too much for dinner!¡± The magician held his arms outstretched, and, to Addie¡¯s amazement, particles of glowing amber light¡ªlike glowing dust¡ªbegan to stream from his palms and flow out among the crowd, gathering a few centimeters above the floor. Was it Dust? Was he channeling pure Dust into the air? How could he control it out there without a matrix?

    Suddenly, Addie¡¯s stomach flipped, and, to her horror and delight, she and her chair began to lift off the ground. She was tickled at first, but then she felt her stomach lurch again. Judging by the squeals and giggles from the kids and adults alike, she wasn¡¯t the only one. ¡°Ready for the twist?¡± the magician yelled.

    Several kids and adults screamed, ¡°No!¡±

    The magician laughed, and as suddenly as it had started, the weird lack of gravity faded, and everyone¡¯s chairs slowly fell back to the ground. Addie¡¯s stomach settled, but she still felt woozy. ¡°That¡¯s it for now, folks! Thanks for coming. Be sure to buy something on your way out.¡± The magician lifted his drink canister again, but to Addie¡¯s horror, he walked through the chairs toward her. She stood, thinking she might slip away before he spoke to her, but it was impossible; he stared at her the entire time he approached.

    She almost laughed at herself; why was she wanting to flee? She was a journalist, wasn¡¯t she? Was it just because she¡¯d thought he was handsome? Was it because it felt like he¡¯d somehow caught her staring? Wasn¡¯t he putting himself on display? It wasn¡¯t strange that she¡¯d been staring! When he stopped less than a meter from her chair, Addie stood and forced a friendly smile. ¡°That was great.¡±

    ¡°Thanks so much! I don¡¯t normally¡­perform, but the company said it was time I did some community outreach, so¡­¡± He doffed his hat and performed another bow.

    ¡°Well, I was impressed. Those were, um¡ªwere those really Dust tricks? I mean, you don¡¯t have a gravity generator hidden around here or something, do you?¡±

    ¡°Hah! You know better. You saw the Dust, right?¡±

    ¡°The, uh, sparkly streams?¡±

    His eyes seemed to glimmer as he nodded. ¡°Yep. I knew you had to be at least a glint.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    He put his hat back on and cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°Know what?¡± Addie felt like she was the butt of a joke but had no clue what it was.

    ¡°I mean, normal folks can¡¯t see Dust, sister.¡±

 15. Fight Night

    14 ¨C Fight Night

    Tony found a spot on the mats¡ªlaid out for the fighters to use for stretching and warming up¡ªand used one of the gym¡¯s nylon jump ropes to do just that. He was getting a lot of looks. Some people seemed curious about him, but others were straight-up mad-dogging him to the point where he was wondering if there might be some violence before he even set foot in the ring.

    On the way over, he hadn¡¯t been too nervous, but seeing some of these guys, their size, bulk, and hungry expressions, had him wondering if his eagerness for the reward money might have clouded his judgment. Addie hadn¡¯t been wrong when she¡¯d mentioned his eye; it would affect his fighting, but that wasn¡¯t what Tony was worried about. The truth was that he hadn¡¯t had a real fight without his high-end augs in a long, long time.

    He had his nanites, but they wouldn¡¯t be much help in a fight. If he had a personal AI, he could control the flow of dust from his reactor, saving it for an emergency so he could direct his nanites to a priority, but he couldn¡¯t even do that¡ªno PAI meant everything was simply running on auto. ¡°Maintenance mode,¡± he grunted, stopping his jumping as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

    A friendly voice behind him asked, ¡°You all warmed up?¡±

    Tony turned to see Lionel Golden, his bright smile refusing to be outdone by the yellow shirt he wore with big, bold black letters spelling out GOLDEN¡¯S. ¡°Hey, man. I¡¯m warm, but I gotta do my tape.¡±

    ¡°Roger that. You¡¯ve still got some time. Hey, buddy, you gonna just fight with your eye bandaged like that?¡±

    Tony reached up to gently probe the bandage covering his eye socket. At the very least, it would get soaked with sweat. Did it matter? His nanites had fixed what they could; he still had some scabs, but they weren¡¯t covering much. Tony looked at Golden and shrugged. ¡°I guess so.¡±

    ¡°Nah, here, I got some FlexBind in this kit.¡± He reached into a black pouch he had clipped around his waist and took out a roll of stretchy red bandage material. He pulled it loose, stretched it out, and let it snap back onto the roll. ¡°Flexible and only sticks to itself! I¡¯ll do a few wraps around your eye, over your head, and it¡¯ll at least cushion that bandage in your eye and keep blood and grime out.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, man.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Take a knee here.¡±

    Tony did as he said, kneeling on the mat so the shorter man could easily wrap the tape around his head. Tony couldn¡¯t help staring at Golden¡¯s strong, gnarled fingers as he tore the tape. They were like branches on an oak tree. He mentally laughed at himself; he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever seen an oak tree.

    ¡°What about your teeth, kid? You got a mouthguard?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Tony clenched his jaw, feeling pretty stupid. He should¡¯ve thought of that. He should¡¯ve thought about covering his eye. What was he doing? It felt like he was almost on automatic since waking up in the Blast. He was just coasting, letting things happen, things he never would¡¯ve guessed he¡¯d do. Walking a ditzy girl around while she tried to do¡­what? Expose local gangsters? As if anybody didn¡¯t already think gangs and criminal corporations ran everything in the outer districts!

    He had to ask himself why he was willing to be so harsh in his head when, to her face, he acted like she was doing something cool. Was he just a coward? Was he trying to be nice? He knew the truth was even simpler: he liked her. She was cool, and she was definitely not ditzy! Was it really his fault, though, that he¡¯d been distracted and kind of out of it? Hadn¡¯t he had¡ª

    ¡°Tony? You in there, buddy?¡±

    Tony blinked, realizing Golden had been staring at him for a good thirty seconds. ¡°Woah! Got lost in my head there, coach. Sorry about that. As for my teeth, nope, I spaced it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, pal; I hand a few out every fight night. I won¡¯t be the guy who watches some dumb kid get his teeth knocked out for no good reason.¡±

    Tony grinned and would¡¯ve winked, but he accidentally tried with his right eye again, and the weird sensation only unsettled him. ¡°That¡¯s me. Dumb kid¡ª¡±

    Golden pressed a plastic-wrapped mouthguard into Tony¡¯s hand. ¡°Nah, I didn¡¯t mean you, buddy. I can see you¡¯ve had a few shitty days recently.¡±

    Tony laughed, and when Golden looked at him askance, he shook his head. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s just that I really only had one shitty day. The last couple have been pretty damn nice.¡±

    Golden¡¯s smile grew, and stepped closer, holding up a big, gnarled fist. Tony bumped it with his plasteel knuckles, and the older man nodded. ¡°You¡¯ll do all right, man. Keep up that good attitude. Listen,¡± he looked left and right, then leaned closer, lowering his voice, ¡°I saw you move. I think you¡¯ll make it to the final round, but then you¡¯re probably gonna have to fight Malik. They call him ¡®the Grinder,¡¯ and it¡¯s for good reason.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Just¡­just don¡¯t let him get ahold of you, right? Use your speed. He¡¯s a damned tank, but he¡¯ll run out of gas before you do.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Thanks, Golden.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s between¡ª¡±

    ¡°Coach! Ernie¡¯s here to set up!¡± Golden jerked his head toward the kid who¡¯d yelled¡ªa teen with eager eyes and a chrome left arm. He was standing near the big table they¡¯d set up to overlook the center ring.

    ¡°Coming, Alex.¡± He looked at Tony again. ¡°He¡¯s a good kid. Try not to hurt him too much.¡±

    Before the words could properly register, Golden turned to jog over to where a red-headed man was setting up a portable speaker. As he unwrapped his mouthguard, Tony watched the kid. He was a clean-cut, handsome young guy who moved like he¡¯d been fighting or at least training for a while. If Tony saw him at an amateur fight show in New Manhattan, he wouldn¡¯t have thought the kid looked out of place. He certainly wouldn¡¯t have guessed he was from the Blast.

    Still, he could see the young guy was green. He didn¡¯t have the killer, hungry look in his eyes like some of the other monsters wandering around the mats. As that thought crossed his mind, one of the brutes in question walked toward him. He was a big guy with two chromed-out, fully cybernetic arms and had to weigh more than a hundred and thirty kilos. He didn¡¯t wear a shirt, and his chest, shoulders, and arms were covered in tattoos. The one on his left pectoral was animated and showed a beautiful woman¡¯s face with long, flowing hair. Her emerald left eye winked, and her bright red lips curled into a sultry smile as the guy approached.

    Tony tried to turn away, hopping in place to keep his muscles limber, but the guy just moved until his hairless bruiser¡¯s face was right in front of him. ¡°Getting some attention from the legend, huh?¡±

    ¡°Legend?¡± Tony frowned, genuinely confused. Was the guy calling himself a legend?

    ¡°Golden. Giving you some special attention. You his new project?¡±

    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve met him twice.¡± Tony shrugged. ¡°He was just telling me how things work in the tourne¡ª¡±

    ¡°How things work, huh? I can spare you. I get in the ring. I break my opponent. Repeat.¡± The guy¡¯s voice was gravelly and flat, his eyes like cold, black stones above his flattened nose.

    Tony regarded him a little more appraisingly. His arms weren¡¯t any higher quality than the one Tony had gotten from Bert, but they were modded¡ªthick plating welded over sensitive actuators and heavier, denser polymers on the knuckles. He didn¡¯t seem to have any other obvious augs¡ªeven his dark, shark¡¯s eyes looked natural. His musculature, though, was suspect¡ªhe was boosting, for sure, though it didn¡¯t look like he was using quality stuff. No, this guy was more in the ¡°get big fast, no matter what¡± camp. Tony shrugged. ¡°Cool.¡±

    ¡°Cool?¡± A tremor ran through the enormous trapezius muscles that framed the guy¡¯s too-thick neck. Was he struggling to hold himself still? ¡°As you see,¡± the guy held up his long, shiny arms, flexing the polymer muscles so the chromed plating creaked on his biceps, ¡°I¡¯m in the aug-50 division. I hope we¡¯re matched up ¡¯cause I could use a warmup before I fight Devo.¡±

    Tony looked down at the guy¡¯s skin-tight exercise pants and well-worn black wrestling shoes. He could feel a yawn coming over him and let it loose, stretching his jaw until it popped. He held the back of his hand over his mouth as he shook his head, chuckling. ¡°Sorry about that. Uh, anyway, do I know you? You Malik?¡±

    ¡°Good, you¡¯ve heard of me.¡± He punched one of his chromed fists into his palm, the impact ringing out like a gunshot. ¡°They don¡¯t call me the Grinder for nothing, one-eye.¡±

    Tony just nodded. ¡°You with a gang?¡±

    ¡°Damn, fool,¡± he laughed, looking around, and that¡¯s when Tony realized they had an audience. Something like seven or eight of the amateur fighters were standing around, watching the show. ¡°This guy new?¡± He clicked his tongue, sucking on his teeth as he made a show of shaking his head in disbelief and sauntered away.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The crowd mostly dispersed, people moving off to get ready for their fights, but one woman stepped closer. She was short with buzz-cut reddish-pink hair and a pretty face with matching, big pink-irised eyes that stood out on the hard planes of her face. She was dressed for a fight or exercise, at least, in a compression top and tights a lot like Malik¡¯s. The skin she had on display was sun-bronzed and glistening like she¡¯d rubbed herself down with baby oil. Every movement she made revealed muscles rippling under the surface. She held out a taped-up fist. ¡°Hey.¡±

    Tony bumped her knuckles, realizing he needed to get to work on his own tape. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let Malik get in your head. Golden¡¯s pretty good about stopping a fight before anyone gets too hurt.¡±

    Tony laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Wow! I feel a lot better.¡±

    She smiled, revealing nice, straight teeth with a single gap right in the middle of the two top front ones. She shrugged. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not good at pep talks.¡± As Tony kept smiling, taping his left hand, she added, ¡°You do seem new, though. If you really wanted to know, Malik¡¯s a member of the Cold Boys.¡±

    Tony ripped the tape and started working some strips between his knuckles. ¡°Isn¡¯t this Helldog turf?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but they¡¯re not at war right now, and Malik knows better than to wear his colors on the street.¡±

    Tony nodded, then glanced up, locking his single, silver eye onto her pink ones. ¡°I¡¯m Tony, by the way.¡±

    She grinned, and Tony liked how the left side of her smile went up a little farther than the right, making a little dimple on her cheek. ¡°Maisie.¡±

    ¡°So you fighting barebones?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right! Haven¡¯t lost a limb yet.¡± She flexed her arms, and Tony had to arch his eyebrow, impressed by the size of her biceps.

    ¡°That how it goes down around here? People don¡¯t get cybernetics ¡¯til they lose something?¡±

    ¡°Usually, unless you¡¯re sponsored.¡± She nodded to the side of the mat where Malik was busy chatting it up with some other fighters. ¡°I¡¯m quite sure Mal¡¯s replacements were elective.¡± She nodded to Tony¡¯s bulky, industrial-looking black metal arm. ¡°What about you?¡±

    Tony finished his taping and then tossed the roll onto a nearby table. ¡°Truth?¡± Maisie folded her arms over her chest, nodding. ¡°I had a plasma forge mounted to my forearm¡ªinto the bones for stability. The guys who did this¡ª¡± He pointed to his missing eye. ¡°¡ªwanted it back.¡±

    ¡°No shit? I mean, it sucks they did that to you, but a plasma forge? That¡¯s some serious tech.¡± Tony gave her half a smile and shrugged, and she shook her head. ¡°Can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re bullshitting or not. Guess it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± She held up her fist again. ¡°Good luck.¡±

    Tony bumped her knuckles and nodded. ¡°Good luck.¡± As she walked away, Tony bent to pick up his jump rope again; he needed to stay warm. He¡¯d just started jumping, though, when some feedback from the central speaker made everyone groan and cover their ears, and then Golden began speaking, his voice reverberating through the gym, loud and clear.

    ¡°It¡¯s Boxer Day, and that means it¡¯s tournament time at Golden¡¯s! Let¡¯s make some noise!¡± Tony stopped jumping and joined in, clapping as the crowd went wild. ¡°Okay, okay, listen up, and I¡¯ll tell you how this is going to work. We¡¯ve got almost fifty fighters registered, so that means we¡¯ll be running fights in every ring. Most of you are fighting in the aug-50 division, but we¡¯ve got a few great matchups in the barebones and the aug-75, too. You need to listen. If you miss your call, you will forfeit!¡±

    Tony moved over to the side of the gym to hang up his rope and overheard one guy talking to another fighter, ¡°I saw the brackets¡ªfive rounds for aug-50 and only three for the other two. And the purses are the same. Bullshit if you ask me.¡± Tony had to agree that it sounded like BS, but he figured Golden had his reasons.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Golden¡¯s voice continued reverberating through the crowded space, ¡°the rules! These are clean fights. We¡¯re not trying to kill anyone! You must wear gloves and a mouthguard, and if someone taps, you must stop, or I will disqualify and ban your ass! Get it right! All fighting styles are permitted. Yes, you can kick. Yes, you can grapple, and yes, you can take it to the ground. If I or a ref says ¡®stop,¡¯ you will stop, or you will get your ass banned! Clear?¡±

    Again, the gym erupted with cheers and shouts of ¡°yes,¡± ¡°hell yeah,¡± and a dozen other affirmations. ¡°Okay! Listen for your name; we¡¯re starting round one! Green ring: Maisie H will fight Ronny E. Blue ring: Tony S will fight Alex P. Red ring: Dominic will fight Gordo! Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Tony¡¯s heart lurched, surprised to hear his name so soon. He glanced at the clock on the wall: 6:09. Hadn¡¯t Golden told him his first match would be closer to six thirty? Even as his mind raced, his body reacted to the news. He stripped off his tracksuit jacket, began stuffing his hands into his gloves, and jogged toward the center ring, the one with the blue ropes. He saw the young, clean-looking kid climb in ahead of him.

    Fighters were entering the other rings, and as Tony pulled himself up onto the side of his ring, stretching the ropes to slip between them, his gaze drifted toward the red ring, where two monsters were already squaring off. He didn¡¯t have to guess who ¡°Gordo¡± was. The guy had to be two meters tall, and he didn¡¯t have a spare tire; he had a whole set of spares. His gut hung down over his bulky, piston-driven cybernetic legs, quivering with the force of his two mechanical fists as he gyrated, pumping them up and down.

    Tony jerked his attention back to his own situation as a volunteer ref¡ªa local wearing a too-tight, white and black striped pullover shirt¡ªmoved to the center of the ring. Tony spared a couple of seconds to scan the crowd, wondering if Addie had made it in time, though he wasn¡¯t hopeful; she wasn¡¯t expecting him to fight so soon. He wasn¡¯t sure why he wanted her there so badly. Was he trying to show off? Was he nervous and wanted his only friend to be nearby in case he got knocked out cold? Did he need an accomplice in his stupidity?

    ¡°Hold out your gloves,¡± the ref said, jerking Tony¡¯s attention back to the ring. He thrust his fists forward, and the ref ran his hands over them, ensuring they were tight and squeezing them to check for weights or sharp objects¡ªsort of a moot point, considering Tony¡¯s right hand was like a sledgehammer when he made a fist. ¡°Good.¡± The ref looked him in his eye. ¡°Let me see your mouthguard.¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Tony slapped at his tracksuit bottoms, feeling the mouthguard in the pocket. ¡°Um, could you¡ª¡±

    The ref groaned, narrowing his dark brown eyes, but he reached into Tony¡¯s pocket and extracted the rubberized polymer tooth protector. Tony opened his mouth, and the ref stuffed it in. ¡°Ready?¡±

    Tony nodded, and the ref walked to the other side of the ring where the kid, Alex, waited. Tony watched, biting hard on the mouthguard, letting the weird, molding membrane learn the contours of his teeth as the ref went through the same process. After a few seconds, the ref moved to the center and said, ¡°Come forward and touch gloves.¡±

    Tony did so, locking his eye on the kid¡¯s bright blue ones and holding out his fists. The kid bumped them respectfully, and when Tony nodded, he nodded back. The ref took hold of Tony¡¯s left wrist and the kid¡¯s right. ¡°When I let go of your wrists, the fight will be on. Keep it clean, guys; this is supposed to be a fun time for everyone.¡± While he spoke, Tony took a deep breath through his nose and focused on the feel of the man¡¯s fingers around his wrist. As soon as it slipped away, he moved.

    Alex wasn¡¯t a slouch, but Tony had been in a lot of fights¡ªon mats, in rings, in the streets, and the corridors of rival corps¡ªhe wasn¡¯t jittery, he wasn¡¯t nervous, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. All that said, when the ref released his wrist, Tony stepped forward and to the side, driving his left fist in a quick jab toward the kid¡¯s solar plexus. He didn¡¯t commit to the blow, expecting it to be deflected. Alex hammered his left hand down, knocking Tony¡¯s blow aside, which only set him up for a perfectly placed right hook that Tony aimed at the plates covering the top of his metallic left shoulder.

    Their clash was quick, and when Tony smashed his metal fist into Alex¡¯s shoulder, they separated, the blow pushing Alex to the side. The damage had been done. Tony had clocked the arm the minute he¡¯d seen the kid waving for Golden¡¯s attention earlier.

    It was a low-end athletic model meant for sports like baseball, climbing, and even wrestling, but not for a serious fighter. Sure, a human fist wouldn¡¯t pose much of a threat, but an industrial-style fist like the one on the end of Tony¡¯s plasteel limb? Even through the padding in his glove, he¡¯d bent the shiny chrome cover in and broken several actuator rods. The thing wouldn¡¯t move properly until it was repaired.

    Tony backed off, dancing lightly on his toes while he watched the kid circle, glaring at him, annoyed at how quickly he¡¯d been rebuffed. Tony almost felt sorry for him; he hadn¡¯t even realized how badly his arm was messed up. The kid lifted his fists or tried to, but when he realized his left arm was hanging low, twisted to the side, he looked down at it, and his scowl deepened. ¡°What the fuck, asshole?¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°Just tap, kid. You¡¯re done.¡± He wanted to tell him it wasn¡¯t his fault, that his arm wasn¡¯t meant for taking punishing blows from hard objects, but, in a way, it was. The kid needed to learn to work with what he had. He should¡¯ve known about those actuator rods under the chrome. He should have been working to ensure nobody landed anything but glancing blows. He was damn lucky that Tony was willing to back off and not lay into him.

    Unfortunately, Alex didn¡¯t see it the same way. His upper lip twisted into a snarl, and he darted forward. His body told Tony¡¯s eye, plain as day, ¡°I¡¯m going to try to kick your head off.¡± Tony tucked his chin and darted forward, putting himself inside the overly projected roundhouse. He caught the kid¡¯s leg under his arm, swept the other leg, and sent him to the mat with a resounding thud. This time, he pushed the attack, dropping down, pressing his knee against the other fighter¡¯s good arm, pinning it, and lifting his heavy, metal fist high. ¡°Tap,¡± he growled.

    Alex¡¯s eyes were wide, startled by his sudden change in perspective. He struggled, twisting at the waist and trying to bring his damaged arm around to slam a fist into Tony¡¯s head. He didn¡¯t reach, though. The rods clicked and ground inside the chrome cover, and his glove harmlessly buffeted Tony¡¯s shoulder. It took Alex half a second to realize what was happening, and then, with a grunt of effort, he slapped the mat with his chrome hand.

    The ref grabbed Tony¡¯s shoulder and hauled him back. ¡°He¡¯s out! It¡¯s over.¡±

    Tony stood and held out a hand, and Alex took it, allowing Tony to pull him to his feet. ¡°Damn, dude, that went too fast!¡± he groaned.

    ¡°You¡¯ll do better next time.¡± Tony clapped him on his good shoulder as the ref grabbed his other wrist and lifted it.

    Golden¡¯s voice blared through his speaker, ¡°Tony S with a quick round one win!¡±

    Tony smiled, visualizing the brackets, knowing he was one step closer to the prize money and, hopefully, a new eye. He¡¯d decided that would be his first major purchase. He wanted a data port and a PAI, sure, but he wanted to have his full range of vision more. As he climbed out of the ring, making room for the next fight, he scanned the crowd again. He didn¡¯t see Addie, so he looked up, wondering if her drone was around. He saw other, bulkier drones up there, but her clever little piece of anti-grav dust-tech was absent.

    He picked up his tracksuit jacket and slung it over his shoulder as he scanned the rings. The bruisers were whaling on each other, doing what bruisers do, and he saw Malik standing near the ring, frothing at the mouth he was cheering so wildly. Tony had seen plenty of big-ticket fights between guys geared-up and chromed-out to the max. In a heavyweight fight like that, it all came down to who could take the most punishment. There wasn¡¯t much technique at this level, not with those guys.

    He looked to the other ring and saw Maisie on the mat, grappling with her opponent. Tony walked that way. He probably had fifteen or twenty minutes until the first round of fights was done, so he figured he¡¯d watch some of the more interesting ones. He grinned as he worked his way closer to the green ropes. He wasn¡¯t sure she was worth watching for her technique, but there was certainly something interesting about Maisie.

 16. Attention

    16 ¨C Attention

    As the man¡¯s words registered, Addie felt like she was drifting out of herself. ¡°Normal folks can¡¯t see Dust?¡± Was that right? Had she seen something other people hadn¡¯t noticed when she¡¯d watched those glittering motes of sparkling¡­stuff pour out of his fingers and gather around everyone¡¯s feet? Had she ever seen that before?

    ¡°Are you messing with me?¡± She cocked her head to the side, watching his handsome face, wondering if this was part of his bit or, worse, an attempt to flirt.

    ¡°Nah, why would I mess around about that? I can see that Dust-tech there.¡± He nodded to her drone, hovering noiselessly behind her. ¡°You¡¯ve got some good control; even when I did the old gravity flip, that thing didn¡¯t budge. Can you use all the features?¡±

    Addie wasn¡¯t sure what he meant. ¡°I can use the cams and, you know, send it around to, uh, film stuff.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s got an AI, though, doesn¡¯t it?¡± He¡ªZane, if his poster was telling the truth¡ªstared at her drone, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m almost certain that¡¯s one of the original Horizon surveyor drones. You know they were made for going through the rift, right?¡±

    Addie most certainly did not know that, and she was too flabbergasted to cover her ignorance. ¡°Um, my grandma was a journalist, and she used the drone to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right, right. I mean, after the station came down and the rift closed, all that Horizon tech was repurposed.¡±

    ¡°You mean people, um, we saw the rift? I thought it was just assumed that Persephone opened something like that. I thought it was just the only plausible explanation for Dust! I thought¡ª¡±

    ¡°Woah! Easy! I got way ahead of myself, didn¡¯t I?¡± He held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Zane.¡±

    Addie was struggling to contain herself. She felt like she¡¯d just stepped into an episode of her favorite net serial, only it was all about characters she¡¯d never seen before. Still, she managed to clamp down her endless questions and grasp Zane¡¯s hand. It was warm, and his fingers were firm but gentle when he wrapped them around her hand to give it a shake. For some reason, the touch made her heart quicken and her breathing grow shallow.

    Suddenly, the questions racing through her mind faded to background noise, and she just wanted to stare into Zane¡¯s bright eyes, counting the little flecks of green and yellow in the brown. He held her hand long enough for the touch to be just the far side of appropriate, but Addie wasn¡¯t complaining. When he let go and pulled his hand back, she almost wanted to reach out and grasp it again.

    ¡°So, yeah, when the company took me in, they sent me to a school for folks like me. Like us. That¡¯s where I learned some of this stuff that they don¡¯t really teach in the corpo schools.¡±

    ¡°Like us?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I mean, I¡¯m assuming, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯re just a gleam. You¡¯ve gotta be a spark to run this drone without even thinking about it, especially with the AI disabled.¡±

    Addie frowned. Glints, gleams, and sparks¡ªthe terms were all relatively meaningless to her. She knew a spark was ¡°stronger¡± with their dust talents, but that was about it. Tony wasn¡¯t the first person to ask if she was a gleam. She¡¯d heard her father talking to people her whole life, explaining away her ability with the drone: ¡°She¡¯s been playing with it since she was barely taller than my knee! Must have a knack she inherited from her granny.¡±

    Addie had seen people claiming to be gleams around the district over the years, folks with an uncanny ability to guess which cup hid a marble or who could make little illusions in the air, but she¡¯d never seen anyone do what Zane had done.

    ¡°I say something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Um¡ª¡± Addie licked her lips and smiled. ¡°No, I just, well, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m anything like that.¡± When Zane cocked his head at her, skeptical and perhaps unsure how to keep the conversation going, she hurriedly added, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t I know by now?¡±

    ¡°I dunno. I did, but then my older brother was big into this stuff and encouraged me. Started with my dreams getting into his head at night. Hah! Let me tell you, that wasn¡¯t exactly funny for a thirteen-year-old boy. Well, at least it wasn¡¯t to me! Harris thought it was hilarious.¡± Addie¡¯s eyes widened at the story, and he smiled, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m rambling. Pretty girls always make me babble.¡±

    Addie¡¯s eyes really widened. ¡°Pretty¡ª¡±

    ¡°Zane, you ready for another show?¡± Madeline called out from behind her.

    He smiled and then directed his gaze over Addie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Can you give me ten? I need a break.¡±

    ¡°Sure, hon! I¡¯ll put the sign on the door.¡±

    Zane tilted his head toward the comfy couch on the other side of the Reader¡¯s Haven. ¡°Sit with me a few? I have a feeling you have more questions for me, and I wouldn¡¯t mind getting to know you a little.¡±

    Addie nodded slowly and followed him over, nearly collapsing onto the couch. Her mind was everywhere other than her motor skills. ¡°When you disappeared¡­¡± She paused, again licking her lips with a tongue that felt as dry as sandpaper. ¡°During the show, I mean, is that like what a fade does?¡±

    Zane frowned and leaned into the corner of the couch so he could shift to look at her more directly. He idly fidgeted with his fancy jacket¡¯s lapel and shrugged. ¡°Maybe? I dunno. Some people think fades, reavers, dredges, and the like are folks who might have been sparks¡­or something stronger, but something went wrong in ¡¯em.¡±

    ¡°Something stronger?¡± Addie¡¯s voice cracked, and she smiled with half her mouth, a nervous tick of hers, and looked down.

    Zane leaned closer and whispered, ¡°There¡¯s a guy working for Oldfellow-Ryburn¡ªyou know, Boxer¡¯s parent company?¡± Addie nodded, and he continued, ¡°The instructors at the school where they sent me¡ªthey call him a ¡®flare,¡¯ and, before you ask, no, they wouldn¡¯t define it.¡± He leaned back again and locked his big, hazel eyes on Addie¡¯s, slowly tilting his chin to the side. ¡°You ever thought about applying?¡±

    ¡°To-to Boxer?¡± Addie was so surprised that she stuttered. The idea of working for Boxer was so distasteful that she was sure she made a face. When Zane¡¯s eyebrow shot up, and he opened his mouth to respond, Addie stammered the first words she could think of to hide her response, ¡°I, um, I work with my dad.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? I¡¯m not from the Blast, but it doesn¡¯t seem like a place with tons of opportunity.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Again, Addie found her limited knowledge of the world outside District 17 to be a source of confusion. ¡°Boxer pretty much runs the district. I thought¡ª¡±

    ¡°That they hired all their employees here?¡± Zane chuckled and shook his head. ¡°They recruit from all over the city, and, well, when Oldfellow-Ryburn bought ¡¯em, they sent all sorts of upper management in. Those guys have feelers out there¡ª¡± He waved a hand like he could point to the distant reaches of the corporation. ¡°¡ªin the sister corps, pulling talent from everywhere.¡±

    Again, he shook his head and chuckled at himself. ¡°You got me babbling again. Listen, I can put a word in for you. I know some of the recruiters. Think about it! You¡¯ve got some talent; if they think you¡¯ve got what it takes, they¡¯ll send you for training. I could hardly do anything before they sent me off.¡±

    Addie seized the opening to ask about what had started her mind racing during Zane¡¯s show. ¡°Were you always able to disappear?¡±

    ¡°Oh, heck no! That was the hardest one! I spent six months of hell training that up with two psychologists assigned to monitor me twenty-four-seven¡ªlong story.¡±

    ¡°I ask ¡¯cause when you did it, it reminded me of a fade I knew.¡± Addie was only partly lying, and she was mostly doing it to protect her dad if someone found out what was happening to her, so she excused herself as she continued, ¡°She started out with just her hand disappearing. It happened at night when she was trying to sleep, usually¡ª¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Zane leaned forward, snapping his fingers. ¡°Oh shit! Seriously? That¡¯s how mine started, too! And she became a fade?¡±

    Addie¡¯s mouth felt even dryer, and she swallowed, her eyes darting from Zane¡¯s face toward the rope barrier at the entrance to the bookshop. ¡°Um, I think so. She moved away, but that¡¯s the rumor.¡± She was a terrible liar, and she felt her face growing hot as she shifted toward the edge of the couch. ¡°I¡¯m, uh, sorry, but I promised a friend I¡¯d watch him fight.¡±

    ¡°Fight?¡±

    ¡°The gym nearby has a contest for Boxer Day.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Well, I¡¯m flicking you my contact info. Get it?¡±

    Addie looked to the corner of her AUI, where a ¡°package received¡± icon hovered. ¡°Got it. Thank you for talking to me, um, Zane, right?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Mm-hmm. You never told me your name. I mean, I didn¡¯t want to be pushy, but when we shook hands, I was hoping¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh my gosh! I didn¡¯t? I¡¯m sorry, my mind¡¯s been racing ever since you said I might be a, um¡­¡±

    Zane leaned really close, so much so that Addie could smell his minty breath when he whispered, ¡°Spark.¡± His grin was ridiculous¡ªthe way his upper lip curved like a bow. ¡°So?¡±

    Addie blinked. ¡°So?¡±

    He laughed and ran a hand through his feathery, sandy-blond hair. ¡°Your name? I mean, your PAI¡¯s set to private, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Addie!¡± she blurted. ¡°Sheesh! I¡¯m a space case! My name¡¯s Addie.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡± He smiled warmly, and Addie found herself staring way too hard at those big hazel eyes. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got my contact info. Let me know if you want me to set up an interview.¡±

    ¡°Um, right, thanks.¡± She stood up, made another futile effort to spread some moisture around in her dry mouth, and offered a smile that felt incredibly lame. Heat spread from the back of her neck toward her face, and she retreated toward the door. ¡°Thank you,¡± she offered again, this time over her shoulder. ¡°Sorry, I have to run.¡±

    ¡°Nice meeting you, Addie,¡± he called after her.

    ¡°Well, hon? Quite a guy, isn¡¯t he?¡± Madeline asked as she passed by her counter. Addie jerked her gaze at her just in time to catch her wink. Was she being cute? Was that why she¡¯d encouraged her to go in? Because she knew Zane, the ¡°Conjurer,¡± was fine as hell?

    Addie¡¯s cheeks were already flushed, but she laughed nervously. ¡°Yeah, something else. Talk to you later, Madeline.¡± Then she slipped out the door and basked in the chilly evening air. ¡°Holy¡­¡± She let her exclamation trail away when she felt her drone¡¯s presence above her head. She hadn¡¯t even thought about guiding it through the door when she¡¯d hurriedly slipped out, yet here it was. It had known to speed up and stay close. Zane was right; she didn¡¯t have any business controlling a drone so perfectly without even thinking about it.

    She glanced at her AUI, noting the time: 6:23. She still had a few minutes before Tony¡¯s first fight. ¡°Only a few, though,¡± she muttered, moving to the right, brushing her shoulder against the building to avoid bumping into a group of Helldogs. They were drinking, their hands empty of weapons, and their faces plastered with smiles. It was strange to see them that way. Addie recognized two of them¡ªtwo guys she¡¯d grown up with, just like Beef and his boys¡ªbut they ignored her, even as she tried to make eye contact.

    She remembered the one with the mohawk; he¡¯d been a shy kid, talented with free-hand drawing. In fact, Addie remembered having something of a crush on him and sitting still, little thrills running up and down her spine as he¡¯d drawn an anime character on the inside of her wrist for her. How old had she been? It seemed like yesterday, but she couldn¡¯t have been more than fifteen. As the memory flashed through her mind, the bangers meandered past, laughing and joking about how someone named ¡°Teacup¡± had gotten beaten up by his wife earlier that day.

    ¡°Ah, JJ,¡± Addie snarked, ¡°nothing like some casual domestic violence on Boxer Day.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Addie?¡±

    ¡°Never mind. JJ, research ¡®Horizon surveyor drones,¡¯ and have a report for me when we get home.¡± Addie wanted to figure out if Zane knew what he was talking about. Was there more to her grandma¡¯s camera drone than she thought?

    Before JJ could respond, her text window flashed, and Addie focused on it until it opened, displaying a new message from Jamal Hoshock:

    Jamal H: Yo! You here or what?

    Addie thought a response:

    Addie: I¡¯m here, heading over to Golden¡¯s. Shepherd is fighting.

    The idea had come to her the night before; Jamal wanted to meet, but he also wanted to see ¡°Shepherd.¡± Wouldn¡¯t he be willing to meet at the gym if that¡¯s where the fights were going down?

    Jamal H: No shit? Let¡¯s meet there! I¡¯ll send you a ping.

    Addie: Sounds good!

    She smiled. What an interesting night! She¡¯d learned so much already, and now she might get a break in her story. ¡°And see Tony fight,¡± she added, though she wasn¡¯t really excited about that part. She just hoped Golden was keeping things clean.

    ***

    Tony inched his head back, letting ¡°Big J¡¯s¡± gloved knuckles barely graze his cheek as the man threw another haymaker. As most of his mind concentrated on the fight¡ªducking, jabbing, feinting¡ªanother part thanked whatever talent allowed him to function so well with one eye. He¡¯d made a few calculated dodges that had been off by an inch or two, costing him a bloody lip and a glove burn under his left cheekbone, but overall, he¡¯d timed things just about perfectly so far.

    Big J was a tough guy with a cybernetic left leg and arm; Maisie told Tony he¡¯d been run over by a garbage truck. Every so often, the guy would stutter-step back and whip that big metal and plastic leg around in a roundhouse that would probably send Tony flying out of the ring if it connected. Luckily, he wasn¡¯t all that talented and projected his moves from a mile away. Tony bided his time, wearing him down, landing a jab here, an inside leg kick there. His repeated blows were taking the steam out of the big guy and really putting a strain on his human limbs.

    Tony could see his right leg trembling with the effort as Big J tried another roundhouse with his mechanical leg, aiming to punt Tony with the hard plasteel plate on his shin. Tony saw it coming, knew it was coming from the pattern of the guy¡¯s combos, and stepped forward, deflecting the kick up with his right arm¡¯s dense, polymer elbow. He ducked low and stepped in close, bumping Big J¡¯s extended thigh with his shoulder, throwing him off balance.

    While the big fighter teetered, Tony wrapped up his other leg and drove forward, taking him to the mat with a crash. As Big J fell with a heavy thud, Tony maintained his forward momentum, immediately transitioning to secure top control. Pressing his weight down on Big J¡¯s chest, he trapped the larger man¡¯s right arm, pinning it beneath his knee to immobilize him.

    Big J tried to buck Tony off, but Tony anticipated it, shifting his weight slightly to keep his balance. Seizing the opportunity, he slid his arm under Big J¡¯s left shoulder and snaked it around the back of his neck, locking his hands together in a head-and-arm choke. With his forearm pressed firmly into Big J¡¯s neck, Tony squeezed, leveraging his body weight to increase the pressure.

    Big J¡¯s struggles grew frantic as he felt the choke tighten, his hands clawing at Tony¡¯s arms in a last attempt to pry him off. But Tony held steady, bearing down, centering his gravity directly over Big J¡¯s neck and chest, his legs splayed out behind him like a tripod. Big J¡¯s cybernetic arm was no joke, and he began to hammer on Tony¡¯s shoulder, trying to get a blow in against his skull, but Tony tucked his chin, keeping his skull clear of the punishing blows.

    Within seconds, Big J¡¯s resistance faded, and his hand slapped the mat in a desperate tap. Tony released the hold immediately, rolling back to his feet, leaving the other fighter gasping on the floor. The crowd was noisy, cheering and yelling all the time, but it seemed like they made a little more noise for his victory. Tony grinned, blood dripping down his chin as the ref lifted his arm and Golden announced his second win.

    He slipped through the ropes to the ground and collected his jacket from the stool by the corner. Slinging it over his shoulder, Tony ducked his head as he tried to push his way through the crowd so he could get to the first-aid table; he wanted some ice for his head and face. He bit the cling-tight tab on his right glove, loosening it, and then pulled it off with his teeth. That was when Maisie pushed through the crowd to shove his shoulder, her eyes bright, her grin huge. ¡°You won!¡±

    Tony tried to smile with his glove still in his teeth, but it probably looked more like a grimace. ¡°Hey,¡± he grunted, taking his glove in his cybernetic fingers.

    ¡°That was a smooth-ass takedown, brother!¡± She punched his shoulder again, her smile infectious. ¡°Big J¡¯s no joke; I¡¯ve seen him take out some of the meaner bangers!¡±

    Tony nodded toward the first-aid table. ¡°I wanna get an ice pack.¡±

    ¡°You need some blood-stop, too. That lip¡¯s oozing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good call. How¡¯d your fight go?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m out!¡± She made a pouty face, but it only lasted a second before she was grinning again. ¡°No big deal; I didn¡¯t expect to win the tournament.¡± She glanced at the big projection on the far wall showing the brackets. ¡°Hey! You get a bye next round!¡±

    ¡°Shit, really?¡± Tony blinked the sweat out of his eye and peered over. Sure enough, he was getting through the third round without a fight. ¡°Lucky me.¡±

    ¡°That means you¡¯ve got some time. Wanna get something cold to drink?¡± Before he could answer, she said, ¡°Wait here,¡± then she turned and bolted toward the first-aid table. Tony watched her go, nimble and quick, slipping between the clusters of onlookers and fighters. She was fit, that was for sure. A few seconds later, she was running his way with an ice pack. When she got close, she held up an index finger, and he saw the opaque smear of gel on the tip. ¡°Blood-stop.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Tony smiled crookedly, trying not to stretch his cut lip.

    ¡°Lean down!¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± He leaned toward her, and she gently patted the gel into his cut. It stung at first, but then it went numb, and he smiled more naturally. ¡°Thanks.¡± He took the ice pack and pressed it to the base of his skull behind his right ear, sighing in relief; Big J had gotten a pretty solid hit in there.

    ¡°So? How about something sweet and cold to drink? Mama Lo¡¯s got bubble tea for sale across the street. You can still hear Golden on the speaker from there.¡± She frowned slightly and looked around. ¡°You got someone else you need to check in with?¡±

    Tony scanned the crowd and then looked up, his eye flicking from one drone to another. He didn¡¯t see any sign of Addie. ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    Maisie grabbed his wrist and tugged. ¡°C¡¯mon, then. You need to hydrate.¡±

    Tony shrugged. If he were being honest, he¡¯d admit he was enjoying the attention of a pretty girl. He wasn¡¯t, though, so he rationalized that she was right¡ªhe needed to hydrate.

 17. Trouble

    17 ¨C Trouble

    Addie was halfway to Golden¡¯s when her message window pinged.

    Jamal H: Yo, something came up. Meet me at Lazaro¡¯s if you wanna talk. I have ten minutes.

    ¡°Shit, shit, shit!¡± Addie looked at her clock: 6:29. ¡°What are the odds Tony¡¯s fight is on time?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Addie, but I¡¯ll need more data to try to calculate the odds on something like that.¡±

    ¡°Hush, JJ.¡± She frowned. It was just the first fight, right? Would he even know if she was there among all those people? Looking toward the corner, she could see the spillover crowd from Golden¡¯s on the next street. ¡°He won¡¯t care if I¡¯m a little late, right?¡± She felt a twinge of guilt, but the need to get whatever Jamal had to tell her on a vid, to add a piece of a puzzle to the mystery of the gang activity at Royal Breeze, tugged on her in a way that her vague, nascent sense of loyalty to Tony couldn¡¯t compete with.

    While she hurried toward Lazaro¡¯s shop¡ªa tattoo parlor¡ªshe messaged Jamal to let him know she was on her way. Addie kept her head down and her drone high; she didn¡¯t want any trouble, and despite being in her home neighborhood with lots of Boxer corpo-sec on the streets, she knew better than to bump into the wrong person. Glancing up, she saw her little egg-shaped drone blend into the night sky, invisible with all the bright lights and decorations at street level for Boxer Day.

    ¡°Dust report, JJ.¡± Her AUI flickered, and a hazy window appeared:

    Dust Purity: Impure -

    Dust Capacity: 21/30

    She¡¯d burned more than she¡¯d expected but still had plenty¡ªenough to keep the drone flying for more than an hour, probably. The Dust her low-end reactor could pull from her body in the Blast might be ¡°impure,¡± but it was plentiful; she¡¯d be back to full by morning. Her detour only took her a few minutes out of her way, and before she knew it, she saw Jamal leaning against the wall by the tattoo parlor¡¯s door.

    He wore a dark hoodie with the hood pulled low, but Addie recognized his stocky frame and posture¡ªhe was trying hard to get noticed by bangers these days. Like most teen boys in the Blast, he was ripe for recruitment. When he saw Addie approaching, he tilted his chin and waved her close. ¡°Yo, sorry about the change. I got an¡­opportunity, and I gotta fly. Anyway, I said I¡¯d talk, and I keep my word, check?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I check, Jamal. Nobody¡¯s calling you a liar.¡± She looked up, her eyes tracking her drone as it came a little closer. ¡°On the record, okay?¡±

    ¡°You gotta hide my face and voice.¡±

    ¡°Easy done.¡±

    ¡°Right, then here¡¯s your tip: them bangers shaking fools down in the Royal¡ªI saw ¡¯em all coming out of a shop near there.¡± Addie¡¯s eyes widened, and he shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the small part. They came outta the shop, and five minutes later, a corpo slipped out¡ªfull suit, fancy threads with bullet-weave. I can scope that style anywhere. It was just like Frazaa wears. No shit!¡±

    Addie pictured it, well familiar with the popular vid-serial featuring a street samurai named Frazaa. ¡°Where¡¯d he go?¡±

    ¡°Haha! I knew you¡¯d think I was talking about a dude. It was a chick! Finest lady I¡¯ve ever laid eyes on. Slipped into the alley, and when me and my boys wandered over to, you know, see what was up, she was gone. Maybe ran out the other end, maybe climbed the damn walls. I got no clue.¡±

    ¡°Where was this? What shop?¡±

    ¡°That creepy-ass funeral home on Glen.¡±

    ¡°Pulliam¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it. The one with the metal flowers on the windows.¡±

    Addie nodded. She¡¯d passed by the place a hundred times¡ªwrought-iron security grates with bars shaped like flowers. ¡°That¡¯s really good stuff, Jamal. You got anything¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nah. I gotta fly.¡± He straightened up and took a single step before looking down at her, arching one dark eyebrow. ¡°You look kinda pretty tonight, news girl. Did you put on some makeup?¡±

    To her horror, Addie felt her cheeks flush as she looked up at him, startled. ¡°I¡­¡± Her flustered response died on her tongue as he chuckled, winked, and sauntered away. How old was he? Fifteen? And he got her all tongue-tied by saying she looked pretty? ¡°Grandma would be horrified!¡± she growled.

    She sent her drone back up and turned, hurrying back toward Golden¡¯s. What was the deal with her? A kid flirting a little made her blush? She knew the answer without thinking: it wasn¡¯t Jamal¡ªshe was still hot under the collar from her encounter with Zane, the¡­what? Not ¡°conjurer.¡± She refused to think of him as his Boxer Day persona. He was Zane, the corpo goon. Period. It didn¡¯t matter that he had dreamy eyes, a beautiful mouth, and a way of speaking that sent little shivers over the back of her neck. Addie shook her head, banishing the man from her mind.

    She hoped Tony hadn¡¯t started yet. Maybe there¡¯d been a delay. Why was she so worried? It was just a little sparring match, right? She sighed, shaking her head. That wasn¡¯t fair. She really didn¡¯t know Tony all that well, but she was all he had. He didn¡¯t know anyone¡ªnot around the Blast, and she could empathize with that.

    Addie wasn¡¯t a fighter; she¡¯d fight for something, but that usually involved using her words and a little courage to poke her nose where it didn¡¯t belong. She¡¯d never stepped up, intentionally looking to hurt or be hurt. The idea seemed ridiculous, but she could imagine how Tony must feel¡ªputting himself out there like that, surrounded by strangers, more than half of whom probably belonged to one criminal element or another in the district. ¡°He must be terrified!¡±

    ¡°Jamal, Addie?¡± JJ once again tried to understand where his grip on the logic of her randomly voiced sentences had slipped.

    ¡°No, JJ. Tony.¡± Addie quickened her steps and, irritated by the slow-moving crowds, concentrated a little and sent her drone ahead. It wasn¡¯t exactly easy to split her attention between the drone¡¯s feed and her eyes, but she could do it, especially if she only used the front-facing cam.

    In seconds, Humpty was over the throngs of people and around the corner, and she saw Golden¡¯s gym and the three rings set up in the bay doors. The crowds were boisterous and loud, fists pumping, drinks sloshing, and people jockeying for position to watch the fights. To Addie¡¯s dismay, she recognized Tony in the center ring, and he didn¡¯t look good. Her steps faltered, and she edged through the crowd to a nearby building, leaning her shoulder on the rough bricks to focus on her drone¡¯s feed.

    Tony was bloody. His missing eye was wrapped in some kind of red tape, but it was dark, almost black, where it crossed over his brow and eye socket. His nose was bleeding, the slow drizzle of bright red mingling with cut lips and a bloody mouthguard as he grimaced, heaving breaths as he tried to dodge his opponent¡¯s flurry of blows. He was shirtless, his body glistening with sweat. Addie could see abrasions and purpling bruises, no doubt the result of being pounded by a cybernetically enhanced maniac.

    That was who he was fighting¡ªa maniac. It was London Roy, probably the only guy in District Seventeen with an English accent. Addie knew of him, but she¡¯d never spoken to him. He was big-time with the Ghostwire Crew, and Addie knew better than to get mixed up with them, even with some casual streetside banter. London was pushing two meters, and, with his metal arms, Addie wouldn¡¯t be surprised to hear he weighed a hundred and forty kilograms. He was a monster, and, worse than his size, he was fast and vicious.

    Addie winced as he pounded a sweeping right hook into Tony¡¯s shoulder, knocking him off balance so he could follow up with some kind of high-kneed stomp. Addie¡¯s eyes bulged out as his big foot slammed into Tony¡¯s hip, sending him sprawling back, sliding over the rough mat until he almost fell out of the ring. London¡¯s feet were bare, but somehow, it made him more menacing¡ªhe was so big, so vital. Why hadn¡¯t Tony forfeited when he saw the massive man with his menacing dark eyes, his crazy dreadlocks laced with bones and dice, and his enormous military-grade, mechanical arms? Did he have a death wish?

    While the big man strutted, pumping his arms up, getting the crowd wild, Tony struggled to stand, using the ropes for assistance. Something in her stomach felt sick. Could those thin gloves even do anything to protect his skull if that monster pounded him with one of his colossal metal fists? She supposed the evidence of blood pouring out of contusions on Tony¡¯s brow said yes. He wasn¡¯t dead yet. Addie let her drone¡¯s focus shift to one of the other rings, and she saw Malik and Devo fighting¡ªtwo entirely different sorts of monsters. Did Tony think he could fight guys like that?

    ¡°Oh no!¡± Her voice caught in her throat when she saw Tony stand and reach up to wipe his bloody eye. The referee made some kind of sign, and the crowd made a lot of noise¡ªsome booing, some cheering, and then London moved over to a corner where he leaned, smirking as Golden, himself, stepped into the ring with a rag and a bucket. Was he going to stop the fight? Addie frowned. She hoped so! ¡°No such luck,¡± she sighed as Golden started smearing some ointment in Tony¡¯s cuts. Tony took out his mouthguard and spit big bloody wads of saliva into the bucket.

    Addie turned her attention back to her immediate surroundings and started pushing her way through the crowd again. Why wasn¡¯t he stopping? London didn¡¯t even seem hurt or even tired! ¡°God! I wish he had a PAI so I could send him a message! He needs to back down!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t help, Addie.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, JJ.¡± The poor PAI was his most endearing when he admitted his faults. As a gap in the crowd opened ahead of her, she started running. ¡°Come on, Tony! Just drop it. You don¡¯t have to win every fight!¡± Did he? Somehow, the fact that she didn¡¯t know him well enough to understand his motivations felt wrong. Was she trying not to know him? She didn¡¯t have the answer, but one thing she did know was that she had to get him out of that fight before London did something awful. What would she do if Tony died in there? It could happen!The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ***

    ¡°You don¡¯t like bubble tea?¡± Maisie asked, watching Tony sip his cup of lemonade. They were leaning against a temporary fence set up to guide crowds around the gym, and Tony was trying to listen to Golden¡¯s voice over his loudspeaker as he called the next round of fights. He still wasn¡¯t up.

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine, but I don¡¯t want anything in my stomach. Those, uh, round things¡ªI don¡¯t know how they¡¯ll sit.¡±

    ¡°Pearls!¡± She smiled, taking a big drink through her wide straw. ¡°I get it, though. I puke after a hard workout sometimes.¡± She tilted her head as she took another sip, and Tony watched the little dimple on her cheek.

    ¡°Not many people can make ¡®puke¡¯ sound cute.¡±

    She wore an army-green tank top, and when she leaned against him, her bare shoulder pressed into his elbow; her skin felt warm as a heating pad. ¡°You think I¡¯m cute?¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly a talker are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Maisie!¡± a deep voice called out, and Tony turned to see a brick house of a guy. He was probably in his fifties but dressed like a banger¡ªleather, chains, and denim. His boots made literal thuds as he strode toward them over the concrete. ¡°Did you talk to him about it?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Tony folded his arms over his chest. What was this, then? Was he about to get rolled before he could fight again?

    ¡°Listen, kid,¡± the big, bearded guy said, leaning close so Tony could smell the chem-sticks on his breath and the spice of his cologne. ¡°We got a proposition for you.¡±

    Tony glanced at Maisie, frowning. ¡°That right?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing bad!¡± she stammered.

    The older guy nodded. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s an opportunity.¡±

    Tony had been around enough to get a whiff of the situation. He kept his arms folded and leaned back against the fence. ¡°I don¡¯t take dives. Even in low-stakes setups like this.¡± He jerked his thumb at the gym.

    ¡°Nah, kid, it ain¡¯t like that.¡± The big reached up to rub his salt-and-pepper whiskers. ¡°Maisie says you move like you know what the hell you¡¯re doing. That true?¡±

    Tony glanced at her again, and she looked down guiltily. ¡°I guess that¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°Well, they got you fighting London Roy next. You met him?¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a big monster, and he¡¯s mean as piss. There¡¯s already two-to-one odds against you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Tony didn¡¯t really enjoy this sort of pep talk. He frowned, somehow looking down his nose at the guy even though he was probably a few centimeters shorter.

    ¡°Yeah, but if you can drag it out and make it look like you¡¯re getting your ass whipped, Dabrowski will throw up four-to-one odds to try to make some money back.¡±

    ¡°You want me to, uh, let the guy tenderize me for a while?¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it. It¡¯s a rare opportunity because everyone knows everyone around here. Nobody knows what kinda beating you can take, though, except for you. Make London look good for a while¡ªuntil I give you the signal¡ªthen, you can take him down. No dive required, and we all make some scratch.¡±

    ¡°And!¡± Maisie said, nudging the big man¡¯s leather-clad shoulder.

    ¡°Oh, right. And the Black Jades will owe you one.¡±

    Tony knew better than to admit he¡¯d never heard of the guy¡¯s gang. ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°Right, me too. I¡¯m Troy¡ªMaisie¡¯s uncle.¡±

    ¡°What kinda split we talking?¡± Tony was tempted; stretching out a fight was pretty much the opposite of taking a dive, and it didn¡¯t bother his conscience at all.

    ¡°Seeing as it¡¯s my money on the line, I was thinking I¡¯d split the proceeds with you, eighty-twenty.¡±

    ¡°Not my bits, but my life. This guy dangerous?¡± Tony didn¡¯t miss the look Troy shot Maisie before he answered.

    ¡°All right. Sixty-forty.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll try to stretch it as long as I can. What kind of signal am I looking for?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk Golden into giving you a break to, uh, check that you can still fight once the bet¡¯s made.¡± When Tony¡¯s eyebrows shot up, he shrugged. ¡°Look, you¡¯re gonna get beat up a bit. Can you take it or not?¡±

    Tony thought about it. He thought about how he¡¯d woken up a few days ago missing an arm, an eye, and a couple million bits worth of other hardware. He thought about how his best friend and a woman he¡¯d once loved had betrayed him. He even let his mind drift toward Emily, and his veins turned to ice, and a cold detachment entered his silver eye, a look so different from the expression he¡¯d been wearing since waking up in the Blast that the big, veteran banger took a step back. Tony stared for a minute, then nodded. ¡°Yeah, I can take a beating.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Well?¡± Golden repeated. ¡°You good or not, kid? Shit, I didn¡¯t think¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Tony interrupted, stuffing his mouthguard back in. He pounded his fists together, savoring the sting of the blood-stop on the many lacerations around his face and skull. Golden hadn¡¯t been stingy with the stuff, and the stinging was eye-watering but also helped him focus. His mind had done a lot of drifting while he let the big bruiser pound on him. Was ¡®bruiser¡¯ the right word? He was quick and mean, too, not just a bulldozer like Big J.

    ¡°If you say so, kid. Don¡¯t get killed before I get to know you, yeah?¡±

    Tony locked his bloodshot eye on Golden¡¯s soft brown ones and smiled, stretching the cuts on his lips painfully. He nodded and pounded his gloves again. Golden picked up his blood-spattered bucket and crawled out between the ropes. Tony turned his attention to London Roy. It was time for a bit of payback.

    ¡°Still in it, eh, one-eye?¡±

    Before Tony could retort¡ªnot that he¡¯d intended to¡ªthe ref stepped forward. ¡°Let¡¯s get it going!¡± He looked at Tony. ¡°If we have to stop for your bleeding again, you¡¯re out. Clear?¡± Tony nodded and smacked his gloves together. The ref stepped back and lifted his right hand. ¡°Fight!¡±

    London Roy charged forward, exuberant in his desire to pound Tony¡¯s skull in. He¡¯d grown used to Tony being a touch too slow to slip his blows. He¡¯d gotten accustomed to pushing the lighter man around the ring. He was so sure he was about to lay another flurry of punches into Tony¡¯s face, head, shoulders, and ribs that his mouth made an almost comical ¡°O¡± shape when Tony ducked his left hook, came up on his side, and laid a devastating right jab into his ribs.

    Tony put everything into that jab¡ªhis hips, his shoulder, the full force of his mechanical arm, and the simmering, smoldering emotions he¡¯d been locking behind that door in his mind. London¡¯s ribs weren¡¯t up to the job of stopping that shot. They cracked and popped, not loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd, but definitely palpable through the metal bones in Tony¡¯s fist and arm. It felt like punching plywood the way they crunched and gave under the pressure.

    London was mid-twist, trying to chase after him with an overhand right, a hammer blow that hit nothing but air as Tony darted away on feet that were suddenly much lighter and more coordinated. Tony danced on his toes, moving left to right along the ropes as he watched the big guy¡¯s face slowly contort in pain and fury as the damage from Tony¡¯s shot finally registered in his brain.

    He stalked toward Tony, furious, but stopped after just two steps, wincing. He lifted a glove to his mouth and coughed, then paused and reached down to brace himself on his knees, suddenly shaky as he coughed again, and blood spattered onto the mat. Tony knew it was over. He¡¯d ruined several of the guy¡¯s ribs, and he was confident he¡¯d sent at least one fragment into his lung. Was it mean? Yeah. Did it feel good? Yeah.

    Tony watched as first London, then the ref came to the realization that he¡¯d just made: London couldn¡¯t fight anymore. He helped the big man hobble to the corner where some of his supporters were waiting, throwing dark, menace-filled glances Tony¡¯s way. The ref came over and shook his head, whistling. ¡°That was a hell of a shot, kid. Goddamn!¡± He grabbed Tony¡¯s arm and lifted it high.

    Golden¡¯s voice boomed through the speaker, ¡°Tony S with another win! Looks like he¡¯ll be fighting the Grinder in the championship!¡± To Tony¡¯s surprise, a lot of people cheered. Was he starting to garner some support? He slipped down out of the ring, yanked his right glove off with his teeth, and scooped up his jacket. He was soaking with sweat and blood, so he just threw it over his shoulder. He only took a single step before a small, lithe figure slammed into him, squeezing him around the waist.

    He laughed, recognizing Maisie¡¯s short, red hair. ¡°Easy on the ribs!¡±

    She looked at him, beaming, another shallower dimple on her left cheek joining her more prominent one on the right. Her pink irises glittered as she gushed, ¡°You did it! Troy is over the moon! Damn, but I thought you were going down for a while there!¡±

    As she released her hold and Tony tilted his head up, looking for an easy path through the crowd to the water stand, he froze in his tracks. Addie was there, standing just a few meters away, her funny little drone hovering over her head. She wore a strange expression, like a mixture of surprise and something else¡ªher cheeks were flushed, and her chest was moving up and down as she tried to recover her breath. Had she just run somewhere?

    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Maisie said, pulling his wrist. ¡°You should rehydrate before the final.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Just a sec.¡± Tony smiled at her, then nodded toward Addie. ¡°Lemme talk to my friend here. I¡¯ll meet you, okay?¡±

    Maisie looked from him to where he nodded, and her eyes locked on Addie¡¯s. ¡°Oh, right. No worries.¡± She gave his wrist a lingering squeeze, then walked past Addie, smiling up at her as she sauntered by. ¡°Hey, Addie.¡±

    Addie didn¡¯t respond; she was still staring at Tony. He walked closer, still trying to read the expression in those blue eyes. ¡°Hey.¡± He glanced up to Humpty, where the drone hovered overhead. ¡°Hi, Humpty. Glad you could make it.¡± Addie¡¯s eyes narrowed, and she inhaled. Then, she started to speak and stopped. She did that twice more before Tony asked, ¡°Is everything cool?¡±

    Addie shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut for about half a second, then looked up at him and shrugged. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. I¡¯m glad you had someone in your corner. I was afraid¡­¡± She trailed off and shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±

    ¡°You sure you¡¯re good? Any word from your contact?¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah. It¡¯s not important. We can talk tomorrow. Are you done? I missed the end, there¡ªGod, I was afraid you were going to get your head knocked off!¡±

    Tony grinned. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. I have one more fight.¡±

    Addie¡¯s eyes flew wide as she ran them over his face. ¡°Are you insane?¡±

    Tony tilted his head to the side, looking at her askance. ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°If you could see your face¡­¡± Addie shook her head and held her hands up. ¡°You know what. Never mind. I was worried you were alone here and needed some support, but it seems you¡¯re fine. I can¡¯t watch¡ª¡± To Tony¡¯s shock, it sounded almost like a sob choked off her words, and she turned and started away. He reached out and took her wrist, not intending to overpower her or anything but not wanting her to go off upset.

    She didn¡¯t pull away, and, standing there amid the boisterous crowd cheering for more fighters in the ring from the aug-75 division, he put his mechanical hand on her shoulder and leaned close so he could speak into her ear. ¡°Hey, what is it? I¡¯m fine, really. These cuts are just bleeding a lot ¡®cause that¡¯s what cuts on the head do. I¡¯m not hurt at all.¡±

    Addie looked up at him with watery eyes, blinking rapidly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tony. It¡¯s been an¡­emotional evening. I just kind of want to go home.¡±

    ¡°All right. I¡¯ll walk you.¡± He started to steer her toward the exit, pulling her close to his side to get through the jostling, yelling crowd.

    ¡°No!¡± She pulled back. ¡°You can¡¯t do that. You¡¯ll miss the fight.¡±

    ¡°Thought you didn¡¯t want me to fight?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t really care.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d do that¡ªskip the fight just to walk me?¡± She stepped close, and Tony could feel the softness of her yellow jacket against his bare skin. Her eyes were big as she looked up at him.

    ¡°You kidding me? What would I tell Bert if something happened to you?¡± He tried to smile, but his cut lips pulled, and he didn¡¯t have the adrenaline to ignore it.

    Addie shook her head. ¡°No. No, I¡¯m not being fair. I¡¯ll stay. Just promise me you won¡¯t get yourself killed.¡±

    This time, Tony couldn¡¯t stop the smile despite the pain. ¡°All right. That¡¯s a promise.¡± He jerked his chin toward the water table, where he could just see the red top of Maisie¡¯s head. ¡°Walk with me for some water?¡±

    Addie glanced that way, then shook her head, yelling to be heard, ¡°I¡¯ll find a spot outside the crowd. It¡¯s too noisy! I¡¯ll watch through Humpty!¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°We still gonna hang out afterward?¡±

    Addie raised an eyebrow. ¡°If you¡¯re still free.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be free. We had plans, right?¡±

    Addie nodded, and this time, when she turned to walk away, she was smiling. Tony walked toward the water table, still confused by the encounter. When he cleared the crowd and saw Maisie standing there, arms folded, toe tapping, and a glare aimed into the crowd toward where Addie had gone, he slowed, his confusion clearing. He wasn¡¯t always good at reading people¡¯s expressions, but he had a feeling he might have gotten himself into some trouble.

 18. A Sad Story

    18 ¨C A Sad Story

    Maisie looked at Tony as he approached, and her glare fell away. To his surprise, she didn¡¯t make any remarks about Addie but instead offered him a big red cup of water. ¡°Thanks.¡± He drank it in three gulps.

    ¡°Thirsty!¡± She laughed, turning back to the table and nudging past another fighter, a ¡°barebones¡± woman with a perfect V-shaped back. A drip of blood fell off Tony¡¯s eyebrow, distracting him, and when he looked up, Maisie was there with a full cup.

    ¡°Thanks again.¡± He shrugged, almost apologetically, as he gulped half of it, then slowed to a sip. ¡°You think they have glue at the first aid station? I don¡¯t think the blood-stop is cutting it.¡±

    ¡°I was going to suggest that!¡± Maisie grabbed his elbow and guided him through the crowd to the blue-and-white booth where a couple of volunteers were treating minor injuries. Tony and his self-appointed escort had to wait outside the holobarrier¡ªflickering, neon-green lines projected from plastic stanchions to keep people from crowding¡ªuntil one of the seats opened up. Still, it only took a couple of minutes.

    Tony squinted around the big gym as he sat down, looking for a clock. ¡°How long ¡¯til the final round?¡±

    Maisie smiled. ¡°No PAI?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I got my data port jacked and my poor little AI with it.¡±

    ¡°Oh? ¡®Poor little¡¯? You must have had a good one to think of it like that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. She was with me for a while¡ªa LucidMinds model.¡±

    ¡°LucidMinds?¡± Maisie¡¯s dark eyebrows shot up, and Tony smiled, liking how they contrasted with her bright pink, peach-fuzz hair. ¡°Pricey!¡±

    ¡°Tell me about it.¡± He groaned, trying to push the thought out of his mind.

    A young guy in well-stained scrubs stepped out from behind a portable curtain barrier and looked at Tony. ¡°Shit, man. You sure you don¡¯t need a trauma center?¡±

    Tony looked down at his left arm and hand, noting the bloodstains, even on the tape that had been under his glove. He guessed his face and head looked pretty damn terrible. Judging from the medic¡¯s expression, it wasn¡¯t any surprise that Addie had been freaked out. ¡°I¡¯m good, doc¡ªjust need some glue in these cuts so they heal up.¡±

    The guy frowned, but he stepped closer, peering at Tony¡¯s forehead and then using his gloved fingers to gently probe Tony¡¯s scalp, pulling his stiff, blood-clotted hair this way and that to discover the other lacerations. ¡°I keep telling Golden he needs to get a doctor in here for these things. Human flesh and bone aren¡¯t meant to be pounded on by mechanical fists and knees!¡± He sighed heavily and then turned to his equipment cart. ¡°I think you¡¯re right, though. I¡¯ve got some FleshMend in here that¡¯ll close up those lacerations without much of a scar.¡±

    ¡°Sweet.¡± Tony was eyeing Maisie. She stood to the side, arms behind her back, sort of bouncing on the balls of her feet as she looked around the gym. ¡°You gotta be somewhere?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She jerked her head around to face him. ¡°Oh, um, no. I just have a lot of energy. I¡¯m always bouncing. Is it irritating?¡±

    Tony, careful not to split open his lip again, offered a slow-motion smile. ¡°Nah.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re friends with Addie, huh?¡±

    Tony braced himself, getting ready for whatever drama existed between the two women. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Maisie nodded. ¡°She¡¯s pretty cool. I¡¯ve known her for a while.¡±

    He would have given her a double-take, surprised by the comment, considering the death glare she¡¯d been shooting Addie¡¯s way earlier, but the medic moved in front of him and began scrubbing one of his cuts with an alcohol pad. Tony winced, and the guy chuckled. ¡°Stings, huh? Someone filled your cut with blood-stop. You know that stuff mixes with your blood and coagulates. It¡¯s like tar. Sorry, but it¡¯ll come out after the alcohol permeates.¡±

    To distract himself, Tony continued talking to Maisie. ¡°Did you two go to school together?¡±

    The medic scrubbed again, grinning as Tony sucked a breath through his teeth. ¡°It¡¯s coming out. I¡¯m going to go ahead and put alcohol in your other cuts to start the process. Just breathe through it, buddy.¡±

    Maisie moved around the side of the medic so Tony could see her as she answered, ¡°No, but I worked at her dad¡¯s store for a little while when I first moved into the district. That was a few years back. He really gave me a hand when I needed it.¡±

    Tony cussed as the medic began dabbing an alcohol applicator into his other cuts. When he thought the torture was almost over, he squinted at Maisie through his watering eye. ¡°No shit?¡±

    ¡°Really!¡± She nodded. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Because Bert¡¯s helping me out the same way right now. That¡¯s how I met Addie.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Maisie¡¯s eyes lit up, and her dimple reappeared. ¡°So you¡¯re new, new.¡±

    ¡°Yep, just trying to make some bits here; otherwise, I¡¯d be hanging out at his shop, sweeping the sidewalk or something.¡± The medic pinched the cut over Tony¡¯s eyebrow together while he used another applicator to spread a thin bead of nanite-enriched glue into the wound. Thinking about the cut got him thinking about the fight, and he remembered he¡¯d never gotten an answer about the time. ¡°Hey, you never told me what time it was.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Maisie leaned closer. ¡°You¡¯ve got twenty minutes before the final.¡±

    The medic tsked. ¡°You¡¯re fighting again? Why do I bother?¡±

    Tony found his plaintive question rather amusing and gave up a chuckle. ¡°Relax, doc, I don¡¯t intend to let this next guy pound on my face so much.¡± The man didn¡¯t respond; he just hummed as he continued working on Tony¡¯s cuts. Tony turned to Maisie, ¡°So, what¡¯s your deal?¡±

    ¡°My ¡®deal¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I mean, I like having someone to talk to and appreciate you showing me around, but was it all about, you know, your uncle¡¯s situation?¡±

    ¡°Um, no!¡± Her pink irised eyes narrowed and darkened dangerously. ¡°If it was, why would I be standing here watching you get nursed¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± The medic scowled at her. ¡°I¡¯m a medic, and I¡¯m not ¡®nursing¡¯ him. You know what that means, right? You see any milk leaking through these scrubs?¡±

    Tony snorted, but Maisie wasn¡¯t amused. ¡°You know what I meant! Is there something wrong with nurses?¡±

    The medic sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just a smartass.¡±

    Maisie rolled her eyes and looked at Tony. ¡°Anyway, should I go, then?¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s up to you. I was just curious.¡± He¡¯d dealt with enough hotheads to know better than to take the bait when things got turned around on him. He hardly knew Maisie and didn¡¯t see why his question should have offended her.

    ¡°Well, I thought we could hang out for a few minutes. I want to see your fight.¡±

    Wincing, eyes watering from the medic¡¯s ministrations, Tony looked up at her and had to smile again. She was damn cute the way her dark brows narrowed over those bright eyes as she looked up at him. ¡°Cool. Like I said, I enjoy the company.¡±

    The medic slapped his shoulder. ¡°Okay, Romeo. You¡¯re all set. Try not to get my work ruined, all right?¡±

    Tony smirked at him, arching an eyebrow. The man just shrugged and winked, reaching up to rub his five o¡¯clock shadow. He seemed like a decent guy, so Tony lightly punched him on the shoulder and held out his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Tony, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Benji.¡± He shook Tony¡¯s mechanical hand firmly, and when they released, Tony went in for a fist bump, and the guy¡¯s response was perfect and automatic.

    ¡°My man.¡± Grinning, Tony nudged Maisie with his elbow. ¡°Let¡¯s go chill in the corner of the mat, there. I can stretch, and you can tell me about this place.¡±

    He led the way, and she followed. ¡°This place? The gym?¡±

    ¡°Sure, the gym¡ªwhatever.¡±

    When they sat down, Tony made some half-hearted attempts to stretch¡ªhe was never big on stretching and was already loose. Maisie fidgeted, and the awkwardness of silence loomed, so he figured he could try to get to the bottom of her glare toward Addie earlier. ¡°So, you and Addie are still friends? You keep in touch with Bert?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Um, I say hi to Bert now and then. I sold a data deck in his shop a few weeks back. Addie¡¯s not cool with me, if you want the truth.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± Tony stretched out his leg and reached for his toes.

    Maisie, smiling coyly, pressed her much smaller foot against the bottom of his, tapping lightly as she replied, ¡°It¡¯s kind of a sad story.¡±

    ¡°Oh, if you don¡¯t want to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s all right. If you¡¯re friends, you should probably know this about us. She had a good friend in the neighborhood¡ªa kid she grew up with. Well, when I moved here to live with my uncle and help out with my grandma, Bert gave me a job, like I told you. I met Addie and this boy there¡ªSimon.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Tony prodded, doing what he knew just about everyone appreciated and he found exceedingly easy: listening.

    ¡°I thought he was cute, and I started flirting. We went out a few times.¡±

    ¡°Addie didn¡¯t appreciate it?¡±

    Maisie drew in a deep breath and blew it out, shaking her head. ¡°She was cool about it. The trouble started one night when I wanted to go out to one of the thumper clubs down closer to the NGT building. Addie heard us talking and said we shouldn¡¯t go down there on a weekend¡ªtoo many bangers, she said.¡±

    Tony nodded, switching legs. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°But I wanted to go! I hadn¡¯t been out dancing since moving to the Blast, and Simon was so¡­fresh, you know? I wanted to see his reaction to the scene at Fade Lady¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°That a club?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, you¡¯re new!¡± She giggled and tapped her toes against his foot again. As she started talking again, though, the humor left her eyes, and her smile fell away. ¡°So, I talked him into it, and on our way home that night, bangers jumped us. Took Simon¡¯s data deck and his new shoes. They could¡¯ve left then. He gave ¡®em up¡ªwasn¡¯t trying to fight or chase. He was even on the ground, you know, ¡¯cause he sat down to pull off his shoes? Anyway, one of them hit him on the side of the head with a pipe. Knocked him out so hard that he never woke up again.¡±

    ¡°Jesus.¡± Tony, mid-stretch, reached out with one hand to grip the arch of her foot and gently squeeze it. ¡°That must have left a mark.¡±

    ¡°A mark?¡± She arched her right eyebrow.

    ¡°In here.¡± He pulled back his hand and patted his chest. When Maisie just sniffed and nodded, looking to the side, he resumed stretching. ¡°Addie held a grudge?¡±

    ¡°At first. I mean, she was torn up about Simon. They grew up here, you know? But his mom sheltered that boy. So much! Like, more than you¡¯d think possible in a hood like this.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but Addie?¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. She didn¡¯t talk to me until after the funeral. She found me, then¡ªover at the park on Holt? Where all the gum-boys hang out?¡± When Tony just shook his head, indicating he had no idea what she was talking about, she shrugged. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. She found me, and when I thought she might try to stab me or shoot me or something, she just hugged me and passed me a note.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you guys are good?¡± Tony didn¡¯t have to feign confusion.

    Maisie shook her head, and her voice got very small. ¡°It was a note from Simon to Addie. I mean, who writes a note anymore, you know? To be fair, Simon didn¡¯t have a PAI¡ªhis mom wouldn¡¯t let him on the net. She was one of the OGs¡ªone of the folks who were living around here during the real deal, the actual Blast. She¡ª¡±

    Tony chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re killing me, sis. What about the note? Why isn¡¯t Addie good with you?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Maisie smiled, but it looked half-hearted as she tapped Tony¡¯s foot again with her toes. He suddenly had the feeling that her meandering tale was her way of avoiding a painful subject. He almost changed the topic, trying to let her off the hook, but she started speaking again, ¡°The note was a confession to Addie from Simon. He was telling her that he¡¯d always had a crush on her. I don¡¯t know if he ever gave it to her or if she found it, but, well, I thought it was pretty mean of her to give it to me.¡±

    Tony¡¯s brows narrowed. ¡°Um, yeah, actually, that does sound pretty mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Maisie interrupted, ¡°I thought maybe I was looking at it wrong. I mean, she hugged me. I don¡¯t know when Simon wrote that. Maybe she rejected him. Maybe she was feeling guilty ¡¯cause she chased him to me, and I¡¯m the one who got him killed. Maybe she just wanted me to know that she was hurting too, that she¡¯d lost something when Simon died, something more than a friend. She¡¯d never admit that to anyone, though, I bet.¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Tony reached out and squeezed her foot again, ¡°don¡¯t say it was your fault. Did you hit Simon with a pipe?¡± Maisie sniffed and looked away, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s right. It was that asshole¡¯s fault. Jesus, have you ever talked to someone about this?¡±

    ¡°Sure. My uncle, my cousins¡­¡± She forced a chuckle, sniffing again, then looked at Tony, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I just haven¡¯t thought about all that in a while.¡±

    Suddenly, Tony heard his name, and it shook him out of the focus he¡¯d fallen into, listening to Maisie¡¯s sad story, ¡°¡­Tony S, report to the fight table to check in! Final round starts in five!¡± It was Golden¡¯s voice. Tony jumped to his feet and looked down at Maisie. ¡°Catch up with me over at Bert¡¯s sometime soon, will you? I told Addie I¡¯d hang after the fight. ¡¯Kay?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she grunted softly as she hopped off the mat. ¡°Really? I was hoping we could¡ª¡±

    ¡°I would. Seriously, you¡¯re cool as hell, but I don¡¯t wanna be a flake.¡±

    Maisie¡¯s lips pressed into a thin smile, and she nodded once. ¡°Well, yeah, sure. I¡¯ll come by with the money my uncle owes you, cert?¡± She held out a fist.

    Tony grinned and bumped her knuckles. ¡°Certified.¡± With that, he jogged over to the table, shaking out his shoulders to loosen up. One more fight, and he¡¯d have a little stack of bits in his pocket. ¡°Let¡¯s just make it quick,¡± he muttered, pushing through the crowd, ¡°I¡¯m sick of getting punched for now.¡±

    ***

    Addie sat a few buildings down the street from the gym on an old, battered plasteel picnic table Mina Yoon had set up to sell her gimbap rolls. She¡¯d sold out hours ago but left the table. Addie leaned forward, tracing some of the names carved into the not-plastic, not-metal material. Plasteel was sturdy, insulative, and cheap to produce, so a lot of things were made out of it. Some of Tony¡¯s arm was plasteel¡ª

    She clicked her tongue, interrupting her thoughts, irritated that her mind was chasing stupid tangents. The only reason she was thinking about plasteel was so she wouldn¡¯t have to think about how she¡¯d reacted to Tony earlier¡ªhow she¡¯d felt when she saw Maisie. ¡°And so I don¡¯t flick to my drone feed.¡± She didn¡¯t like watching the fight, even if Tony hadn¡¯t gotten hurt yet.

    She might not be focusing her full attention on the feed, but she was keeping a fraction of her attention on it. The two fighters were mostly dancing around¡ªboth guys pretty fast, and it was clear that neither one was eager to get hit with one of those mechanical arms. ¡°God, why don¡¯t they just, I don¡¯t know, have an arm wrestling match or something?¡±

    ¡°Addie, you can just call me JJ. Also, I¡¯m afraid I cannot answer that question.¡±

    The stupid old joke got a snort out of Addie, and as she lay her head on her arm, idly watching the crowd walk by, her lips curled into a small smile. ¡°JJ, I wish I knew your previous owner because I swear you¡¯ve made me laugh with that one a hundred times. I owe him some thanks.¡±

    ¡°Ronald Westlake lived in District Fifteen, but when he passed away, I was pulled. I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what happened between then and when you activated me.¡±

    ¡°I know, JJ. I just wish things were different.¡± Addie shifted the focus of her drone to the crowd near the ring. There was Maisie, cute as ever, staring with rapt attention at Tony while he fought, her fists clenched in nervous anticipation. Addie watched while she flinched and winced, reacting to the fighters¡¯ moves, then sighed heavily and focused the drone on the fight.

    Malik did some kind of a stutter step and then kicked up at Tony¡¯s head. Tony blocked it with his mechanical arm, then, almost like a dance move, he stepped to the side of Malik¡¯s hip, squatted, bracing himself on his other hand, and swept a leg through Malik¡¯s other knee, sending the bulky fighter to the mat with a reverberating thud. Tony hopped up and bounced back, watching Malik with a crooked grin as the other fighter clambered to his feet, a little wobbly.

    Addie didn¡¯t know enough about fighting, to be sure, but it felt like Tony was playing with Malik. Why hadn¡¯t he tried to finish the fight when he took him down? Now, he was dancing around him again, dodging and blocking attacks that looked more and more desperate. Addie zoomed Humpty¡¯s powerful primary lens in on Tony¡¯s face, marveling at how much better he looked than when she¡¯d seen him earlier.

    The bandage or tape over his eye was still stained with blood, but the gash over his good eye was just a thin line now, and it wasn¡¯t bleeding at all. The blood that had been leaking from his nose, his split lip, and soaking his hair¡ªall gone. He must have rinsed off, and, Addie supposed, his Dust-tech nanites must be good at clearing up bruises. Dust-tech. The word brought her thoughts around to Dust, and suddenly, she was seeing Zane in her mind¡¯s eye and feeling a different kind of frustration.

    Frustration. That was a good word to describe the turmoil in her chest, the weird little flops her stomach kept doing when she thought about Zane or Tony getting beaten up or Maisie hugging Tony before Addie had even really gotten to know him. How had she already gotten familiar enough with him to hug? Among all the people in the Blast, how had he gotten to know Maisie in the thirty minutes Addie had left him alone? ¡°It¡¯s like I¡¯m cursed.¡±

    ¡°Would you like me to search the city net for remedies?¡±

    Addie smiled. ¡°Do you believe in curses, JJ?¡±

    ¡°Should I not, Addie? When your mother¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush, JJ.¡± Addie knew what he was going to say. She¡¯d spoken to JJ plenty about curses over the last few years. Her grandma¡¯s death, her mom¡¯s, her dad¡¯s withdrawal, Simon¡¯s death, her ¡°fading¡±¡ªthey¡¯d all added up plenty in her mind to qualify as a ¡°curse.¡± Now, here she was, starting to make a new friend, and he was somehow, against all probability, getting mixed up with Maisie, the one woman in the district with good reason to hate Addie. ¡°Why¡¯d I give her that note?¡± For once, JJ knew to keep his mouth shut.

    A change in the tenor of the crowd¡¯s cheering brought her attention back to the drone feed, and she saw Tony laying into Malik¡ªa combination of punches that left the bulky fighter stunned, teetering slowly to fall to the mat. The referee blew a whistle and made a cutting motion with his hand, indicating the fight was over. Addie smiled when she saw Tony¡¯s face¡ªrelaxed and smiling. He was sweaty but not breathing very hard. ¡°Well, I missed it, I guess, but I have the whole thing recorded. We can watch it later¡ªmaybe with Tony. He did say he still wanted to hang out.¡±

    She sat up, watching the crowd slowly disperse as people realized it was the last fight. In her drone¡¯s feed, she watched Tony get jostled, slapped on the back, picked up, hugged, and then threatened¡ªas he cleared the crowd, walking toward the table Golden sat at, some members of Malik¡¯s gang, the Cold Boys, poked and shoved him saying he better watch his back. Tony took the threats in stride, shrugging and waving in that irritating, flippant attitude of his, then walked over to the table where he retrieved his shoes and collected his reward from Golden.

    Addie trailed him with her drone as he started away from the gym, but when he turned the wrong way, she buzzed Humpty in front of him, and he grinned, tracking the drone with his silver eye as Addie led him to her. ¡°Congratulations!¡± she said when he approached.

    ¡°Hey, thanks.¡± He was in the middle of putting this tracksuit jacket on, and he paused to zip it all the way up so the collar hugged his neck. Then, he came around the table and sat beside her. ¡°This is a cool spot, but how about we grab a bite? I¡¯m starved.¡± Before Addie could respond, he pulled his bit-locker out of his pocket and grinned. ¡°I¡¯m buying.¡±

    ¡°Feeling flush now?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and I don¡¯t even know how much I won by letting that other guy beat me up for a while.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you let him?¡±

    Tony¡¯s grin widened, and he winced, reaching up to touch his split lip. ¡°Dammit.¡±

    Addie mock-punched him in the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t let people beat you up, dummy!¡±

    Tony winked his eye, offering a much smaller smile. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to make it a habit. So? Hungry?¡±

    Addie¡¯s smile was bright, and she knew her eyes reflected it because she felt happy in that moment. ¡°Yeah, Tony. I¡¯m starved!¡±

 19. Heart to Heart

    18 ¨C Heart to Heart

    Tony crumpled up his wrapper and tossed it to the left where a plastic trash can stood, zip-tied to a piece of fencing¡ªone of Boxer¡¯s futile efforts to keep the Boxer Day celebrations from making too much of a mess in the district. Addie watched Tony unwrap another taco; they¡¯d gotten a sampling from four different trucks. He reached into the paper sack and took out a little salsa container, this one bright orange, and drizzled a little on the taco where he intended to take a bite.

    Addie winced. ¡°That one¡¯s really hot!¡±

    Her words didn¡¯t slow him, and he took a big, crunching bite. He grinned as he chewed, and Addie watched as his eye began to water, and he grabbed an ice cube out of his cup of cola to rub on his split lip. ¡°Oof!¡± Addie winced again, this time in sympathy. ¡°I bet that stings!¡±

    Tony swallowed his bite, grimacing, and nodded. ¡°Yeah, forgot about that.¡± He held up the taco. ¡°I like this better than the last one.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think Sammy¡¯s is one of the better trucks. He sets up down by the NGT tower and has lines all day.¡±

    ¡°We should go again.¡± He said it so casually¡ªlike it was a given that they¡¯d be going out to eat again¡ªthat Addie couldn¡¯t help smiling and nodding. Despite her internal objections, she couldn¡¯t deny it was nice to have someone to hang out with again. She sipped her cola and watched him finish his taco. He switched out the habanero salsa with something milder and tried to avoid the cut on his lip. It was pretty funny to watch, so she didn¡¯t try to hide the smile stretching her lips.

    Between bites, he asked, ¡°Which one was your favorite?¡±

    ¡°The, um, carnitas with the lime salsa.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°I think I had one of those. It was good¡ª¡±

    ¡°You had two!¡± Addie laughed. She¡¯d seen people who could put away a lot of food. She¡¯d watched Beef slurp down a massive cheesy pizza while his two cronies watched with wide eyes and drooling mouths. Even so, Tony¡¯s appetite after fighting was admirable. He said it was the nanites accelerating his healing; his body needed fuel. She was pretty sure he was just used to eating a lot more than he had in the last few days. ¡°So? You¡¯re going to see about your eye next?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but if it¡¯s too much, I¡¯ll probably buy a cheap data port and an older-model PAI.¡±

    ¡°JJ¡¯s getting pretty old, but I think he gets the job done.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Addie, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush, JJ.¡±

    Tony snorted, shaking his head, smiling crookedly to spare his lip. ¡°He¡¯s a character, huh?¡± Before Addie could respond, he held up a finger. ¡°Hey! You were late to my fights!¡±

    Addie looked down at her last half-eaten taco. She¡¯d felt full a few minutes ago and decided not to finish it, but watching him eat made her want another bite. She nodded as she scooped it up, carefully keeping the loose, fresh-chopped pico de gallo from spilling out. ¡°Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. I got distracted at an, uh, event. Then Jamal messaged me, and I went to meet him real quick. To be fair, you started way earlier than you told me you would.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, fair. What event?¡±

    Addie took a bite, inhaling through her nose while she chewed and mulled over how much she wanted to tell him. Was she ready to start talking about her¡­fading situation? Maybe not that far, but she could broach the topic a little. She swallowed her bite and reached across the table for the habanero salsa Tony had set aside. ¡°I saw a guy who everyone was calling a spark. He was doing magic tricks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Tony watched her pour a generous dollop of the orange-tinted salsa on her last bite, his eye crinkling with amusement. Still, he didn¡¯t say anything, didn¡¯t try to warn her, or remark about how spicy it was. Addie liked that, even though she¡¯d done the opposite.

    Before she took the bite, she said, ¡°He was the real deal, I think. He even, like, turned off gravity in the audience.¡± She stuffed the last of her taco into her mouth, savoring the soft tortilla''s slightly greasy texture as it soothed the tastebuds set alight by the salsa. Tony didn¡¯t respond; he was busy watching her chew, and Addie was sure she could see the little muscles on the sides of his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched. Was he clenching in time with her chews?

    As she swallowed, he pushed her cup of soda closer, and Addie smiled, taking a long, deep gulp of the fizzy stuff. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I love watching people eat.¡± He shrugged almost apologetically.

    ¡°I do, too!¡± Addie laughed. ¡°Anyway, that spark had some interesting things to say to me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°Make you a deal.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tony leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist, the left side of his mouth curling into a smile.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you something interesting about the spark and me, but then I get to ask you a question.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Tony leaned back, slowly shaking his head. ¡°That sounds like trouble. If you feel like it¡¯s something we gotta make a deal for, then you must think I probably won¡¯t want to answer¡ª¡±

    ¡°Come on, Tony!¡± Addie sighed. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to get to know you a little.¡±

    Tony drummed his fingers on the table. ¡°Tell you what. I¡¯ll agree, but then we get to play again, and we both ask a question.¡±

    Addie narrowed her eyes. What did he have in mind? She shrugged. ¡°Okay, fine. So, I¡¯ll start by telling you something interesting, and then I get to ask first.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Right.¡±

    ¡°So, when the spark did his big trick, I saw weird, glittering, misty sparkles flying out of his hands, and, later, when we were talking, he said that meant I was probably at least a gleam. Then, like you, he noticed how I operate Humpty¡ª¡± Addie patted her backpack. ¡°¡ªand said he¡¯d bet I was probably a spark. Actually, his words were, ¡®at least a spark,¡¯ as if there were people who could do a lot more, you know?¡±

    Of course, as soon as she mentioned she could see the ¡°misty sparkles,¡± Tony had begun grinning again, so much so that he¡¯d reached up with his fingers to pinch his lower lip, trying to keep from stretching his cut. ¡°I told you. Anyway, that¡¯s cool. Nothing wrong with it, I mean. You and your dad were acting kinda funny about the whole subject, so I dropped it, but I knew the way you were flying that Dust-tech that there was something more to it.¡±

    ¡°Well, it might not be a big deal to you, but I¡¯m still freaking out a little right now. I only spoke to him a couple of hours ago, but it feels like it¡¯s been a week¡ªlike, my mind¡¯s been racing down all sorts of avenues. I think that¡¯s why I brought it up, in case I seem spacy.¡±

    ¡°Sis, I just got punched in the head about twenty times. You think I can recognize spacy?¡±

    Addie snorted a soft laugh, but then she squinted at him, really looking at him for a moment. The split on his lip was a lot smaller than when she¡¯d seen him after his fight. Wasn¡¯t it? ¡°You¡¯ve got some primo nanites, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Tony arched an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s your question?¡±

    Addie hurriedly waved a hand. ¡°No! No, no. Don¡¯t answer that!¡±

    ¡°Sure?¡± The way he asked made Addie hesitate. Was there some kind of interesting story about those nanites? Or was he trying to draw her away from more sensitive topics?This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    She grinned and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sure. My question is, basically, what¡¯s the deal with you? How¡¯d you end up in the Blast? I get you were stripped and dumped, but, like, if someone¡¯s willing to do that to you, why wouldn¡¯t they kill you? Why would they leave a guy like you alive?¡±

    ¡°A guy like me?¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°Dangerous.¡±

    Tony hurriedly grabbed his lower lip again as his grin widened. ¡°Oof!¡± he grunted, shaking his head. ¡°You should know better than to call a guy ¡®dangerous¡¯¡ªour egos can only take so much stroking before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, hush!¡± Addie reached for her cola. ¡°Come on, quit stalling and answer me. You know what I mean.¡±

    ¡°All right. ¡®What¡¯s my deal?¡¯ Huh. Well, see, Addie, when I woke up down here, and your lovely friend Beef greeted me with a choice¡ªwork for him or die¡ªI found that, deep down, I still wanted to live. I know that sounds a little dumb. Who wouldn¡¯t want to live, right? Well, when I woke up, I was pretty sure I was done. Like, I didn¡¯t want to deal with it. I just wanted the misery to end. I don¡¯t mean this stuff.¡± Tony pointed to his cybernetic arm and his tape-covered eye. ¡°I mean everything¡ªthings in here¡ª¡± He pressed his palm to his chest, tapping his fingers. ¡°¡ªthings I don¡¯t want to remember.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Addie¡¯s voice was soft as she spoke, and she looked down. She wouldn¡¯t press him. She wouldn¡¯t make him go somewhere that had made him feel like dying. She felt embarrassed and knew her cheeks were flaring with it. Why hadn¡¯t she thought of that? He¡¯d been nearly killed and abandoned in a very dangerous part of the city. Did that sound like a story someone would want to relive while eating tacos with a near-total stranger? ¡°I¡¯m sorr¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not saying that to shut you down or make you feel bad. I¡¯m telling you that because it was an important point in my life, and it has a lot to do with what I will and won¡¯t tell you. You see, when I decided I wanted to live, that I¡¯d be willing to submit to a two-bit street thug¡­ Well, when I made that decision, I had to put some things away, like deep, deep down. Things had happened to me, all right, things that, taken all together, were too much for me to function with. I either wanted to die or go on a murderous rampage¡ªboth, really.¡±

    Tony patted his chest like he was looking for something in a breast pocket, and, finding nothing there, he smirked and shook his head, chagrin plain on his face. After a few seconds¡¯ pause, he started talking again. ¡°In my shape, a rampage wouldn¡¯t do much good. It was the same thing as suicide. I¡¯d already decided I wanted to live, so I locked away the things that made me feel that way. Like, seriously, I put ¡¯em away deep, and every time my conscious mind starts drifting that way, I see that big locked door and steer it back where it needs to be. Right here¡ª¡± He nodded at Addie. ¡°¡ªin the present.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Are you seriously taking like ten minutes to tell me that you aren¡¯t going to answer my question?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m getting to it. You asked why they¡¯d let me live¡ªwhy they¡¯d throw me down here, alive and a potential threat. Well, the truth is they know me pretty damn well. I¡¯m rather certain they expected me to flare out down here. It wasn¡¯t that they were too chicken to pull the trigger. The thing is, they wanted it to hurt me here.¡± Again, Tony tapped his fingers on his chest. ¡°They wanted me humiliated and to know crushing defeat as I failed to get back at them. Or, they wanted me to wake up, look at what they took from me, and just end it. Either way, I¡¯m worse off than if they¡¯d just given me a quick death.¡±

    Addie narrowed her eyes, thinking about his words. What would such betrayal feel like? What would it feel like to have friends¡ªAddie got the feeling they¡¯d been friends¡ªtake everything away from you and, worse, want you to suffer for it? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tony,¡± was the only thing she could think of to say, and she hated how ineffectual the words were.

    ¡°Hey, things have looked up since I met you and your pops¡ªnothin¡¯ for you to feel sorry for.¡± He folded his arms and leaned back a little. ¡°My turn?¡±

    ¡°Well, I wanted to ask a follow-up. Is that allowed?¡± Addie tried to look non-threatening, twirling her straw around in the half-full cup of cola.

    ¡°Shoot.¡±

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re going to? I mean, do you think those¡­people who did that to you were right? Are you going to flare out?¡± As she finished speaking, Addie looked up and locked her eyes on his. His eye socket was deep and shadowed by his angled brow, always on the verge of a scowl in its resting position. She liked it when he smiled, and the little lines at the corners crinkled up; he looked like a different person. Her question, unfortunately, didn¡¯t make him smile.

    ¡°I dunno.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I pushed all that shit into a locked door, remember? Right now, I¡¯m just going day by day. Today, I earned some bits, and right now, I¡¯m enjoying some tacos with a cool chick. That¡¯s as far as I¡¯m looking ahead right now.¡±

    Addie smiled. ¡°You think I¡¯m cool?¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah! Thousand ways you could burn out in a district like this, but you¡¯re trying to do something real. Not much cooler than that.¡± As Addie once again felt her cheeks getting hot, he leaned closer to the table, arching his only visible eyebrow. ¡°So? My turn?¡±

    ¡°Okay, go ahead.¡± Addie mimicked his earlier posture and folded her arms over her chest.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get upset if it¡¯s a little personal?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± Addie wondered what he could want to know about. Was he going to ask about her last boyfriend or something? Was he about to hit on her? Would she be okay with that? He¡¯d pretty much just admitted that he was one bad day away from ending it all, so that didn¡¯t exactly qualify him as boyfriend material. She realized she was stalling and he was staring, so she just shrugged. ¡°I won¡¯t get upset.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about what¡¯s up with you and Maisie.¡±

    ¡°Oh, dammit!¡± Addie felt like she¡¯d just been hit with a left hook. Hadn¡¯t she seen this coming? Hadn¡¯t she lamented the fact that the one person in the entire district who had a genuine reason to hate her was hanging around with Tony? Of course Maisie had mentioned their problems. She realized she was leaning forward, cradling her head, when she felt Tony¡¯s rubber-padded plasteel fingers gently grip her shoulder.

    ¡°Hey, looks like I went too far. Forget it, all right?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Addie looked up, shaking her head. On the bright side, she wasn¡¯t crying, and she¡¯d stopped blushing. She felt a little angry and a little detached, but, in another way, she was eager to confess her shameful behavior. She¡¯d never told anyone about it, and it weighed heavily on her. ¡°Fair¡¯s fair. I was pretty rotten to her a few years back.¡±

    Tony pulled his hand back, and Addie was a little surprised by how she sort of wished he hadn¡¯t. He let his hard, plasteel forearm rest on the table, then leaned on it so he had to look up at her as she spoke. ¡°You see, she was dating a good friend of mine, and when he got killed, I blamed her. It was irrational and mean, and I hated myself for doing it, but the feelings were there, twisting my guts every night. I wanted the world to suffer for his death, but the only person I could affect was Maisie. I had the perfect weapon¡ªa note Simon had given me a little while before he died. It said he¡¯d always wanted to be more than friends with me, you see?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I see.¡± Tony¡¯s voice was soft, but she didn¡¯t hear any judgment in his tone, at least not yet.

    ¡°So, I gave it to her. I found her at a park and handed it to her. I immediately felt guilty, so I hugged her and ran. I never really spoke to her again.¡±

    ¡°So you were hurting, and you lashed out. Not a cool thing to do, but we¡¯ve all done things like it. It¡¯s too bad you aren¡¯t sisters.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Addie¡¯s voice rose an octave in befuddled outrage.

    ¡°I mean, you don¡¯t live close enough together to be forced to reconcile. You¡¯ve both carried this burden separately¡ªeach of you dreading contact with the other. If you were sisters, your dad would¡¯ve knocked your heads together by now, and you would have worked it out.¡±

    ¡°Is that how it is with siblings?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, yeah. I mean, with me, it was an uncle. Usually, he¡¯d never got involved. Ray and I fought it out after a few days of cold shoulders.¡±

    ¡°Is that your brother? Ray?¡± The question seemed innocent and perfectly fair game, considering he¡¯d mentioned the name, but Tony¡¯s eye clouded over, and he scowled, shaking his head.

    ¡°Not anymore.¡± He stood abruptly. ¡°How about we take a walk? Let¡¯s cool off from all that hot sauce and check out some booths and stuff.¡±

    Addie clambered to her feet, grunting as her foot got caught on the strut between the bench and the picnic table. ¡°Hey, but you owe me one more answer.¡±

    Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets. ¡°Let me owe it to you, ¡¯kay?¡±

    Considering how he¡¯d refrained from judging her about a confession she¡¯d been dreading, Addie was feeling charitable. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± As she followed him out of the food truck alley, she realized she felt much more than charitable. She was feeling relieved and grateful and amazed that she¡¯d confessed one of the worst things she¡¯d ever done, and Tony¡¯s only response was to say how everyone had done similar things. She hurried up and grabbed his elbow, surprised by how hard the muscles felt under his tracksuit jacket. He slowed and looked down at her.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°Hey, um. I just wanted to say thanks. It feels good to share that with someone. I never have before.¡±

    Tony smiled a real, genuine smile and stretched his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. ¡°Not a problem, Ads.¡± He squeezed her for a couple of seconds before letting go. ¡°Not a problem at all.¡± It felt so nice that she didn¡¯t complain about the lingering odor of sweat and blood in the fabric of his tracksuit or that he¡¯d used a nickname she didn¡¯t exactly like. When he released her, he nodded toward Dino¡¯s Chrome Warehouse. ¡°Wanna go in there with me? Maybe they¡¯ve got a deal on something I need.¡±

    ¡°Sure, Tony. Let¡¯s check it out.¡± For the second or third time that night, Addie thought about how she liked being with him. He had an easy manner and never seemed flustered or out of sorts. He was a fish out of water down there, but no one would ever know it from his behavior. She liked hanging out with him, so much so that she hadn¡¯t thought about finding her dad like she usually ended up doing at events like that one.

    It was a nice feeling, but underneath it, Addie was already starting to build up some anxieties: was Tony going to try to get revenge on the people who hurt him? Was he going to ¡°flare out¡± in the Blast? Was Maisie going to poison him against her? Beneath those worries were new kinds of fears: would her Dust sensitivity continue to change her? Would she be forced to seek help from someone like Zane or the ¡°recruiter¡± he knew at Boxer? Would all of that get in the way of her dream of exposing the corruption in the Blast?

    It was a lot to worry about, and Addie wasn¡¯t the kind of person who could stuff her problems down and forget them. The best she could manage was to put them on hold for a little while as she tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. So, with that goal in mind, she forced herself to focus on the sights, sounds, and smells of Boxer Day before the district went back to normal in the morning.

 20. A Trip to the Clinic

    19 ¨C A Trip to the Clinic

    When Tony returned from the gym the following day, he was surprised to find the pawn shop still dark. Bert hadn¡¯t risen with the sun to open things up and brew the coffee, so Tony did. He unlocked the front door, turned on the lights, and woke up the point of sale terminal. He doubted customers would be in so early, but Bert always opened the store when he was up and about, so he figured the old guy would appreciate it. While he sat at the counter, sipping his black coffee, he opened the package for his new eye.

    It was a used model, of course, but the sales guy at Dino¡¯s Chrome Warehouse¡ªa middle-aged bald guy with half a dozen visible cybernetic parts¡ªhad sworn up and down that it had been fully refurbished and was backed by a guarantee. Addie seemed familiar with him, and she¡¯d nodded along encouragingly when Tony bought it, so he figured it was probably okay to take a risk, especially at the price¡ªonly eight hundred bits.

    He hoped the eye had been lightly used before Dino¡¯s got ahold of it. The fact that it still had its factory clamshell packaging was encouraging.  When he opened the box, a thin, folded pamphlet with a few coffee stains¡ªhe hoped¡ªfell out, and he unfolded it, giving it a once over:

    Welcome to the OptiView MK-IV ¨C Reliable Vision. Rugged Performance.

    Congratulations on your fully enclosed ocular implant purchase!

    The OptiView MK-IV is designed for users who demand dependable performance in a wide range of environments. This versatile model delivers precision optics and advanced functionality at an accessible price point.

    Features and Specifications:

    <ul>

    <li>LED Iris Display: Adaptive visual modes with status indicator.</li>

    <li>Enhanced Zoom: Up to 4x magnification for detailed focus.</li>

    <li>Low-Light Vision: Superior Clarity in dim conditions.</li>

    <li>Impact-Resistant Housing: Built for durability and daily wear, suitable for any occupation.</li>

    <li>Interface Compatibility: Seamless integration with standard data ports, neural links, and AUI systems.</li>

    </ul>

    Recommended Installation Practices:

    <ol>

    <li>Certified Installation Required: Ensure a licensed cybernetic specialist installs the OptiView MK-IV to guarantee proper alignment with orbital socket bone grafts and neural pathways.</li>

    <li>Bone Graft Preparation: For optimal fit, the orbital socket must be cleaned and prepared for the titanium alloy base.</li>

    <li>Calibration Process: Post-installation, run the included Opti-Optimize program to fine-tune focus, iris response, and neural integration.</li>

    <li> Healing Time: Consult your physician for guidance specific to your condition. In most cases, the eye implant is expected to be fully functional and free of discomfort within 72 hours following proper installation.</li>

    </ol>

    There was another section about maintenance and care, but the overall gist was that the eye should be fine with an annual inspection from a ¡°licensed cybernetic specialist.¡± Tony snorted, wondering if Doc Peters fit the bill. Somehow, he doubted it. He set the pamphlet aside and lifted the foam packing cover to reveal the implant.

    He¡¯d seen a hundred guys with similar pieces of tech over the years. It wasn¡¯t anything special¡ªa dull, silvery housing with a smoothly rotating metallic eyeball at the center. The front part of the eyeball was made of some kind of specially treated tempered glass, and, if the pictures on the package were any indicator, some LEDs were housed within. It was a true ¡°chrome¡± eye, not a pretty, life-like, fancy piece of biotech like Tony¡¯s other one. Still, it was an eye, and he¡¯d lose his annoying blind spot once it was installed.

    He chuckled softly, wondering what Doc Chavez would think. Tony had paid that asshole nearly a hundred k for his designer optics. ¡°Well, at least Eric left me one.¡± Shaking his head, Tony closed the box. He was hoping to head over to the chop-doc¡¯s clinic, but he¡¯d wait to see what was up with Bert and Addie first. He also hoped Maisie would stick to her promise and swing by with his money from her uncle. Tony had no clue how much it would be, but he hoped it might be enough to get him a cheap data port.

    Hi sighed and sipped his coffee, watching the languid traffic outside the front windows. Maybe it was a ¡°Boxer Day¡± thing; maybe everyone was hungover on cheap beer, and the local businesses had a late start. Heck, for all Tony knew, Boxer gave everyone the day off. He doubted it, though, corpos being what they were. The bottom line was king. The thoughts brought his mind around to the celebration the night before, and he found himself smiling, thinking about Addie and how she¡¯d tried to fish the details of his past out of him.

    She was pretty cute, that was for sure¡ªcute and surprisingly na?ve for someone who¡¯d grown up in a district like the Blast. How could she not have known she was a spark? The question made him frown as he tried to remember everything she¡¯d told him. Had she meant to tell him more? Had he acted interested enough? When she talked about the magician guy and how he¡¯d pegged her as ¡°at least a spark,¡± had he said anything more? Tony couldn¡¯t remember if Addie hadn¡¯t wanted to elaborate or if he¡¯d just been too self-absorbed to ask any follow-up questions.

    ¡°I do that sometimes,¡± he muttered, forgetting his old PAI, Ashley, wasn¡¯t there for him to bounce his thoughts off. She¡¯d been a pretty damn clever piece of tech¡ªeven had a psychologist package. He kept talking anyway. ¡°I get lost in my own issues, expecting people to be interested in my business but not taking the time to really think about what they¡¯re telling me.¡±

    Of course, Addie chose that moment to push the back door open and walk into the shop. She stared at Tony briefly, then let her eyes drift around the empty store. ¡°Were you talking to someone?¡±

    ¡°Myself.¡± Tony shrugged. ¡°Good morning. Something up with Bert?¡±

    ¡°Good morning to you, and yeah, his gout got worse¡ªprobably because he walked all over the district last night and drank way too much beer. He broke down, though, and asked me to go ask Doc Peters for his meds.¡±

    ¡°Gonna pay the full price, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, poor Dad. His toe is like a purple sausage.¡± She stuffed her hands in her jeans and shrugged. Tony thought she looked kind of cute in her close-fitting T-shirt advertising a band he¡¯d never heard of, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked fresh and unbothered by things like makeup and accessories, though he didn¡¯t miss that she wore lip gloss and had done something around her eyes to make them stand out a little more than usual. He realized she was still talking, ¡°¡­wanna come with?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um¡ª¡± Tony gestured to the empty storefront. ¡°¡ªdon¡¯t you think someone ought to be here?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll come down. He¡¯s just moving slowly. No one will be out shopping this early after Boxer Day, and if they come here and we¡¯re closed, people will understand. Half the stores in the district won¡¯t even open today.¡± She looked at the front door, saw the bright red neon of the open sign, and flashed him a quick smile. ¡°Pretty cool you opened up, in any case. It¡¯ll make him happy.¡± She leaned against the counter. ¡°So? Coming?¡±

    Tony wanted to say yes. He was eager to get his new eye implanted, but he wanted to get his bits from Maisie. He was also afraid she¡¯d expect to hang out, which would probably be awkward if he planned to go to the clinic with Addie. He opened his mouth but hesitated. Part of him wanted to be honest, which was his baseline response to anything, and part of him wanted to spare Addie¡¯s feelings, even though he didn¡¯t know how she¡¯d react. He was saved by the bell¡ªliterally¡ªas the door opened, setting off the little chime sound behind the counter.

    They both turned to the door to see not Maisie but her burly uncle in his gang jacket. Addie folded her arms and stepped to the side as he approached, tracking him with a narrow-eyed glare. Troy ignored her, his eyes fixed on Tony. He held up his fist, and Tony guessed he had something tucked within that ham-sized appendage. ¡°Yo, Tony. Maisie said I could find you here. Got your bits.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tony raised his left eyebrow¡ªhe¡¯d rebandaged his right eye at the gym, hating how the puckered, empty socket full of new flesh looked. If he weren¡¯t about to get a new eye installed, he¡¯d probably order some eyepatches or something.

    ¡°Yeah. She wanted to bring it by, but I needed her to watch the twins.¡± He slapped a bit-locker on the counter, then glanced at Addie, narrowing his bushy gray eyebrows at her glaring countenance. ¡°We good to talk for a minute?¡±

    Tony chuckled and slid the bit-locker closer to himself. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re good.¡±

    ¡°Seven-fifty on there¡ªyour cut. Look, the boys were pretty impressed with how you handled yourself last night, so if you wanna make some more money, something a little more serious, we could talk about it, yeah? I asked around, and it sounds like you¡¯re a free agent, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m¡­unaffiliated.¡± Tony grinned at the stupidity of it all.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Well, if you wanna change that, I already owe you one, and the boys have seen how you fight, so I don¡¯t think it would be a problem¡ª¡± He stopped short as Addie cleared her throat and walked behind the counter beside Tony.

    ¡°You think he should join the Black Jades? Seriously? He just got here, Troy, and the last thing he needs is to make enemies with half the district!¡±

    ¡°Ah, Adelaide Jones. You never change, do you? Beating that old drum just like your mom used to do.¡±

    ¡°Leave my mom out of this!¡±

    Troy held up his hands, palms out, as Tony shifted toward Addie. ¡°Hey, easy, I don¡¯t mean anything bad by it. I just think it¡¯s a lost cause, you know? The gangs are here¡ªhave been and always will be. The corpos don¡¯t give a rat¡¯s balls about how things work on the streets. We keep the peace. We keep shit from going from bad to worse, and you know it. If it weren¡¯t for the gangs protecting their territory, you¡¯d have chaos out there; the only safe place to live would be in Boxer¡¯s apartment stacks.¡±

    ¡°Talk about beating the same old drum. We¡¯ve all had this argument before. Anyway, Tony¡¯s not a banger; he worked as an operator before he came down here¡ª¡±

    ¡°Addie, I can speak for myself.¡± Tony tried to keep his voice even. He wasn¡¯t trying to rebuke her in front of Troy, but he didn¡¯t like to have people putting words in his mouth, either. He also wasn¡¯t sure he wanted people in the district to think of him as an operator; he was a long way from his solo days with plenty of gear, cash, and contacts. Even though he didn¡¯t exactly snap at her, Addie looked up at him with reddening cheeks, then stuffed her hands in her pockets again and stalked around the corner toward the stock room.

    Troy chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t mean to stir up any trouble. I get it; you¡¯ve got a comfy little job here with some nice folks, but you ain¡¯t gonna get ahead helping Bert out around his shop, and you don¡¯t look like the kind of guy who¡¯s gonna apply at Boxer. Even if you aren¡¯t interested in pledging, we¡¯re always looking for an extra hand here and there. I put my contact info on that bit-locker. Hit me up if you decide you wanna make some more scratch.¡± The big man held out his gnarled, scar-covered fist, and Tony knocked his knuckles against it.

    ¡°Sounds good.¡± He held up the bit-locker. ¡°Thanks for bringing this by.¡±

    ¡°You got it.¡± Troy turned and shuffled toward the door, the chains hanging from his leather jacket jangling softly. When he pushed the door and the chime sounded, he turned toward Tony. ¡°Hey, tell Adelaide I didn¡¯t mean anything bad about her mom. She was a great lady.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Will do.¡± He watched the grizzled old banger leave, and when the door closed, he turned, intending to find Addie, but she was already there, leaning a shoulder against the wall at the end of the counter. ¡°Hey, sorry if¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. You were right; who am I to speak for you? I hardly know you, right? Maybe you do want to join his gang. I mean, they¡¯re pretty tough, and you can see from looking at Troy that they have a better-than-average life expectancy. I¡¯m sorry I ran my¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on. Cut that out. You were right, but I just¡ªwell, I¡¯d prefer to deal with guys like Troy in my own way, right? Anyway, he said he didn¡¯t mean anything¡ª¡±

    ¡°I heard.¡± She nodded toward the door. ¡°Well? Are you going to come with me, or was I too annoying?¡±

    Tony smirked and held up the package containing his eye implant. ¡°I¡¯ll come, but only because I want this thing installed, definitely not for the company.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she growled, ¡°you¡¯re lucky you smiled when you said that!¡±

    Tony laughed. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. Should we turn the sign off? We should, right?¡±

    She nodded, once again shrugging her shoulders high as she looked at the door and the glowing sign. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll lock up in case my dad takes a while. He was soaking his foot in Epsom salts when I came down.¡±

    Tony snatched up his new eye and followed her out. Addie turned and looked into the little iris scanner, and the lock clicked home. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± she said, turning to the right instead of crossing the street and angling for the alley that would take them directly toward the clinic, ¡°let¡¯s go this way. Better chance to avoid Randal and his boys.¡±

    ¡°Randal?¡±

    ¡°Beef.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right.¡± Tony tucked his hands into the pockets of his second-hand jeans, easily catching up to Addie¡¯s shorter strides. After they¡¯d walked a little way in silence, he bumped her with his elbow. ¡°Hey.¡±

    Addie looked up at him, arching one of her thick, dark brows. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Was there more you were wanting to tell me about that magician guy?¡±

    ¡°Zane?¡± Addie¡¯s voice rose an octave as she said the name. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean, that sounded like a big experience to you, and I didn¡¯t ask you anything about it. Did it freak you out when you saw the dust?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Addie chuckled softly, shaking her head. ¡°Um, no, not really. I didn¡¯t know I wasn¡¯t supposed to see it. I mean, I thought it was part of the act.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re cool with being a spark, then?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far!¡± This time, Addie bumped him with her elbow. ¡°I haven¡¯t really thought about it all that much. Honestly, last night, I slept better than I have in a long, long time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Why¡¯s that?¡± Tony paused as Addie peered down an alley. He guessed she was ensuring no Helldogs were lurking near the dumpsters.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, this one¡¯s good.¡± As she led him through the minefield of broken electronics, soggy, torn furniture, and overfull dumpsters, she said, ¡°This part¡¯s a major secret, okay? Don¡¯t mention it to my dad.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    She turned to lock eyes with him. ¡°Promise?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±

    ¡°Well, since I was a lot younger, I¡¯ve been having weird things happen to me at night¡ªparts of me would disappear.¡± She laughed. ¡°Oh my God, that sounds nuts. It¡¯s true, though. First, it was a finger, then more fingers, and now it¡¯s my whole hand. It just disappears, and then, after a while, it comes back. I was convinced I was turning into a fade.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s pretty freaky.¡± Tony couldn¡¯t imagine what that would be like for a kid. ¡°Wait! You¡¯ve thought you were turning into a fade since you were a kid? You never told Bert?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and no. When it first happened, my mom¡¯s death was still fresh. My dad wasn¡¯t himself. Well, honestly, he was just getting better, and I couldn¡¯t risk sending him over the edge again.¡±

    Tony frowned. Bert seemed like a damn rock to him. He¡¯d been on the ¡°edge?¡± He supposed grief did awful things to people¡ªTony could attest¡ªbut it was still hard to imagine Bert hadn¡¯t always been a damn near perfect dad. He gave Addie an appraising look, this time from a new perspective. ¡°That must have been hard. So, before yesterday, you thought you were slowly dying?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I guess so. Last night, for the first time, I watched my hand, waiting for it to happen, and I wasn¡¯t filled with dread. I wasn¡¯t afraid of what would happen next.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re sure it¡¯s not¡­dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Not totally sure about anything, but Zane said something similar happened to him. Oh, I should have started with this: he can make himself disappear!¡±

    ¡°Okay, yeah, that was the missing piece of the story.¡± Tony chuckled. ¡°So, you¡¯re thinking you¡¯re going to be able to do that someday?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but yeah, it¡¯s a lot more fun to hope for that than to fear the¡­other thing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cool, Addie. Happy for you.¡± At his words, she looked at him again, peering up at him with those big blue eyes, and he could see she wanted to ask him something. Maybe she remembered the tension last night when she¡¯d pushed a little too hard, or maybe something in his expression backed her off, but she just shrugged and smiled, nodding toward the mouth of the alley coming up.

    ¡°Almost there. Excited to have your eye back?¡±

    Tony reached up to gently probe the bandage over his eye. ¡°Yeah, damn right.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait if you want.¡±

    ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, actually, I better get Dad¡¯s medicine back to him. I¡¯ll come back, though.¡±

    ¡°I mean, really, you don¡¯t have¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that I feel I have to. I want to get your help with something.¡±

    Tony snorted, matching her quick jog as she crossed the street to the clinic. ¡°I should¡¯ve guessed. What is it?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a funeral home I want to visit, and the neighborhood isn¡¯t the best.¡±

    ¡°Funeral home?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lead¡ªfrom Jamal.¡±

    ¡°Ah, shit! Another thing I should¡¯ve asked you about!¡±

    Addie paused outside the clinic¡¯s doors, turning to face him more fully. ¡°It¡¯s okay. We had a fun time, didn¡¯t we? You had a lot on your mind, and don¡¯t forget you had your head pounded a few times.¡± She must have thought his expression was amusing because her eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed and stepped into the clinic. Tony followed, shaking his head.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t let him hit me that hard,¡± he muttered. Addie was already at the reception desk, talking to the girl there. Tony scanned the waiting room, glad to see that only a couple of patients were waiting. He¡¯d thought maybe the clinic would be overwhelmed, considering all the partying the night before, but maybe hangovers trumped injuries. Addie walked over and nodded at the check-in terminal.

    ¡°I¡¯m signed in, thanks to JJ, but you¡¯ll need to use the terminal.¡± She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. ¡°I tried to talk Beth into letting us slip through, but I guess the folks ahead of us have legit emergencies.¡± Tony nodded and walked over to the terminal. Addie followed him, leaning against the flimsy partition while he put in his information again. ¡°So, you¡¯ll come with me after the Doc¡¯s done with you?¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Yeah, of course. Unless Bert needs something.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you learned yet?¡± she asked, leaning her chin on the top of the partition and peering at the terminal. ¡°If it¡¯s to keep me safe, my dad¡¯s going to be in favor of it.¡±

    Tony playfully held his hand on the edge of the terminal, blocking her view. ¡°Seems like you¡¯re taking advantage of Bert¡¯s concern for his offspring.¡±

    ¡°Offspring?¡± Addie laughed. ¡°You¡¯re an interesting guy, Tony Santoro.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Tony tilted the ancient crystal-glass display so she couldn¡¯t see the screen. ¡°This is private info, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Jimmy,¡± the receptionist called, ¡°Doctor Peters will see you now.¡± Tony glanced over his shoulder to see one of the two other patients stand and limp toward the door. He had a black plastic bag zip-tied around his right foot.

    ¡°Damn.¡±

    ¡°Oof,¡± Addie winced. ¡°Looks sore!¡±

    Tony finished the check-in process and looked at Addie. ¡°Why are you worried about this funeral home?¡±

    ¡°Something is going on there. Jamal saw a bunch of different gang enforcers come out of there, and, according to him, they¡¯d been meeting with a ¡®fancy¡¯ lady.¡± She frowned, tapping her chin. ¡°I think he said ¡®fancy.¡¯ It might have been ¡®fine¡¯ or¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not important, but I¡¯m just afraid maybe the people working there will be less than happy to see me, let alone answer questions. I guess I¡¯m just a little nervous about¡­disappearing. Coffins and a cremation chamber make the prospect a little easier to envision, you know?¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll watch your back.¡± He held up the package containing his eye. ¡°Hopefully with two eyes.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Tony!¡± Addie smiled and gave his shoulder a playful punch, then stood. ¡°I¡¯ll be back before you¡¯re operation¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Wait! What about your dad¡¯s meds?¡±

    Addie pulled a slender vapor pen from her pocket. Then, she held a finger to her lips and winked. ¡°Beth let me skip the line. Don¡¯t tell!¡± With a mischievous smile, she slipped out of the clinic, and Tony stood there, staring after her, trying to figure out why he felt like he¡¯d just been taken advantage of.

 1.21 Getting Connected

    21 ¨C Getting Connected

    Doc Peters opened the box and pulled away the packing foam, muttering too softly for Tony to pick up the words. He wondered about that¡ªhis ears. How badly had Chavez and his goons messed up his eardrums when they yanked his implants? He seemed to be able to hear all right, but, on the other hand, he¡¯d caught himself missing the exact words someone said a few times in recent conversations.

    He tried to dismiss the disquieting thought, pushing it away where the rest of his idle, anxious concerns were buried. It didn¡¯t matter at this point; when he could afford new ears, he¡¯d get new ears¡ªthe current state of his eardrums was irrelevant. Peters saved him from further mental debate by walking over, his new eye implant in the palm of his hand.

    The guy looked exhausted. He had huge circles under his eyes, his five o¡¯clock shadow was a few hours past five o¡¯clock, and his smock was well-stained with blood and probably other fluids. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly and a little strained. ¡°I found the specs on the city net, which means I should be able to plug everything into the autosurgeon to shape your orbital bone. That¡¯ll cut down your install cost.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but the thing is, when this implant was new, it came with a grafting kit¡ªsynth nerves and synthetic stem cells¡ªthat kind of thing. I¡¯ve got plenty of synth stem cells, but synth nerves are a little pricey. I¡¯ll have to charge you fifty bits on top of my usual autosurgeon install rate.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°One twenty.¡±

    Tony winced and shrugged. ¡°So a hundred-seventy to get this thing installed? If this were the good old days, I¡¯d tip you twice that amount, but things being what they are, I¡¯ll just grin and bear it.¡±

    Peters didn¡¯t laugh at his attempt at humor. ¡°You still want to talk about a data port?¡±

    Running the numbers through his head, Tony figured he still had almost a thousand bits thanks to his little scam with Maisie¡¯s uncle. He nodded. ¡°Yeah, what you got for the, uh, budget-minded connoisseur?¡±

    ¡°Well, since you don¡¯t seem to mind gently used tech,¡± he held up the eye implant, ¡°I¡¯ve got a United MegaSpark model I could show you. Guy who had it was a machinist for Boxer. He died last week in a factory accident, and his daughter brought it in with a few other pieces, trying to raise money for a private cremation.¡±

    Tony couldn¡¯t ignore the unsettling, offhand detail, so he had to ask, ¡°She didn¡¯t want the company to cremate him?¡±

    ¡°No. Folks who die on the job or in their arcology are, um, bulk cremated. Surviving family members get a scoop of the ashes, but they¡¯re all mixed up, so¡­¡± He shrugged, letting the thought trail off.

    ¡°That¡¯s grim.¡± Tony shook his head. ¡°Tell me about it. The data port, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a decent model. Utilitarian, but with some modernish features. It has a hex-core slot for a PAI chip and two memory slots. Decent wireless capabilities. It¡¯s designed for a cervical placement, so I can put it right where it looks like they pulled your old one.¡±

    Tony unconsciously reached back to prod the still-tender flesh where his old data port had been. ¡°But how much, doc?¡±

    ¡°Seeing as it¡¯s second-hand with no warranty, I¡¯ll put it in for another four hundred.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve got a PAI lying around? Something almost free?¡±

    Peters smiled, but it was half-hearted. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. ¡°Nope, sorry, buddy. I don¡¯t even have any new ones in stock. I could order you something, but no, people aren¡¯t generally coming to my clinic for PAIs.¡±

    Tony sighed and rubbed his temples between his thumb and middle finger. ¡°Well, my old PAI cost me upwards of seventy grand. I really don¡¯t know what cheaper models go for these days. Can you give me a ballpark?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure. Gimme a sec.¡± Peters stared into space for a minute, his eyelids flickering unnaturally as he likely skimmed through menus on his AUI. Tony shifted in the comfortable, if well-worn, seat of the autosurgeon, glancing at the mechanical surgical arms sprouting from the hub to his right. He hardly remembered being in that seat before, but he was pretty sure it was the same autosurgeon that had fixed up his arm.

    He let his gaze drift around the little operating suite, at the stainless tables, the damp, antiseptic-scented concrete floor, and the medical waste and laundry bins. Peters was a busy, overworked man and probably had better things to do than help Tony shop for bargain implants. Still, if he took a sales percentage, every little bit helped, right? ¡°If it¡¯s any trouble¡ª¡± he started to say, but Peters shook his head, forestalling his objection.

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s no trouble. I get wholesale discounts and charge a small percentage for ordering and installation. If you¡¯re good with that, I won¡¯t complain. The bit of profit will help me take care of someone who can¡¯t afford critical medical treatment.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I figured it was something like that.¡±

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see here. I mean, shit, they have juvenile models for five hundred bits. You probably don¡¯t want a cartoon character living in your head, though, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Probably not¡­¡±

    ¡°Some really low-end models for around a thousand. They won¡¯t interface well with your optics, though, and if you ever get auditory implants¡ª¡±

    ¡°I need something that can interface with Dust-tech nanites.¡±

    Doc Peters opened his eyes wide and whistled softly. ¡°I hadn¡¯t realized. Your recovery rate makes a little more sense now.¡±

    ¡°Keep it between us, doc. I¡¯d rather not get chopped up for parts anymore, you know?¡±

    ¡°Of course! Tony, I don¡¯t keep records on my patients. I mean, other than your payment and contact information. I¡¯ve got too many banger clients who would skin me alive if Boxer corpo-sec could come in here and get details on their hardware and, um, medicinal proclivities. Anway¡­ Dust-tech. Hmm¡­ Yeah, the cheapest model with that sort of capability is a Cameo 870, and it clocks in at forty-two hundred.¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°Yeah, I figured a decent PAI was a little out of reach. I¡¯ll save up. Let¡¯s do the data port and eye, okay, Doc?¡± Tony settled back into the cushions, getting himself comfortable. Part of him wanted to feel irritated, upset that he was still so far from getting back to where he¡¯d been, but another part, a side of himself that he hadn¡¯t seen in a long, long time, was enjoying the ride.

    The truth was that he was having fun working up from the bottom again. He¡¯d done it before; why couldn¡¯t he do it again? He had plenty going for him, didn¡¯t he? He knew a hell of a lot more about fighting, about corpo politics, about tech and guns. Sure, he didn¡¯t have Eric at his side this time, but he was making new contacts and new friends. He wasn¡¯t a teen with big starry-eyed dreams, either. He wouldn¡¯t get suckered into long-term contracts and find himself buried in debts that didn¡¯t fit neatly on a balance sheet. He wouldn¡¯t get himself trapped by loyalties and obligations that made him feel like a slave.

    He got so caught up trying to talk himself up, comparing his current situation to how things had been when he¡¯d been a teenager trying to make it as an operator, that he missed most of the doctor¡¯s boilerplate indemnification spiel as he prepped him for surgery, unpeeling his bandages and securing him to the autosurgeon chair.

    As the straps tightened on his wrists, paranoid notions streamed through his mind, and Tony tugged at them, finding their unmoving resilience unsettling. ¡°Don¡¯t really remember you strapping me down before, Doc.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, I did. You were out of it, my friend¡ªthat stim Bert gave you plus whatever was left over in your system from when you got stripped. Heck, I probably didn¡¯t do your memory any favors when I put you under to work on that arm. Point is, I¡¯m surprised you remember that day at all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but why do you need to tie me down now, Doc?¡± Tony narrowed his eye at Peters as the man gently smeared cold gel around his eye socket.

    ¡°Because if you start to freak out and move too much, it¡¯ll mess up the procedure. You wouldn¡¯t be the first patient I¡¯ve had who was cool as a cucumber until the lasers started cutting and the smell of charred bone wafted into the air.¡±

    Tony swallowed and grumbled, ¡°You paint a lovely picture.¡±

    ¡°Just hang on, Tony. This¡¯ll all be over in about twenty minutes.¡± The doctor moved behind the chair and began fidgeting with something at the back of the autosurgeon chair. A moment later, Tony felt cold, rubbery clamps click into place around his skull, stretching his neck taut and holding his head immobile. ¡°Perfect,¡± Peters said, swabbing something at the base of Tony¡¯s neck. ¡°We can do both installs simultaneously. I won¡¯t knock you out for this, but we¡¯ll do a nerve block. You won¡¯t feel a thing.¡±

    Tony watched as the doctor prepped the ocular implant and the data port, sterilizing them and setting them on the autosurgeon¡¯s stainless tray. Then, he walked over to the terminal and stared at the display while he ostensibly interfaced with it, programming the specifications for the installations. After a few minutes, Peters looked into Tony¡¯s eye and, deadpan, asked, ¡°Any last requests?¡±

    ***

    Addie sat in the clinic''s waiting room, staring at the door behind Beth, irritated that she hadn¡¯t been allowed back. Beth said Tony wouldn¡¯t need a recovery room and that he¡¯d be out when Peters finished with him, so there wasn¡¯t any point in her going back. Still, Addie hated it when she felt like she was being denied ¡°access¡± of any kind, so she was feeling antsy and irritated. Every time the door opened for someone else to leave or for one of the doc¡¯s assistants to call another patient back, she jumped to her feet in anticipation, only to sit down again, further agitated.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    She¡¯d only been waiting half an hour, but she¡¯d taken longer than that to bring her dad his meds and pick up Humpty. Shouldn¡¯t he be done? Addie knew Peters; he wouldn¡¯t let her sit out there like a dummy if something went wrong, so she told herself to relax and contented herself with reading through the comments on her latest vid.

    If she were honest, she¡¯d admit she¡¯d put up a ¡°fluff¡± piece about Boxer Day. She felt like a sellout, publishing positive news about something a corporation was doing, but she supposed if people didn¡¯t praise them for doing the right thing on those very rare occasions, then they¡¯d be less likely to repeat the behavior¡ªpositive reinforcement and all that.

    It wasn¡¯t any surprise that the most viewed timestamp on the video was the one featuring Tony¡¯s fighting. Even though everyone in the district could probably find footage of the fights from a thousand different viewpoints, Addie had gone the extra mile and used the German Shepherd filter on Tony. People loved it.

    She was smiling, reading a comment about how ¡°Shepherd¡± was just the kind of guy the district needed more of when the door opened, and she looked up to see Tony strolling through, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders in a perpetual shrug. His new ¡°eye¡± was chrome-chic¡ªmetal merged with flesh as only modern cybernetics could do. Still, it was an eye, and the restored symmetry of his face did wonders for his looks. Tony was a handsome man, even with a metal eye and a glowing, red-orange iris.

    Addie tried not to look too eager when she stood, but she knew she was beaming because Tony smiled almost compulsively when he saw her waiting. When he got close enough, Addie winked her right eye exaggeratedly. ¡°Looks good, Tony. How¡¯s it feel to have your vision back?¡±

    He reached up with his left hand, gently probing around the eye socket with his natural fingers. ¡°It¡¯s a little sore, but everything works perfectly. Luckily, the doc was able to program it to match the resolution settings of my other eye, so yeah, everything looks good. Colors are a little mismatched, but I hardly notice when both eyes are open.¡±

    ¡°Will a new PAI help with that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure I can fine-tune things once I have a little helper. Speaking of which, I got a new data port.¡± Tony turned so Addie could see the tiny rectangle of metal at the nape of his neck. ¡°Doc says I can buy a synth-flesh cover for it if I want, but it¡¯s not a priority.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I mean, with an arm and an eye like this, who cares about a little data port, am I right?¡±

    Addie punched his shoulder playfully. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know. I think the eye looks good. I don¡¯t want you to get a big head, but you¡¯ve got the looks to pull it off.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tony grinned hugely. ¡°Damn, you¡¯re full of compliments these days. Well, just so you know, you¡¯re no slouch yourself.¡±

    Addie choked off a giggle, irritated that his offhanded compliment had tickled her so much. She turned and walked to the door. ¡°Come on! Remember, I¡¯ve hired you for the afternoon.¡±

    ¡°Right. Funeral home time.¡± He followed her out. ¡°Got Humpty in that pack?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°Bert feeling better?¡±

    Addie looked at him sideways, trying to figure out if he was playing an angle. Why was he always so cool? He didn¡¯t seem disingenuous, though; he really was interested in Bert, even after undergoing surgery. ¡°He¡¯s better, yeah. I wish he¡¯d just swallow his pride and buy the meds sooner next time.¡±

    Tony shrugged¡ªeasy for him as he was halfway there with his hands in his pockets. ¡°Eh, I get where he¡¯s coming from. He wants to handle the problem himself rather than admitting it¡¯s outside his control. He probably figures, you know, his diet or whatever caused the issue, and he can fix things, but then, by the time he realizes it''s gotten past that point, he¡¯s laid up and in pain. How often does he get flare-ups like that?¡±

    ¡°Just a few times a year.¡± Addie turned the corner and moved closer to the buildings to avoid a large group of teenagers laughing and carrying on just past the corner. Tony didn¡¯t reply, and Addie saw he was watching the teens. Some wore gang colors¡ªHelldogs, of course¡ªbut she knew they were just pledges trying to earn their full membership. Even so, they warranted watching; wearing gang colors in the Blast took a conscious acknowledgment of risk. Helldogs had plenty of enemies; even if a pledge stayed on their home turf, they were declaring themselves part of the constant war.

    ¡°You got a problem, old guy?¡± one of the youngsters called out, eliciting hoots and sniggers from the others.

    Tony didn¡¯t react. He just moved a little closer to Addie and kept walking. They¡¯d gone a few more steps when a bottle hit the sidewalk nearby, shattering. Addie flinched, but Tony just started whistling some nameless little ditty. Addie glanced at him, and he winked¡ªa much more natural-looking wink than he¡¯d been able to pull off with one eye covered with bandages. His grin was crooked as he whistled thinly through his teeth, cocking his head half to the side.

    Addie wasn¡¯t sure if he was getting ready to say something or to react to the teenage bangers, but then he snaked out his right hand faster than her eye could follow and caught another bottle that tumbled through the air toward them. Without slowing, he turned and tossed the bottle toward the kids. ¡°Dropped this.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± one of the kids howled. ¡°That¡¯s him! That¡¯s Shepherd!¡±

    Tony turned again, walking backward, and bowed, and Addie couldn¡¯t help laughing at his cockiness. ¡°Stop it!¡± She pulled on his jacket sleeve until he turned and started walking by her side again. She was half afraid some of the kids would want to fight him and half afraid they¡¯d chase after to ask questions. When they got to the corner and made a left, though, none followed.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re getting famous,¡± Tony remarked.

    ¡°Well, maybe, but you¡¯ve probably already got a few people who¡¯d like to pound your brains in, so maybe don¡¯t ham it up so much.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tony affected a scandalized tone, holding his fingers to his chest. ¡°You think someone might want to hurt me?¡±

    Addie sighed, shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯re too much.¡±

    He stuffed his hands back into his pockets and commenced strolling quietly beside her. After a while, he said, ¡°I¡¯m just in a good mood.¡±

    Addie looked at him, saw he was looking at her, and smiled, suddenly self-conscious¡ªwhy hadn¡¯t she done something more with her hair? Was her eyeliner too obvious? ¡°Why¡¯s that? Your new eye?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Nah, I just, well, when I came out of surgery, it was pretty great having you there waiting for me. Even in my old life, if I got a procedure done, I had to pay someone to watch my back.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? No friends?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that should¡¯ve been my first clue that a betrayal was coming. Honestly, there were probably a thousand clues. Anyway, thanks again.¡±

    ¡°Pfft!¡± Addie waved a hand dismissively. ¡°I was only there ¡¯cause I wanted your help this afternoon.¡±

    Tony elbowed her shoulder, sending her stumbling to the left. ¡°Liar.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Addie laughed and pushed him back. ¡°Okay, maybe I wanted to be there a little. So, did you get a new PAI, too?¡±

    ¡°Nah, couldn¡¯t afford one yet. I¡¯ll work on it.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re still offline. Couldn¡¯t you get a cheap messaging chip, at least?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I guess. Didn¡¯t think of it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna pass a store. Wanna stop in? Janet¡¯s Data.¡±

    ¡°She sells chips?¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°All sorts of stuff.¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t have audio implants anymore, though. I guess I could just do text¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, jeez, come on, Tony! Every twelve-year-old has a nano-link. You don¡¯t have to buy the fanciest implants around.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Shit, I guess you¡¯ve got a point. I kind of get stuck in my head about these things, you know? I¡¯ve had cybernetics for so long that I don¡¯t even think about the cheaper tech. This shop sells that stuff?¡±

    ¡°Yep!¡± Addie smiled and grabbed his wrist, tugging him along, excited to suddenly be doing something for him. She liked that he didn¡¯t resist her pull. He stretched his legs, easily keeping up as she dragged him along the sidewalk to the little hole-in-the-wall data and electronics shop. Inside, she beelined for the back wall where all sorts of cheap, mostly disposable nano- and micro-tech devices hung on the wall under the watchful eye of a panning security cam. She pointed to a package on the third row with bright purple labeling.

    Tony pulled it off the peg. ¡°Seriously? ¡®Giga-ears?¡¯¡±

    Addie shrugged. ¡°I had a pair of the previous model, and they lasted almost two years. Not as good as my new audio implants, but they did the job for a while. Honestly, I think they produced better bass.¡±

    Tony turned the package over. ¡°Twenty-five bits? What the hell? They¡¯ll interface with a PAI or comm chip?¡±

    ¡°Does your data port have wireless?¡±

    Tony nodded. ¡°According to the doc.¡±

    ¡°Then yeah, come here.¡± Addie walked down the wall, scanning the products until she found the one she was looking for. It was a comms chip that would allow Tony to make calls, send messages, and even browse the local net, so long as his optics were up to the job, and she was pretty sure they were. She pulled it off the rack and handed it to him.

    ¡°Ah, what have we here? ¡®Banana Chat?¡¯ I feel kind of¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re marketed at teens,¡± a new voice said, and Addie turned to see Janet Devere approaching. She wore red overalls, a white t-shirt, and enormous black-rimmed glasses. She¡¯d always been a character, but she was nice.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Tony turned to regard her. ¡°I guess I just need it until I can afford a PAI.¡± He turned the yellow box until he looked at the price tag on the bottom. ¡°Fifty-nine? And it¡¯ll connect to these, uh, Giga-ears?¡±

    Janet nodded. ¡°Plug and play, buddy. Personally, I only use comm chips like that; I refuse to have another entity in my head.¡±

    ¡°A PAI isn¡¯t exactly in your head, Janet,¡± Addie sighed.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly where it goes, Addie! You¡¯ve seen the synth nerves they slide into you with those things. How do you think you can talk to your little buddy without moving your lips? It¡¯s in your mind!¡±

    ¡°Right, well, I¡¯ll take these.¡± Tony held up the two packages.

    Addie held out her hand. ¡°Let me open ¡®em for you while you pay.¡±

    Tony handed them over and dug around in his pocket for his bit-locker. ¡°You got a terminal?¡±

    Janet¡¯s thick, burgundy-stained lips spread into a big smile, exposing her too-small teeth. ¡°I appreciate a man who keeps his bits offline. Step over to the counter. You can sit down so Addie can install that chip more easily, Stretch.¡±

    Tony looked at Addie and mouthed, ¡°Stretch,¡± grinning, but he followed Janet over to the counter and sat on a stool while she took his bit-locker to extract her payment. Addie opened the Giga-ears first. The packaging was deceptive; there weren¡¯t two bell-shaped devices in the package, but two plastic, thimble-sized squeeze bottles. One was marked R and the other L.

    ¡°I just need to squirt these into your ears, Tony.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡±

    Janet nodded, handing Tony his bit-locker. ¡°Yeah. The nanomaterials will bond with your eardrum and use your body¡¯s ambient electrical signal to connect to the data port. Just tilt your head and wait until you hear the beep before you do the other ear.¡±

    Addie held the little ¡°L¡± bottle ready, and Tony shrugged, leaning forward onto the counter so Addie could reach his ear more easily. When she squeezed the silvery liquid into his ear, he winced. ¡°Cold!¡±

    ¡°Hold still,¡± Addie said, then unpacked the other bottle. She rolled it between her palms while she waited. ¡°I¡¯ll warm this one up a little.¡±

    Tony smiled, and then, only a few seconds later, he announced, ¡°I heard the beep!¡±

    ¡°Okay, turn your head.¡± As he did so, Addie leaned over him and gently squeezed the second bottle into his ear.

    ¡°Ah! Much better. Thanks, Ads.¡±

    Addie smiled, idiotically pleased by his use of the nickname again, even though she hated it when Beef called her that. As he waited for the second chime, she unpacked the comm chip. It was shaped like a PAI chip and would slot neatly into his data port. Unlike a full-fledged PAI, which bristled with thousands of synth-nerves designed to integrate deeply with the brain''s pathways, the comm chip had just a few. The delicate fibers would extend into his nerve channel, forming a basic connection with his optic nerves to relay data.

    ¡°Just keep your head still, and I¡¯ll slot this in, okay? Look¡ª¡± She dangled the glistening, foam-covered nerve fibers in front of his face. ¡°¡ªthe nerves are sterile.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, all right.¡± He closed his eyes, and Addie took that as him signaling he was ready. She dangled the synth nerves over the slot and on the metallic rectangle at the nape of his neck, and when they picked up the signal the port was emanating, they began to twitch and worm their way into it. She brought the chip closer and closer to the port as they sank in. When all the fibers were absorbed, she snapped the chip into place.

    ¡°Perfect fit!¡±

    Tony didn¡¯t say anything or move for several seconds, and then JJ announced, ¡°Addie, you have a new comm request from someone named Tony.¡±

    Addie felt a flutter of idiotic excitement and breathlessly said, ¡°Accept.¡±

    A moment later, a grainy window appeared on her AUI, and a single line appeared:

    Tony: Hey.

 1.22 Clues and Conflict

    22 ¨C Clues and Conflict

    Addie pointed to the building across the street. It was a squat, two-story made of extruded cement with windows guarded by old wrought-iron bars cast in the shapes of flowers and vines. The glass was cloudy and opaque, filthy with grime on the outside, and curtained off on the inside.

    She wondered what people considered when they chose a funeral home or if they chose at all; maybe it was just a matter of circumstance. So-and-so knew someone who came here, so they suggested it, and then, because it was close by and reasonably priced, a filthy little hole in the wall like Pulliam¡¯s Funeral Home could stay in business.

    ¡°Not very inviting,¡± Tony observed.

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± Addie unzipped her bag and lifted Humpty out.

    ¡°Vid time?¡± Tony watched her activate the drone, sending it hovering near-silently into the air behind them.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Addie flicked her concentration to the drone, ensuring the feeds were all coming through fine.

    ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Interfacing directly with Dust-tech? Like, could you operate my nanites if you had them?¡±

    Addie frowned at him. ¡°You can¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Nah. I have to wait until I get a PAI capable of interfacing with them. Right now, they just run on automatic¡ªdefault settings.¡±

    Addie zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulders, contemplating her response. It was strange to think she¡¯d made it to her age and never quite realized how unusual her connection to Humpty was. She supposed part of that was due to her dad¡¯s sheltering. He always had an excuse, and she was always quick to accept, especially after she¡¯d come to believe she was ¡°fading.¡± Dust hadn¡¯t exactly been a topic she¡¯d been eager to discuss with the few people she felt close enough to broach anything beyond a surface-level conversation. ¡°It¡¯s like my senses expand when I reach out to it, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Like your hearing and vision?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but¡­different. It¡¯s almost like I can feel the Dust in me, and then I just follow it to the drone, and when it activates, my perception expands.¡±

    Tony rubbed his chin, shaking his head slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. So you can see with your eyes and the drone at the same time?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. Well, I mean, yeah, but it¡¯s more like peripheral vision unless I focus on it, and then my eyes become more like peripheral vision. I guess it is kind of weird, isn¡¯t it?¡± Addie chuckled and started across the street in the wake of a Boxer cargo van.

    ¡°It¡¯s not weird, it¡¯s badass.¡± As they mounted the sidewalk, he surreptitiously jerked his thumb toward the corner. ¡°Those guys gonna be any trouble?¡±

    Addie glanced where he pointed, then quickly looked away, hurrying toward the funeral home door. She recognized the colors but not the bangers. ¡°Cold Boys.¡±

    Tony frowned. ¡°Malik¡¯s crew?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Maybe don¡¯t stare at them.¡± As Addie pulled the heavy, wrought-iron outer door, a little vid screen set into the door flickered to life, and an AI avatar wearing an old-fashioned suit appeared.

    ¡°Hello. Do you require funerary services?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to speak to the director.¡±

    ¡°Excellent, and do you have an appointment?¡±

    Addie was aware of Tony shifting closer, so the open metal door was between him and the corner. She flicked her attention to her drone and scanned the street to see what was bothering him. Sure enough, the Cold Boys on the corner were staring their way, and one of them was speaking animatedly, gesticulating with his fists. She focused on the AI in the vid screen. ¡°Can we please come in? I have important business for Mr. Pulliam.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid our director isn¡¯t taking visitors at the moment. Perhaps I could interest you in a virtual tour of our services?¡±

    Tony cleared his throat and leaned close. ¡°Well, Addie, let¡¯s try that other funeral home. I heard they have better caskets anyway.¡±

    The image zoomed in on the AI¡¯s face, and it spoke smoothly and with slightly increased volume, ¡°Now, please don¡¯t be hasty. Are you interested in upscale caskets, then? I have a wonderful model you could look at, and Mr. Templeton, our day manager, will be happy to walk you through the options.¡± The door clicked as the lock was disengaged, and Addie pulled it open, slipping inside. Tony was hot on her heels.

    The front parlor of the funeral home smelled like old carpeting, mothballs, and cheap wax candles. The lights were dim, the d¨¦cor heavy on reds and grays, and, as they entered, a wall panel vid screen flickered to life, and the AI in the suit appeared, seeming to be standing before them with his hands folded respectfully. ¡°Welcome to Pulliam¡¯s Funeral Parlor. I¡¯ve alerted Mr. Templeton to your presence, and he¡¯ll be with you shortly. In the meantime, would you like me to review our basic services and upgrades? Might I inquire as to the nature of your loss? Will it be a loved one that we¡¯ll be putting to rest?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll wait for Mr. Templeton,¡± Addie replied, walking in a slow circle, taking in the stuffy d¨¦cor. Tony stood in front of the door, one hand resting on the gray-painted plasteel. Addie hadn¡¯t heard it lock, but she assumed it had. The bangers wouldn¡¯t follow them into the parlor anyway, would they? She didn¡¯t think so. A text message appeared on her AUI:

    Tony: It¡¯s locked.

    Addie smiled at him and mouthed, ¡°Good.¡± She turned back to the wall display, noting the AI model had turned and was making himself busy shuffling some papers on a virtual desk. She wondered why he didn¡¯t simply make himself disappear when he learned a client wasn¡¯t interested in dealing with him, but she supposed it was merely a matter of customer service; he was there if a question came up.

    While she waited for the ¡°day manager,¡± Addie ran through the questions in her mind, wondering if she should be doing mouth or vocal exercises like the reporters in her favorite serials did. The thought of it was too embarrassing, though, especially with Tony hovering nearby.

    After a few minutes, she heard activity from the room or hallway behind the far door, and, with a clatter of locks being undone, the door opened, and a small man in an ill-fitting brown suit came through. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, and though he had a full head of hair, it wasn¡¯t exactly attractively styled¡ªslicked back with something decidedly oily. He cleared his throat and approached, at first directing his attention at Tony, who pointedly ignored him, shifting to stand behind Addie, staring at the curtained front windows.

    Addie stepped forward and held out her hand. ¡°Hello there. Mr. Templeton, I presume?¡±

    ¡°Um, yes, hello. Pardon my tardy arrival; I was working with another¡­client. Now¡ª¡± He glanced at the AI avatar, still quietly shuffling file folders at his virtual desk. ¡°¡ªMy assistant says you need our services. Might I have your name, Miss¡­¡±

    ¡°Jones. Adelaide Jones, sir.¡±

    Templeton¡¯s eyes unfocused momentarily, and he nodded, clearing his throat. ¡°Daughter of Albert Jones? Boxer hasn¡¯t listed him as deceased. Did something happen last¡ª¡±

    Addie¡¯s eyes widened in horror. His casual assumption that she was there to arrange for her father¡¯s cremation caught her by surprise, and she felt a lump of emotion thicken her vocal cords as she stammered, ¡°N-no, sir, I¡¯m not here about my father.¡±

    ¡°Ah, a friend then? It¡¯s a tragic world out there in the district, isn¡¯t it, dear?¡±

    Addie shook her head and cleared her throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. ¡°Sir, I¡¯m here as an independent journalist. I have some pressing questions for you, questions the public deserves to have answered.¡± Almost subconsciously, she panned Humpty in a slow circle, zooming in on Templeton¡¯s face. He noticed the silent little drone for the first time, and his eyebrows shot up over his ancient-looking horn-rimmed glasses.

    ¡°What¡¯s this? You¡¯re a news crew?¡± Almost comically, he turned and glared at the AI avatar, silently shuffling his files. ¡°I was led to believe you were here to make a purchase.¡±

    The AI spoke up, though it didn¡¯t make eye contact with anyone, ¡°They mentioned an interest in premium caskets, sir.¡±

    ¡°Sir, I wonder if you could address the rumors about gangs having meetings here in your facility. My sources have confirmed that they¡¯re coordinating their strong-arm tactics at the Royal Breeze Apartments from your parlor. Why would that be? What does a local funeral parlor with deep roots in the community have to do with people being terrorized at Royal Breeze?¡±

    ¡°First of all, this isn¡¯t my parlor, and I can assure you that I have nothing to do with any of that!¡±

    ¡°Well, then, I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t mind providing some clarity. I have it on good authority that four different gang enforcers were meeting here with a corporate representative.¡±

    ¡°That may be, but it wasn¡¯t our corporate rep! This is a family-owned business! Even so, we¡¯re beholden to Boxer just like any other local business. Eighty percent of our business comes to us through their corporate office!¡± He stepped back, glaring nervously at Humpty, then waved toward the door. ¡°Please leave. I¡¯m not looking for any trouble.¡±

    ¡°Why would a Boxer corporate rep be meeting gang enforcers in your parlor, Mr. Templeton?¡± Addie was excited; she hadn¡¯t expected to get such a rise out of the man, not so quickly. She glanced at Tony, but he looked utterly tuned out, leaning against the door with his arms folded, his chrome eye flickering with soft amber LEDs in the dim light.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was Boxer! I didn¡¯t say there were gang enforcers here! You¡¯re putting words in my mouth!¡±

    ¡°Well, the rumors around the district are even worse, sir.¡± Addie¡¯s imagination had been working overtime about what could be going on at the funeral home, and she didn¡¯t mind sharing some of her theories as if they were rumors. ¡°Everything from illicit organ sales to gangs offloading victims here so boxer could purchase their body parts for research!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s preposterous and utterly baseless!¡± Templeton sputtered, taking a step toward her, his face flushed. Addie didn¡¯t react, but his eyes flicked toward something over her shoulder, and he visibly calmed, taking a step back. Was it Tony? Addie flicked her attention to her drone so she could see Tony without him knowing, but he seemed exactly the same as the last time she¡¯d looked¡ªleaning back against the door, arms folded, an utterly bored expression on his face. Humpty would have the footage, though. She¡¯d check it out when she got home.

    ¡°Well, the people deserve an explanation. What¡¯s going on here, Mr. Templeton?¡±

    ¡°Nothing out of the ordinary! Mr. Pulliam made a simple report, and since then, Boxer has been making regular visits to inspect our operations. It¡¯s nothing to worry about. I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re working with the so-called local enforcers, but I imagine it has to do with providing security for their personnel. We¡¯ve had a few higher-profile visitors than usual¡ªin addition to our Boxer rep, that is.¡±

    ¡°What was the report regarding?¡± Addie stepped closer as she spoke, her voice hushed as she tried to subconsciously convey to Templeton that his words might be off the record, even though they most definitely weren''t.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing¡ªas a funeral home, part of our service is to remove Dust reactors from our clients and process them. As you know, the Dust in District Seventeen is less than pure. Well, Mr. Pulliam noted some anomalies in the Dust he was collecting and reported it to Boxer just as he was supposed to. That¡¯s the end of the mystery. Case closed! Now please leave.¡±

    ¡°What kind of anomalies?¡± Tony asked, startling Addie with his sudden proximity. He was right behind her.

    Templeton took another step back and visibly gulped before replying, ¡°District Seventeen Dust has a persistent average of 1.734 on the Luminal Index. Mr. Pulliam noted that a few of the Dust reactors he pulled from clients¡ªall from the same neighborhood¡ªhad an average purity nearly a full point higher than that. Of course, the numbers could be meaningless¡ªmaybe they purchased more purified Dust and added it to their reactors. I mean, you should know,¡± he gestured to Addie¡¯s drone, ¡°sometimes a little splurge on higher-quality Dust pays off, especially if it¡¯s for a work-related expense.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Royal Breeze?¡± Addie asked, stepping closer, almost like she was chasing Templeton as he retreated.

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Again, he gestured to the door. ¡°Now, please leave. I don¡¯t want any trouble, and you¡¯re already treading on Boxer¡¯s business enough as it is. I won¡¯t be party to it!¡± He tapped his temple. ¡°I¡¯m serious! I¡¯m already placing a call to Boxer corpo-sec! We pay our taxes, and I won¡¯t have Pulliam¡¯s good name dragged through the mud!¡±

    Addie looked over her shoulder at Tony, and, to her consternation, he was once again leaning against the door jam, looking bored. ¡°C¡¯mon, Tony,¡± she sighed, reaching for the handle. He shifted out of her way, allowing her to pull the door open, and then he took its weight, reaching above her head to pull the heavy plasteel door wide while she pushed the wrought-iron security door open. She glanced left and right, glad not to see any bangers lying in wait, then stepped out into the noise of the district.

    Tony let the door slam shut behind them and shrugged. ¡°That was kind of interesting.¡±

    Addie snorted. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t seem interested.¡±

    He stuffed his hands in his pockets and inhaled deeply through his nose, shrugging. ¡°Well, I was. He¡¯s full of shit, by the way, if you hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I noticed,¡± Addie lied. ¡°For the record, what do you think he¡¯s full of shit about?¡± A break in traffic prompted her to cross the street, and Tony followed.

    ¡°The Dust levels. If it were something that could be explained away by a person here or there buying some higher quality Dust, then Boxer wouldn¡¯t be down here investigating.¡±

    Addie nodded. He was right, and she supposed she would¡¯ve drawn the same conclusion if she¡¯d had a minute to think about things. ¡°It must be more widespread than a case here and there. I bet it''s everyone from Royal Breeze!¡±

    ¡°What would cause that, though?¡±

    Addie smiled and nudged his ribs with her elbow as she turned down an alley¡ªa shortcut toward more familiar neighborhoods. ¡°That¡¯s the million-bit question. We need to talk to a Dust expert.¡±

    ¡°You know one?¡± Tony took his hand out of his pocket long enough to lift the sunglasses from the V of his track jacket¡¯s zipper, deftly putting them on.

    Addie softly snickered. ¡°I¡¯m quite sure your new eye compensates for brightness.¡±

    ¡°Got something against style?¡± This time, it was his turn to nudge her with his elbow. ¡°Anyway¡ªDust expert?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a non-profit based out of the NGT tower. They monitor the rads and other, um, ¡®Blast effects.¡¯ Maybe we could go talk to them.¡± Addie glanced at her AUI, checking the time. ¡°Tomorrow, I guess. We don¡¯t want to get caught down there after dark.¡±

    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°Well, not in the tower, but the streets aren¡¯t exactly friendly.¡±

    ¡°Even to a hotshot reporter and Shepherd?¡± Tony waggled his eyebrows, and Addie found her eyes drawn to a scar that crossed through the edge of his right eyebrow; it wasn¡¯t new, but his bandages had hidden it from her notice before.

    She reached up and touched her own eyebrow, indicating the scar''s location. ¡°How¡¯d you get that one? It looks older than your others.¡±

    Tony smiled and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve got a million of ¡¯em. Probably got that one when I got the snot kicked out of me when I was a teen.¡±

    ¡°That happen often?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± He smiled crookedly. ¡°Part of growing up, isn¡¯t it? Learning to take a beating?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get down!¡± Tony shoved Addie toward the rear door of a Vietnamese restaurant, sending her sprawling as she crashed into a pile of crates. Her palms and knees scraped the pavement, and all she could think was what an absolute asshole he was to shove her like that. She couldn¡¯t wrap her head around it. At the same time, the unmistakable roar of gunshots rang out in the alley, and Tony dove to the ground, sliding and rolling across the alley until he sidled up behind an overfull dumpster.

    Addie yelped, her senses overstimulated¡ªshould she cuss at the rough treatment? Should she wince and blow on the scrapes on her palms, or should she get up and run? She hadn¡¯t been shot at before, not directly.

    The guns roared again, and it seemed like they were targeting Tony¡ªthe dumpster pinged and clanged, echoing with the impacts of hot lead and polymer rounds. Addie scrambled closer to the restaurant door, eyes wide, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Were bangers shooting at them? Chasing, threatening, even beating up¡ªthat was understandable. Shooting, though?

    Tony cursed and slid lower, wedging himself into the space between the dumpster and the brick wall behind it. When Addie looked his way and their eyes locked, he grunted, ¡°Drone.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Addie asked, wincing and ducking down as more gunshots rang out.

    ¡°Your drone! Fly it in their faces or something!¡±

    Addie¡¯s eyes flew wide as she recalled Humpty was still hovering overhead. She flicked her attention to the drone and zoomed him higher, scanning the alley. She saw three bangers, two with guns, the third hanging back, gripping a shock baton as his two buddies continued to take turns lobbing bullets at Tony. What could she do with Humpty? He didn¡¯t have any weapons. He didn¡¯t even have any mechanized arms or¡ªAddie shook her head. What did Tony say? Fly it in their faces? Would that be enough?

    ¡°Do it!¡± Tony hissed as more bullets clanged into the dumpster. Addie winced, and then she did what she was so uncannily good at: she piloted her drone like no one else could. Humpty streaked down and forward, aiming for the closest banger, a wiry man oddly wearing motorcycle goggles and wielding a black rifle with one of those attachment things that made it look like it belonged firmly in the ¡°assault rifle¡± category. Addie ignored the gun and sent Humpty zipping straight toward his face.

    He balked, jerking back behind the trashcan he was hunkered behind, and raised his rifle, trying to track the drone. Addie was too deft with her flying, though, moving Humpty in an S pattern as she rapidly brought the drone around toward his face again, then veered off at the last second, steering him toward the second gunman. Both shooters tried to track the drone, but Addie shot him straight up and then spiraled him downward, really pushing his little anti-grav motor as she gave the two shooters a near-impossible target to acquire.

    She was so focused on distracting the bangers that she almost missed it when Tony stood, gripped the side of the dumpster, and vaulted over it. When his feet hit the pavement, he snatched up an old piece of fencing¡ªa broken-off metal post¡ªand darted forward, leaping an overturned shopping cart and bringing the make-shift cudgel against the side of the first shooter¡¯s skull, the one with the ¡°assault¡± rifle.

    Addie almost lost her connection to Humpty when she heard the man¡¯s skull crunch. It was such a disturbing, violent sound that her stomach roiled, and bile rose in the back of her throat. Humpty stalled in the air as she lost her focus, but it didn¡¯t matter; Tony was nothing if not efficient. The metal pipe came up and then down again with a sickening ping as it bounced off the second shooter¡¯s skull.

    In a heartbeat, he was on the third guy, knocking his baton out of his hands and smacking his metal pipe into his elbow, his knee, and his forearm, snapping the little bones by his wrist as he tried to block. Then, as the banger turned and stumbled onto his knees, Tony cracked him on the back of his head, sending him flopping onto the pavement.

    Tony stood, chest heaving, over the three bodies, and Addie turned and gagged, her stomach clenching, but nothing coming up. The pavement was hot and sticky under her hands, and she could feel the little bits of broken glass and dust grinding into the scrapes on her palms. She focused on that discomfort, trying to inhale and exhale without her stomach rebelling again, but she kept hearing the crunch of the first guy¡¯s skull and the weird, horribly satisfying ping of the pipe as it rebounded off the other bangers¡¯ bones.

    Suddenly, strong fingers gripped her arm, digging into her biceps as they pulled, and Tony said, ¡°Come on. We gotta get out of here.¡±

    It hurt where those fingers dug into the soft part of her arm, and Addie jerked, trying to pull away. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she hissed.

    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here, Addie. They fired off something like twenty rounds. Somebody¡¯s gonna come calling.¡± Tony tugged on her arm again, and Addie saw he was scanning the sky¡ªlooking for drones, no doubt. He pulled her back the way they¡¯d come, toward the street. ¡°We¡¯ll go another way.¡±

    Addie let him pull her along, but she wanted to jerk out of his grasp. How could he be so calm? How could he do what he did? Who moved that fast? Who went from joking around to cracking skulls at the drop of a hat? She couldn¡¯t stop the words fighting to get past her lips, ¡°You¡ªyou killed them!¡±

    He looked at her like she was malfunctioning. ¡°They were trying to shoot us.¡± He lifted his other hand, and for the first time, Addie realized he had the first guy¡¯s jacket and it was wrapped around the two guns.

    ¡°You took their guns?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°If someone¡¯s going to try to kill me, I¡¯m gonna get paid for the trouble.¡±

    Addie Jerked her arm, finally getting free of his grasp. She supposed it had something to do with him letting go, but that didn¡¯t matter just then. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to kill them!¡±

    He scowled at her, his chrome eye looking suddenly baleful. ¡°Trying to pull punches when someone¡¯s shooting at you is a great way to get dead.¡± He looked away, and Addie picked up the pace, leading them down to the corner and avoiding alleys for a change. She felt sick and strange, like she was floating outside herself. Thinking that, imagining herself watching her body scurry down the street, putting distance between the two of them and the scene of the ambush, she realized she was watching herself. Humpty was still up there, floating along behind them, so she paused and called him down, stuffing him in her pack while Tony inspected his prizes.

    ¡°This is a Cold Boys jacket, right?¡±

    Addie looked at the leather with its two stitched-on skeletal stick figures with oversized skulls. ¡°Yeah.¡± She shrugged her pack on and started walking again, and Tony kept pace. They were moving quickly, and it wasn¡¯t long until they were in the neighborhood bordering Addie¡¯s. She began to relax, slowing down and shortening her strides. They walked at that more sedate pace for a minute, and as the tension built between them, Addie regarded Tony from the corner of her eye.

    Something had changed in her perception of him. A switch had been thrown, and he¡¯d gone from a silly, scrappy, near-stranger to exactly what she¡¯d accused him of just the night before¡ªdangerous. He wasn¡¯t just a fighter; he was a killer. He hadn¡¯t hesitated, and he certainly hadn¡¯t shown any regret. He¡¯d looted the men he¡¯d killed before Addie had even had the presence of mind to stand up and get out of there!

    He must have felt her silent judgment because he sighed heavily without looking at her and said, ¡°Sorry, Addie. I¡¯ll talk to Bert about getting my own place.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The words came at her out of left field. Did she want him gone? He¡¯d been brutally efficient, but he hadn¡¯t started it, right? Those bangers had shot at them. Addie scanned her memory, trying to remember the men¡¯s faces as she¡¯d seen them through her drone. She didn¡¯t know them, did she?

    ¡°I can see I freaked you out, and let¡¯s be honest. Those guys were probably gunning for me because of my fight with Malik. I think at this point I¡¯m bringing more trouble than I¡¯m helping you avoid.¡±

    Addie stopped and turned to him, moving out of the flow of traffic into the shadows beside the stoop of an office building. ¡°You don¡¯t know that. They could have been after us for going into Pulliam¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Nah, let¡¯s be real. I don¡¯t think we were in there long enough to warrant a kill squad.¡± He sighed again and shrugged, tucking his jacket-wrapped guns under his arm.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Addie frowned, lost for words. She idly rubbed at the scrapes on her palm with her thumb. Tony saw what she was doing and reached out with his flesh-and-blood hand, taking her hand, scowling down at the cuts.

    ¡°I do this?¡±

    ¡°You were just trying to get me out of danger.¡± His fingers were warm as he brushed away some of the blood-caked grime. Very softly, almost like she didn¡¯t want anyone to hear, even him, Addie said, ¡°It was the sound.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°The sound that pipe made as you¡­as you hit them.¡± She tapped her cheek near her eye. ¡°I made the mistake of watching Maisie¡¯s footage of when¡ª¡± Addie felt her throat getting tight as tears flooded her eyes. ¡°When Simon¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, shit.¡± Suddenly, Tony was pulling her into a hug. Addie resisted at first, but he was gentle and persistent, and she was feeling so many stupid emotions that she caved and collapsed against his chest. The guns dropped to the cement with a rattle, and he put both arms around her, pressing her tight. His chest was hard, and his warmup jacket smelled like a mixture of sweat and deodorant, and Addie wanted to hate it. She wanted to be grossed out or disgusted by him, but she wasn¡¯t. She liked the way he smelled, and his hand pressing gently into the middle of her back felt so good that she stopped trying to hold in her tears and let them flow.

    ¡°It sounded just like that,¡± she cried, ¡°when they hit him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± he kept repeating.

    Addie cried softly, sniffing and breathing shakily as the emotions ran their course. Surely, her reaction wasn¡¯t normal. Who shakes and weeps like that? Who lets a near-stranger comfort her after she basically just called him a murderous monster? ¡°It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s not your fault. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m crying. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m being such a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shh. Let it out. Your body¡¯s reacting to the adrenaline. You just survived your first combat situation, I think, and it triggered some godawful memories. I¡¯m sorry about all that, but, well, we¡¯re alive. If you wanna cry for Simon, go for it, but don¡¯t you dare cry for those bangers; they didn¡¯t have nice things planned for you after they dealt with me.¡± He rubbed her back some more, his palm hot against her shoulders, the heat of his chest building where her cheek pressed. Were all men so warm? Was she cold?

    ¡°Do you think anyone saw? What about their PAIs¡ª¡±

    ¡°Uh-uh. I pulled ¡¯em. I¡¯m sure Boxer had some drones in the air, but I don¡¯t think they usually get involved in that kind of thing, right?¡±

    Addie sniffed and shook her head. ¡°No, they leave the gangs alone as long as they¡¯re not messing with Boxer business.¡±

    Tony put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. ¡°Ready to walk? Let¡¯s get you home.¡±

    Addie nodded, feeling stupid and prissy and everything she knew she shouldn¡¯t be, not if she wanted people to take her seriously as a journo. The thought made her blink as she remembered the brief excitement she¡¯d felt after getting her scoop from the funeral home. The horror of the attack had erased that feeling, but it was still there, that exciting news. They were onto something! She took a step back as Tony bent to pick up his package, and Addie caught her first glimpse of the PAI chips he¡¯d pulled, their neural fibers all tangled together in a wad.

    ¡°Maybe don¡¯t put this one online,¡± he grunted, straightening.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The video. Maybe don¡¯t put it online. I think I¡¯ve got enough heat from the locals as it is.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid, Tony.¡±

    He sighed again and frowned, shaking his head. ¡°I know, Addie. You¡¯re damn smart. You saved my ass back there, you know that, right?¡±

    ¡°What? How?¡± Addie fell into step with him as he started moving again.

    ¡°With Humpty. You distracted them perfectly. I don¡¯t know anyone who could operate a drone that well.¡±

    Addie didn¡¯t know what to think about the compliment. Was she still upset with him? Was everything under the bridge now that he¡¯d hugged her and told her he¡ª

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sorry. I really am. If you can¡¯t stand to look at me, just say so. I get it.¡±

    ¡°Just, I don¡¯t know, maybe try not to use a pipe like that around me.¡±

    ¡°Deal. ¡¯Bout time I picked up a new vibroblade or something, yeah?¡± He nudged her with his elbow, and despite the horror of the subject matter, Addie couldn¡¯t help a half-smile. Yes, he was dangerous, and yes, there was a killer lurking under that grin, but he was kind of goofy and sweet, wasn¡¯t he?

    Gamely, she suggested, ¡°How about some kind of stunner or paralytic or¡ª¡±

    Tony laughed and elbowed her, interrupting her litany of less-than-lethal ideas. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it, all right?¡±

    Addie smiled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll talk about it.¡±

 1.23 Dinner Plans

    22 ¨C Dinner Plans

    Tony watched the door swing shut behind Addie and then listened as her footsteps tromped on the stairs leading up to the apartment she shared with Bert. He felt lousy about how upset she¡¯d gotten. He was more upset with the assholes who¡¯d jumped them, but he supposed everything had been a hell of a lot more shocking to Addie, and he hadn¡¯t exactly given the best possible response to the situation.

    He looked down at the counter where the two rifles and three PAI chips sat on the banger¡¯s liberated synth-leather jacket. Addie had made him promise not to tell Bert about her brush with death, but he¡¯d gotten her to agree to a plausible story for the weapons. That said, Tony slipped the PAIs with their tangled, filthy synthetic nerve fibers into his pocket; he¡¯d have to offload those somewhere else.

    He folded the jacket, hiding the gang colors, when Bert emerged from the storeroom¡ªhe¡¯d been on his way to the bathroom when they arrived. The older man cleared his throat and gave the guns a good, hard look. ¡°Took ¡¯em from some kids, huh? District¡¯s getting worse and worse, I suppose.¡± He picked up the semi-auto with the extended magazine. He ejected the mag, frowned at the polymer-jacketed .308s inside, and then worked the bolt, clearing the chamber. ¡°Hate to think of some kids shooting this old thing in the district. Did they say where they got the guns?¡±

    ¡°Nah, but they looked like banger wannabes. They didn¡¯t hang around to answer questions.¡±

    ¡°Well, this one¡¯s gotta be twenty-five or thirty years old, but it¡¯s a solid old piece¡ªGrommet Arms. The other one is actually a better gun, but it¡¯s meant for hunting.¡±

    Tony nodded. He¡¯d recognized the bolt action rifle and the high-powered optics array right away. It was a poor man¡¯s sniper rifle, or, as Bert said, a decent gun for hunting, but there wasn¡¯t any hunting to be had in the metro area. ¡°You think you can move ¡¯em?¡±

    ¡°Sure. They¡¯ll sell online pretty fast. You wanna do commission or want me to make you an offer?¡±

    Tony shrugged. ¡°Whatever¡¯s easier for you, boss.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s an even thousand for the Quail & Briggs and four-fifty for the Grommet Arms?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the ¡®Q¡¯ stands for? Quail & Briggs?¡± Tony had heard of the gun manufacturer before but never owned one.

    ¡°Yep. You can see it¡¯s not a knockoff because of the style of the boxes around the Q. See how one is tilted so it looks like a diamond? That¡¯s where most imitations mess up.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me. I mean the offer. You want me to start paying you rent?¡± Tony frowned and then shook his head. ¡°Actually, I mentioned to Addie that maybe I ought to start looking for my own place now that I got all my working parts back.¡± Tony touched the metal casing inside his right eye socket.

    ¡°No need to be hasty, Tony.¡± Bert smiled and held out a meaty palm. ¡°Hand me your bit-locker, and I¡¯ll make the transfer.¡± While Tony dug it out of his pocket, Bert added, ¡°Save up a bit, and then I¡¯ll help you find a place if you want. I know it isn¡¯t exactly a young man¡¯s dream to live in a storage room, so I won¡¯t feel bad about it, but I don¡¯t want you to feel rushed.¡±

    ¡°I feel like I already owe you a lot. This arm, for instance. I know you said you hadn¡¯t been able to sell it, but come on, Bert. Were you trying? I mean, there had to be some interest on the city net at least.¡±

    ¡°Nope, I wasn¡¯t lying, buddy.¡± Bert tapped Tony¡¯s bit-locker to his little terminal and then handed it back. ¡°I never listed it online¡ªrather see it get used by someone who needs it in the Blast, you know? As for guns?¡± He picked up the semi-automatic. ¡°I¡¯m happy to ship these outside the district. Don¡¯t worry about me or Addie, Tony; I¡¯m doing well enough that I¡¯ve got a rainy day fund socked away.¡± He hefted both guns and then jerked his head to the storeroom. ¡°Gonna take some photos and then box these up. You got any other plans?¡±

    Tony thought about the three PAI chips sitting in his pocket. If he could get a decent price for them, maybe he could afford one for himself¡ªone with Dust-link capabilities. Of course, there was always the chance they held data that might be valuable, too, though he didn¡¯t have the faintest inkling who to go to for something like that in the Blast. ¡°You know anyone who deals in used PAIs? I bought a comm chip earlier but wouldn¡¯t mind an upgrade.¡±

    ¡°Doc Peters couldn¡¯t help you out?¡±

    Tony shook his head. ¡°He says he doesn¡¯t deal in them enough.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s Dino¡¯s. He might have something, but there are a few chop docs in the district, too. Real ones¡ªnot like poor Doc Peters and his clinic. There¡¯s one in the NGT building.¡±

    ¡°Well, I think Addie wants to go down there tomorrow. Maybe I¡¯ll stop in.¡±

    Bert nodded, turning to the storeroom. ¡°She okay? She was kind of quiet when you two came in.¡±

    ¡°I think she wanted a nap. Some of the people she was dealing with were pretty rude.¡± Tony felt bad lying to Bert, but it was more like a stretch of the truth; those bangers had been damn rude. Thinking of them, Tony self-consciously poked his finger through the rip in his sleeve. It was the second track jacket he¡¯d ruined since arriving in the Blast.

    Bert cleared his throat and shifted his weight as he stepped toward the back door. ¡°I could use your help with a delivery, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Nadia Engels has a standing order for these little collectible figurines.¡± The older man held up a cardboard box featuring a big-eyed, doll-like character on the side. ¡°I got this on a net auction pretty cheap, but don¡¯t tell her that. She¡¯s loaded. You¡¯ll find her on the same street as Golden¡¯s¡ªthe big office building on the corner. She¡¯s a forensic auditor or something like that. Does most of her work for Boxer.¡±

    ¡°I just bring it to her?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯ll send me the bits.¡± Bert tapped his head and winked.

    ¡°Right on, boss. I¡¯m on it.¡± Tony snatched the little box up and then started for the door. Over his shoulder, he called, ¡°I might stop and buy a new jacket while I¡¯m out, but I won¡¯t be long.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me.¡±

    Tony waved again, then slipped out the door. On his new, rudimentary AUI, he opened a message window and selected Addie''s name from his tiny list of contacts. Mentally, he sent her a note:

    <blockquote>

    Tony: Hey, Ads. Heading out to make a delivery for your pops. Thinking I might pick up some noodles or something. Want me to grab you something?¡±

    </blockquote>

    ***

    Addie pulled on an oversized t-shirt, wrapped a towel around her damp hair, and collapsed onto her bed, suddenly exhausted for no good reason. In a way, she supposed it made sense; despite her mostly passive role in the whole¡­scene in the alley, she¡¯d definitely been riding on adrenaline for a while.

    That kind of thing would take a lot out of a person. At least that¡¯s what Tony had said. He¡¯d been the one to recommend she take a shower and maybe a nap. Wasn¡¯t he bothered? She supposed not; he¡¯d been ready to talk guns with her dad, and the origin of those guns didn¡¯t seem to concern him one tiny bit.

    She pushed the judgmental thought aside; hadn¡¯t he already kind of made it up to her? Hadn¡¯t he said he was sorry and hugged her for a lot longer than she¡¯d hugged anyone in recent memory? ¡°God, JJ. He¡¯s a great hugger.¡±

    ¡°Would you like me to compose a list of ¡®hugger¡¯ qualities and rank individuals upon it? To get started, I¡¯ll need you to tell me who you are referring to.¡±

    Addie snorted, turning onto her side so she could see the almost-blue sky over the top of the apartment building across the street. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, JJ, but a good kind of idiot.¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Thank you, Addie.¡±

    She watched the sky and tried to figure out why she felt unsettled. It wasn¡¯t just the adrenaline or the fact that people had been shooting at her. It wasn¡¯t just the explosive violence she¡¯d witnessed out of Tony. No, it was more the fact that she was lying comfortable, warm, and cozy in a safe apartment, and three young men were lying dead in an alley not much more than a mile away. She wouldn¡¯t blame Tony for that. She couldn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t his fault that he was a product of a violent life, one in which the rule was simple: if people tried to kill you, you killed them first.

    No, she was more upset with the situation that would cause those three young men to try to ambush them. It wasn¡¯t such a far-fetched idea that Addie might have wound up doing something that stupid. A few seemingly random occurrences in her life had taken her down a different road, but she knew plenty of friends¡ªmost of them¡ªwho¡¯d found their way into gangs. Life was cheap in the Blast, and Addie hated that fact. Was it fair for her to have a dad who loved and sheltered her when so many young people were fending for themselves the minute they were old enough to hustle?

    ¡°What is this? Survivor¡¯s guilt?¡±

    ¡°Addie, survivor¡¯s guilt is a complex emotional response to surviving a traumatic event in which others¡ªwhether victims, perpetrators, or even bystanders¡ªdid not survive. Would you like me to elaborate?¡±

    ¡°No, JJ. I was being rhetorical.¡±

    ¡°Apologies.¡±

    Addie sighed heavily and flopped onto her back. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Of course, her conversation with the day manager at the funeral home was the first topic to dance across her mind, but that road led to the alley, and Addie forced her thoughts away.

    She looked at her news page on the city net, saw she¡¯d gained over two hundred new followers, and began flipping through the comments on her Boxer Day vid. Feeling encouraged, she contemplated editing her interview from the funeral home, but then her message icon flashed, and she opened a window to read it:

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Hey, Addie! I hope it¡¯s okay to reach out to you like this; I found your news site, and you listed your contact info, so¡­

    </blockquote>

    Addie¡¯s eyes bulged out at the message. Zane! ¡°JJ, is there any user data associated with this message?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s from a Boxer Corp internal network associated with a user named Zane Kovalenko. There¡¯s nothing further.¡±

    Addie couldn¡¯t help the smile pulling on her cheeks as she replied:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: Hi, Zane! It¡¯s fine, but now I¡¯m feeling very self-conscious about my news vids!

    </blockquote>

    She watched the little dots indicating he was responding, practically holding her breath.

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Well, listen, you¡¯ve got nothing to be embarrassed about! Those are some really well-edited vids. Interesting content, too! Hey, um, I¡¯m off for a couple of days¡ªmy manager¡¯s bribe to get me to do that little magic show. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to talk some more? I know it¡¯s short notice, but I¡¯ve got nothing going on this evening.

    </blockquote>

    Addie felt her heart racing as if she was doing something risky or against the rules. Was it because he was a corpo? Was it because he was absurdly handsome, and she didn¡¯t want him to figure out how plain she was? Whatever was making her heart practically rattle against her ribs, she tried to push it down and respond before she chickened out:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: I think that would be really nice! I could use a distraction.

    Zane K: That¡¯s great! I¡¯ll send a car for you in about an hour. Cool?

    </blockquote>

    Addie¡¯s eyes bulged, and she audibly gulped. He was sending a car? What was Bert going to say? What would Tony think? Everyone on the block would be talking! ¡°Oh, no, no, no.¡±

    Addie: You don¡¯t have to do that! I can meet you.

    The dots blinked and stopped, then blinked again before Zane¡¯s reply came through:

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Okay. No worries. How about we meet by the NGT building? There¡¯s a restaurant nearby where we can get a quiet table and chat. Is an hour okay?

    </blockquote>

    Addie felt relief wash over her, and she smiled as she started mentally typing her reply. Before she sent it, though, another chat window popped up:

    <blockquote>

    Tony: Hey, Ads. Heading out to make a delivery for your pops. Thinking I might pick up some noodles or something. Want me to grab you something?¡±

    </blockquote>

    Addie suddenly felt that wave of guilty nervousness again. Why? Was there something wrong with having more than one friend? Scowling, irritated by her weird, conflicting emotions, she replied:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: Thanks so much, Tony, but I¡¯m going to meet a friend. Catch up with you later?

    </blockquote>

    While she waited for a reply, she sent her message to Zane:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: Sounds perfect. See you then.

    Tony: Fair enough. Catch you later.

    </blockquote>

    Addie smiled. What was she worried about? Tony wouldn¡¯t be bothered that she had other friends to talk to!

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Looking forward to it.

    </blockquote>

    Addie shot out of bed like she¡¯d been struck by lightning, her eyes wide and wild. What was she going to wear? He hadn¡¯t specified the kind of restaurant. If she dressed up too much¡ªfalsely presuming she had something ¡°too much¡±¡ªshe might give him the wrong idea, anyway, right? No, better to be comfortable but still look decent.

    Addie opened her closet, pushing the clothes on their hangers one by one until she got to the last item and felt absolutely zero inspiration. ¡°I hate my clothes, JJ.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Addie. Shall I compile a list of nearby clothing retailers?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she sighed, pulling the towel off her still-damp hair. She stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection framed by the glow of the LEDs that ran the length of the glass on either side. Her shoulder-length auburn hair hung in thick, unruly waves that seemed determined to defy gravity. She reached for her old ceramic hairbrush, dragging it through a particularly stubborn tangle with a grimace.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she muttered, flipping her head forward so her hair fell like a curtain over her face. She scrunched it up with her hands, hoping for that effortlessly tousled look that never seemed to come when she wanted it. When it failed¡ªas she¡¯d expected¡ªshe straightened back up and sighed. ¡°Fine. Plan B.¡±

    She unplugged the blow dryer from the charging port on the wall, set it to medium heat, and started attacking her hair with a combination of brushing and blasting. As her hair began to dry, the waves sprang to life, thick and full, a cascade of coppery brown that seemed almost luminescent under the light. It always looked better in the light. In a dim setting, it was dark and dull, the highlights invisible. She sprayed the dregs of mousse from a can, scrunching it into the ends to give the waves more definition.

    ¡°How¡¯s it look, JJ?¡± she asked, twisting a lock around her finger to test its bounce. As her poor PAI sputtered for a compliment, she pinned back a section on one side with a small clip, tucking it behind her ear. She stepped back, tilting her head as she examined her handiwork. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was natural and soft¡ªapproachable. She ran her fingers through the waves one last time, letting them settle into a deliberately messy, carefree style. At least, that was the impression she hoped she was giving.

    ¡°Now, clothes.¡± She settled for a pair of newish jeans¡ªblack ones that looked almost like slacks in the right light. She didn¡¯t have fancy shoes, so she put on her black and white canvas ones, and, likely to impress no one, she pulled on a soft, baby blue sweater made of some kind of fabric blend that almost shimmered in the light. It was cheap, but it looked nice and was as soft as could be, so she always felt comfortable in it.

    On the way out of the apartment, she smeared a little bandage gel on her palms, blowing on it to dry the thin, protective layer on the scrapes. Downstairs, she was glad to see Tony wasn¡¯t back yet. She wasn¡¯t sure why, but she was nervous about how he¡¯d react to her doing her hair before going out. She was afraid he¡¯d ask where she was going, and she¡¯d have to either tell an uncomfortable truth¡ªshe was going to the NGT building in the evening¡ªor lie.

    Her dad was fussing with a package at the counter and hardly looked up as she walked by. ¡°Going somewhere, sweet pea?¡±

    ¡°Gonna grab a bite.¡± Addie paused by the door and looked back at him; he still hadn¡¯t looked up. ¡°Do you want me to pick you up something?¡±

    ¡°No, thank you, honey. I¡¯ve got leftovers.¡±

    ¡°See you later, then.¡±

    ¡°Be safe!¡±

    Addie smiled. He always said that. She slipped out the door and turned to the left, setting her sights on the enormous silhouette of the half-destroyed megatower in the distance. Neo-Genesis Technologies¡ªthe company had gone bankrupt when the Aurora Gate fell and destroyed the top half of their home arcology.

    It hadn¡¯t just been the loss of property and life but the lawsuits afterward that had done them in. Even though NGT as a company was gone, the big red neon letters remained. Now, the tower was owned by a corporate conglomeration, and the half that hadn¡¯t been destroyed was rented out or abandoned. Addie had heard all sorts of creepy stories about the empty floors up near the broken-off part.

    She stretched her legs, picking up the pace. It was a good half-hour walk to the tower, but she figured she could make it in time. ¡°Maybe a couple of minutes late,¡± she muttered. ¡°JJ, set me a walking route to the NGT building.¡± A new window appeared on her AUI, showing her a little mini-map with a dotted blue line leading toward the tower. Her estimated arrival time was 6:12. She looked at the timestamp for her conversation with Zane¡ªone hour from the last message was 6:05. ¡°Close enough,¡± she confirmed.

    It was a little chilly out, but her sweater was warm. She glanced at the sky, trying to spot the setting sun, but it was already behind the big buildings to the west. She figured the sky would still be light by the time she arrived, in any case. Even so, she was feeling a little foolish for heading down to the NGT building at night, especially after telling Tony it was a bad idea. She supposed she could splurge for a cab home. It was really the only smart thing to do; walking alone outside the neighborhood at night was just stupid.

    ¡°JJ, what¡¯s my Sol-bit balance?¡±

    ¡°Your primary account holds 945.0313 Sol-bits.¡±

    ¡°How much is an AutoCab from NGT back home?¡±

    ¡°AutoCab is quoting a rate of 54.9871 Sol-bits at this hour.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Addie exhaled a deep breath, glad she had a plan. She hadn¡¯t hired a cab in a while, and though she hated the idea of throwing fifty-some bits down the drain, it was a lot better than risking her neck trying to walk home after dinner. Smiling, more excited than she had any right to be, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans and walked a little faster¡ªmaybe she could pick up a minute or two if she timed the crosswalks just right.

 1.24 Show and Tell

    24 ¨C Show and Tell

    The neighborhood around the NGT building was busy¡ªthe busiest in district seventeen. Skyscrapers abounded, but they all looked small in the shadow of the truncated megatower. On the ground level, the tower didn¡¯t even look broken unless you stood a block away and craned your neck upward, past the enormous overhanging park level near the break. Then, you could see the giant, building-sized girders sticking up, twisted by the collapse of the tower¡¯s top half.

    Addie had seen it plenty of times, but she always felt a little bit of awe as she approached the tower, and it steadily grew in her perspective. It was hard to believe that there were dozens of megastructures as big or bigger than it in New Manhattan. She wondered how many Tony had visited for one job or another. Thinking about Tony brought a fresh twist of guilt in her stomach; it wasn¡¯t that she felt like she¡¯d done anything wrong as far as he was concerned. It was more the idea that she was sort of sneaking off to dinner in a place she¡¯d said was too dangerous to visit at night.

    ¡°Is it, though?¡± she muttered, turning onto NGT Avenue, still named for the defunct tech company that had spent hundreds of billions on the broken tower. There were thousands of people out and about in the area, and, sure, as the night grew late, there might be some shootings and robberies, but the odds that anything would happen to her were slim, especially if she took a cab home. Besides, Addie was just a little tired of her father¡¯s overprotective nature. ¡°For real, though!¡± she said, shaking her head in amused dismay. He''d hired a total stranger to live in his shop as an excuse to have another set of eyes on her!

    ¡°Addie,¡± JJ said, his tinny, robotic voice hesitant, ¡°you aren¡¯t speaking to me, are you?¡±

    ¡°No, JJ.¡± Addie flicked her gaze to her chat window with Zane and expanded it. Mentally, she typed: Near the tower. What restaurant?

    She continued walking, and less than a minute later, his reply popped up:

    Zane K: ?A D¨®nde Vas? That¡¯s not a question; it¡¯s the name of the restaurant. It¡¯s less than a block from the NGT building.

    Addie groaned. She¡¯d heard of the place and was pretty sure she was under-dressed. She self-consciously smoothed her sweater as she walked and looked down at herself. It was her shoes, mainly. Her canvas sneakers were not exactly new or clean-looking. She resolved not to worry about it. He¡¯d invited her. He should have warned her if he picked a place with a dress code.

    She had JJ update her map, saw she was only three minutes away, and slowed her strides, suddenly feeling nervous. A cold trickle of sweat ran down her ribs on the right side, and she groaned. Why was she so nervous? Zane was just a nice guy she¡¯d met, someone with a lot in common with her, apparently, and who might be able to give her some advice. This wasn¡¯t a date! Nodding to confirm her inner dialogue, Addie moved through the crowds, trying not to be overwhelmed by the constant spam of advertisements attempting to intrude on her AUI.

    JJ wasn¡¯t terrible at filtering the spam, but he let things through here and there. The sex workers were the hardest for him to recognize for some reason. She supposed it was probably just a combination of high volume and the fact that they tended to disguise their ads as personal messages. Addie was almost glad that her optics couldn¡¯t produce flicker-free overlays, so it was easy enough to recognize the semi-transparent, shimmering, sometimes glowing men and women leaning close to whisper their promises of sweet release. She just waved them away before they flicked an address ping at her.

    When she reached her destination building, she stepped into the lobby and was relieved to see a broad spectrum of clientele inside. She followed the signs past the elevator bank, down a few hallways decked in faux marble and hardwoods, and came to the restaurant''s reception desk. Another wave of relief washed over her when she saw Zane standing near a bench for waiting diners, dressed almost as casually as she was¡ªnice, tapered black slacks and polished shoes, but a close-fitting gray T-shirt with a V-neck on his top half.

    He looked up at her approach and smiled brightly, his straight white teeth drawing Addie¡¯s attention away from his stylishly wavy sandy-brown hair. ¡°Hey! So glad you came,¡± he said as if her messages might have been a string of lies. As Addie came to stand beside him, he leaned down for a perfunctory hug, pressing his cheek against her ear. ¡°You look nice.¡±

    ¡°Oh, um,¡± Addie smoothed her sweater as she stepped away from him, still trying to categorize her feelings about his powerful cologne, ¡°thanks.¡± She was so relieved to see his casual attire that she almost forgot to respond. After a few awkward¡ªto her¡ªseconds, she stammered, ¡°You clean up well, Zane.¡±

    ¡°Hey, thanks.¡± He shrugged and reached up to fiddle with an earring Addie hadn¡¯t noticed before. He turned the silvery, round ball as he continued speaking, ¡°Our table should be ready in just a minute. The synth said twelve minutes when I arrived, and it¡¯s been at least ten.¡±

    ¡°Synth?¡± Addie looked at the hostess just a few feet away, frowning. She seemed perfectly human¡ªwavy black hair, big, lifelike brown eyes, and mannerisms that spoke of a lifetime of forming habits. Addie tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes as she activated the spectral overlay in her optics.

    Her cybernetic retinas weren¡¯t the highest quality, so she was immediately beset by static and flickering artifacts. Even so, as the world dimmed, colors muting into shades of gray and blue as her optics filtered out the visible spectrum and shifted to ultraviolet detection, Addie¡¯s eyes widened with surprise as she focused on the girl¡¯s face.

    There it was¡ªa faint, glowing emblem etched into her temple, previously invisible but now stark and undeniable. The mark resembled interwoven lines, like a delicate circuit board or a lattice of vines, glowing softly in the ultraviolet spectrum. It pulsed faintly, almost alive, with a subtle rhythm that matched the movements of the synthetic¡¯s body. It was a mark required by corporate consortium law, but Addie had only ever read about them; the synths in her neighborhood looked like synths.

    With a flick of her focus, Addie disengaged the spectral overlay. The world snapped back into vivid color, and the mark disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the unsettlingly perfect human fa?ade. Zane, watching her intently, nodded. ¡°Pretty uncanny, huh?¡±

    ¡°Never seen one so perfect.¡±

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t live in the Blast, you¡¯d see ¡¯em all the time.¡±

    ¡°I mean, we¡¯re basically at ground zero here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s still a lot of the old corpo money in this neighborhood. Still a bunch of businesses headquartered out of the NGT building.¡± He gestured to himself. ¡°Boxer, for instance.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Addie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and shrugged.

    ¡°Zane?¡± the synth said, projecting her voice to be heard over the restaurant''s noise behind her. Addie had a momentary panic, afraid they¡¯d been overheard, but the hostess¡¯s following words put her at ease, ¡°Your table¡¯s ready. Please follow me.¡±

    Zane smiled and motioned for Addie to precede him, so she followed after the synth, unable to stop staring, watching her hips sway, her calves flex, and her hair bounce around her shoulders. She was so real! The synth so entranced Addie that she hardly noticed the restaurant. Her vague impression was that it was busy and relatively upscale but nothing intimidating. The hostess delivered them to a horseshoe-shaped corner booth, and when they sat down, the noise in the restaurant immediately fell away like a heavy curtain had been drawn.

    Zane smiled at her reaction. ¡°Noise shielding. I wouldn¡¯t consider a restaurant without it, not with what we¡¯ve got to discuss.¡±

    Addie turned to watch the synthetic hostess make her way back across the restaurant, then looked at Zane. ¡°Oh yeah? What do we have to discuss that¡¯s so sensitive?¡±

    He shrugged, scooting around the booth so he was closer to her. ¡°Well, nothing, I guess. I just got the impression you were a little leery about talking about your¡­talents.¡±

    Addie smiled, shaking her head, a little embarrassed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to be snarky. I¡¯m not used to, um, nice places and¡­¡± She trailed off lamely.

    ¡°No worries.¡± He¡¯d put himself at the back of the booth while Addie still sat on the left side. It wasn¡¯t exactly intimate, but he was a lot closer than if he¡¯d sat across from her. Of course, Addie¡¯s mind began to spin about what that meant. Was this a date? Was he interested in her like that, or was he just being friendly? The only thing she could think was that there was no way¡ªno way a guy so damn handsome would want a thing to do with an average-looking girl from the Blast.

    Feeling awkward and trying to get her mind to stop spinning, she gestured to the dining room. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of this place¡ªsupposed to be good.¡±

    ¡°It is! Do you like tacos? They do a deconstructed street taco thing with five different house-made salsas. Well¡­ I mean, they¡¯re just tacos, but I love spicy food, and I always get it. They have all kinds of stuff, though. Check out the menu; I¡¯m not trying to sell anything.¡± He laughed, and Addie realized he sounded nervous, which brought a smile to her lips and banished some of the nerves gnawing at her gut.

    ¡°Well¡ª¡± She called up the menu on her AUI. ¡°¡ªI like tacos just fine, but I ate a bunch of them on Boxer Day. I might branch out a little.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Of course.¡± He nodded rapidly, then his eyes glazed over as he, too, read through the menu. ¡°Can I order us a pitcher of margaritas?¡±

    ¡°Woah, buddy. You trying to get me scrambled?¡± Addie laughed to soften the words. ¡°I mean, you can get a pitcher, but I won¡¯t have more than one or two drinks¡¯ worth.¡±

    ¡°Fine with me!¡±

    Addie scanned through the menu, pausing on the entr¨¦e section and trying not to let the shock show on her face when she saw the prices¡ªninety bits for ¡°pollo en Pipi¨¢n,¡± for instance. JJ told her the dish was just a cut of chicken served with a sauce made from pumpkin seeds, chiles, and tomatillos. It sounded good, but Addie let her eyes drift back to the appetizers and salads. She didn¡¯t want to spend so much on a single meal.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Maybe she hadn¡¯t been as good at masking her thoughts as she¡¯d thought, or maybe the menu reminded Zane of his intentions¡ªwhatever the case, he said, ¡°Hey, by the way, since we¡¯re going to talk about Dust and the possibility of you speaking to a Boxer recruiter, I¡¯m going to charge this as a business expense. Don¡¯t worry about the prices.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Is that what this is all about? I thought you were just looking to kill some time on your day off.¡±

    Zane chuckled and picked up his glass of water¡ªwhen had someone dropped off water?¡ªtaking a sip. ¡°Look, I won¡¯t lie to you. I thought you were¡­interesting, and I wanted to hang out a little bit more. I figure I might help you out and earn some points with the company while I¡¯m at it, though. I really think what Boxer has to offer people like you¡ªlike us¡ªis worth taking a look at.¡±

    Addie had figured as much, so she didn¡¯t press the issue. With a little relief and a hint of malicious pleasure, she selected the chicken dish and an appetizer¡ªchorizo-stuffed dates. She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d like the flavors together, but she liked the chorizo and eggs she often ordered from Manuel¡¯s, and she was pretty sure dates were a kind of dried fruit. ¡°I ordered the chicken dish¡ªthe, um, pollo en Pipi¨¢n¡ªand some chorizo-stuffed dates.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Zane smiled and nodded. ¡°You like chicken? It¡¯s real, you know.¡±

    Addie¡¯s eyes widened, and her cheeks began to heat up. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, not vat-grown protein, but real cuts with the bone and all. The restaurant gets it flown in from up north.¡±

    Addie gulped, reaching for her water and leaning back in the booth, the ice cubes clinking against the sides of her glass. Suddenly, the price tag made a lot more sense. ¡°Do you think I should change my order¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hell¡ª¡± Zane shrugged. ¡°¡ªI wouldn¡¯t. You gotta try everything once or twice, right?¡±

    ¡°Do¡ªdo they suffer?¡±

    Zane¡¯s smile widened, exposing a chrome-plated tooth behind his right canine. ¡°The chickens? Nah! If you read the ¡®about¡¯ section on the menu, they talk about the ¡®free-range¡¯ farms and the humane treatment. This isn¡¯t the kind of chicken you¡¯d find in the big factories back in the day before vats got popular.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good, I guess.¡± Addie felt a little queasy at the thought, but some¡ªusually quiet¡ªvoice in the corner of her mind was saying to go for it. She wanted to see what it was like, how meat such as Seymour Hersh might have eaten would look and taste. While she was sipping her water, another synth arrived, this one a good deal more obvious with gray, plastic-like flesh, and deposited a pitcher of yellow, icy liquid on the table along with two salt-rimmed glasses.

    Zane poured them each a margarita and asked, ¡°Have you thought about it much? The whole Dust thing?¡±

    Addie was frantically having JJ look up how to drink from a glass coated in salt but managed to reply, ¡°Yeah, for sure. It¡¯s all I¡¯ve been thinking about, really.¡± She was lying, of course, considering what she and Tony had gotten up to that day, but she didn¡¯t want to get into that.

    JJ spoke softly into her ear, ¡°Just drink it like normal, and the margarita will pick up the salt flavor.¡± Addie didn¡¯t need the help; Zane was leading by example, downing a huge gulp of his drink. She took a sip, her eyes shooting wide as the tangy, sweet, salty flavors exploded on her tastebuds.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good.¡± She licked the salt flakes off her lips and couldn¡¯t help chasing her words with a giggle.

    ¡°Told you!¡± He set his glass down and idly spun it while he asked, ¡°So? What are you thinking? Don¡¯t you want to learn more about what you can do?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, but that doesn¡¯t mean I want to sell my soul to Boxer.¡± Heat rushed to Addie¡¯s cheeks again, and she lifted a hand to her mouth, hiding behind it. ¡°Oh! I didn¡¯t mean that¡ªI¡¯m too used to talking trash about corpos. I¡¯m sorry, Zane!¡±

    He waved her apology off. ¡°Nah, I get it. I had lots of friends like that when I was younger. Corpos have bad raps for a reason, you know? Thing is, when you have real talent, something that can¡¯t be installed with a chip, you get some bargaining power when it comes to contracts.¡±

    ¡°Is that the case with you?¡±

    ¡°Yep. I¡¯ve got a deal that lets me work for the big bad corpo without feeling too guilty.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You could do that too. Sparks are in high demand.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re so sure I¡¯m a spark?¡±

    Zane grinned as he leaned back to reach into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small silvery disc that looked almost like a drink coaster. He held it up and twisted it left and right so it caught the light on its iridescent surface. ¡°How about we find out?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Addie narrowed her eyes at the object, querying JJ to identify it. His little search animation kept spinning, though, as Zane explained.

    ¡°This is something that can evaluate the strength of your ability to manipulate Dust. I emphasize that word because there are other ways to evaluate people like us, but that¡¯s the primary, or maybe most easily evaluated one.¡±

    ¡°How does it work?¡± Addie didn¡¯t bother trying to hide how intrigued she was.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you, but¡ª¡± He cut himself off as another synth arrived with the appetizer Addie had ordered. Its polished, seamless white hands held the tray with the kind of care you¡¯d expect from a seasoned server. Each step it took was measured and silent. As it deposited the tray on the table, Addie¡¯s mouth began to water. The golden-brown dates glistened under the soft lighting, a faint wisp of smoky, savory aroma curled up from the tray, the chorizo inside giving off a rich, spicy scent that mingled with the caramelized sweetness of the dates.

    The synth didn¡¯t smile or speak; it turned with elegant precision and noiselessly walked away. As it turned, Addie watched its face, looking for a hint of thought or emotion behind its glassy blue eyes, but nothing was there. She wasn¡¯t sure why she was fixating on the synths; she supposed it had to do with the lifelike hostess; some part of her was wondering if any of the others working in the restaurant were special.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Zane said, nodding to the appetizers.

    Addie nodded and put one on her little plate. It was warm but not hot, so she lifted it to her lips but froze before biting it. ¡°Is this real pork?¡±

    Zane tilted his head and clicked his tongue, throwing her a half smile. ¡°Well, real vat-grown pork. No little pigs were involved.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, biting it in half. It was delicious, the meld of flavors reminding her of Mexican candy¡ªsavory, sweet, and a little spicy. She stuffed the second half into her mouth before swallowing, enjoying the mouth feel. ¡°God, that¡¯s good!¡± She giggled, holding the back of her hand in front of her mouth. She noticed Zane hadn¡¯t moved and pointed to the tray, ¡°Come on! Eat one!¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure.¡± He snatched up one of the dates and bit it in half. ¡°Mmph! You weren¡¯t joking.¡±

    Addie chewed and swallowed, then took a drink of her margarita, noting a distinct tingly euphoria that told her the alcohol in the beverage had not been skimped on. Zane swallowed his bite, then set the disc between them on the table, scooting a little closer to her. ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean, ready to watch me?¡± When Addie nodded, he reached into his other pocket and took out a tiny, silver, screw-top container, just a bit smaller than one of Addie¡¯s lip gloss containers. He unscrewed the top, and she caught her breath. The inside teemed with brilliant, rainbow-hued particles of Dust that seemed to roil and pulse around each other. ¡°This is refined Dust. It has a Luminal Index rating of four point eight.¡±

    ¡°Oh my God!¡± Addie breathed, leaning close. It was just a tiny amount of Dust, but that little container would probably cost more than everything in her father¡¯s shop.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s beautiful. Watch.¡± Zane tilted the little container over the silvery disc, causing Addie to gasp in alarm, but as the dust poured out, it fell into the air and then gathered there, a loose ball of shimmering, glittering dust particles that hovered over the disc but didn¡¯t drift or fall away. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Zane whispered, ¡°I¡¯m not trying to lose two hundred k worth of Boxer-bits.¡±

    Of course he thought in terms of Boxer-bits; Addie didn¡¯t have to ask JJ to know the conversion rate was about point-eight Boxer-bits to each Sol-bit. Even so, it was a small fortune glittering in the air before her. ¡°What¡¯s it doing?¡±

    ¡°Nothing at the moment¡ªthat disc is a fancy piece of Dust-tech. It creates a field that gathers the Dust, keeping it from drifting off or scattering on the breeze. It can also measure the amount of external influence applied to the Dust it has gathered.¡± He looked around the restaurant outside their booth and chuckled. ¡°The really cool thing is that unless someone has some talent, they can¡¯t even see it. To most of those people in the restaurant, you and I are just leaning close, staring at something on the table while we chat.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Addie shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s hard to believe.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± He smiled and winked at her, then gestured to the ball of glowing Dust. ¡°I¡¯ll show you how it¡¯s done.¡± He held his hand up, palm facing outward toward the Dust. ¡°You know how you sort of touch the Dust in your matrix so you can send your consciousness through it and into your drone?¡± Addie licked her lips nervously but nodded. He was the first person she¡¯d ever spoken to who seemed to understand what she was doing with Humpty. ¡°Well, I do something similar here. I can feel the Dust out there¡ªjust beyond where the Dust matrix terminates in my hand. The closer I put my hand, the more I can sense it.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Addie nodded.

    ¡°So, now that I can feel it, I just pull.¡± His eyes narrowed with concentration, and then the ball of nearly microscopic Dust motes began to agitate¡ªvibrating and bouncing¡ªindividual motes separating from the cluster before being pulled back in. Zane¡¯s scowl deepened, and Addie could see a sheen of sweat beading his forehead as he continued with whatever effort he was making. The motes swirled and pulsed but never broke free of the containment disc. After thirty seconds or so, Zane lowered his hand and wiped his brow with his napkin. ¡°Whew!¡±

    ¡°Did it work?¡±

    ¡°Yep, look.¡± He stretched out one finger and tapped the silvery disc beneath the ball of Dust, and Addie saw a tiny holographic display:

    <blockquote>

    Containment Field Resistance: 58.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Fifty-eight? Is that high?¡±

    Zane shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not my best, but it¡¯s better than most of the folks I work with can do.¡± He gestured to the glittering ball of Dust. ¡°Want to try?¡±

    Addie picked up another date and stuffed it in her mouth, chewing noisily as her cheeks bulged. She held her hand before her mouth again, trying not to smile in embarrassment because she feared some of the chorizo would spill out. Finally, she swallowed and took another sip of her margarita before answering. ¡°Yes, of course I want to! This is all so interesting!¡±

    ¡°Okay, do you need me to walk you through¡ª¡± He stopped speaking as Addie held her palm out toward the ball of Dust and nervously licked her lips, waiting to see if she could even feel it. She did¡ªa full thirty centimeters away from the Dust, she felt its warmth and a tingling sensation in her palm. It was like holding your hand out to a ball of hot socks with a bunch of static electricity built up in it. It felt soft and pliant but charged with something¡ªpotential, Addie decided.

    ¡°I can feel it,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Wow! From back there?¡± Addie nodded, her eyes big as she glanced at Zane, wondering if she¡¯d done something wrong. He smiled reassuringly, then reached out to take her wrist, pulling her hand within ten centimeters of the Dust. ¡°Try from right here. Just connect with the Dust like you do your drone and pull it toward you.¡±

    From so close, the ball of Dust felt positively hot. The skin on her palm was itching with it, almost like when a limb falls asleep and starts to wake up again. Addie stretched her consciousness into her matrix, sending her perceptions out through the impure Dust in her body and then to the ball of refined Dust. When she connected with it, she felt like laughing. It was like a hot shower for her brain. It was vibrant, powerful, and alive, and it made her heart swell with joy.

    As tears sprang into her eyes, she pulled on the Dust. She could feel it wanted to come to her. The little motes swirled, rolling over each other by the thousands as they jumped and leaped, fighting to go to her but failing, each time being pulled back by the little containment disc. Tears¡ªjoyful or desperate, Addie couldn¡¯t tell¡ªstreamed down her cheeks as she tried to pull the Dust to her, desperate to get it into her. After a while, though, her pull grew weaker, and she knew she¡¯d exhausted whatever hidden ¡°muscle¡± she was using to try to gather the stuff.

    Zane, silent, a weird expression on his face, reached out to tap the silvery disc, and Addie read the display:

    <blockquote>

    Containment Field Resistance: 91.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Holy shit, Addie,¡± he muttered, shock and something else, something Addie couldn¡¯t quite read, on his face. She wanted to say it was confusion or maybe incredulity, but something in her gut told her it was jealousy. As she watched him come to grips with what he¡¯d just witnessed, Addie regretted coming to meet him¡ªshe¡¯d made a mistake.

 1.25 Poor Communication

    25 ¨C Poor Communication

    At first, Addie thought she was reacting to Zane¡¯s expression¡ªthe sudden racing heart, her stomach roiling, threatening an upheaval of dates, chorizo, and margarita, and the weird flush of hot sweat that had brought a sheen to her forehead and cheeks. So, when Zane looked at her with wide eyes and a nervous, guilty glance at the Dust containment device and reached out to press the back of his hand to her forehead, chuckling a little, she shied away. ¡°Hold still now, I¡¯m just checking something.¡±

    ¡°What? I¡¯m not feeling well, Zane. I¡¯m so sorry, but I think I should¡ª¡±

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± he hissed, pulling his hand back. ¡°I think you actually pulled a particle of Dust out of the containment.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Addie¡¯s head felt foggy, and she¡¯d just realized her ears were ringing.

    ¡°Check your Dust levels.¡±

    ¡°JJ,¡± Addie whispered hoarsely, leaning her hands on the table. ¡°Dust levels.¡± She stared at the display, dismayed by what she saw:

    Dust Purity: Impure +

    Dust Capacity: MAX/30

    ¡°I-I¡¯m at max. I¡¯ve never seen that before. It usually just says thirty out of thirty.¡±

    ¡°What? Your reactor¡¯s max is thirty units? Well, shit, that¡¯s why you¡¯re not feeling well. The Dust is overflowing your matrix. It¡¯s in your body.¡± Addie coughed and shook her head, scooting toward the edge of the booth. ¡°Hold on! Where are you going?¡± Zane caught her wrist. ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay; it¡¯ll take a few hours for your matrix to process that bit of refined Dust, that¡¯s all. Someone with your talent isn¡¯t going to be harmed by a little Dust exposure¡ªI mean not clean Dust.¡±

    Addie shook her wrist. ¡°I need to go, Zane. Please let me go.¡±

    He released her and nodded. ¡°Shoot! I¡¯m sorry about this, Addie. I was trying to do something fun; I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d pull any dust out of the containment. That shouldn¡¯t really happen, as far as I know. I mean, granted, I¡¯m not an expert, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Zane!¡± Addie nearly cried the words as she slid out of the booth. ¡°I need to go to the restroom. Message me!¡±

    As Addie started across the dining room, she heard him call, ¡°I¡¯ll order you an AutoCab, okay?¡± She didn¡¯t respond; she was too focused on keeping the contents of her stomach from becoming contents outside her stomach.

    She rushed past the perfect, beautiful synthetic hostess and then hurried down the hallway toward the lobby and the public restrooms. A part of her mind wondered if there had been closer restrooms in the restaurant, but she didn¡¯t care. As soon as she rounded the first corner, she broke into a run. Fifteen seconds later, she crashed into the bathroom and fell to her knees in the first stall, heaving her guts out.

    Her stomach¡¯s contents were extremely acidic, and she gagged as her throat burned. After several dry heaves, she finally stopped retching and stood, stumbling to the sinks, where she rinsed her mouth again and again, staring into her own eyes reflected at her in the mirror. They were bloodshot and watery, and her face still looked flushed. She blinked away unshed tears and then shakily pushed herself upright, carefully smoothing her sweater, ensuring she hadn¡¯t gotten anything on it.

    Still shaky and still not feeling right, she walked to the restroom door, thankful that at least her nausea had passed with her vomiting. To her relief, Zane hadn¡¯t followed after her. Or, she supposed, if he had, he¡¯d missed her turning off to the restroom in the lobby.

    Walking toward the exit, she skirted the people talking in little clusters and hugged the wall with her head down. She held up her right hand, saw it was still shaking, and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. She¡¯d just stepped out onto the busy sidewalk, shivering a little with the night chill, when a message popped up on her AUI.

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Addie, I¡¯m so sorry about tonight. I¡¯m an idiot¡ªI don¡¯t typically work with these things, and I didn¡¯t know that could happen to you. I know you feel rotten right now, but you¡¯ll probably feel fine by morning. I know what you feel like; in my training, they did this to me regularly¡ªgave me too much Dust, I mean. It¡¯s a good way to build up your tolerance. I swear I didn¡¯t intend that, though. I hope we can get together again soon. Anyway, an AutoCab is coming for you. I gave it your ping info.

    </blockquote>

    Addie stared at the message for several long seconds, trying to decide if she should be upset with Zane. With a resigned sigh, she mentally typed out a reply:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: Thanks for trying to show me a nice evening. Sorry, I ruined it. Message me in a day or two, and we can try again.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°JJ, turn on do not disturb.¡±

    ¡°Done.¡±

    ¡°Shoot, leave a port open for an AutoCab.¡± Addie wasn¡¯t in any shape to walk back home, and if Zane was going to give her a fifty-bit cab ride, she wouldn¡¯t argue. She watched the curb, leaning against the building to the left of the automated doors, and when an AutoCab pulled up and JJ told her it was hers, she hurriedly slipped inside.

    AutoCab was a brand name for fully autonomous cabs, and the interior contained a single bench seat that encircled the entire space, save for the area where the door opened. Addie hadn¡¯t ever been inside one all by herself, and it felt strange in there, sitting in the back with so much space, but she was grateful for it. ¡°Destination?¡± the cab¡¯s AI asked.

    Addie had JJ forward her address, and then the vehicle started moving. Another wave of nausea washed over her, and her forehead broke out in a cold sheen of sweat. She groaned and leaned back, honestly feeling like she had a bad flu. Suddenly feeling very hot, she groaned, ¡°Open a window, please.¡±

    ¡°Madam, the outside temperature is twelve-point-eight Celsius. Are you certain?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    The window beside her slid down, and cold air blew into Addie¡¯s face, bringing instant relief. She leaned her head against the window bracket, letting the breeze hit her more fully, and it felt amazing¡ªlike it was wicking away the heat that wanted to boil her inside her own skin. ¡°Cab, is there a limit on my fare?¡±

    ¡°No, madam, this cab was ordered using the Boxer corporate account and has an open-ended authorization. You may travel as far as you like.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then, don¡¯t take me directly to my destination. Drive for a while, but don¡¯t go outside the district.¡±

    ¡°Yes, madam. Initiating pleasure cruise mode. Is there music you¡¯d like me to play?¡±

    ¡°Something relaxing,¡± Addie replied, yawning. ¡°You can put the window up halfway.¡±

    ¡°Yes, madam.¡± The window slid smoothly upward, letting in just enough of the cool breeze to keep Addie comfortable. Soft, soothing instrumental music filled the cabin, blending with the gentle hum of the electric motor as the cab began its leisurely route through the district.

    ***

    Tony looked up from his study of the PAI chips he¡¯d pulled from the bangers when a knock sounded on the door to the storeroom. It was coming from the door leading up to Bert¡¯s apartment. He gathered the chips and stuffed them into the bunched blankets beside him. ¡°Yo, I¡¯m decent.¡± He was still wearing his clothes, not ready to turn in for the night despite the lack of things to do.

    The door opened, and Bert stepped through, wearing a mismatched pair of gray and blue sweats. ¡°Hey, Tony, have you heard from Addie?¡±

    Tony narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in confusion. ¡°Thought she was up there with you.¡±

    ¡°I thought she was up there when I turned in, too. When I saw she wasn¡¯t, I figured she¡¯d come home any minute, but it¡¯s after nine, and I can¡¯t get ahold of her. I¡¯m getting her ¡®do not disturb¡¯ message from her PAI.¡±

    ¡°Is it unusual for her to be out after nine?¡±

    ¡°Not terribly, but she told me she was just going for a bite, and if she changed her plans, it¡¯s not like her not to send a message.¡±

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Tony sat up on the side of his cot and rubbed his chin. ¡°I know a dad doesn¡¯t want to think about stuff like this, but maybe she¡¯s, like, with someone. You know what I mean?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Bert shook his head, scratching at his stubble as though Tony¡¯s chin-scratching had triggered a sympathetic itch. ¡°She¡¯s not with anyone like that, and if she met someone, again, it¡¯s not like her not to at least tell me she¡¯ll be out late.¡±

    ¡°All right.¡± Tony reached for his sneakers, pulling them close. ¡°She say where she went to eat?¡±

    ¡°Oh, hey, I wasn¡¯t asking you to go looking¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m bored, and I¡¯m not tired. It¡¯s not a big deal.¡± On the off chance that Addie was just blocking her dad for some reason, he sent her a quick message:

    <blockquote>

    Tony: Yo, where are you?

    Addie: I¡¯m sorry, but Adelaide Jones isn¡¯t receiving messages at the moment. This message will be delivered when she is available.

    </blockquote>

    Tony snorted at the canned response. She hadn¡¯t customized the note at all. Meanwhile, Bert was answering his question: ¡°¡­and also sometimes she likes to get noodles, but she didn¡¯t say exactly where she was going. She offered to get me something, but I said I had leftovers. That¡¯s another reason I thought she was coming right home.¡±

    Tony stood, pushing his heels into his shoes, then stepped over to Bert, firmly grasping his shoulder. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s probably nothing, Bert. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine, but I¡¯ll see if I can find her. You happen to see which way she walked?¡±

    Bert frowned, squinting into nothing, then nodded. ¡°She crossed in front of the window, so left.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go ask around¡ªpoke my head into a few shops. Everyone knows her.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°Did you check her news page?¡±

    Bert nodded morosely. ¡°Sure did, buddy. Nothing new.¡±

    Tony gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll lock the door behind me. You got my contact info, right?¡± Tony had given Bert his new messaging ID earlier in the evening.

    ¡°I got it. Thanks, Tony. I¡¯m going to call around to some of our friends and see if anyone saw her. I¡¯ll message you if I find out anything.¡±

    ¡°Perfect.¡± Tony flashed another smile, then walked out of the storage room, through the shop, and out the door. He rearmed the locks and alarm before turning to scan the street, left and right, hoping to catch Addie strolling happily back to the shop¡ªno such luck.

    The truth was that Tony was worried about her. Not so much because she was out after nine¡ªno big deal in his book¡ªbut because of how she¡¯d acted after the ambush in the alley. She¡¯d been a little traumatized, and now she was out with her PAI set to refuse connections and no word to her dad. He hoped she hadn¡¯t had some kind of breakdown.

    He opened his chat window with her again and scrolled up, reviewing what she¡¯d said to him earlier that evening:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: Thanks so much, Tony, but I¡¯m going to meet a friend. Catch up with you later?

    </blockquote>

    ¡°A friend¡­¡± So, she hadn¡¯t been just going out for a bite by herself. What friend, though? As far as Tony knew, she didn¡¯t have any friends.

    Nobody on the sidewalk made eye contact with him, and though pedestrian traffic was light, the street was busy with cabs, cars, and trucks¡ªmore than he usually saw during the day. He supposed it made sense. Boxer probably ran twenty-four hours of shifts, but he¡¯d bet more people in the district were off work in the evening than in the daytime.

    With no other ideas, he opened up his calling app, selecting Maisie¡¯s uncle, Troy, from his very limited contact list. It beeped three times before a window flickered into existence in Tony¡¯s upper left-hand field of view, depicting Troy¡¯s grizzled beard, hard eyes, and thick neck. ¡°Ah, Tony. I wondered who had the balls to reach out with an unverified ID. What¡¯s up? Looking for work?¡±

    ¡°Hey, Troy, I¡¯m sorry to bug you out of the blue like this, but I was hoping I could get Maisie¡¯s contact info from you. I¡¯m working on something, and I was hoping she might be able to help.¡±

    ¡°Nothing dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Nah, not at all. I just wanted to ask her a question.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be calling me so you could hook up with my niece, would you?¡± Troy¡¯s heavy gray brows narrowed dangerously.

    Tony groaned and shot his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. ¡°Nah, man, seriously. I just don¡¯t know anyone in the damn district, and I was hoping she could tell me the names of some of the people Addie hangs out with.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right, right. Tell you what, I¡¯ll call her, and if she wants to talk to you, she¡¯ll contact you. Cool?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like ice, man. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°No worries. Talk to you soon.¡± The call window flickered and disappeared, and Tony kept walking, panning his eyes left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Addie or someone he¡¯d seen her talking to in the last few days.

    He wished he had a decent PAI installed so he could run a facial recognition routine. Back in the storeroom, he had the three chips he¡¯d taken from the bangers, but there was no way he was gonna stick some random street thug¡¯s PAI into his head. If one of them turned out to be a decent model, he¡¯d have to have a pro clean it and do a factory reset. He¡¯d rather just sell or trade them, in any case.

    He kept walking, kind of meandering toward the street where Golden¡¯s was. On Boxer Day, Addie had given him a little tour, pointing out shops and restaurants she liked. He¡¯d even met some of the owners, and they seemed friendly to her. He supposed it was as good a place to start as any. He¡¯d gone another block when an incoming call flashed, and he stared at it until the window expanded, revealing Maisie¡¯s face.

    She sniffed and rubbed at her eye, and Tony thought she looked a little flushed. In fact, when she lowered her hand and smiled, it seemed forced, and he swore he saw tears in her eyes. ¡°Hey, Tony. My uncle called¡ªsaid you were looking for me?¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah, but if it¡¯s a bad time¡­¡±

    ¡°No, uh-uh. I just had a fight with my cousin, that¡¯s all. Sorry.¡± She wiped her nose again, sniffing. ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s up? Did you want to get together?"

    ¡°Yeah, sure, I¡¯d like that, but right now isn¡¯t great. I know she¡¯s not exactly your friend anymore, but Addie¡¯s kind of missing.¡±

    ¡°Kind of?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I mean, I think we¡¯re overreacting, well, Bert is. She went out for dinner a few hours ago, and now we can¡¯t get ahold of her. She said she was meeting a friend. Any idea who that could be?¡±

    ¡°Oh boy!¡± Maisie blew out a pent-up breath, shaking her head with a rueful smile. ¡°Calling me about another girl, huh?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m just teasing. I know how Bert is. Let me think¡­¡±

    Tony moved to the left, pressing his shoulder against a nearby building to avoid blocking the pedestrian flow. He watched Maisie ¡°thinking,¡± staring at the side of her face where he swore he saw some blurry artifacts. Was she using a filter? He supposed it wouldn¡¯t be that unusual to do when forced to talk face-to-face with someone at an inopportune time.

    Cameras in retinas already made up about half the image they presented to callers. Tony knew they¡¯d do some infrared capturing using tiny emitters and detectors within the retina to map the contours of the wearer¡¯s face, but most of the details were filled in from stored biometric data. He also knew that almost all retina software would scan the environment for reflections, compiling that data to build a more accurate, up-to-date image of the user for things like this video call. Was Maisie¡¯s software trying to filter something out? Or maybe it was trying to add in a detail?

    His musing was cut short when Maisie nodded and smiled. ¡°I bet I know where she is.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a sandwich shop just outside the neighborhood. Luke¡¯s. She didn¡¯t really like the food all that much, but she has an old friend who¡¯s always working the counter¡ªPeanut, I think. Sometimes, she¡¯d go there and chat with him for hours and hours, especially when she was bothered about one of her stories or something. I¡¯d start there, Tony. I¡¯ll send you a pin.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t have a PAI yet, and this communication chip doesn¡¯t have a map. Can you just give me directions?¡±

    ¡°Um, sure. You know how to get to Golden¡¯s, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep, I¡¯m close.¡±

    ¡°Okay go two blocks past Golden¡¯s, walking toward the NGT tower. At the second block, turn left, go three blocks, and you¡¯ll see Luke¡¯s on the corner.¡±

    ¡°Golden¡¯s, two blocks toward NGT, left for three blocks. Got it.¡± Tony stopped leaning on the building and stretched his legs into a ground-devouring pace. ¡°Thanks, Maisie. Can I buy you lunch or a coffee or something tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°That would be nice, Tony. Um¡­¡± She trailed off for a moment, sniffing, then smiled and added, ¡°Good luck.¡± With that, the call window closed, and Tony was left frowning, wishing he knew what was wrong with her. It didn¡¯t seem like a spat between cousins. His concern was driven to the back of his mind when he saw a group of bangers hanging out on the corner near Golden¡¯s. He stuck to the far side of the street, tucked his hands in his pockets again, and slouched, trying to blend in with the other pedestrians.

    He''d only made it halfway down the block when a booming voice called out, ¡°Yo! Corpo-rat!¡± It was Beef. Tony turned, still moving, taking backward steps, and waved at the group of bangers. Beef laughed and waved, more a shooing motion, really, and Tony just smiled and got moving, relieved that the Helldogs didn¡¯t feel like messing with him at the moment.

    He turned left when he was supposed to, hurrying his steps, not liking that the street was a lot less busy than the ones he''d just traversed. Almost no one was walking on the sidewalks, and the vehicle traffic was sparse. Ahead, he could see more lights, though, and he just motored on, keeping his head on a swivel, looking for trouble or Addie as he went.

    He passed the first intersection, then the next, without any problem, and when he was halfway toward the next block, he thought he could see yellow neon letters spelling Luke¡¯s, but the bottom half of the S was broken. It was a quieter, darker, rougher-seeming neighborhood, and he was awash with relief when he reached the brightly lit corner and crossed the street to the little restaurant.

    A couple of guys who looked like they might be bangers stood outside, chatting, eating paper-wrapped sandwiches, but they didn¡¯t even look at him. Tony paused by the door, peering through the glass, hoping to catch a glimpse of Addie. If he saw her, he figured he might just hang outside, waiting for her to leave. Then, he could ¡°accidentally¡± bump into her and offer to walk her home. He didn¡¯t want to interrupt if she was chatting with her friend in there.

    All he saw were six booths, three on each side of the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, and a counter for ordering. A few people, mostly wearing denim and leather, sat at the tables, but he didn¡¯t think he could see Addie.

    ¡°Gonna stand there all night?¡±

    Tony glanced over his shoulder to see a stocky guy with cheap, gray synth-flesh covering half his face. Tony cleared his throat and pulled the door open, ringing a bell attached to the top. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m going in.¡±

    He stepped inside, and the big guy took the door, nodding and following him. Tony walked up to the counter and saw a young man, maybe early twenties, with sandy brown hair tucked into a hairnet. He was working alone, just as Maisie had said. Tony tapped his knuckles on the counter and asked, ¡°Hey, are you Peanut?¡±

    The kid smiled, revealing a missing pair of teeth on the right side of his jaw. ¡°That¡¯s me! We met?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m a friend of¡ª¡±

    The bell chimed violently as the door was shoved open, and a familiar gruff voice interrupted him, ¡°Hey, funny meeting you here, Tony.¡± With a sinking sensation in his gut, Tony turned to see Troy standing there, a heavy pistol in his hand and a grim smile on his face. ¡°Kinda outside your neighborhood, though. This is Black Jade territory.¡±

 1.26 Hot Water

    26 ¨C Hot Water

    ¡°¡­respond so that I may update the status of your welfare.¡± The voice came to Addie as she ran from the Tenneson building to the Yang-Grey building, where Boxer students received their music lessons. She could hear the synth teacher¡¯s music playing through the speakers, ever-present during passing periods, meant to put the students in the proper mood for his lessons. She liked music class, unlike most of her friends. Mr. Cadena, their teacher, was nice and liked to talk about a song¡¯s place in history. Addie always found the little vignettes entertaining.

    ¡°Excuse me, madam, but I must insist on a response, or I¡¯ll be forced to request aid from emergency services.¡± This time, the voice was louder and clearer, and Addie¡¯s eyes flew wide as she almost violently inhaled, her bleary vision revealing the matte-gray interior of a vehicle.

    ¡°Wha-what¡¯s¡­¡± She licked her dry lips and straightened, looking around the large, circular interior. Peering through the tinted glass, she thought she saw Mr. Nguyen¡¯s corner store. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Excellent. I¡¯m pleased you found your transit restful, madam. We¡¯ve arrived at your destination.¡±

    Addie¡¯s memories were fighting to reorganize themselves in her mind, straightening into the proper linear patterns. She remembered her dinner with Zane, the weird ¡°test,¡± her flight from the restaurant, and then getting in the cab. She peered out the window, noting the steam rising from the sewer grates, the empty sidewalk, and the lack of traffic on the street. ¡°What time¡ª¡± she started to ask but glanced at the clock on her AUI and saw the faint amber numerals: 12:03 AM. ¡°Oh, no!¡±

    ¡°Is something amiss, madam?¡±

    ¡°No. Thanks.¡± Addie scooted over to the door, touched the open button, and, as soon as it slid to the side, she clambered out. ¡°JJ, do I have messages?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m currently holding nineteen messages for you.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t¡­Oh shit!¡± Addie had forgotten to turn off her ¡°do not disturb¡± setting. ¡°Turn off my DND and tell me who they¡¯re from.¡±

    ¡°One from Zane Kovalenko, one from Tony, two from Maisie Larson, and the rest are from your father.¡±

    ¡°Oh shoot, shoot, shoot!¡± Addie hissed, hurrying to the front door of her father¡¯s store. She punched in the code, it beeped, the lock clicked open, and she pulled the door wide, hurrying inside.

    ¡°Addie?¡± Her father¡¯s weary voice came to her from the direction of the counter, and she peered through the dim space, lit only by the neon signs shining through the windows. He sat on a stool, slumped on the counter, a bulky shadow among other shadows.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, dad! I fell asleep!¡±

    ¡°Oh, sweetie, I was so worried!¡± Her dad stood, pushing the stool back, and hurried around the counter to meet her halfway, crushing her into a warm embrace, the kind of hug that could push all worries out of her mind and make her feel like everything was all right.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she muttered into his chest as he stroked the back of her head, pressing her close.

    ¡°Nothing terrible happened. Just a little lost sleep for your old man. Let¡¯s get ahold of Tony and tell him to stop looking.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s out looking for me?¡± Addie pushed her arms against her father¡¯s broad chest, scowling up into his face.

    ¡°He¡¯s doing it for me, sweetie.¡±

    Addie felt hot embarrassment warming her neck and cheeks as she blinked at him. ¡°I¡¯m not a little kid¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know, sweetie, but your PAI was offline, and you said you were just going for a bite. Be reasonable.¡±

    Addie nodded, stepping toward the counter, suddenly very thirsty. She opened the mini fridge and pulled out a pouch of fruit-flavored electrolytes. ¡°I¡¯ll message him.¡± As she tore the tab off the pouch nozzle, she opened her message app and selected Tony¡¯s name, reviewing his last message:

    <blockquote>

    Tony: Addie. Yo, where are you?

    </blockquote>

    Groaning, again feeling the heat of embarrassment, she mentally typed a response:

    <blockquote>

    Addie: I¡¯m so sorry, Tony. I fell asleep. You can come home.

    </blockquote>

    Almost immediately, a response appeared:

    <blockquote>

    HCS Messaging Service: The messaging device you are attempting to contact is no longer online.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Dad, when was the last time you heard from Tony?¡±

    ¡°I sent him a couple of messages around nine-thirty, letting him know I hadn¡¯t heard anything from the folks in my chat groups.¡±

    ¡°Oh my gosh, Dad! You got the whole neighborhood looking for me?¡±

    ¡°Addie, we were worried! How do you fall asleep ¡®going for a bite,¡¯ anyway? Why¡¯d you turn your connections off?¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± Addie groaned and shook her head, staring at the messages blinking on her AUI. She waved away the ones from her dad, then opened the one from Zane:

    <blockquote>

    Zane K: Hey, Addie. Just wanted to be sure you were home and feeling better. Please message me when you can.

    </blockquote>

    Frowning, wondering what Maisie could possibly want, she swiped Zane¡¯s window away and opened those messages:

    Maisie: Addie, we need to talk. I did something terrible.

    Maisie: Seriously! This is an emergency!

    ¡°JJ, add timestamps to my messages.¡±

    <blockquote>

    22:04 - Maisie: Addie, we need to talk. I did something terrible.

    23:49 - Maisie: Seriously! This is an emergency!

    </blockquote>

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Addie?¡± Her Dad¡¯s voice was full of concern, but a touch of anger edged the words. He was about to bring out the old Bert.

    ¡°Tony¡¯s messaging chip is offline. Hang on.¡± Addie sent Maisie a response:

    <blockquote>

    00:17 ¨C Addie: What¡¯s going on?

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Hey, you weren¡¯t kidding. I just got an automated response¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dad, I think something happened to him.¡± Addie realized her heart was racing as she turned and hurried to the back of the shop.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°To get my backpack!¡±

    ¡°Addie, you can¡¯t go¡­¡± The rest of her dad¡¯s words were lost on her as she raced up the stairs to their apartment. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was going to do, but she felt like she had to do something, and she wanted to have Humpty along. Her message window flashed, and she opened it:

    <blockquote>

    00:19 ¨C Maisie: My uncle made me trick Tony. He thinks he¡¯s hiding more tech or that he¡¯s here undercover for some corporation. I¡¯m stuck in our apartment; he¡¯s got one of the Jades watching me. I¡¯m sure he took him to the Den. I¡¯ve been in there a few times. I can send you the layout.

    </blockquote>

    Addie stared at the message for several long seconds, trying to wrap her head around it. The Black Jades had taken Tony? Hadn¡¯t he done them a favor? Wasn¡¯t he friends with Troy and Maisie? It seemed Maisie wanted to make it right, but¡­could Addie even trust her? Was she trying to lure her into some kind of¡ªNo, that was stupid. Maisie and the bangers in the area had known Addie her whole life; if they wanted to hurt her, they¡¯d have done it by now. Maisie¡¯s offer to help might be genuine. Even so, what the heck was she going to do? The ¡°Den¡± was a Black Jade chapterhouse. There were probably twenty or more of them in there at any given time. She sent a response:

    <blockquote>

    00:20 ¨C Addie: What am I supposed to do with this? Can¡¯t you talk your uncle down? Is he going to hurt him?

    </blockquote>

    A response came through immediately, followed by a longer one as Addie read it:

    <blockquote>

    00:20 ¨C Maisie: He hasn¡¯t been the same since Peaches died.

    00:20 ¨C Maisie: He¡¯s paranoid and violent, and his lieutenants are trying to push him into grabbing more territory. I don¡¯t know what you can do, but it¡¯s more than I can! They won¡¯t let me leave the apartment, and, no, he won¡¯t listen to me! He dismisses everything I say like I¡¯m a little kid or, worse, a horny, lovesick idiot. I made the mistake of telling him I liked Tony, thinking it would get him to back off.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    </blockquote>

    Addie mouthed the last sentence, shaking her head, unsure how she felt about Maisie confessing her feelings about Tony. She grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder, sending a response:

    <blockquote>

    00:21 ¨C Addie: Send me everything you have¡ªanything you think might be helpful. Try to stall your uncle somehow.

    </blockquote>

    Addie¡¯s feet pounded on the stairs as she hurried down to the storeroom and out into the shop. Her dad was there, arms folded, scowling. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I have to help Tony. The Black Jades have him.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no!¡± He moved into the central aisle, blocking the path to the door. ¡°Those guys are nasty business, honey. They make half their money from kidnappings!¡±

    ¡°Dad! They took him while he was out looking for me! I won¡¯t do it alone. I¡¯m going to talk to Beef.¡±

    ¡°Why would Beef¡­¡± His words faded away as he stared at her, slowly nodding. ¡°He has a thing for you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, maybe, and, anyway, the Helldogs don¡¯t exactly love the Black Jades.¡±

    ¡°Did they take him on Helldog turf?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ll keep you updated.¡± While she spoke, Addie sidled around him, and he didn¡¯t move to stop her. ¡°I promise.¡±

    ¡°Okay, give me a minute.¡± He turned and walked over to the locked display case where he kept the guns he had for sale.

    Addie watched him limp and sighed heavily. ¡°Dad! You can¡¯t come with; you could barely walk this morning!¡±

    ¡°Nonsense. That was yesterday morning, sweetie, and it hardly hurts anymore.¡±

    ¡°And if you have to run? Or crouch or crawl through a small space? If you have to move quietly? Dad, I love you, but you¡¯re not in shape to sneak into the Den and rescue someone!¡±

    Her dad slammed one of his meaty fists into the counter, bending the plasti-glass inward with the impact. ¡°Dammit, honey! He was out there because he was trying to make me happy.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Addie moved to stand beside him, wrapping her arms around his big belly. ¡°It¡¯s my fault, though. Let me make it right, Daddy. The Helldogs will keep me safe.¡±

    He stroked her hair for several seconds, took a deep breath through his nose, and nodded. ¡°I wish I could tell you to stay home, but I know you¡¯re right to want to help him. Just don¡¯t do anything stupid, sweetie. It won¡¯t make anyone feel better if you get yourself hurt along with him. I mean, assuming they¡¯re going to hurt him.¡±

    Addie nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m going to talk to Beef.¡± She squeezed him one more time, then hurried to the door and out, breaking into a run as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk. She didn¡¯t look back.

    ***

    The guy gripping his arm, guiding him along, jerked him to the left, and propelled Tony into a warmer, echoey space that smelled like machine oil, chem-sticks, and fast food. He heard a rolling bay door being cranked up or down¡ªdown, he decided, as it crashed against the ground and the sounds of the city grew muffled. ¡°This where you take all your dates?¡± Humor was his go-to when he was nervous, outgunned, or dealing with someone who thought they were the king shit. At the moment, all three applied.

    ¡°Keep walking,¡± the goon growled, yanking his arm again, painfully twisting his wrist against the shrink-cord they¡¯d used to bind his hands behind his back. Tony was irritated about that¡ªmostly because he hadn¡¯t put up any sort of fight with Troy, figuring the guy just wanted a little lip service about respect and maybe a promise to work for him. He hadn¡¯t expected them to yank his comm chip, bind his hands, and throw a hood over his head. Then there was the whole Maisie thing.

    It made sense that they¡¯d known where to set up their ambush because of her. He tried to put himself in her shoes, tried to reason why she¡¯d do something like that, and then he remembered the tears in her eyes and the weird distortion on her filter. Troy had slapped her around. She¡¯d tricked him under duress¡ªit was the only thing that made sense. Well, he mentally corrected himself, not the only thing; she could be a lot more cold-blooded than he¡¯d figured. She could have been playing him from the start. She was the one who told her uncle about his fighting, right?

    His escort shoved him roughly, and something like plastic curtains slapped against him, tangling with his arms for a moment as he passed through into a much colder space. He could hear the whir of fans and the hum of machinery. Combined with the frigid temp, he guessed he was in a walk-in fridge. So, a food processing facility? A shipping transit station? A warehouse? The cold muzzle of a large-bore pistol pressed under his chin pushed all other thoughts from his mind.

    ¡°Hold still while we change your cords.¡±

    Tony didn¡¯t want to nod¡ªwho knew if this idiot had his meaty finger on the trigger? Instead, he said, through clenched teeth, ¡°Okay.¡± Someone sprayed something cold on the shrink-cords. Tony felt them loosen as a chemical tang that made his eyes water wafted up. A couple of seconds later, they fell away, clattering on the ground.

    ¡°Put your hands in front of you,¡± the pistol wielder grunted. Tony complied, and new cords were looped over his wrists and activated, contracting to squeeze his flesh and hold his hands tight together. A moment later, someone grasped the cords, yanked his arms up over his head, and hooked them onto something. Someone else pressed a button, and Tony was hoisted up until he had to stand on his tiptoes. He hated that, but he was happy to feel the guy pull the gun away from his chin.

    The sounds of several pairs of boots stomping away told Tony he¡¯d been left alone, or, if not alone, then with a much smaller entourage. ¡°Anyone there?¡± he asked, grunting as he tried to lower his heels and found the pull of the shrink-cord on his flesh-and-blood wrist too painful.

    He wondered if he could snap that shrink-cord with his cybernetic arm. He¡¯d have to pull against whatever they¡¯d hooked it to, and shrink-cords were rated for something like a thousand pounds of resistance. No, if he pulled that hard with his cybernetic arm, assuming it could generate enough force without separating from his upper arm, it would probably rip his other hand off in the process.

    He hung there for a long time, but something told him not to make any kind of move. He had to constantly fight the urge to pull himself up so he could get a feel for his restraints, but he held off. Something in his gut told him he wasn¡¯t alone. Someone was watching him, waiting to pounce and teach him a lesson. Something like a half hour went by, and Tony began to believe he might really be alone, but then boots on concrete approached, the curtains flapped, and a voice behind him said, ¡°He didn¡¯t move. Think he might be out.¡±

    Tony felt the newcomer''s presence as he moved to stand before him. He was a heavy breather, his exhalations hissing out of his nostrils. ¡°Uncomfortable?¡± The voice was easy to recognize, gravelly and thick, spoken from a deep chest¡ªMaisie¡¯s uncle.

    ¡°Troy, this is a shitty way to say thanks for helping you make some quick bits betting on fights.¡±

    ¡°See? That¡¯s it, right there. You¡¯re too damn cool, Tony. Is that your real name?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Tony¡¯s my name, short for Anthony. Can you lower this thing a little? I¡¯m happy to answer your questions from a chair or, hell, even just standing on my entire feet. Also, this hood¡ªit¡¯s getting stuffy.¡±

    ¡°Stuffy, huh? You¡¯re in some hot water, boyo.¡±

    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s cold as hell in here.¡± Tony regretted the quip as soon as it slipped out of his mouth. Something warned him that a punch was incoming¡ªmaybe a waft of air or the soft grunt of the puncher. Whatever it was, he tensed his abdomen just in time as a fist crunched into him below his left ribs. It hurt, but not terribly, but Tony knew better than to act unfazed. He blew out his breath and grunted in pain, putting on a show for Troy and whoever else might be watching.

    ¡°Stop being a smartass,¡± Troy growled. ¡°Who are you working for?¡±

    ¡°Bert. I¡¯m doing odd jobs at his¡ª¡± This time, Tony failed to tense up his core before the punch hit home and he really did gasp, cough, and struggle to get his breath back. The guy had hit him right in the solar plexus, and though Tony had been hit like that a thousand times, it still sent a jolt of panic through his brainstem when he tried to breathe, and nothing happened for several long, painful seconds.

    Troy¡¯s boots squeaked on the concrete as he moved behind him and leaned close, his breath hot on Tony¡¯s neck. ¡°You better start getting smart, Tony, or I¡¯m going to have Stevie, here, get out his tools.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not lying, man. If you want to know who I used to work for, go ahead and look up Cross Corporation. They¡¯re in New Manhattan, and I bet you can find me on some archived corporate pages under contributing consultants or listed as an independent contractor. I handled private security operations¡ªrisk assessments, asset protection, executive coverage, and, yeah, some off-the-books stuff that got pretty dirty.¡±

    ¡°So? What? They just ripped your gear and dumped you down here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Internal politics. I, uh, offended the CEO.¡± Tony groaned and let himself hang from his wrists to give his calves a rest. ¡°I¡¯m serious, man. I¡¯m not hiding shit. Take me down, and I¡¯ll tell you whatever.¡±

    ¡°I dunno. I think you¡¯re hiding something pretty decent. You got a thing or two under the hood that your old buddies didn¡¯t rip, don¡¯t you? Some kind of neural mesh, maybe? A fightlink? Warware? Adreno-booster? You got some wired-up reflexes? You sure seemed to heal fast from that tenderizing you took at Golden¡¯s¡ªgot some medical nanites? No need to answer. Foxy¡¯s gonna be here soon with a proper scanner. Meantime, I¡¯ll check out your story.¡±

    The sounds of two sets of boots on concrete told Tony he was probably alone unless there was another silent witness in the cold room. He wasn¡¯t an idiot; he was sure they had cameras on him, but that didn¡¯t stop his mind from spinning down a hundred different avenues, trying to think of a way out of his mess. Any progress he made was cut short by his self-criticism. He¡¯d gotten sloppy. He¡¯d gotten arrogant. What was he thinking¡ªwalking around in the dark in the worst district in the metroplex?

    Sure, he¡¯d met plenty of nice folks in the Blast, but he¡¯d also been attacked multiple times. Was he just rusty? Was he coasting, waiting for some random banger to finish the job Eric started? With a growl and a grimace of pain, he pulled himself up until the top of his head touched his hands, then he gripped the hood¡¯s material with his cybernetic fingers and let himself down, slipping the hood off his head.

    He''d been right to think he was in some kind of cooler. Stainless steel walls met his gaze, and a plastic curtain flapped in the faint breeze of the blower. Tony glanced left and right and saw blood-stained refrigerated cases stacked along the left wall and, on the right, a stainless steel table with a dozen implements for cutting flesh lining the wall above it. His situation suddenly snapped into crystal-clear focus; these assholes were body harvesters, collecting organs, limbs, and cybernetics, and, no doubt, Dust-tech.

    A camera sat in the corner near the exit, its little red light a reminder that he had minutes or maybe only seconds to do something. He looked up at his hands and saw that his shrink-cord had been secured to a chain with a latch hook. It wasn¡¯t locked, but it would be hard for someone to slip off with that spring-loaded latch. Tony pulled with his arms and flexed his calves, sending himself up a quarter-meter or so.

    He grabbed the chain with his cybernetic hand, gripping it with everything he had. Then, with his other hand, he depressed the hook¡¯s latch and wriggled his wrist until the shrink-cord slipped through the opening. He let go and fell to his feet. Two seconds later, he was over at the table with all the cutting tools, but he didn¡¯t grab one. He snatched up the spray bottle of FlexiSolve¡ªa common brand name for a chemical catalyst that would reverse the tightening of the activated shrink-cords.

    He''d just pointed it at his left wrist when a red light began to flash outside the cooler, and an alarm sounded. They¡¯d noticed he was down. With cold anger icing his veins, Tony sprayed the shrink-cords and let them fall to the ground, then he looked at the wall of cutting implements. Nodding and smiling grimly, he snatched down a curved, serrated vibroblade meant for cutting bone. Gripping it firmly, he stalked over and reached up, twisting the camera to the ceiling. Then, he moved to the opposite corner of the cooler, between the flapping curtain and the wall, and waited.

 27. Ice Box

    27 ¨C Ice Box

    Beef¡¯s apartment was in a building only two blocks from Addie¡¯s, so she could already see the lights on his front stoop when he responded to her message. She slowed to a walk as she read what he had to say:

    00:29 Randal P: A little late for you to be up, isn¡¯t it, doll? What¡¯s with all the panic?

    Scowling, Addie sent him a quick response:

    00:30 Addie: Come outside!

    By then, she was approaching his stoop, and two of his goons were there, guys from outside the neighborhood she didn¡¯t know very well. One of them stood and focused his chrome eyes on her, his sore-covered lips splitting into a wide leer. ¡°Oh, look at this little snack, Buzz.¡±

    Buzz, a thin young man with so many facial tattoos that his skin looked like a page out of a net-toon, stood and flicked his tongue suggestively through fingers held up in a V. ¡°Mm-mm! My, my! Is this your new girl, Gob?¡±

    ¡°Get Beef,¡± Addie said, standing at the foot of the steps, folding her arms over her chest.

    ¡°Oh, she summons the boss! Why, of course, milady.¡± Buzz performed a surprisingly elegant bow, but then he snorted with laughter and, using the handrail for leverage, vaulted down the steps to land uncomfortably inside Addie¡¯s personal space. She stumbled back, scowling.

    ¡°Beef won¡¯t like you messing with me, creep.¡±

    The other Helldog¡ªGob, apparently¡ªleaned against the building, grinning with schoolboy amusement at Buzz¡¯s antics. ¡°I think she likes you, Buzz!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think you¡¯re right, buddy boy!¡± Buzz sidled closer, snaking out a long-fingered hand bedecked with rings and pointy, black-painted nails to grab ahold of Addie¡¯s upper arm.

    She jerked against his grip, more repulsed by the thought of how filthy he seemed than worried he¡¯d do something to her¡ªnot before Beef figured out what was happening. ¡°Let go of me!¡± she snapped, unable to play it cool. ¡°Beef is gonna¡ª¡± The door to the apartment building slammed open and cut her words short.

    ¡°Let go of her, dipshit.¡± Beef, all hundred-thirty kilos of him, stomped down the steps, the metal plates on his boots clicking and grinding like construction machinery. Buzz released Addie and scampered away, standing halfway into the street as Beef glowered at him. He didn¡¯t give chase or shoot the guy, though. He just jerked his meaty thumb at Addie and said, ¡°She¡¯s off limits; I don¡¯t care what time of night. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Sure, boss.¡± Buzz shoved his hands in his pockets and, in a painful show of false nonchalance, strolled up the empty street, whistling softly to himself.

    Beef looked at Addie, his thick, too-moist lips folding downward in a frown. ¡°What the hell are you doing out here at this hour, Ads?¡±

    ¡°I need your help.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Beef¡¯s bushy eyebrows shot up.

    ¡°Yeah, the Black Jades took Tony.¡±

    ¡°Tony?¡± He looked over his shoulder at Gob. ¡°We know anyone named Tony?¡±

    ¡°I sure don¡¯t, boss.¡± The banger shrugged exaggeratedly, reaching up to fidget with his chrome, speaker-like ear, twisting the little grill left and right with tiny squeaks.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Beef, you know who I mean. Tony¡ªthe guy my dad just hired?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Corpo-rat? Yeah, I saw him earlier tonight, I think. Well, listen, doll, if the Jades have a problem with him, that¡¯s not really my problem, you know?¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re cool with the Black Jades nabbing people from our neighborhood?¡±

    ¡°Not cool, but it¡¯s not like corpo-rat was much of a citizen. He just got here. Besides, when I saw him earlier, he looked like he was motoring out of our turf. How¡¯s that my problem?¡±

    Addie scowled, looking up at him as she unfolded her arms and clenched her fists in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s my problem, Randal; he was looking for me! Besides, I thought you hated the Jades.¡± She knew calling him by his given name in front of his crew would irritate him, but she also knew it would remind him that they¡¯d been friends their whole lives¡ªlong before he was an enforcer for the Helldogs. Addie felt jittery and stressed, like she knew something terrible was about to happen and had to do something, but she wasn¡¯t exactly sure what. She needed help, and, like it or not, the Helldogs were the best she had¡ªthe lesser evil.

    Beef¡¯s frown intensified as he leaned down, his leather creaking, his chains jingling, to put his enormous head a few inches from Addie¡¯s. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that in front of my boys,¡± he growled.

    Knowing it would earn her some points, Addie reached for his ham-sized hand, grasping it with both of hers. ¡°Please, Beef? If you don¡¯t want to help Tony, fine, but do it for me? Do it for the Helldogs! You told me yourself the Jades have been encroaching!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, they have, but I ain¡¯t a shot caller, doll. I can¡¯t go to war for the Dogs.¡±

    Addie nodded, feeling tears of frustration brewing. Beef¡¯s hand wasn¡¯t just the size of a ham; it was also hot, like it just came out of the oven. She gave it another squeeze and nodded as she let go. ¡°Okay. Well, I have to try. I¡¯ll go see if I can reason with Troy.¡± She turned and started to walk away. Anticipation, fear, dread, guilt, and a hundred other feelings made the back of her neck and scalp tingle with a hot rush of blood as she took one step, then two, then three, and then Beef broke.

    ¡°Ah, for fuck¡¯s sake. Hold on, Ads.¡±

    ###

    The first banger to burst through the flapping curtain led with his shotgun barrel, and Tony grabbed it in his left hand, jerking him off balance as he brought the bone cutter down, its blade humming menacingly, into the side of his neck, showering himself and the plastic curtain in hot, crimson blood. Tony kept his grip on the shotgun as the man spastically pulled the trigger, sending a burst of buckshot into the metal ceiling.

    He lifted the sizeable vibroblade for another cut, but the banger let go of the gun, slapped a hand against his gushing neck, and fell to the ground, writhing weakly as he gasped for breaths that didn¡¯t want to come. Tony racked the shotgun, watching the ejector port to ensure a fresh shell fed into the chamber. It was an old, beat-up gun, and he didn¡¯t see an ammo counter or a data module¡ªnot that he had a PAI to interface with it.

    Tony moved to the opposite corner, darting past the curtain, grateful that the idiot bangers had stashed him in an ice-cold walk-in¡ªhe¡¯d be hard to see, even with thermals. He didn¡¯t think they¡¯d throw any grenades or improvised explosives into the space; judging by the coolers lining the wall, there was a good chance the bangers had a lot of expensive inventory in there with him. Considering the back wall had two stainless rolling cabinets, possibly filled with more expensive stuff, he hoped they wouldn¡¯t blindly fire through the curtain or walls, either.

    Tony was contemplating rolling those cabinets toward the blood-stained plastic curtain for cover when he heard Troy¡¯s voice calling, ¡°Yo, Tony! You fucked up, man. Was gonna offer you a chance to work for us if you came up clean. You got Julian in there? If you didn¡¯t kill him, we can still talk.¡±

    Tony glanced at the still, ashen face of the banger he¡¯d sliced¡ªJulian, he supposed. He decided not to reply; why give away his position? He stood ready, but then, with a clink-clink, a canister rolled into the cooler with him, already hissing yellow-white gas. ¡°Shit,¡± Tony sighed, taking a deep breath and closing his left eye. He had a cybernetic retina, but most of the eye was natural, and that gas looked a lot like Riot Rain¡ªa common crowd-dispersal gas that wouldn¡¯t feel great on his skin, let alone in his eye.

    Sure enough, his left arm began to tingle and burn as the fog enveloped him, but Tony doubled down, choking back his urge to breathe and smiling grimly as his new eye automatically adjusted to thermals. His body was cold as hell, but the bangers who might come into the space would be hot. He didn¡¯t have augmented ears anymore, but he could hear muttering outside. Troy would send someone in to check on him, maybe two someones. They¡¯d have masks, so Tony shifted his shotgun¡¯s muzzle down.

    The plastic curtain flaps rustled, and a red and orange thermal-painted figure stepped into the cooler, crouching like he was ready to fight. Tony waited for him to take a step with his right leg, then shot his inner thigh. A shotgun at close range against the femoral artery was pretty much as bad as slitting someone¡¯s throat. The gun roared, a stream of fire in Tony¡¯s thermal vision licked out and touched the guy¡¯s leg, and then more yellow, orange, and red spattered around the space, rapidly fading as the cold interior cooled the blood.

    The banger screamed, fell to the ground, and tried to scrabble backward, but Tony darted forward, wrapped his fingers around the base of his breather¡ªa full-sized riot mask¡ªand yanked it off before retreating deeper into the cooler. He nudged one of the stainless cabinets away from the wall and hunkered behind it before he pulled the mask on. Even then, he didn¡¯t breathe, giving the mask a few seconds to make its seal and pump out the gas that had gotten inside. All the while, the guy he shot wailed, now in agony from the Riot Rain as well as the gunshot.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The banger was only a couple of steps inside the cooler, but nobody came for him. No one darted through the curtain to grab his arm and haul him out. Nobody even called out to him. Tony figured they were communicating through their PAIs¡ªlikely linked up into a group comm channel¡ªbut he still shook his head in disdain. ¡°Chicken shits.¡± He¡¯d try to save a buddy in a similar situation, but he supposed the bangers¡¯ caution was warranted; he¡¯d shoot anyone who tried.

    As the fog cleared from inside his mask, Tony tried a small breath, and it tasted fine. He silently thanked the poor banger who¡¯d gone quiet, no doubt bled out into a coma or dead already. Tony took a minute to indulge himself by rubbing his palms over his arms; his skin was itching and burning from the gas. The big question was whether or not the bangers outside the cooler knew he¡¯d taken the other guy¡¯s mask. They had to assume so, right? If he were quiet, though, maybe they¡¯d think he¡¯d gone down.

    He stood behind the stainless cabinet, gun pointed toward the gently swaying plastic curtains, for several long seconds before Troy called out, ¡°Yo, Tony, that wasn¡¯t very nice. Adrien had a family.¡±

    Tony didn¡¯t respond, just stared, everything obscured by the thick, acidic gas that still hung in the air. He could see faint glimmers of heat outside the fridge as bangers moved around in the space beyond, but he wanted a clear shot. He wanted another kill. If these sons of bitches were going to wear him down, he¡¯d make them pay dearly. His patience paid off. A full minute after Troy finished speaking, one of the faint red outlines moved forward, growing brighter in his vision.

    Tony tracked the guy¡¯s head with his shotgun, certain they¡¯d armor-up whomever they sent in next. Even if they put a helmet on him, though, buckshot from three meters would crack it, and then the gas would finish the job. An involuntary shudder ran through him, and that¡¯s when he realized they¡¯d cranked down the temp.

    They were going to see if they could freeze him out. Why send this guy in, then? Just to be sure? The figure stepped into the cooler, and Tony realized his heat signature was off¡ªwarmer than the surroundings but too cool to be a person. No, this was a synth.

    Tony didn¡¯t care; synthetics were modeled after humans, and though they were resilient, their synthetic neural meshes were inside a skull not much more durable than a human¡¯s. Buckshot would do the trick. Tony let the synth get a few steps into the room, watched it stoop to check on one of the bodies, and then when it stood, he squeezed his trigger. The shotgun roared, fire lanced out in his thermal vision, and buckshot clicked and cracked against something a lot more resilient than a synthetic¡¯s skull.

    As the synth charged faster than any natural human, Tony racked another round and shifted to his left, sliding around the metal cabinet, hoping the thing couldn¡¯t see him very well. Something hummed, and metal clanging and grinding against metal echoed through the freezer. Then, he rounded the cabinet and came up behind the synth. He squeezed the trigger even as he lined the barrel up with the back of its head.

    Boom! From half a meter, the impact was devastating, and the synth lurched forward, slamming into the back of the walk-in. Tony didn¡¯t wait to see if it was dead. Before the shot''s echo faded, he racked another round and squeezed another shot off, again in the back of the synth¡¯s head. This time, a yellow spray in his thermal vision registered against the wall before rapidly fading to green and blue, and the synth collapsed, twitching.

    Tony racked a shell, but it sounded wrong, and when he opened the ejector port and stuck his finger in the chamber, he found nothing but empty space; he was out of shells. Another shudder ran through him, and he frowned, cursing his shitty Dust reactor and lack of a PAI. With his old setup, he could¡¯ve had his nanites counter the low temp, but they were power-starved, and he had no way to direct them. He squatted, set the gun down, and then ran his hands over the still-twitching synth, looking for its weapon.

    He traced his fingers down its right arm and found its fingers wrapped around a hard plastic handle. Tony gripped it and pulled it loose, then explored the implement with his other hand. His grin returned when he felt a familiar shape: a kinetic axe. He found the pressure switch on the haft where his thumb rested, knowing full well that if he held that down when he swung the weapon, it would discharge its energy capacitor, adding a force multiplier to the impact.

    ¡°Okay, going out swinging then,¡± he muttered, confident the breather wouldn¡¯t let anyone hear his words. He was pretty sure they were going to wait him out. The cold was getting untenable, so Tony decided he had to make something happen. He crawled on the metal floor to the front of the metal cabinet and then to the first of the two corpses blocking the path to the doorway. He dragged it to the side, then repeated the process with the other. By the time he returned to the metal cabinet, the gas was thinning in the air, adding to his urgency.

    He unlocked the brakes on the cabinet¡¯s casters, then did the same with the other. Grunting, shivering, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering, he pushed one cabinet halfway to the plastic curtain, then lined the other up behind it. Standing behind the two rolling cabinets, Tony gripped the kinetic axe, put his shoulder against the closest one, and heaved. He took five lunging steps, picking up speed, and when the first cabinet rolled out of the freezer, he wasn¡¯t surprised when a dozen guns roared.

    When the second cabinet cleared the curtain, he felt it hit something, heard someone grunt, and then the gunfire refocused on it, sending jolts and shudders through the metal. It felt like trying to hang onto a snare drum while a dozen drummers beat on it. Tony stopped short of the curtain, shoving the cabinet hard, darting to the side, again in the corner of the freezer.

    He waited until he heard the first sounds of mags running dry¡ªplastic clattering on concrete, men shouting, ¡°Out!¡± or ¡°Reloading!¡±¡ªand then he made his move. Tony pressed the arming button on the kinetic axe; it whined and hummed as he slipped through the curtain, taking in the scene.

    Maybe a dozen members of the Black Jades stood around the opening to the walk-in. Most were behind some sort of cover¡ªpallets, a battery-powered pallet jack, a stack of 200-liter drums, large wooden crates, and a rolling tool chest. They were in a warehouse, as Tony had guessed, and it was filled with stuff. The nearest cover was a stack of pallets to his left, and he darted that way immediately, rather pleased to see Troy standing there, eyes wide, racking the bolt on an AK-style automatic.

    As he ran past him, the banger shot-caller tried to lift the gun and bring it to bear, but Tony was fast, and Troy wasn¡¯t ready to see an axe coming at him. He vacillated between shooting, blocking, or maybe running, and it cost him dearly. Tony¡¯s axe hit him in the upper thigh, just where his femur met his pelvis. Troy was wearing jeans and chains under a heavy leather coat. If Tony had a sharp axe, he might have hurt him pretty badly, but he didn¡¯t have a just sharp axe; he was wielding a kinetic axe. As the blade hit home, it bucked in Tony¡¯s hand, zwapped, and blood and bone fragments sprayed out of the back of Troy¡¯s pants, his jeans shredded by the force wave.

    As Troy collapsed, trying to cry out in pain but finding no voice in his agony, Tony sprinted past him behind the stack of pallets and then darted between one obstacle after another as he tried to confound his pursuers.

    ###

    ¡°Ads, you¡¯re going to get me fried for this,¡± Beef groused, slapping the flat of his enormous cleaver against his open palm. Addie didn¡¯t respond; she felt guilty for manipulating him, but she¡¯d already promised herself she¡¯d try to make it up to him somehow, and definitely not the way he was hoping. She unzipped her bag and gently lifted Humpty out.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to get eyes in there and see what¡¯s going on. Did you start the group comms?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he grunted, flicking the air toward her. A ping sounded on her AUI, and she saw the invite. After accepting it, a comm window appeared, and she ran her eyes over the names: Beef, Buzz, Gob, Runt, Reject, Snatch, C-Ball, Thrash, and, last but not least, Addie. They were all Beef¡¯s boys¡ªHelldogs he was in charge of and could trust to keep their mouths shut if necessary, depending on what was about to go down.

    Humpty rose into the air, nearly silent with his Dust-tech gravity engine. Addie directed him toward the big warehouse where the Black Jades made their base, angling toward one of the high, paned-glass windows that were all half-open to allow warm air to vent out. They didn¡¯t need Addie to spot the two guards near the open bay door. What they needed to know was what to expect on the inside. Addie watched through Humpty¡¯s eyes as the windows drew near, and then she artfully guided him up and over the tilted glass pane.

    ¡°I¡¯m in.¡±

    ¡°Saw that,¡± Beef wheezed, leaning against the alley wall. He was enormous, true, but he wasn¡¯t exactly built for quick runs through the district. His boys were all gathered in the shadows around the alley, some armed with guns, some with stylized weapons like Beef¡¯s. Addie had no idea, in the grand scheme of things, how these bangers would stack up against the Black Jades; she just hoped they¡¯d catch them unawares and get Tony out before something terrible happened.

    She shifted her attention back to Humpty¡¯s feed. The inside of the warehouse was a jumbled mess of enormous shelving units, stacks of pallets, boxes, drums, and equipment. The heights were relatively empty, though, and Humpty¡¯s dark coloring and quiet movement made it easy for her to fly him around and get the lay of the land. She just wished JJ could interface with Dust-tech so she could feed him the footage and have him make a map.

    At first, it almost felt like the place was empty, but then she reached the back-left corner and saw a metal box that looked like it had once been on the back of a truck. Refrigeration units sat atop it, humming away, doing their job, but near the front end, where a plastic curtain blocked the interior, ten or more men in banger attire stood with weapons ready, watching the cooler. Addie frowned, narrating what she saw, ¡°Found them.¡± She carefully counted. ¡°Eleven bangers, but they¡¯re surrounding a cooler. I mean, they¡¯re staring at it like it¡¯s filled with monsters or something.¡±

    Beef grunted as he rubbed his chin. ¡°Eleven, huh? They saying anything?¡±

    Addie moved the drone closer, and that¡¯s when she saw that the plastic curtain leading into the refrigerated container was covered with blood, with a pool slowly spreading outward on the concrete. She saw Troy fastening a heavy black helmet on another banger, and then his voice came through Humpty¡¯s mics, ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Rosco. Just run in there, let the armor do its thing, and hack his fucking head off.¡± He handed the armored-up banger a heavy-looking black axe.

    ¡°Beef, I think Tony¡¯s in the cooler. They¡¯re sending an armored-up banger in there with an axe. Why would they¡ª¡±

    ¡°He must have a gun. Must¡¯ve overpowered his guards or something.¡± Beef chuckled, the sound deep and moist in his chest. He coughed up a wad of phlegm, then, after spitting, said, ¡°If they¡¯re all focused on that cooler, might be we can fucking make a move. Might be we can turn this shitshow into a glory ride. Shit, Ads, maybe I¡¯ll get a promotion if we can wipe these rats out.¡±

    ¡°I just want to get Tony out, Beef.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll try not to kill him.¡± Beef turned to his boys, and Addie saw her comms light up as he subvocalized, ¡°Snatch and C-Ball, do your thing.¡±

    Snatch¡¯s name lit up. ¡°Got it, boss. Firing in three¡­two¡­one.¡± The clicks of two silenced rifles sounded near the alley mouth, and the guards by the cargo bay door dropped.

    Beef trundled out of the alley, waving his hand, ¡°Let¡¯s go, boys! Ads, let me know if something changes inside!¡± Addie hurried to keep up, splitting her attention between Humpty¡¯s feed and her eyes. Standing still or walking while doing that wasn¡¯t much of a challenge, but running and trying to follow other people¡ªshe¡¯d have a headache later.

    As they passed the dead door guards, each with a pool of blood spreading around their heads, Addie tried not to own the guilt of their deaths. They were the ones who took Tony. They were bangers of the worst sort; the kinds of things the Black Jades got up to were the stuff of horror stories. No, she was the good guy here. She was here to help a friend. So, focusing on that thought, she watched as the armored banger went into the cooler and flinched when Humpty transmitted the sound of a very loud gun going off in there. ¡°Hang on, Tony! We¡¯re coming.¡±