Juliet was pleased to find Honey waiting for her in the lobby of Tanaka’s building. Like Juliet, she wore exercise leggings, a t-shirt over her sports bra, and cross-trainers—Rutger hadn’t said anything about wearing a gi, and Juliet hadn’t wanted to give the practice session more gravity than it deserved; she still had no idea what to expect from the whole thing. Honey was sitting in the lounge area of the lobby and stood when Juliet walked in. She raised her hand, clutching her scabbarded sword, in greeting, and Juliet walked over to her.
“See you brought your monoblade. Or wait, his monoblade.” Honey grinned wickedly, knowing the whole thing made Juliet a little uncomfortable.
Juliet shrugged. “I don’t have another sword and didn’t want to show up empty-handed.” She gestured to the elevators. “Shall we?”
“I guess. You know I almost bailed on you. This is . . . weird.”
“I know!” Juliet was feeling the same way. In fact, if she hadn’t invited Honey, she might have chickened out during her commute from the industrial dome. She’d started thinking about Rutger, about his past and the weird reactions he’d had during their conversations, and the whole thing felt very heavy and very strange. How could she concentrate on learning martial arts with all of that baggage? “Thanks for sticking with me.”
“Well, I kept thinking that if this is weird for me, how hard would it be for you if I wasn’t here to back you up? You know?” Honey bumped her with her hip, then started for the elevators. “Besides, I’m out of shape. I can use some practice.”
When they stepped off the elevator onto Rutger’s floor, Juliet wasn’t surprised to find Frida waiting for them—Angel was still keeping tabs on her and knew she’d be there. Frida was dressed in sleek gray slacks and a silky turquoise blouse and, all in all, looked very pretty, neat, and professional. “Ladies! You’re right on time.” She stepped toward Honey, extending a hand, and Honey took it, smiling, though Juliet could see the smile didn’t extend to her eyes. She wondered if Frida could see that. “I’m Frida, Rutger’s . . . assistant.” She shrugged as though admitting she knew the term didn’t adequately encompass her role.
Honey nodded. “Lucky’s told me about you.”
“All good, I ho . . .”
“Definitely not,” Juliet interrupted with a smirk. She made a show of looking Frida up and down. “Not going to join us?”
“Oh no! Swords and I don’t mix. Rutger tried when I was younger, but I guess it’s not in my blood.” She shrugged and pointed down the hallway. “We’ve set up the dojo down this way. I hope you won’t mind, but when Rutger learned you’d invited Honey,” Frida paused and looked at Honey, nodding and smiling again, “he decided to add one of his permanent employees to the training. I think you know him, Lucky—at least you said you had eyes on him back on Callisto. Applebaum?”
“Oh, yeah. One of Rutger’s goons?”
Frida slowed her steps, shaking her head as she smiled hugely. “Oh, I love that. Next time Leo’s giving me grief, I’m going to tell him you called him that.”
“Leo? Leo Applebaum?” Honey gave Juliet a sideways look. “Is that a real name?”
“Oh, you two are too much! I love it.”
“So, why him? Why not Hawkins, too? Doesn’t Rutger have more guys working for him?”
Frida stopped before they came to a pair of closed doors and turned to look at Juliet. “Don’t repeat this, ‘cause he’s kind of sensitive, but Leo’s something of an orphan. Rutger picked him up when he was a teen. Hired him as a courier but kept him on and trained him. He’s been with him for more than ten years.” She frowned, then shrugged, and Juliet could tell she was justifying something to herself when she said, “It’s only fair you know something about him ‘cause he’s done plenty of research on you.” She turned to the door, resting a hand on the handle, but before she pulled it open, she looked back at Juliet. “We’re still on for lunch after your lesson?”
“Sure. Lunch or, if you know a good place, brunch. I haven’t eaten breakfast.”
Honey chuckled. “Might have been a mistake.”
Frida’s smile returned, and she pulled the door open. “Enjoy your lesson.” When Juliet stepped through, it was plain to see that the “dojo” must have cost Tanaka a small fortune to put together. Soft cork flooring lined the room, but it only extended about two meters from the wall; the center of the space was floored in beautiful tatami mats, the likes of which Juliet’s and Honey’s old sensei could only have dreamed of. It was an ample space, too; the tatami floored section was roughly a hundred square meters. One wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in Luna’s bright morning light and providing a view of the city that probably cost Tanaka fifty grand a month in rent.
Cedar benches lined the two walls near the door, but the far wall contained four closed wooden doors, labeled, from left to right: EQUIPMENT, SAUNA, LOCKERS, and VR TRAINING. While the floor was very traditional, the vaulted ceiling wasn’t. Juliet could see hooks, pulleys, and metal tracks that reminded her of those you might use to shift heavy engine equipment around a garage. Coiled ropes hung from the ceiling, too, and Juliet began to feel a predictive ache in her shoulders thinking about climbing them.
“Jeez,” Honey whispered. “He’s not half-assing this, is he?”
“I guess not.” Juliet turned to ask Frida where Tanaka was, but the door had silently closed, and she hadn’t followed them inside. Honey sat on a nearby bench and began removing her shoes.
“Should’ve worn our gis,” she grunted, tugging a shoe off.
“I’d have to buy one—lost it during one of my ‘moves.’ He didn’t say anything, anyway.” Juliet sat beside Honey and also removed her shoes.
“Is it warm in here?” Honey asked, leaning back against the wall.
“Definitely. Angel says it’s twenty-six Celsius. Probably wants us to sweat. Should we stretch?”
“Uh-uh. Not me,” Honey clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Let’s not fall for that trap; he hasn’t invited us onto his mat yet, and I don’t see a photo to bow to. Let’s wait to see how formal he expects us to be.” Honey’s words brought to mind Sensei’s dojo and the sword and photo of his father, which they all bowed to before every practice.
“Oh yeah. Good call . . .” She meant to say more, but the EQUIPMENT door opened, and Tanaka stepped out, followed closely by another man Juliet recognized as Applebaum—she’d seen photos and vids of him from Angel’s updates back when they’d been keeping closer tabs on Tanaka’s henchmen. Applebaum pushed a cart to the mat's edge, opposite where Honey and Juliet sat. He and Tanaka were both wearing gis, of course. Tanaka’s was black, and Applebaum’s was white. Juliet couldn’t help noticing that the cart was stacked with folded, white garments and some scabbarded swords.
Applebaum was a couple of inches taller than Tanaka with short brown hair, a clean-shaven, lean, angular face, and pale blue eyes that Juliet had to suspect were implants—she’d seen “piercing blue eyes” before, but these were just absurd. He was grinning as though he and Tanaka had just shared a joke, and something about that twisted half-smile was enough to make Juliet stare like an idiot.
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“Welcome to our dojo,” Tanaka said, interrupting Juliet’s ogling. She jerked her gaze over to him, saw him looking at Honey, and realized her friend had stood, leaving her alone on the bench.
“Thank you,” Honey said, bowing like she used to back when they’d studied with Sensei. Where had her snarky, “I’m going to try to throw this guy” attitude gone? Juliet stood up and nodded.
“Angel,” she subvocalized, “send a message to Honey.”
“Okay, saying?”
“Kiss ass.”
A second later, Honey elbowed her in the ribs, and Tanaka cleared his throat. “Please walk around the mat so I can give you your training uniforms.” They started moving, but Tanaka spoke again, “Bring your shoes and swords; you can put them in a locker when you change into your gis.”
As they knelt to pick up their shoes, Honey muttered, “Sorry, but this is all too formal. I can’t be disrespectful!”
“Uh-huh.”
When they approached the cart, Tanaka pointed to Applebaum. “This is Leo; he’ll be joining us for some of the training. He’s at an intermediate level and will serve as an assistant and sparring partner for Honey.” He frowned, swallowed, and looked directly into Honey’s face, clearly thinking something through. “Honey, before we get started, I want you to know that I regret allowing my heart to grow hard and working purely for financial gain without regard for the behavior or character of my employers. Forgive me.” As Honey stared at him, dumbfounded, he performed a deep bow, like the ones he’d done to Juliet back in the parking garage. Juliet sighed, familiar with his behavior by now, but Applebaum stepped back, looking almost shocked. Honey’s face wasn’t much different.
“It’s . . .” Honey shook her head. “It’s not all right, but I won’t dwell on it.” She glanced at Juliet almost nervously, and Juliet locked eyes with her nodding. She agreed—Tanaka’s current behavior wouldn’t excuse the things he’d done.
He straightened, pointedly ignoring Applebaum’s open-mouthed stare, and handed them each a folded gi and belt. “Take these, please. When you’ve changed, I will instruct you on the use and care of these practice swords. You may keep your other swords in your lockers. You won’t need them until we’ve had many lessons.”
“If,” Juliet said, tugging Honey’s elbow toward the locker room door. “If we have many lessons.”
Tanaka didn’t respond, but Applebaum’s noisy intake of breath through his nose was a good indicator of how seldom people spoke to Tanaka that way. The locker room wasn’t large, but it was more than spacious for the two of them. Just as in the dojo, a wide cedar bench ran down the middle of the space with banks of six lockers on either side, again constructed of cedar. They were beautiful, with recessed hinges and mechanisms that screamed quality, and Honey whistled appreciatively as she opened one, sniffing the interior. “Cedar?”
“Yeah.” Juliet’s eyes were on the open showers at the end of the room, just past a bank of four sinks. “Applebaum better not get any ideas about showering with us.”
Honey snorted, pulling her shirt over her head. “Who are you kidding? I saw your eyes bug out when you saw him.”
Juliet, sitting on the bench, shoved Honey’s hip, and she stumbled toward the far bank of lockers, unbalanced with her shirt over her face. “Don’t say stuff like that!”
“What?” Honey laughed, pulling her head and thick, bushy ponytail out of the shirt. “You think they’re watching us in here?” She turned around in her sports bra, holding her arms up. “Take a good look, boys!”
“You’re stupid!” Juliet couldn’t fight back her smile, though, as she got busy changing into the gi Tanaka had given her. It was a perfect fit, and disturbingly, so was Honey’s. “Did they call you for measurements or something?”
“Nope. You gave Frida my name yesterday, right? That’s pretty fast to get eyes on me and guess my size. Maybe they found my socials.” She shrugged, stuffing her clothes into a locker. “What’s the deal with that chick, anyway? You’re going to lunch with her?”
“I think she’s kinda lost with all the weird stuff Tanaka’s been doing and saying. Probably wants to see if I have any answers.”
“It’s not, like, a date, is it?”
“What?” Juliet laughed. “Nah, but I teased her about that when she asked me. I hope I didn’t lead her to think . . .” She trailed off, but Honey picked up the line of thought.
“You flirt a lot for a chick that never lets anyone get close. Watch yourself with that guy out there, though; he looks like a player.”
Juliet felt heat rise in her neck and cheeks and looked away. Honey knew her too well. “I’m . . . I don’t do that on purpose. Do I do that with you?”
“Sure, we play around, but we’re bros, you know?”
“Bros?” Juliet laughed. “I think I like it better when you call me sis.”
“Yeah, some people I follow are trying to make that happen, ‘bros’ for everyone, but it just doesn’t work that well, does it?” She pointed to the door. “We better get out there.”
“Yep.” Juliet tugged her belt, adjusting it so it was straight. “I look okay?”
“Like a bomb about to go off!” Honey winked and, laughing, they left the locker room and walked back to the cart and Tanaka. Applebaum was in the middle of the mat, stretching.
“Good. You tied your obis correctly.” He nodded and pointed at the three swords on the cart. They all had modern material on the grips and, in their shiny, faux-wood black scabbards, were about a meter long from tip to pommel, but one looked significantly different. The hilt was about an inch longer, the pommel was plasteel and had a data port on its side, and Juliet could tell from the scabbard that the blade would be slightly wider and straighter than the other two. It was shaped like her monoblade. “Honey, you’ve had some training?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
“I . . . have I earned that title?” He seemed to be asking himself as much as Honey and Juliet. Honey surprised her again by answering him.
“If you’re going to be teaching me sword work, then I’ll address you properly, Sensei.”
He locked eyes with her and nodded. Then he handed her one of the two identical swords. “Use this in training. It has a wireless transmitter that will work with the diagnostic scanning suite I’ve installed in this dojo. What I miss with my eyes, I will see later when I examine the data.” While Honey secured the sword in the folds of her belt, Tanaka picked up the other sword like hers and tossed it at Leo without a word. The man, mid-stretch, snatched it out of the air and slipped it into his belt. Tanaka picked up the last sword, peering at Juliet through narrowed eyes for a moment. Then he yanked the sword free of the scabbard and held the naked blade before her.
She moved to take it, but he shook his head. “Not yet. I must explain this one. Like your friend’s sword, it is tied to the diagnostic software in this dojo, but it has other functions. You’re training to wield a monoblade, so your practice weapon is different from Honey’s and Leo’s, and so will your training be.”
“Okay . . .” Juliet dragged the word out, giving Honey a quick, uncertain glance.
“This weapon is not sharp, but it will train you to respect its edge. Hold out your palm.”
“My palm?” Juliet frowned. What was he going to do? Cut her? Shock her? Did he know she had a cybernetic hand? Did he know how fast she was? Shrugging, she held out her right palm, and he slowly and deliberately moved the sword above it, edge down.
He must have read the tension in her arm and posture because he said, “Don’t pull away. This won’t harm you.” Then he pressed the blade against her palm and pulled it along her flesh. It didn’t hurt. She could feel the smooth, unsharpened edge, but when he lifted the sword away, she had a long, neon-orange line on her palm. “This sword has a nanomolecular photochromic dye disbursed from its blade with the slightest pressure. Anytime you touch anything with it, a mark will be left behind.” He contemplated momentarily, then added, “Unless you use it in the dark—the dye is light-activated. In any case, it will make it clear when you are undisciplined with the edge of your sword, something a monoblade wielder can never afford.”
Juliet rubbed at the bright orange line, smearing it around her palm. “What if Honey wants to use a mono . . .”
“I don’t.”
Juliet glared at her. “Why?”
“They’re dangerous, and they draw attention. I’m not looking to get challenged by every up-and-coming samurai-wannabe operator. I’m not really, you know, working right now, either.”
Juliet’s glare didn’t fade as she looked at Applebaum. Tanaka anticipated her question, however. “He’ll never wield a monoblade—too big and clumsy. He’s nearly reached his skill ceiling.”
“Wow. Such loving encouragement.” Applebaum had a surprisingly thick Australian accent, which made Juliet wonder just where he’d gotten it. Hadn’t Frida said he’d been with Tanaka for ten years? She supposed he could’ve had it already.
Juliet looked back to Tanaka, her frown still firmly in place. “So, what? You’re going to keep track of all my screwups?” She held up her orange-striped hand in illustration.
“Hai. How else will you learn? Each day after practice, you’ll spend extra time with drills, the length of which will depend on how many of these you make.” He slapped her hand in illustration, and Juliet was startled by how quickly he did it—no windup, no hint that he was about to do it, just a sudden, lightning-fast movement. “This blade is designed to perfectly mimic the weight and balance of your monoblade. Until we complete your training or you decide to quit, I want you to carry this weapon. Take it everywhere—shopping, eating, on dates, in the shower, to bed. Everywhere.” He growled the final “everywhere,” saying it in a deep, commanding tone that startled her; she’d grown used to his apologetic, almost meek demeanor.
He smoothly sheathed the blade and then handed it to her. She took the scabbard in one hand and the hilt in the other. After a quick glance at Honey, she bowed. “I will, Sensei.”
He nodded, and though he had a practiced, well-maintained stoic expression, Juliet saw something positive glint behind his eyes. “Good. Now, when you step onto the mat, always bow toward the center. We do not have a founder to honor . . .” He kept speaking, but Juliet was suddenly struck by a memory of him as a little boy, secretly watching the old master teaching the corpo kids how to use swords. She felt how awed he’d been, how desperately he’d wanted that man to teach him, and how stunned and overwhelmed he’d felt when the master took him in and showed him the only kindness he could remember in his young life. The memory was so vivid, it felt like it was hers, and Juliet took a minute to come back to reality. “. . . begin with the basics, and if you already know what we’re learning, then consider it a refresher.”
Juliet listened to him describing what he wanted, how he wanted them to stand, how to hold their swords, and so on, but she kept thinking about that memory. It bothered her because she wasn’t sure if she’d picked it up with the lattice or if she was remembering it from when she’d slipped into Tanaka’s memories back when she’d confronted him in the parking garage. She felt like she’d gotten through her private ordeal without reacting, but when she looked to her right, checking her posture compared to Honey’s, she saw Applebaum giving her a sidelong look, and his eyes said a lot—speculative, suspicious, and worst of all, concerned.
“Juliet,” Angel asked, interrupting her scattered thoughts, “how much do you want me to help you with these sword lessons? Shall I keep hands-off, or would you like my assistance when it comes to . . .”
“Maximum assistance, Angel. Let’s master this sword business ASAP.”