The remainder of their night dive went smoothly. It seemed like Noelle’s intelligence had been right on point – only stragglers made it through the military blockade, and even if they managed it, they were often weakened and isolated. It made the junkyards the prime hunting grounds for Evantra, as vulnerable as she was.

  After picking off a handful of teethlings, they made their way towards the final drop of the night. Cypha rubbed her hands together, cackling manically as Evantra regarded her, seemingly overcoming her previous discomfort.

  So far, she had scrounged up a Nezha corporation consumer drone, a Hephaestus cleaning bot, and a VR dive disc that was still in good condition – though its contents were a mystery. Overall, it was a good haul.

  “You two are gonna make me RICH! Not a word to any of the other techrats, I’m going to—”

  “Buy another bunch of romance books?”

  The girl blushed and pointedly ignored her. Cypha was so delighted with the outcome that she gave them the Nezha drone as bonus, and they scheduled their next dive two days later, when the next fresh shipment arrived.

  “Don’t blame a girl for her hobbies…” Cypha grumbled under her breath, “especially not in this shithole of a town.”

  “Oh?” Evantra perked up at the girl’s words. “Want to get out of here?”

  “Who doesn’t?” She shifted on her hoverbike, with a sigh. “Ma and Pa are against it, of course. They’ve spent their whole lives here, but they aren’t interested in what the rest of the world has to offer. There’s so much out there.”

  Evantra hid a smile as she watched Cypha brush sweaty hair from her goggles, but she could practically see her eyes shine from beneath them.

  “Megacorps are shit and all, but their research divisions? Imagine tinkering on real cutting-edge stuff. Going from this,” she hefted the small drone nestled in the seat in front of her, “to the IATs – Nezha’s Intercontinental Autonomous Transports – that have kept trade alive between the megacities. Somehow, resistant to the ghouldamned poltergeists. Without them, we’d all be a pile of rotting bones, starved for resources.”

  “That’s why you’re willing to take the additional risk, huh?” Evantra grinned. “Well, when you’re working for Nezha, remember your small friends scrapping it out under your corporate throne, and give us some discounts.”

  “No chance.”

  They exchanged a grin, before Evantra’s face clouded. Cypha snorted as she glimpsed her expression.

  “Go on, preacher. I’m in a good mood. Spit it out, I can see you’ve got something burning on the edge of your tongue.”

  Evantra cleared her throat, scratching the back of her neck in abashment. Then her gaze fell on the gargantuan mining barge that hung over the junkyard.

  “It was that obvious? Any idea what Caliburn are doing here? I caught a glimpse of the family’s representatives, they’re…”

  “Scary as ghoulshit, they are. Elaine and Clark Hallewell,” Cypha shuddered and picked up speed, as if to get away from the names she had uttered. “Not to mention, they’re only siblings in the branch family. ‘Only’ doesn’t describe their ambition, though. If anything, the branch families are always the most ambitious, and take the most risk to climb.”

  The ground beneath them rumbled, shaking the hills of scrap on either side of them, as they threaded between them, heading back to the junkyard’s entrance.

  “The official story is that they’ve found rare earth deposits under the junkyard. Mine entrance is further in. Don’t get any ideas, they’ve got Ghostslayers patrolling the entrance, and they don’t like it when the techrats get close. Don’t go near them, not unless you want a bullet in your skull. That’s unacceptable, seeing as you’re my ticket outta here.”

  “You believe their story?”

  The girl hummed, as she chewed over Evantra’s question.

  “Mining up in space is expensive, even with Tsukuyomi’s advances. Izanami is coming up as a corporation specialising in space defence tech to support their efforts. If Caliburn wanted, they could probably reclaim some of the old mines in the Lost Territories, but it would be hard to justify the risk.”

  “A plausible reason, then.”

  “I think its ghoulshit.”

  “Oh?”

  The girl in front of her shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Everything checks out on paper, but they’ve been mighty accommodating with Juno, letting him keep the yard operational. Wouldn’t you want a bunch of annoying techrats out of your hair, if you’re mining underneath the yard, and have the resources to buy out Juno’s lease as easily as letting out a fart?”

  “You’ve got a way with words… But yes. It is strange.”

  “Well… I’m happy to keep it a mystery. Don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong, like I said, you’re my ticket out of here.”

  “...and to affording more erotic fiction?”

  Cypha pointedly ignored her, even as Evantra watched the tips of her ears redden.

  “Let’s sit tight for a couple more minutes. There’s a new drop coming in. This will be the last.”

  As Cypha brought her bike to a standstill, a transport from Elsecaller city made its way to the junkyard. It was eclipsed by the Caliburn mining barge that hovered over the junkyard, and they watched as the twin doors of its cargo bay opened, depositing its contents directly into the junkyard below, before its engines flared, and it took off to its next destination.

  “Nice, we’ve got a couple of hits. Evantra?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t get any ideas… you don’t want to go anywhere near Caliburn.”

  “Yeah… you’re probably right.”

  They were frustratingly close to Caliburn’s mining site, and the temptation to snoop and investigate was overwhelming.

  Cypha’s hand latched on to her forearm, her grip tightening to an uncomfortable degree. Evantra frowned at the girl’s wide eyes, fixed on something in the distance.

  “Cypha?”

  Following the girl’s gaze, Evantra froze.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  A familiar man was seated high up on one of the hills of junk nearby.

  Clark Hallewell, of Caliburn Industries.

  One of the pair that had walked into Juno’s office, who had been escorted by a Ghostslayer.

  The man waved at them with a grin, casually seated on a metallic strut jutting from the hill of scrap. He was wearing the same black suit, with a dark brown beard, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the trash and junk. Then they watched him leap down from his perch, with ease inaccessible and far beyond the reach of most organics.

  “Ho there! Sorry… I’ve got to admit I’ve been curious about the scavengers. Sorry for uh… staring.”

  Clark seemed to have been struck by a moment of self-awareness as he frowned, muttering under his breath with a British accent.

  “Hmm… That’s not creepy at all. Great going ya geezer.”

  He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot while avoiding their stares, before beaming at them with childlike innocence.

  Evantra and Cypha just continued to stare at him. The seconds drew into minutes, and the man continued to awkwardly scratch his beard. Evantra could swear that she could glimpse a slight blush in the man’s cheeks.

  “A-are you asking to come along?”

  “Would you mind? Beats being trapped in there with those stuffy dullards.” Clark gestured over to Caliburn’s mining barge.

  “Evantra… what’s going on? Who are you talking to?” Noelle’s voice echoed through from her earbud. Evantra and Cypha exchanged a long glance, before Evantra finally waved the man over.

  It wasn’t like we could deny the progeny of a megacorp. If he wanted to kill us and decorate his barge with our corpses… it’s not like anyone could stop him.

  “Saw a mimic running around in there, might want to be careful.”

  Hmm… Looks like the mimics are smart enough to wait until a new drop occurs, to get the jump on ambitious techrats.

  “Haven’t seen one of those buggers in a while. I can be your backup!”

  The man smiled happily at her, and despite the oddities around his presence here, Evantra got the distinct impression that he was the closest incarnation to bipedal golden retriever she had ever come across. Putting aside the fact that the blood of a megacorporation ran in his veins, of course.

  “Evantra! You need to be careful around Caliburn! It doesn’t matter that they’re from a branch famil—”

  Evantra tuned Noelle out, watching as the man withdrew a pistol from his suit jacket, oblivious to how they tensed up at the sight of it. He handed it over to Evantra.

  “Kali Arms. Lesser-known Indian arms company, they make some of the best stuff, but it’s all bespoke. Want to give it a whirl?”

  Evantra reluctantly accepted the firearm, glancing at the man’s naked excitement at sharing his weapon with her. She almost dropped the weapon when she accepted it, surprised by just how light it was, at least a quarter of the weight of her Naganta, which was already an exceedingly light gun.

  She could have sworn that the moment she gripped the weapon, its grip had conformed to her hand, fitting it like a glove.

  “C’mon!”

  The man began comically tip-toeing in the direction of the junk heap that Cypha had motioned towards, and the girl’s exchanged a look of incredulity.

  When I think of savage, ruthless corpos… this isn’t exactly what comes to mind.

  Assuming it isn’t a front. His sister on the other hand…

  “So, uh… Clark. Can I call you Clark?”

  The man beamed at her as he nodded his head.

  “What brings you to Wisptown?”

  Evantra tuned out Noelle’s protests, and the look of sheer horror that Cypha was directing her way.

  “Hahaha, I like you! You’ve got bigger bollocks than half of these stuffy corporate types. The million dollar question…”

  The man conspiratorially interlocked his fingers and waggled them.

  Then his shoulders slumped.

  “We’re just mining. Cross my fingers, swear on me mum’s grave.”

  Clark let out a forlorn sigh, scratching at his slightly scruffy and unkempt beard, now that Evantra peered at the man up close. From the way he was fidgeting in his suit, it seemed like he hadn’t had much of a choice in wearing it.

  “We send out expeditions ever so often, mining drones and the like to take samples – found rare earths under the junkyard and hammered out some contracts with Hephaestus. They need it for their robotics, yada, yada.”

  The man’s face fell, and Evantra raised an eyebrow.

  “Then, my twat of a sister heartlessly took me away from me young ones—”

  The man didn’t miss a beat before rapidly extracting a photo from his suit jacket, depicting a plump woman with rosy cheeks and curly brown hair giving him a sloppy kiss on his cheeks, and three kids that looked to be around Lucas’ age with smiles just like their father’s.

  “And I’m stuck digging holes in the ground. Please I beg of you, let me come along on your expeditions, and I’ll pay you for each one. Two thousand ectocredits a pop. I’m going mad with all the talk about rocks and metals.”

  Evantra winced as she watched Cypha drop the drone in her hands, her mouth falling open at the man’s offer.

  “Welcome to the team Mr Clark!”

  The techrat rushed forwards, and Evantra watched incredulously as the girl vigorously shook the man’s hand, returning a smile like the sun to match his own.

  ---

  “How did I get into this position.”

  Cypha and Clark were peering over cover, watching Evantra in anticipation as she headed towards the location that was pinged. Evantra had filled Noelle in under her breath as Cypha and Clark talked, the techrat now much more accommodating of his presence since his promise to them.

  “Be careful Evantra…”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him. Even though he seems like normal, bored dad sent on a boring business assignment. He’s a big… British teddy bear. Or at least, he’s good at pretending to be one.”

  Evantra walked forwards, keeping her expression impassive – playing the perfect, unassuming victim.

  She crouched as the tablet in her left hand began to beep, signifying her proximity to the component.

  The mimic leapt out towards her.

  It was positioned much closer to her than she had anticipated. Where the previous mimic had situated itself some distance away from the electrical component, this one, had been lying dormant right next to it.

  The mimic, which had been disguised as a refrigerator, morphed. Its dark grey fingers reaching for her throat as it rapidly closed in on her arm, pulling it towards her as dark grey incisors drew towards her neck.

  Evantra kicked the mimic in the torso, sending it hurtling backwards. Before she could bring up her Nagantra to send a burst of bullets into it, the creature disappeared.

  “Noelle, the creature just vanished—”

  “It’s a common tactic Evantra! They can’t teleport away, it must have shifted into something tiny, try to get to a place where you can see even small things comi—”

  The mimic reappeared out of thin air next to her, shoving her onto the ground.

  The ground, which was covered with plenty of protruding metallic objects that she could be impaled on.

  Evantra contorted her body, desperately attempting to find purchase to right herself, even as the mimic rapidly closed in on her. A single gunshot rang out in the silence of the junkyard, courtesy of Clark Hallewell. Evantra watched as torso of the mimic exploded as the incendiary round from his pistol burned a hole through its ribcage.

  Seeing that the mimic was dead, Evantra having successfully acted as bait, Cypha leapt out of the cover, racing towards her. She snatched the pad from her hands and began searching for the component. Clark followed right behind her.

  “You’re a badass. Can I get your autograph. It’s for my little ones.”

  He stared at her with wide, adoring eyes, ignoring the fact that he was the one that had just saved her from being ripped apart from a mimic. Evantra didn’t quite know how to respond.

  “Can I convince you to join Caliburn’s Ghostslayer program? All expenses paid, you’d pop down to the UK for a minute, we’d outfit you with some cybernetics once we’re done with the mining – and don’t worry—”

  The huge man winked at her conspiratorially.

  “We’ll see to it that you do. Don’t think I don’t know how these megacorps prey on the young and hopefuls.”

  Evantra tried to keep her expression neutral as she responded.

  “That’s very kind of you to offer.”

  Before she could continue, she felt something cold press up against her neck, gently parting her skin.

  A stray droplet of blood to trickled down her throat.

  Evantra stared at the edge of the Ghostslayer’s blade, nestled right up against her neck, as the woman appeared out of thin air.

  “Woah, woah. Easy there Guinevere. Just having a bit of fun.”

  “Master Hallewell. Your sister demands your presence. We’ve detected a Veilsurge in the area.”

  How long has she been stalking us?

  Unlike the man she had glimpsed previously, who looked to be fashioned after a knight from fairytales adapted into modern battle armour, this Ghostslayer was clad in a sleek black bodysuit.

  Wait a minute… that isn’t a bodysuit.

  Evantra stared at the point on Guinevere’s neck where the black colouring of what she had assumed was the suit turned to the beige of her skin. The reason why it looked form-fitting, was because it didn’t exist.

  It was her skin.

  The sleek black blade which had been extended slowly retraced into the hollow housing in her forearm.

  Guinevere had a soft voice, and Evantra could detect no hatred in her gaze. Then again, she couldn’t detect much of any emotion in those cold, emerald eyes.

  “A Veilsurge? Wanna come along Evantra? You’ll get to watch how the pros do it.”

  Evantra stared at the man who gave her a wide grin, even as Cypha, Noelle and Guinevere all responded to his question simultaneously.

  “Master Clark—”

  “Preacher, I don’t think that’s a goo—”

  “EVANTRA NO—”

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