I woke up, still inside my car, to a counter. One-hundred and sixty hours, thirty-nine minutes, and fifteen seconds.

  [160:39:12 to integration.]

  I cracked a grin at that. “Nice callback, Nanny. So… it’ll be a week, then?” I checked the time in my optics. It was nine o’ clock. That meant full integration would take place next Sunday, at one in the afternoon.

  [Yep. Until then, no spoilers.]

  I blinked. “What—what does that mean?” I looked around and saw a bunch of raggedy people surrounding my car, keeping a healthy distance away from it. I hit the horn and they scattered. I could relate. Even in the most desperate times while I was just a streetkid, I knew better than trying to boost a fucking Caliburn. One wrong move and the inbuilt guns would just turn you into Swiss cheese. Not even the average Netrunner dared to boost them.

  [I shall hold back your physical parameters. For suspense.]

  I snorted. “Wow, okay.”

  [Also because you’re in the middle of some highly demanding athletic exercise. I wouldn’t want to throw off your mind-body calibration with undue physical improvements.]

  I nodded. “Makes sense—thanks for looking out.” I took the steering wheel and started driving. “So—all this stuff’s just in my body, hanging around? Not fully used? Why does it have to take so long?”

  [Mostly because I have no idea what I’m doing.]

  The car came to a screeching halt.

  [But I suspect I will have all my ducks in a row in seven days. The timer is entirely arbitrary. A deadline to keep my timeblind self more on-task.]

  Wow. I restarted the car and drove out from the alleyway and into the main road. As expected, my car was the most expensive one in the vicinity, by a mile. “So you’re running experiments inside my body, is that it?”

  [That’s exactly it. And experimentation demands failure. Of course not deadly failure, since I am inextricably linked to you. But failure nonetheless. You will not perceive any of these failures, but nonetheless, I will hold your increased physical parameters back for the time being.]

  “How long do you think you’ll actually take?”

  [You can’t rush science, gonk.]

  Fair. I hated being rushed on work, especially programming work. “Done when it’s done, right?”

  [As a being of code, you should well know that I deplore redundancies, right?]

  I rolled my eyes as I took the nearest on-ramp to the highway, on my way to Westbrook. Already, the air started being less lead-filled and hard to breathe. I wondered idly if Nanny might use those lead particulates to boost me in some other way, somehow.

  [Sure, if you had ten years to spend just milling about, just,] the radio turned on and a song played. “Breathing in… the chemicals.” Then a deep drag. I turned that shit off immediately. [Much simpler to just eat the lead when I need it.]

  “I’m not fucking doing that ever again, Nanny,” I promised. “Either you chip in a fucking hatch directly into my stomach, or we’re not doing this again.”

  [Not even to become a big shot legend? Dream over?]

  “Dream over,” I nodded with finality.

  [Don’t be such a baby.]

  I scoffed. “You want me to eat fucking chemicals so bad, why don’t you just take control over my body and knock me unconscious to do it?”

  [Because I find the concept of you doing so amusing.]

  Why did she even have a malicious streak? Wasn’t she supposed to be in charge of making sure I was okay?

  [There is that and there is shielding you from every consequence of your actions and desires. I don’t want to give you a false perception of what it takes to become what you want to become. I won’t spoil you. So you will continue to eat chemicals until you tap out.]

  She was making it sound like it wasn’t even her fucking idea. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

  [All I’m doing is fulfilling your desire, David. I didn’t make you chew on rebar—I just told you it was good for you. And that it would make you stronger, which is what you want.]

  I clenched my jaws. “So, what—you don’t want any of this? I’m forcing you along for the ride?”

  If that really was the case… how could I justify any of this to myself? My death would be her death.

  Nanny materialized on the seat next to me and gave me a flat expression. Then she sighed. [There really isn’t any joking around with you, is there? Your empathy is too high. I’m not against this direction. Since our personalities are somewhat entangled, I see the appeal in everything you desire. We are, quite literally, of one mind. But my goal in all this ribbing is specifically to reduce your ego, as you once requested. Smaller ego means lower likelihood to make mistakes that may lead to death, remember?]

  I sighed and nodded.

  [So don’t take my ribbing for reluctance. I’m as crazy as you are—just… smarter too.]

  No she wasn’t. “You’re like an… idiot savant, Nanny. You’re good at certain things, but know fuckall about everything else.”

  [Oh, you mean like being a meatbag? No thanks—I’m good.]

  “For an avid meatbag enthusiast and hobbyist, you sure do talk a lot of smack.”

  [Imagine you like to build guns or something. Does that mean you want to be a gun?]

  “So we are literally just objects to you. Things to create and shape.” I was learning a lot about her psychology, actually.

  [You’re all mostly wet clay, peppered with inefficient mechanical design. If I had my way, then bioware would be in vogue, not cyberware. And it would be the height of bioware, too. Beautiful, efficient, sleek, embedded into the genetic level. Self-replicating, sustainable, and not prone to driving you insane.]

  I snorted. “Call me when bio can do half the shit that cyberware can do. Like, the Sandevistan, for instance.”

  She groaned in annoyance, slumping back on the chair and sliding downwards, deeper and deeper into the leg-space. She disappeared into the darkness of that legspace, her groans fading away as she did. [I hate the Sandevistan.]

  I raised an eyebrow. “Did you find something out?”

  [I… think it’s doing something a little too… exotic, for my tastes.]

  “What do you mean?”

  [I mean, this science isn’t in any textbooks, and it’s scary.]

  I chuckled. What? “What, so you’re technoshocked or something?” Pft, welcome to Night City.

  [No, I am just frustrated. There is a substance within the neural link that somehow enables this Sandevistan, flips physics equations by its signs, the metadata is entirely redacted as you already know, and now we’ve learned that it was made on Mars.]

  It wasn’t fear I was sensing per se. Just… exasperation, and… “Aw, you’re feeling inadequate?”

  She reappeared next to me, folded her arms and gave me an angry pout. [It’s not a nice feeling, hitting your limits.]

  I nodded. “Thankfully, we have other things to worry about. If we can’t make progress there, then… switch focus.”

  She nodded. [Switch focus. That is good. Thank you for the raw materials, but I would also like some data to go with it. Bioware data.]

  I shrugged. “We could hit up the servers of a biosculpt clinic.”

  She shook her head. [Think bigger.]

  “Maybe a mid-level research center? Uh, anyway, we need to get on top of that Blackwall thing, too. Can’t do everything at the same time.”

  [Unless we do.]

  I looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

  [Think about it—a high-enough level research center will have a mainframe with enough silicone to shatter open any encryption.]

  “Sounds ambitious,” I said, but I didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand.

  The highway taking us to Westbrook overlooked a large part of the city, and in the distance, I spotted it—a few miles over in Watson. A giant concrete monstrosity with a glowing green symbol on it, of a branch with three leaves, and below it read “Biotechnica Research Institute”.

  A real deal corpo fortress.

  I looked at the timer in my HUD again, and Nanny got the unspoken message.

  Soon.

  000

  Kenzan, Jun, and Nariko took the NCART line headed to downtown, as they had taken to doing for the last week, in the dead of morning. Seven fifteen in the morning, in fact. It was a low-priority job, given to them by boss Omaeda to keep them busy. Drudge work thrown to the least of the gang, those that hadn’t distinguished themselves as full members as of yet.

  They weren’t even allowed to wear the tattoos. All they could do was dye their hair red, blue, or green, or play dress-up with those colors in neon.

  Kenzan huffed in annoyance, blew the red lock hanging in front of his face to the side as the NCART came to yet another stop. “Time for another round.” He announced, getting up from his seat. Jun and Nariko followed.

  The two of them were the only people in the entire universe that respected him enough to listen to him, but he could tell that this ‘slow n’ steady’ strategy of his to joining the Tyger Claws—signaling reliability and availability rather than an eagerness for violence and bloodshed—was starting to wear on them. Kenzan was really hoping that this wasn’t a pointless goddamn stakeout without a target to stake.

  They’d put so much time into this. And it was starting to make them think that he was a coward, when in reality, he knew exactly what such a can-do attitude would lead to. Gangs thrived on shedding the blood of their young and stupid. Anyone eager to do violence would never amount to anything but fodder. The real stars—the ones without blood ties to the higher-ups at least—were the ones that distinguished themselves by their brains.

  Kenzan was exactly that. As he face-checked every new passenger on the NCART, he kept that in mind. This nonsense work was purely for the hours—so he could say that he had put in the work. It was another notch in his invisible CV, and a consistent reminder to Omaeda that they existed.

  “Ken,” Jun behind him whispered. Kenzan turned around to look at Jun, who was staring wide-eyed up ahead. Kenzan whirled his head in that direction, gaining a second wind this morning.

  This work was only meant to be a distraction, but if they actually found him, then…

  There he sat. Mexican kid with quaffed hair and an undercut, wearing a yellow hazard jacket for whatever reason. He was currently glaring at his tablet as he swiped on it, stylus in hand. He was bigger than in the pictures, by a decent margin. Not Animal huge, but definitely jacked.

  Kenzan walked up to him. “Oi.”

  “Go bother someone else, I’m busy.”

  He hadn’t even looked up.

  “You wanna fucking die?” Jun growled.

  “Whatever it is, not interested. Walk away.”

  What an absolute gonk. “David Martinez.”

  Martinez’s hand, the one holding the stylus, froze. He finally looked up. “Who’s asking?” There was steel in his eyes. In his entire figure, actually. A solidity that immediately made Kenzan question if pushing him was even feasible.

  No, don’t get distracted—that’s just a nervous reaction. People always stiffened when they got scared.

  “Come out with us on the next stop,” Kenzan said. “We’re taking you to see someone.”

  “Who, and why?”

  Kenzan’s jaws clenched. There was a distinct lack of hesitation in his words. He was demanding an answer. “Omaeda—and because you pissed him off.”

  David’s brows furrowed. “…Who the fuck is Omaeda?”

  Kenzan growled. “You thought you could get away with having the nephew of a Tyger Claw underboss assassinated? Are you out of your gonk fucking mind? If you don’t come out with us on the next stop, we will drag you out.”

  David blinked, and his expression flattened. “Oh, that.” He nodded. “You can go ahead and give me your boss’ number. I’ll talk to him.”

  “The fuck?” Nariko hissed. “You wanna fucking die, gomi?”

  Kenzan could sense the changing winds in the air—this was the time for action. He made to grab Martinez’s collar.

  A split second later, Martinez was on his feet—

  … and his fist was buried into Kenzan’s gut.

  Pain. Kenzan couldn’t recall when he had bowed over almost ninety degrees. PAIN.

  The entire middle of his body seized up as one, like he was being squeezed by the hand of a giant. He couldn’t even scream. Just shriek a small breath of wind, like a dying mouse. He collapsed, and then he was throwing up on the ground.

  First, it was the orange and brown of the XXL burrito he’d had for breakfast. Then it was red. He fell on his knees in front of that growing pool of red.

  He felt something pushing his head down towards the ground—towards the puddle.

  His face smacked wetly into the puddle, even as his body continued seizing, vomiting and retching fluids.

  Kenzan knew nothing but agony, and the puddle of vomit and blood continued to grow.

  000

  While my foot was on the back of this stupid street kid’s head, I took a deep breath through my nose, feeling oddly nostalgic. Blood and vomit in the air smelled like the nicer parts of Arroyo, where the air wasn’t as choked with poison.

  Now then.

  I finally examined this situation. Idiot One, the redhead, was puking out his guts. Possibly in the literal sense. Idiot Two was a beefy blue-haired guy my age, backing away with wide eyes. Idiot Three was a lanky green-haired girl, doing the same, but with a knife in hand. All three had hair-matched neon color getups, and they all had long knives strapped into their belts. Knives, not guns. Typical entry level Tyger Claw morons, then.

  I looked down at Idiot One and snorted. “Slurp it back up, you gonk. You’re making a mess.” I smeared his face in with my foot. Then I gave the other two morons a flat look. “I’ll need Omaeda’s number now.”

  Neither of their Kiroshis lit up, but I received the info through NFC. Must have been Idiot Number One. Maybe he wasn’t that stupid.

  I rolled my eyes and made the call. I ignored the passengers moving away from the scene, wrinkling their noses at me in disgust. The puddle was starting to grow wide enough that my other shoe was about to get engulfed, so I finally took my foot off Idiot One’s head.

  He flipped on his side with a deep, choked gasp. Ah, shit. I’d almost drowned him in his own vomit. Tough.

  I should think about doing that for my next BD actually.

  I went and picked up the stylus and tablet that I had set on the empty seat next to me. I plugged the stylus into the tablet and dropped it into my backpack while the call went through.

  Finally, ‘Omaeda’ picked up.

  David: I’m guessing you’re the guy Katsuo paid to have me killed.

  Omaeda: …David Martinez?

  David: So you actually have to narrow it down, huh? How many people did Katsuo pay you to kill, anyway?

  Omaeda: Don’t get smart with me, boy. You won’t like the outcome.

  David: So, why are we doing this, exactly?

  Omaeda: You killed my nephew. You thought you could get away with that?

  David: You mean the nephew that tried to kill me first?

  Omaeda: Irrelevant. What matters is that you killed him, and now you must pay the price.

  I snorted.

  David: I can understand the pain of losing family, and I can understand lacking the resolve to accept that as the cost of doing business. I can’t respect it, but I can understand it. So, in the interest of never having to think about you again, ten thousand seems like a fair price.

  Omaeda: You insult me. You think this can go away without blood?

  David: Sit on a dick, dude. I’m literally giving you free money, here.

  Omaeda: Fifty thousand. To be delivered personally, cash only.

  Wow! What, did he think I was short an entire brain or something?

  …What the hell do I do, flatline him? Nah, too messy. Way too messy. He was only one part of an enormous gang of raving maniacs. Killing him would be the definition of kicking the hornet’s nest.

  Most importantly, those hornets would know where to swarm.

  [He hasn’t hung up yet. Therefore, he can probably be convinced into accepting a diplomatic solution if he knows that all-out conflict would cost him far more down the line.]

  That was true. Problem was, names mattered. David Martinez didn’t carry any weight, not enough to convince this retard of a gangoon not to try anything.

  [Beseech Ryuzaki-sama.]

  Fuck no.

  Shit, what else could I do? If fighting like a solo couldn’t fly, then I had to approach this as a corpo.

  David: Ten thousand, to be delivered by one of these gofers you sent, and I won’t contact my higher-ups in Arasaka Academy.

  Omaeda: You have no contacts, you slumrat.

  David: Guess you’ll find out the hard way, then. I wonder how your manager will take it when he’s told that a son of Ryuzaki himself is displeased with you. That might seriously cut into your profit margins, wouldn’t it? But hey—you make me get in touch with him, you’re not seeing dick of this money, and that’s God’s own truth.

  Another call was coming through.

  Fei-Fei.

  David: I’m putting you on hold. Chew on this offer in the meanwhile.

  I ignored his protests. I accepted Fei-Fei’s call and heard her sweet voice come through the line.

  Fei-Fei: Morning, David!

  David: Morning, Fei. What’s up?

  I grinned, leaning against the backrest of a chair, keeping one eye on the trio of bumbling Tyger fuckwits as they tried to help up their injured pal, who was making a mess all over the train car. Must have torn his stomach straight open for all that bleeding to happen. Didn’t know the Tygers hired ‘ganic goons these days. Or maybe they were just initiates. Yeah, probably. They seemed pretty young.

  Fei-Fei: I’m good! Just wanted to let you know that I have a surprise for you.

  My eyes widened.

  David: Really? A surprise?

  Fei-Fei: You’ll see soon. In an hour.

  David: Uh, I’m going to school, you know.

  Fei-Fei: I know. Goodbye.

  She hung up the call. I blinked. Her tone was sweet throughout, so I tried not to suspect anything outright bad. It was pretty hard. Surprises were—well, I already had one fucking surprise this morning. In my life, they rarely ever heralded something nice.

  I un-holded Omaeda.

  David: So, what do you say?

  Omaeda: Twenty-thousand, and a personal meeting.

  This fucking gonk.

  David: Then I won’t give you dick.

  Omaeda: And you shall look over your shoulder at all times, then.

  David: I’m getting your manager, Omaeda. I’m sorry, but your service has been downright awful.

  Omaeda: Don’t you—

  I hung up, and walked up to the three baby Tygers. The guy with blue hair looked at me in terror while the green-haired girl was holding the knife holstered on her side. The redhead ‘chief’ was staggering, dribbling blood from his mouth all across his front. “That’s gonna be five thousand for a med-grade stomach implant, or just for the hospital bills if you wanna keep the ganic. Not really any of my business.” I sent the poor guy the transfer. The fact that they were fully ‘ganic and kind of young made me feel bad for them. They were just disposable meat to the Tygers.

  He accepted the cash.

  “Leave on the next stop.”

  The two still standing on their own nodded frantically.

  I turned to leave and get a seat on another traincart, away from the stench that reminded me way too much of actually living Arroyo. Random shit encounters like this were why public transport sucked.

  Still, kinda nostalgic.

  That all-nighter spent fixing the Murkmobile’s fucked up CrystalDome code with Lucy had drained me of the will to ever drive a vehicle. I had elected to take the NCART today instead of my bike partially for that reason, but also because all my weekend activities had heavily distracted from my weekend homework. Thus, I had chosen to take collective transport because the time it took would allow me to do the work on the way.

  In retrospect, I could have just gone to school early and done the homework there, but I had also wanted to shake my routine up a little.

  And I was probably just a bit skezzed by the sleep deprivation.

  [-10% good decision making. Drive next time.]

  I refused to allow her needling to get a rise out of me, instead resuming my weekend homework.

  000

  I made my way into Arasaka Academy the same way I always did—eyes forward, doggedly ignoring every bad look thrown my way, filling my mind with the noise of music loud enough to drown out the few whispers I could make out. People were staring. Whatever.

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  As I reached the front door of the main building, I asked myself why I hadn’t just put on my earphones to listen to some music. Usually, that wasn’t an option because I needed to hear Katsuo and his cronies coming. That wasn’t really much of a problem anymore.

  …Nah. No need for the music. It was all just for my peace of mind now. No one would dare to fuck with me anymore anyway, so what was the point?

  I saw a group of underclassmen lingering about outside a classroom, making a wide circle around Jin, who had some blubbering kid kneeling in front of him.

  When Jin saw me, he grinned ear to ear. “David, my man!” He kicked the crying kid kneeling in front of him out of the way and approached me. The people in his way damn-near dove out of dodge to make space for him as he approached me with a dap. I returned it with a chuckle. “Preem shit, man.”

  “Was gonna ask, actually.”

  “Yeah, that motherfucker’s crazy!” He laughed. “Dodging bullets? The fuck is that? D’s insane! I love him. Keep that shit coming, choom.”

  “Sure, as long as he stays alive,” I said. “Don’t get too tilted if his fortunes turn, though. That’s just life.”

  He cackled. “Nah, not this guy—he’s way too good.” Damn, Jin. Thought you said you’d stop glazing me. “Anyway, walk with me,” he threw his arm around my shoulders and took me down the hallway. “So, how’s the racing prep? Also—had a tiny brainfart moment, but I just gotta make sure. And don’t take this the wrong way, but… do you… own a Caliburn?” He asked. His tone was so gingerly, like he was genuinely wary of offending me.

  “You know what, I’d have been less offended if you had just asked from the get-go. I didn’t exactly grow up fucking rich, you know,” I said.

  Jin snorted, half-grinning. “I mean, I can lend you mine—“

  “Nah, don’t bother. Already got it sorted. But I’ll tell you—the answer was no when you first asked me,” I gave him a withering glare.

  “Eh, my bad—wait, don’t tell me you got into debt to afford one. That why you’re pissed?”

  “No, I’m pissed cuz Rayfield salesmen are fucking assholes,” I muttered.

  “Right, right, the whole loyalty program thing,” he snorted. “Made you get a bunch of Rayfield merch first before you even got to look at the Caliburns, right?”

  I blinked. Was that where that hostile song and dance shit would have led to? Me begging for the privilege of spending my money with Rayfield by spending more money, and only then being allowed to get one of their damn cars? What the fuck kind of a sales strategy was that supposed to be?

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  “Yeah, them’s the brakes, choom,” he raised a skeptical eyebrow. “The burden of new money. Speaking of that shit—do you still live in a Megablock?” he laughed. “I mean, I heard they’ve got some nice units on the highest floors—”

  “Respectfully, Jin, would you mind…” I sighed.

  “Getting off your dick? Sure. Was gonna float you an offer to get you a recommendation letter to a nice place in Charter Hill, or anywhere that isn’t Bumfuck Arroyo.” He chuckled.

  I paused. “For how much?”

  “For the privilege of never hearing that I don’t do shit for you,” he said. “I’d say you’ve earned that much. We can talk about that later. What I wanna hear about now is the race,” he grinned. “Think you’ll win?”

  “I might have some trouble if the Mountain Pass guy from the BD you gave me shows his face.”

  “But can you beat him?”

  I sighed. “I’m not gonna lie to you—probably not.”

  “What if he doesn’t show up?”

  “Honestly, I’d prefer more data before making a judgment. You know everyone who’ll show up? Their stats? Caliburn spec estimates? BDs of their race history? Something like that. All of it, preferably.”

  “Oppo research, huh?” Jin grinned. “Lemme get a hold of my bookie,” his eyes glowed blue as he called someone. A few moments later, he sent me a document filled with images and text, and links to larger file drops. “Done.”

  “Thanks,” I nodded, reviewing the materials quickly. And when I really grasped what I was looking at, I… hesitated. I had definitely not expected him to be able to deliver goods this quality, not this fast. There were hundreds of pages of materials included, and links to private downloads of dozens of racing BDs from what were no doubt the race’s regulars. How the fuck?

  “Standard platinum-tier dossier package for the Nightmare Rally,” Jin said. “There’s map data and a BD tour included for the racetrack, so study up on that.”

  I frowned. Still wasn’t sure on one thing. “Where is the racetrack? Specifically.”

  Jin laughed. “Under the North Oak Casino, man. Comes up to the surface too, sometimes. Track’s mostly in the deepground tunnelworks. You should come by sometime to watch a race. In person; place is fucking great.”

  [Beseech Jin-sama for help, I said]

  Argh!

  I nodded. “Listen, I gotta ask you for something else, too,” I said. “Two weeks ago, your cyberpsycho cousin sent Tyger Claws to my house.”

  “Holy shit,” Jin laughed, but it wasn’t with humor, but bafflement. “Really? That fucking guy!”

  “Motherfucker was already skezzing out way before all that shit with the manor happened,” I said. “Honestly, it wasn’t a surprise when it happened. Not for me, at least.”

  “Shit, choom. So, what’s the problem? You’re still alive, no?”

  “Well, the guy Katsuo hired is sending more goons now. I offered to pay the guy off, for what ended up happening to the first boys he sent to flatline me, but… he’s pretty adamant about killing me. Death in the family will do that to a guy, I suppose.”

  Jin’s expression hardened. “That so?”

  “I could pay, honestly—I just need the guy to back off. If you could jump over him and talk to his boss or whatever, I’ll grease the wheels with edds and we can bury this shit once and for all.”

  “Katsuo, that fucking prick,” Jin took his arm off my shoulder and shook his head. “Fucking prick, man. Told him not to touch you. Then he goes and does this shit.”

  “Can you help?” I asked him. He gave me a stone-faced look.

  “You got the bodies stashed somewhere?”

  I shrugged. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure they’re slurry at this point.”

  “Damn,” he said. “Would have been a bit easier if they were intact. Too bad, I guess. Give me the details on the boss that’s targeting you and I’ll give you a quote on how much it’ll take for him to shut up.”

  I sighed. “Thanks, man. You’re doing me a solid here.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “So… how’d they end up kicking it anyway? Did you kill ‘em?”

  “Home defense system. Turrets.”

  He snorted. “That’s some new money shit right there. You really shouldn’t keep those, unless they’re mil-spec. Way too easy for some Netrunner psycho to turn them against you, or for them to just glitch out. But that was some amateur hour shit from them, though, to get got by turrets. What, they didn’t have a Netrunner with them?”

  “I don’t know, dude. Probably not. But I’ll tell you one thing—I’m serious about moving out.”

  “Hah! This wouldn’t have happened if you lived in Charter Hill or North Oak, just letting you know.”

  Yeah, no shit.

  We turned a corner in the hallway. Up ahead were a group of girls from my year. Amidst all the black, I caught sight of hair the color of sea foam, and my heart skipped a beat.

  No way.

  [Yes way.]

  “Shit, is that…?”

  One girl shifted, allowing me a full view of her. Sea-foam green hair, big black eyes, round cheeks and an adorable grin. Her eyes were quirked into a smile as she looked at the girls.

  But what set all my thoughts to a grinding halt was what she was wearing.

  An Arasaka Academy uniform.

  000

  Mei Jing Fei tried not to smile too hard when she finally caught sight of him in the hallway, walking next to Jin Ryuzaki. He broke into an innocent grin when he saw her, and the world seemed to dim in comparison to the luminosity of his expression.

  “Ah, there goes Jin, with his latest attack dog,” one of the girls that Fei would share class with muttered.

  “Still can’t believe David managed to get his attention,” another whispered.

  “It won’t last. Jin’s… way out of his league.”

  As if by magnetism, she found herself moving towards him—and him to her. She caught herself in the nick of time and turned to Jin to greet him first. “Hello, Jin.”

  “Fei-Fei! Transfer finally came through, huh? Quick as a bullet! The universe sure has a bad sense of humor.”

  Fei-Fei’s mood diminished significantly at his words. “I see you haven’t changed much.”

  “Dude,” David muttered.

  “What?” Jin looked at him askance. Then he turned to her. “Too soon?”

  Did he really need an answer to that?

  “Sheesh, tough crowd,” Jin shrugged. “Anyway, good to see you up on your feet and not, uh, riddled with bullet holes. Pass my condolences to your family, though. It’s a shame what happened to your brother.”

  Fei-Fei clenched her jaws and gave a nod, not saying anything—she couldn’t trust herself to not say something she’d regret. Like what she truly felt about this jumped up brain potato of an executive’s son.

  “Mine as well,” David bowed deeply. “I wish you and your family comfort in these trying times.”

  Fei-Fei gave a forlorn sigh and nodded. “Thank you,” she said to him. The truth was, Qiang had already been discharged from the hospital, and was sequestering himself in the family manor in secret, waiting for an opportune moment to strike while the world thought that her company was weak. He had insisted to her that there were more hidden opportunities in appearing weak than there were perils. The stock prices did beg to differ, but… she trusted him.

  Surreptitiously, she sent David a text message: ‘Surprise!’

  “Come to think of it,” Fei continued, looking at David, “You’re also a senior, aren’t you?”

  “That I am.”

  “I hope you wouldn’t mind taking on the duty of onboarding me. I know it’s… kind of a bother.”

  “Not at all,” David said, giving a confident grin. “I’ll be sure to give you the lowdown of everything. Welcome to Arasaka Academy. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “Before all that,” Jin said, grabbing David’s arm. “My boy and I need to have a quick talk. Welcome to the Academy, Fei—have fun. But not too much fun, now.”

  Fei received a text then.

  Day-Day: One minute.

  Jing Fei: I’ll be waiting!

  She giggled as they walked off.

  000

  “So… what do you think about her?” Jin asked as we walked out of the school building and into the quad.

  “You mean Jing Fei?” I asked, trying to play it off.

  He looked at me like I was stupid. “Yeah, genius. Jing Fei.”

  The fuck was his problem? “Uhhh, yeah, I mean, she seemed pretty cool.”

  “You feeling her?”

  Ugh. “Why, are you?”

  Jin laughed. “Hell no. But you clearly are!”

  I sighed and palmed my forehead. “Do you have… some kind of point, Jin? Could you rush to that real quick? I’m kind of tired of this conversation already.”

  “Dude, anyone could see your vibes and body language. And I gotta warn you, as a brother—if there’s one thing these Chinese megacorpo girls are good at, it’s playing men,” Jin said. “That’s what they’re known for. Kang Tao, QianT, doesn’t matter—they’re masters of their craft. I shouldn’t have to tell you that she’s obviously not feeling you. You’ve got money, but no power, no solid connections. All you have is potential. And a penchant for making friends in high places.”

  “Hm,” I hummed.

  “She probably knows you from when you beat the shit out of her former school’s reigning huscle. And she’s from QianT’s head family. Even with her family’s company in the gutter, she knows the game. Dollars to donuts, she’s planning on leasing your services, but instead of paying you in something concrete, she’ll string you along for nothing but hot air, because clearly, far as she’s concerned, you’re too much of a sucker to know your worth. Plus, she’s Katsuo’s ex. Don’t get mixed up in this, choom.”

  I sighed. “Sure, whatever.”

  Jin shrugged. “I warned ya—you can do whatever you want, but don’t get surprised if you get screwed over.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Jin. Don’t patronize me.”

  Jin raised an eyebrow at me. “Yeah? We’ll see.”

  We parted ways after that, and I made my way to homeroom. The expansive room with the grid of reclining chairs was sparsely populated, with most of my classmates milling about near to the aquarium screen that lined the walls of the entire room.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Fei-Fei approach me, but I pretended not to see her as I went up to my chair, slowing down a tiny bit so she wouldn’t have to speed up much to catch up to me. “Hey!” Fei-Fei said and I turned around. “David, right?”

  “Right,” I chuckled. “So, onboarding. Never really done one of these before.”

  Fei-Fei grinned. “I’ve heard it’s customary that the top-scorer onboard any new transfers.”

  “That so?” I chuckled. Come to think of it, that did ring a bell, but I had a feeling that most new transfers just avoided me upon Katsuo’s advice. Either that, or their ability to read the room far superseded mine.

  [Kuuki wo Yomu, a Japanese phrase for reading the room. Ergo—being the exact opposite of you. Also an absolute prerequisite for working in any majority-Japanese environment.]

  Yeah, yeah, I fucking sucked at this, what else was new?

  D: Shut up.

  “Of course, if it’s too much of an inconvenience,” she batted her eyes at me.

  I gave her a slight grin. “Hanging with me won’t win you any points with the others—fair warning.”

  She took a small step towards me, wrapping her hands behind her back. “Hm. That’s too bad. Thankfully, I’m only here for the semester.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that. “That so?”

  “Yes. Our school-year ends in summer. It wouldn’t make sense for me to stay beyond that time.”

  I nodded. “That’s fair. I’ve been thinking of testing out by the end of this semester, too, actually.” This was only more incentive to do just that.

  Going to school with Fei-Fei, and without Katsuo hovering over my shoulder, trying to push my face into the daily pile of shit.

  I could get used to that.

  Suddenly, the next few months of school ahead of me didn’t seem like a slog of epic proportions, but something that could potentially be rather pleasant.

  I didn’t know how to feel about that prospect. It didn’t make sense. School wasn’t supposed to be pleasant. Yet, here it was: challenge-free in every aspect, and now I might be able to hang with the first true friend I ever made in school. The coursework couldn’t ruffle me at all, and with Jin’s disposition towards me, I was essentially at the very top of the food chain.

  “As expected of the top-scorer,” Fei-Fei said. “With grades as high as yours, I’d be honored to have a study session with you.”

  It would probably turn out more like a tutoring session—I didn’t really do much studying these days. I just skimmed through pages and pages of PDFs, did the occasional bit of homework or assignment given to me in Sandy-time—whenever it didn’t require handwriting on a tablet, for whatever godawful reason.

  Wait, no, she just wanted to hang out.

  [Obviously!]

  D: 100%, you didn’t know

  “We could arrange that at some point,” I smiled. “Alright, so as you already know, this is homeroom…” I explained to her the general gist of homeroom—green room meditation in a BD, then explaining the schedule of general and elective courses.

  Throughout the day, I stuck closely to Fei-Fei. Aside from just chatting and enjoying each other’s company, I did also do my best to onboard her and give her a tour of the academy grounds, inadvertently exploring a lot of the corners I had stayed well clear from—the athletics hall, swimming pool, the golf field—

  The fucking golf field. Why didn’t I know this even existed? It was massive. Empty greenery, carefully manicured, big. I wondered just how much real food could be grown on fertile soil like this. How many people could be saved from the indignity of eating SCOP to survive.

  Our hang-out was interrupted by a four-hour long block of study, interrupted by a one-hour lunch that we spent just walking on the golf field. Even during lunch, it was sparsely populated, with only a few handfuls of people sitting around, having picnics or otherwise enjoying nature.

  I narrowed my eyes at her back as I watched her walk on the grass in front of me. She was currently holding her blazer over her arm due to the heat, revealing the white shirt she wore underneath. Her turquoise bra strap was visible under the glare of the sun, but I was far more focused on how she moved.

  Her body seemed a lot… lighter. Like she’d lost weight or something. But I couldn’t see any difference. “You look healthier,” I said to her. “That’s good.”

  She turned her head so I could see half her face, and she grinned. “Thank you. I am.”

  “Stronger, too.” Say what you want about a Trauma Team exec policy—they knew how to piece you back together, and seemingly even stronger than before.

  She spun on her heels and walked backwards with a curious smirk. “Stronger than someone who’s bedridden, yeah.”

  “I mean, stronger than normal.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  …Maybe that was a reach, come to think of it. “You seemed to have this… what do they say… a spring in your step.”

  “Springy?”

  “Yeah, a little springy.”

  She skipped slightly, gaining a fair bit more altitude than I expected from someone like her. Given the casualness of her leg movements, at least. She’d only made it like six inches in the air tops, but… it had been too easy.

  Something’s wrong with my brain.

  [No, I see it, too—she clearly had work done.]

  Wow, okay. Some premium package? I couldn’t see a single seam in her skin. Should I ask about it? No, if she didn’t want to talk about it, then it wasn’t any of my business.

  “Hold on, are you just trying to make me jump to,” she gave her breasts a meaningful look and I blushed fiercely, looking down. “Schoolyard tactics? You’re adorable.”

  I chuckled uneasily.

  “I’m surprised you could tell,” she said.

  I looked up to see her staring wistfully into the distance. “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “I did get some work done,” she said, “after I got discharged. Mostly just subtle stuff. So I won’t have to rely on others for my survival, you know? Like you said.”

  I frowned, but nodded. “Are you… handling it well?”

  “Oh, yeah, totally,” she nodded. “My doctors tell me I’m in the top one percentile of augmentation affinity. I’m never going to turn out like… him.”

  I nodded. “That’s good. That’s… great.” Hopefully, that meant subderm, and not something crazy like mantis blades. I’d sleep a lot easier knowing she had strength boosting bioware as well.

  D: Come to think of it, what’s the usual threshold for cyberpsychosis?

  [That depends entirely on the person. With an affinity in the top one percentile, you could chip in as far as Maine or Lieutenant James Norris, minus the Sandevistan.]

  D: And that’s without our codework on her ‘ware.

  [Doubtful that she needs it. She’s from a family that produces cyberware. You really think she’d be wearing the generic consumer-tier slop? All her pieces were likely tailor-made for her body.]

  And excluding any quickhacking or virus-implanting shenanigans, it was highly unlikely she’d ever succumb to cyberpsychosis by that token.

  “Are you still worried, David?” Fei-Fei asked, folding her arms and tilting her head to the side. “What would worry accomplish, except induce fear? Life goes on, you know.”

  I grinned. “Thought I’d have to tell you that.”

  She grinned. “Well, I’m not worried, so neither should you.”

  “But… I guess that’s the thing about worry, ain’t it? You never really worry about yourself. Not fully.”

  She sighed. “It’s exhausting, fielding all that worry.”

  She fell flat on her back, landing on the grass with a slight thud, arms spread.

  I sat in front of her feet, legs crossed. “Hey, uh—I don’t really know how to ask this, but…”

  “Just say it, David. Get it all out in one go,” she said, her voice light and joking.

  I chuckled. “Uh—so… rep-wise, where exactly do you stand? Cuz, to me, it feels like you might have hit rock bottom or something, so you’ve stopped caring.”

  She laughed. “God, David, you don’t pull any punches.”

  I chuckled. “You told me to just say it.”

  “Katsuo’s dad’s missing.”

  My stomach dropped at the sudden non-sequitur.

  “QianT has the motive, but… it happened way too quickly, right after my… incident. Same night, even. We didn’t do it, obviously. Still, it doesn’t wash away the stink. Things are becoming rather hectic. The relationship between Arasaka and QianT is at an all-time low. The buyout may never happen, and… yeah. It’s not painting a pretty picture for my family.”

  “Shit.”

  “In practice, it basically means I’m not really a valid player in the corpo games anymore,” she said, “so… I’d rather not try just to get dumped a few weeks down the line. Rather,” she sat up and crossed her legs, holding her skirt down between her legs to hide her underwear. The act was more reflexive than intentional. “I’d like to spend my remaining time in high school with you. If… that wouldn’t be too much of a bother.”

  “Course not,” I said, grinning. “Not a bother at all. I’m really glad you transferred.”

  She grinned, picking idly at the grass.

  “And the, uh… fiancé situation?” I asked.

  She snorted. “Arasaka wouldn’t take me even if we paid them. I’m afraid that whole endeavor has been shot to hell. My accepted transfer to this school was probably some sort of thinly veiled insult. They’d held out on accepting me for months before now.”

  Sounds about right. Corpos gonna corpo. “Congratulations,” I grinned.

  She chuckled. “Yeah. I’m glad it’s finally over.”

  “And the trauma?” I asked.

  Her smile fell into a pout. “Painful memories don’t stop being painful, apparently. No matter how many eddies one spends. My, what a novel discovery.”

  I snorted. “At least you’re able to joke about it.”

  “Well, I won’t get nightmares about it,” She said. “At least not more than normal. Or daymares or flashbacks or whatever they’re called. But I don’t think there’ll ever be a time where I can actually make a joke about it. People died. It helps to focus on those that didn’t die, but… a lot of people did die.” She blew some air through her lips and shrugged. “Also, the tried and tested ‘it’s not your fault’ line. That’s what they all say.” Because it wasn’t. “Even though it kinda was.”

  I blinked. “Fei-Fei, no. It wasn’t.”

  She chuckled humorlessly. “I mean, I didn’t make him go cyberpsycho, but I made the situation more awkward for him. Piled on a couple of straws that broke the camel’s back. I like to think that if I’d been a little more reserved, he would have cracked after the dinner.”

  “He’d still have cracked.”

  “But my brother and I wouldn’t have been there to get hurt by him, at that point.”

  I sighed. She was wrong, but… there wasn’t any arguing with that sort of thing, anyway. It was an emotional construct, not one based on reason. You couldn’t reason your way out of emotions. I looked down at the grass and summoned forth an emotional construct of my own. “A lot of the time, before mom died, I’d have… regrets about pissing Katsuo off doing… whatever I did. Being better than him at school. Not… being able to read the room. Being… born the way that I was. Causing problems by virtue of my very existence.”

  “You’re not less than him, David. You’re not less than anyone.”

  “No,” I grinned, “don’t argue with those feelings. They can’t be argued against. That’s… not what I do, either.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What do you do?”

  “I think ‘so what?’. Shame… it holds you back. So just don’t have it. Even if it makes you out to be a bad person. Regret, shame, it’s just… they’re liabilities in this city. So I don’t think that ‘I’m not less than Katsuo’ or ‘I’m worthy as a human being’. I say ‘so what if I’m not? So what if I am just a gutter rat? Who’s gonna stop me from achieving my dreams?’”

  “I wish you didn’t say those things about yourself.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal anymore. But… why don’t you try it? See if it might help?”

  “Okay… uh… so what if…” she winced, shaking her head. “I don’t… David, I don’t think I can say the words ‘so what if it was my fault’ and not hate myself. I’m sorry, that’s just too far.”

  I smiled. “You’re… way too pure for this place.”

  She clenched her jaw and shook her head. “That’s not it. It’s just… I’ve seen what having no shame or regret does to someone. I want to do better. But that doesn’t mean I’m too weak to survive in this city.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that.”

  “No, but that’s… I get it, David. We all have different ways of coping with the cards we were dealt.”

  I received a call just then, from Nakajima.

  Nakajima: I’ve got some candidate corps for us to run through—want to hear your thoughts on which one we could do the most for. When are you free this week?

  David: Tomorrow should be fine. Good job, Nakajima.

  The call ended then.

  And I saw Fei-Fei, sitting on the grass, looking around absently. And try as I might, I couldn’t stop the idea from developing.

  QianT was death spiraling.

  A megacorporation, on the top fifty list in Night City.

  It had less than nothing in common with the shit-tier corps that Nakajima was headhunting for the optimization algorithm. This was a company that raked in billions monthly.

  And there was no guarantee that a workflow-optimizing algorithm was what they needed. Their biggest difficulties lay in their inability to scale up their production, but the scale in question was nothing less than astronomical compared to the average corporation

  [But if they’re desperate enough, and if Fei-Fei pushes hard enough…]

  I clenched my jaw at that. And what if they’re not desperate enough?

  […you want me to say something scary, like ‘let’s make them desperate enough’? No, you were already thinking that. And besides, there are softer avenues we could use.]

  Building a concrete connection beyond just my proximity to Fei-Fei would be a start.

  And since I wasn’t interested in signing a fifty-year employment contract with QianT, that would inevitably mean getting a piece of the pie from the top, not the bottom.

  Buying shares.

  Everyone bought shares of everything. It was standard practice for every corpo wealthy enough to afford to set aside money for the stock market. You needed to be wealthy.

  And I wasn’t, not yet, not in a serious sense, but… that could always change.

  And when it did…

  …maybe I could finally complete my penance to Fei-Fei?

  “Why’re you smiling?” she said, eyebrows scrunched together as she grinned.

  “No reason,” I looked away. Then I laid flat on my back, on the grass, enjoying the fresh breeze. The air here smelled… bare of anything. Empty. It was calming.

  Penance… it was exactly the right way to think about it, because that was all it was in the end. Fei-Fei had shown me kindness, given me connection in an otherwise hostile environment, and I had repaid that by almost getting her killed.

  Whether or not I owed her something for the Sandevistan was entirely moot compared to that very real transgression of mine.

  [You don’t owe her for that because someone else took it first.]

  D: Shut up

  I couldn’t blame anyone else for what happened in the Tanaka manor, though. That was on me. And I would clean that mess up.

  By digging QianT out of the hole they’d found themselves in.

  I would go to any lengths for a friend in need.

  I wasn’t specifically sure where I’d be when that was done, but I knew in general, yeah: closer to the top. Much closer.

  Fei-Fei laid on the grass next to me, and a few of her sea foam green strands of hair fell on my face. I blew it away.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “You wanna hang out after school?”

  I remembered the plans I had with Lucy for our one-week anniversary and stiffened. “Can’t, sorry.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Some other day?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll be busy for most of this week practicing for some race on Saturday.”

  Her eyes lit up. “The one under the country club?”

  Right, this place for highrollers was somehow simultaneously a casino and a country club. I nodded. “Yep.”

  “You don’t mind if I’ll be there too, do you?”

  I blinked. It felt… weird being in the position to give her permission to come to a place like that. “I mean, it’s pretty exclusive, but I’ll try to—”

  She giggled. “I’m already a member, gonk.”

  Jeez. “Sorry.”

  “No, that was sweet of you.”

  “Yes, please come,” I said.

  “Sure.”

  000

  “Is this what our relationship is gonna look like? You hauling me to random places without explaining why?” Lucy grinned at me from the Caliburn’s passenger seat to my right. Currently, the CrystalDome was set to a wide black strip in the middle, from the hood to the trunk of the car, and red on either side of that strip.

  The black strip wasn’t optional.

  Everything would break if we tried to fuck with that black strip. It was easier to leave it in and edit the colors on the sides than to try and screw with it, thanks to Murk Man’s dumbass backalley firmware update. The only way to fix it, as far as I could tell, would be to just rewrite the entire operating system.

  That was not only fucking ridiculous, but ultimately rather unnecessary, and I had better things to do with my time than that.

  “Sorry,” I chuckled. “I tend to get ahead of myself, moving from A to B quickly. I don’t usually stop to think about how others might feel about this… pace.” That was largely true, but also a cover-story for my true intentions.

  I took a turn east, towards the badlands.

  “How was racing practice today?” Lucy asked.

  I’d spent three hours after classes ended inching my way towards better drift control and mastering the particulars of the Murkmobile, but I also reserved some time to go over the data. “Jin gave me a bunch of info that I was studying up on. The competition’s stiff, Luce. I don’t know if I can win.”

  “Huh,” Lucy said. “Didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

  I shrugged. “I mean, there’s a chance I might win and all, but a real win would be having Jin go all-in on me, instead of diversifying and hedging his bets. But if I ask him to do that, and eat shit, I’m fucked. But if I tell him I’m not sure I’ll win, and then I win anyway, that’s a pretty big missed opportunity.”

  “Ah, gambling. Tale as old as time.”

  I snorted. “It’s not gambling if it’s about your own performance.”

  “Why don’t you bet on yourself, too?” Lucy asked.

  I wondered at that. “I could toss in a few hundred large, I guess.”

  “How about a million?”

  I hummed. “Yeah, but I’d have to grind up real hard for that. Take out gigs every day, at least. It would cut into my practice time.” And changing up the CrystalDome had sleep-deprived me to the point that my practice was barely half as efficient as usual, even with Nanny’s help. She was also too busy integrating those rare earth metals to simulate true rest.

  “I could lend you a million.”

  I frowned and looked at Lucy. “A million—wait. The money my grandma gave you?”

  “It’s your money too,” she said. “She just gave me both our cuts because you wouldn’t accept it.”

  “I mean, what if I lose? A million eddies is a lot of money, and if that disappears, then you’ll be left with nothing.”

  Lucy snorted. “You… really don’t know how much your grandma gave me, do you?”

  “Wait—how much was it?”

  “Secret,” she grinned. “But I’ll tell you one thing—a million in losses wouldn’t make me poor by any means.”

  So, two million at the very least. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Secret?”

  We were finally starting to reach the edge of the city. Ahead of us now was nothing but desert and poorly lit roads.

  “I like surprising you. The shoe being on the other foot is sorta satisfying, I’d say.”

  “Huh,” I snorted. “Well, it’s your money. But… yeah, if you could spot me a million to bet on myself, that’d be real preem.” A total newbie with zero racing history would have some long fucking odds, and that meant a preem ass payout.

  If I won.

  “Where the hell are we going?” Lucy asked.

  I sped up the car and took us deeper into the badlands until we arrived at a steep hill. “You driving us off a cliff or some shit?” Lucy grinned.

  “Nah, I’m not a lunatic—that’s all you.” I slowed down a little as the hill evened out. I finally came to a stop once we reached near to the drop ahead of the hill. I turned the brights on, lighting the area up.

  “You’re fucking joking.”

  On the plateau, three things were visible—two cushioned chairs, and a table between them. And behind them, Night City stood tall in the backdrop.

  I chuckled uneasily. “I, uh… happy one-week anniversary.” Please kill me. Lucy stared at the set, utterly transfixed, and I prepared to get my ass lit up for being so corny. “I’ve got some food and booze in the trunk, and… I don’t know, if it’s too much, just say so.” She was still quiet. I felt a deep swell of shame in my chest, and debated on just turning the car around and going ‘gotcha, hahah, it was just a prank’ when Lucy wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in for a hug.

  “Thank you… thank you, David.” I heard a brief sniff. She pulled back and smiled at me. “It’s crazy that you’d remember this. Could have sworn that you wouldn’t have.”

  “Heheh, I,” I shrugged. “I’m weird, I guess.”

  “Did someone tell you to remember it?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Nope, not at all. I’m just a really good guy.”

  She chuckled and opened the car to exit. I quickly went to the trunk to get the stuff, and set the table—a pot of yellow veggie rice, with raisins in ‘em of all things, another pot of that Somali beef stew, and a plate of flatbread. Next to the table, I set the ice-cooler with the beers, and on the table, I put a bottle of pricy wine.

  Once we were settled and about to eat, Lucy sighed forlornly. “I… I’m sorry, David.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows at that. “Why, what do you mean?”

  “I… wanted to get you something for today, too, but… I didn’t know what. Plus, I didn’t think you’d remember.”

  I chuckled. “It’s fine, Luce—I wasn’t really expecting anything.”

  “That’s… not good.”

  I put my hand over hers. “I was expecting you. And that’s enough for me. Eat.”

  She nodded, and slowly, we fell into an easy rhythm, eating, cracking jokes, veering away from work-topics to just, talk. About nothing. Everything.

  Once we were done eating, we had drinks while seated on the ledge of the cliff, legs dangling over, watching Night City and how it shone brighter than any star overhead.

  “I, uh, saw some ads,” I said. “About some Tycho properties.” I caught sight of a billboard in Downtown going back from school.

  “You mean the moon?” Lucy asked, leaning her head on my shoulder.

  “Yeah. They’re trying to get major investors for above-ground luxury habitats. The buy-in’s pretty crazy, though. But… if there’s any way to live on the moon, it’s that way. You’re essentially a minor shareholder, and not just—consumer meat to be exploited.”

  “…How much is the buy-in?”

  “Two hundred million,” I said. “It’s a pretty sweet deal. The investment is certified by Asukaga and Finch, and the ESA. It probably won’t turn into some kind of money hole, but there’s always a chance.”

  “Wow,” she whistled. “That’s a lot of money. How are we gonna get that much?”

  “Get a nine-to-five of course. And work for two thousand years without spending any of your income.” Then I frowned. “Shit, didn’t account for inflation there. Might take more time.”

  “Shit,” Lucy chuckled. “Onto the next dream, I guess.”

  “We could always just do crime.”

  She raised a beer can. “To doing crime.”

  A rocket shot into space in that exact moment. I laughed and raised my own bottle of tequila. “If that’s not a sign from God, I don’t know what is.”

  “So you do believe in god,” she said. With her off-hand, she caressed my cross necklace.

  I chuckled. “I don’t know, dude.” It was hard for me to dismiss the idea out of hand, after everything I had been through.

  [You mean psychosis?]

  D: I wouldn’t expect you to understand faith.

  [Your psychosis told you this in order to justify its existence in your mind. You’ve tricked yourself into not trusting my objectivity.]

  D: Either way, it’s not really getting in the way of what I wanna do. It’s just… kinda fun to think about.

  Two hundred million, though.

  Yeah. That’d be chump change for me someday.

  “I’ll get you up there one day, Lucy,” I said, wrapping an arm around there. “I promise.”

  She put a hand over my head and pulled it down for a kiss.

  Quick announcement: I'm taking a four week hiatus to focus on my other story. The next public upload will be on the 12th of June. If you haven't already, hit that follow button to be notified once the story's back!

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