“What’re we walking into kid?” Craig asks sub-vocally, three streets down in an Armored Personnel Carrier full with two squads and their noise-making equipment.

I recently discovered that my scroll-shaped coms device can sense in IR and show it to me in a heat map. “Link for a video call, the IR readings indicate recent machine use in the garage, and at least a dozen people in the warehouse and offices.” I reply from atop a dilapidated billboard down the block.

A notice in the corner of the screen tells me Craig took my recommendation to connect. I zoom out to encompass the whole building. He looks at the image for long enough to make me nervous and reconsider this going in loud approach. They gave me a rocket launcher and a grenade launcher and I want to use them.

Taking our time to analyze for Barstow ended up in missing our quarry as they got wind of our assault. Since then, we’ve only taken the time to confirm illicit activity, not who’s behind it and have got middling results.

“Alright, start the clock on my mark. Fifteen seconds out, start the music.”

Ugh, that doesn’t give me much time to run five blocks and climb another building with a backpack full of ordinance. ‘The kid can handle it’ he says, ‘she likes climbing, or at least hanging from ledges’ she says; I’d rather be on the ground being told what to do instead of being given starting conditions and ‘cover us’ for the rest of the mission. Blarg.

“Mark.” Craig says, forcing my brain into work mode. I pop a candy, pull my straps tighter, and ladder slide down some masonry features—relying on my gloves and boots to slow me down.

I start jogging toward the office and attached warehouse and hear the ticking of the clock on my phone that’s connected to my comms unit. When the clock gets to thirty, I’m barely at the base of the building, so I load the rocket launcher and fire at 20 seconds. Luckily the building I want has an outboard fire escape so I climb a story while I load another rocket and launch and repeating for the last rocket on the third floor on my way up to the roof past five as I hear a loud impact of an APC hitting a warehouse door.

Giving the occupants about thirty seconds was part of the plan for the office side, giving me time to switch over to the AR-15 with the M203 grenade launcher attachment. Takes me two grenades to get the range inside the doors that I had just blown in, hearing some screams of the daring folk that risked the rockets being the only ordinance coming in that door before our troops. Not something any of my team would have done, but then again, they send their mascot running down the road loaded for war while they take an armored vehicle into battle. At least I have my helmet on today.

I switch to launching a grenade every minute or so, adjusting the timing based on whims to keep anyone inside from guessing the timing while I put together my MRAD. Adelanto is a spread-out town, originally a low-cost expansion area for commuters to L.A. metro and surrounding cities, which also made it a survivable location for the Guerrilla Wars that decimated large cities across the globe. It also made it easy to see reinforcements coming on the well-laid out grid of the streets in town.

Ten minutes later I see a convoy coming our way. “Beard Papa, I have possible reinforcement convoy of five vehicles 3km out. ETA 5 minutes.”

“Take prisoners and evac. Buy us any time you can Kid.”

Damnit. On one hand, I like that he trusts me to give them more time; hells, in the four months I’ve been running with these clowns I’ve bought them enough time and saved enough asses to own an Italian pizzeria and burro rental service. On the other hand, my mistakes often lead to people getting injured and sometimes dead. I only ever feel relaxed on a mission when Marcella is with us, and since I started on the aether-infused food almost six weeks ago, she’s been around nearly every day—just not always on my missions.

One of the benefits of her being around more, is that I don’t have to hide the portable Exchange Relay that she gave me, and with Craig authorizing the mission account while we’re in situations like this, it allows me to do things like re-stock rockets on the fly. Fifty credits later and I’m ready to test how well I can snipe with an RPG.

I pick a point about 300m away and loose rocket one. It takes longer to reload than for the rocket to hit, so I decide to watch. Vehicle one sees the rocket in time to swerve, but not in time to pick a street to turn down, so the Humvee-like vehicle slams into a building at 50kph or so. Vehicle two takes the rocket under its front axle, popping one side up and causing the vehicle to eventually hit on its side after the driver failed to regain control. Vehicle three clips vehicle two in an expertly executed avoidance maneuver and vehicles four and five turn north on a street just before the accidents.

I launch another rocket at vehicle three while it recovers and hit it nearly broadside as it turns off on a side street. “Beard Papa, two vehicles re-routing to approach from the North. Three minutes.” I call in while slinging the launcher section to rest on my back and collapse my MRAD as I descend the fire escape in more of a controlled fall than using the stairs.

I hit the ground and sprint towards the warehouse and use the far side of the street to get an angle on the corner I think the vehicles will be coming around. I take a brief break to load ordinance on my launcher and then against all common sense, begin running with a loaded rocket launcher. When I see vehicles between buildings a street farther away than I expected, I skid to a stop, rest the launcher on top of an old mail collection box and wait. Minutes later, well after the vehicles should have turned a corner, I hear Craig’s voice in my ear.

“Loaded and leaving. Go to rendezvous 2 if you need a pick-up.” I click in response as I watch the bastard drive away.

Seconds later, I see some people with guns peek around a building. I greet them with a rocket and run off, weaving between buildings straight away from the scene, then make a more arcuate route toward rendezvous 2 approximately 4km away.

***

“Did you have to spend 50 credits?” Templeton, the resident network guy and bean counter asks.

“For the last time, yes! Rockets cost money and my rifle is no good against vehicles!” I want to take the remaining steps forward to poke the bastard, but I know I’ll end up hitting him if I do. “And if you suggest we take it out of my pay again, then I will be happy to simulate what would have happened to you had five vehicles full of people chasing you with guns.”

“Are you threatening me?” he asks, daring me to confirm it.

“Yes, I am threatening to shoot you. You are harassing me with this shit. If it was once or twice, I’d understand, but after every mission? C’mon Templeton, just because I’m young and small doesn’t mean I’m a pushover, so what’s your fucking problem?”

“My problem is your entitled, ‘look at me’ attitude! Woe is me, take pity on the pretty Orphan girl with a sugar momma that everyone’s afraid of. It took me years to get the recognition that they just handed you.”

I scoff at that, “That says more about you than me. And handed me recognition? I know sitting in the car, preparing our getaway is boring, but it’s also safe. The rest of the team is safer because of me, and they recognized early that they could rely on me to do that. It is not my fault that you’re not happy with your success. You’re a grown ass man with the system and you’re jealous of a girl without it staging you up.” I shake my head and walk away, no longer wanting to shoot the man now that I know that his problems are all his own. I walk down the hall to the kitchen of the house we started occupying for the mission and see Craig talking with Marcella.

“I heard yelling, everything okay?” Craig asks.

“No. Dipshit is going to try to charge me for mission supplies again. Then I told him that if he doesn’t stop harassing me, I’m going to shoot him.”

“Ah, your normal banter then.” He turns toward my Mentor again.

“No, Craig. His inadequacy issues and jealousy are going from green to black. He’ll be a liability if this continues, and if he’s petty and mean to me again I’ll shoot him. If he causes me problems on a mission, I’ll kill him myself.”

“You won’t have to Kimber. If a squad member betrays their squad, I’ll take care of them and train the remainder of the team not to ignore issues until a problem shows up.” She smiles at me and her eyes make a promise to Craig.

I nod in thanks. “I appreciate the sentiment, but aren’t we due back in Vegas soon anyway? They can ignore it a lot longer if I’m not here to fuel the fire.”

“Cute, but also yes. After we question the two captives, we’ll be heading back.” She sighs, “I don’t have a candidate with the same skills, but one of my team members can fill the gap while you source a new member through HR.”

“That’s who gave me Templeton. If she was staying I could get rid of him.”

“As much as I learned Craig, no thank you.” I raise my hands in surrender.

He chuckles, showing an emotion with tired that I can’t quite identify. “Another team’s Face and their muscle are going to start questioning the captives tonight if you want to sit in on it.”

“We do. Especially before the rest of the trainees get scattered out here to get field experience.”

Craig sighs, “At least I got a break from babysitting the first batch.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Once we walk out of the house, I grab onto Marcella’s hand, needing some reassurance from the stress of the day, and she’s the only one I can rely on for it. I know she doesn’t want me to hug her in public, but holding her hand for a half block walk to the house two doors down should be okay. When we get inside, I full on glomp onto her side and hug her with as much sanity as I have left.

My mentor stiffens for a second then wraps and arm around me. “I’m sorry, Kimber. I didn’t realize how hard this was for you.” The understanding in her voice had some sadness to it, but I don’t care. Now that’s she’s been more of a constant presence I’ve somehow needed more affection? I’m a bit embarrassed about it, but she doesn’t seem offended, just surprised.

“No need to apologize, I . . . I just need more? I don’t know why, but after living with Bell, I got so used to the casual touches, you know? I know you don’t like the hugs and all, but thanks for understanding.”

“Ugh, now you’re making me feel guilty. Go clean up, put on some jammies and we’ll talk, watch a movie and I’ll explain some stuff.” She squats down and looks up at me. “But don’t think I can’t handle a hug or ten. I like them sometimes, I’m just not used to them.” She grabs me around the middle and pulls me close. I think it’s a cute gesture until she stands up still holding me and spins around with me splayed out like an umbrella.

I squeal in delight of course and when I’ve had my fill, I tuck my limbs in and the increase in speed causes Marcella to unbalance and fall over. We crash to the floor in a slightly bruised tangle of limbs laughing in our dizziness.

“You are such a brat.”

“Love you too big sis.” I say, flicking her nose as I roll free and hop up to take a shower.

I try to keep my lamentations of missing Bell to a minimum, but four months without one of my favorite people is causing me problems. I text her as much as I can, but without the system, our access to each other is limited. I know how much she loves me, but I can tell the time away and the fact that I’m not connected is a strain on her. I hate it and the next six weeks couldn’t be over soon enough.

Finished and in my jammies--a tank and sweat bottoms—I head out to the couch with an extra pillow for each of us. I see Marcella with a bottle of something for her and a familiar bottle of aether-infused juice for me. The tingle of the aether took some getting used to, but now it feels like a little sparkle in my food and the juice feels like fake bubbly.

“What’re you trying tonight?” I ask, drinking the tastiest juice in the Empire.

“Summer Farms Strawberry Shine. They have another one made from local fruits, but the aether persists and I’m not gambling on that until your situation resolves.”

“My own mentor and found sister using me as a guinea pig? Le gasp! The indignity!”

“Damn right. You think I would risk this face for aether and a whim? Not a chance runt.” She pulls me into her lap in what I think is for tickles, but to my surprise, she grabs both pillows and puts one behind her head and another on her chest while reaching for the remote. “So, how to shows, or the survival shows?”

“Survival shows, so we can heckle their bad decisions.” I reply with an excited grin.

“You’re savage. Keep that glint in your eyes and teeth, kitten. That’s the kind of ferocity that wins.”

We spend hours and a dozen credits watching shit television and eating snacks before I doze off into the safety of familiarity.

***

“Wait, so you actually got me sponsored by the Organization?”

“Yep. They aren’t naïve enough to think that your success is due to my designs, but with Craig’s glowing reference, and the interrogation trainers putting in a word, Medvedev and the other Lieutenants are believing in investing in the algorithm folk.” She makes a face, but it’s guilty more than hiding.

“Out with it, Mar-ceee,” I emphasize the nick name from those that know her well.

“It sounds gross when you say it like that, and yes. It is okay if you call me Marcie. Anyway, Bell has been a boon to the algorithm’s choices as well. She has managed to improve Marcus’ performance, and has toned down some of the problem kids that she sees to busy her time and provide exposure.”

“Speaking of my girlfriend, when do I get to see her?”

“Blarg. If you only understood the political mess you two are. She is almost as smart as Jamie, but twice as productive. Bell has been a beast since you left, and Lambert, a lieutenant of Psionics, and the other feely types like Bell, thinks that reconnecting you two will decrease her usefulness as she rededicates her life to you.”

“She wouldn’t sacrifice her job like that, she’s too honorable for that and we both know it.”

“Yes, Kimber, we do. But we also know that to her, that is a job and without you, she has more bandwidth. With you, it’s tricky. She may want to completely dissolve her personality to be with you, she seemed willing last time. After the first two months she’s kept the topic of you buried as to not influence her reports. Who knows what she’s actually planning though.”

“She’s had her Track for almost six months, what more is there to change?”

Marcella sighs, palms my face in an awkward motion and pulls me in for a hug. “She’s already level seven. Spent her first module already, but at half-tier, she has the option for another module and a boon.”

“Yah, I read the primer Marcie, but if you deny us contact, she will postpone it, and at her tier up, it may just be worse!”

“Or, as the top brass hopes, she will be more reasonable when the deferral comes to fruition.”

I pinch my face in disgust. “I want to respect what people are trying to do, but I’m going to risk seeing her.”

“Which is why I scheduled her for a series of test to see if she could benefit from an aether infusion before her tier up in the future.” I search her eyes for a mote of deception and find none. She’s made a point not to lie to me, so I suppose I can trust her.

Deciding to change the subject, I ask her about her love life. “How are you progressing with Danielle?”

My sister swears, many times. “As well as can be expected without having confirmed no chance whatsoever. She is purposefully stringing me along because of how I behaved months ago. I think that today may be my only chance to reconcile.”

“I’ll help if I can.” I say off the cuff. When I look at Marcella, my statement meant everything to her.

“Really? Could you please? I really messed up, Kimber, and she’s kind of, no, she’s really important to me. I gave Medvedev a favor just to get her to see me again, for fucks sake.”

Oh. Oh wow. She’s deathly serious then. Agent Novarro on duty! “I got you fam.”

Be both flush and laugh at each other. I glomp for one more hug and she returns it before we knock on the doctor’s office.

“Doctor Medv . . . Kimber! Welcome back to society! SO good to see you. Come in, come in.” Danielle looks back to my mentor, “Fontaine. Close the door behind you.”

We walk down the familiar concrete walls of the casino’s basement before the halls open up into the treatment room. None of this is as warm and welcoming as the doctor’s demeanor---at least to me anyway.

“Danielle, could we . . .”

“Kimber, please. We’re here to talk about you. My personal experience has no bearing on this visit.”

“Doctor, you’re full of shit. I can wait though. So am I dying?”

“What? No! You’re not dying. I want you to sit on that table and mind your own business. Marcie, wait outside. We’ll resolve this, but not when it can influence my study.” To my great surprise, my mentor acquiesces without question. Danielle hits a button that engages a privacy shield.

“You’re not being fair to her. Or at least not making it obvious why you’re being a bitch.”

“Jesus, the both of you are pushy. Get up on that table.”

I stare at her, intending to be less than compliant. “Doc, I am wiling to sacrifice quite a lot for her, so is this a hill you’re willing to die on?”

“You know what? To hell with you and your stupid mentor.” She stomps into the other room, screams quite a few times and then reemerges from the closet.

I sit there and stare into the pained and past-searching eyes of six months ago.

“I need this study, and you are a promising candidate. So, I will explain, if you agree to go through the tests without being a pain.” I give her two thumbs up to be a compliant asshole.

She throws a suit at me. “This is a field-reactive aether-sensitive power suit. We use it in reverse to sense aether fields and then we use other metrics to collect a base-line. Please put it on.”

I don’t know why doctors need me naked for so many things, but yet again I strip and put on doctor stuff. Half an hour of tests ensue including my using the pre-talent ability I’ve developed, which resulted in her allowing to throw whipped topping at her head—very satisfying it was. To her surprise, I only asked relevant questions and kept quiet otherwise.

An hour later, she surrendered.

“Fine! I’ll give you the scenario and then you can ask questions okay?” I nod. “Ugh, I definitely don’t want to do this.”

“So, Marcie and I met while she was on a job, she had been involved with wet work before the system was introduced, and she’d rescued me from kidnappers when I was just into college and my dad was making a name for himself, as a gangster of course.

“I was smitten, and had made it obvious for years. I had given up, when two years into the Warlord Period, we are at the same outpost at Lake Powell and . . . we connected. Dad found out and had a fit, assigning Marcie to the far fields to keep her away from me. She relented until this year, almost five years later, and then she’s a complete ass to you.

“I don’t think she even knows this, but I have never forgotten her or moved on. Marcie’s been my ideal since I was seventeen. When I came back at Dad’s request, I thought she’d decided she wanted me for the long term. Turns out, it was for you. I was ready, am ready for the whole shebang: kids, house, family. I came back because I wanted that life with her, then to find she’s an absolute shit to the person she actually called me back for? I’m not even sure why I’m still here.”

I let her pout for a few minutes before I ask for permission to speak.

“Can I speak on her behalf?”

“From you? I might actually listen.” She scoffs and I smile in understanding.

“She saw me as a reason to corner your dad into getting you, but she traded a favor for it.” She gasped at that, but let me continue. “I don’t know how much you know about her sister, but she’s told me that I remind her of her sister and, when I first came to see you, she had no way to mediate the joy of seeing you again and my snarky teenage bullshit. She loves me like a sister, and it confused her at the time, before she put a label on it. Now, she knows, but that was well past when she offended you. She talks about you constantly by the way, and not about how ridiculous your genetics are.

“I can’t promise she’s thought about kids, but I know now, for a fact that she is thinking about family again. I know for certain, that if you give her something to call family, she will cherish it and you until her last breath. From a damaged creature that recognizes another, I can promise you that.”

I was focused on getting out what I had to say; I have no idea when Danielle started crying.

“You think she wants kids?”

“With you, she’d adopt the Moon and find a way to keep people from looking at it funny. She adores you Danielle. She’s waited months to make her case. Granted, you make her a bit of a mess, but I’d wager you find it cute.”

Danielle blushes furiously as my guess rings true.

“So, does this mean I get to call you Auntie?”

“You’re an unbelievable shit!” She blushes harder and flings cotton balls at my head.

“Dani and Marcie sitting in a tree, eff-you-cee . . .”

“Don’t you finish that. I swear, you are taking your sister duties too seriously.”

I scoff and run to the door. “MARCIE!! SHE LUUURVES YOU!!!” I get a boot in the ass for my troubles. My mentor jumps over my tumbling body toward the pretty doctor.

“Um, I uh, Lurve you too? No, I mean, yes. I do, I love you too. Fuck. Are my hands supposed to shake this much?!” Aww, she’s so cute. Those hands have killed dozens, but they shake when she’s twitterpated.

Danielle’s eyes soften and she smiles at my mentor. She cups her face to still her hands and turns her chin to look at her. “I think, that the world has conspired for us. It’d be a shame to waste the effort.” Before Marcella can say anything, Doctor Medvedev pulls her chin in for a kiss that lasts minutes. Or so I assume; I walked away nearly immediately. Good deed done for the day, time to work out and eat my weight and try to sneak a visit with Belle.