When Juliet woke the next day, sometime around noon, she had vague, disjointed memories of picking up her bike, riding back to the hangar, and stumbling to bed, more asleep on her feet than awake. Then she remembered struggling to sleep, too many thoughts running through her mind—horror show images from the depths of Life-Ultra and, of course, scenarios involving Leo Applebaum. Eventually, though, her exhaustion had claimed her, and she’d slept like the dead.

Lying there, stretching, yawning, and luxuriating in the comfort of her acceleration couch, she had kind of a numb, warm feeling all over her body that told her she’d been sleeping very hard. “God, I feel good,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes and glancing around for something to drink.

Angel replied immediately, “Good morning, Juliet! Your body was ready for some rest.”

She snagged a half-empty electrolyte pouch from atop a stack of book boxes and swished it in her mouth before saying, “Any messages?”

“Hines is requesting an update. Frida posted a group message saying Tanaka’s meetings with the LCC were successful and details would be provided at a mandatory team meeting on Monday. She also provided an update on Barns and Hawkins and their efforts to collect the corpo-sec officers on the list Asia Kills and Comet took from Duffy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. They’ve already captured seven and have turned them, along with your other prisoners, over to bounty brokers for transport to New Atlas on Titan.”

“Wait? We’re still doing that? Even with the developments at Life-Ultra?”

“Apparently. Information Dora Lee took from Lieutenant Channing provided the link they needed. One of their corrupt business fronts was selling stolen goods to distributors who serve the New Atlas market.”

“Huh, and they already got seven in addition to Channing?”

“Yes. They worked through the night, trying to surprise as many as possible before word could get out. I believe they’re still on the job.”

Juliet sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the bunk. “Shouldn’t we help?”

“While I understand the sentiment, Frida reiterated that you and Applebaum are not to work today. Apparently, it’s standard protocol to give operators involved in events like those you went through last night some time off.”

“Standard protocol for those guys, maybe, but I’m used to getting back in the saddle . . .”

“Juliet, just because you’ve been forced to operate like that in the past doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

Juliet yawned and stood, stumbling a little as she walked to her bathroom. “Well, can you message Barns and Hawkins? Ask ‘em how things are going.”

“Of course, but I wasn’t done reviewing your messages.” Juliet used the toilet as Angel continued, “You have a message from Honey. Shall I play it?”

“Yeah.” Juliet watched as a window opened on her AUI, and Honey’s face appeared. Her background was blurred, but she looked happy and relaxed.

“Hey, J. I’m so sorry to spring this on you. I wouldn’t do it, but it kind of got sprung on me, too. Peter’s been putting off his trip to Mars, and I was starting to think he wasn’t going to go this year, but now he’s saying that we have to leave on Monday. Something’s up with one of the factories he ‘inherited’ from Alexander. Some workers are striking, and he wants to have a look to see what the mess is all about—I don’t think he trusts the manager's reports. Anyway, we’ll probably be staying at Alexander’s place in New Galveston, and, of course, Lilia is anxious to go. She’s starting to have . . . memories of that place. It wouldn’t matter, anyway, because Peter wouldn’t leave her behind. So, that means I’m going, too. We leave Monday super early.

“I know, a while back, I suggested the idea of you flying escort for us, but I know you’re also busy right now. It was just an idea I had before I knew how things worked, anyway—we’re taking a passenger liner, and they have their own security. Anyway, if you get this message and aren’t too busy in the morning, maybe we can grab breakfast.”

Juliet closed the window and frowned. “Angel, when did this come in?”

“At 0215.”

“Two in the morning? Doesn’t that all seem really sudden? Why didn’t you wake me up in time for breakfast? Can you call Honey for me, please?” Juliet stood, flushed, and started brushing her teeth.

“Yes, it seems sudden. I didn’t wake you because you needed your rest! I’m sure she can change her breakfast idea to lunch. I’m trying to connect right now . . .”

The connection tone sounded and cut off before it could finish. Honey’s face appeared in a new window, “J?” She sounded a little breathless, and her eyes were focused on other things, darting around.

“Hey, Honey. Sorry, I slept through breakfast, um . . .”

“Don’t worry! I’m just packing right now. I guess we’re going to be gone a while, and it’s kind of a big job packing for a household.”

Juliet frowned. “A household?”

“Well, Lilia and I, and, yeah, Peter. He doesn’t trust his assistants with his personal things. He’s very paranoid after the whole . . . you know.”

Juliet gave up on brushing her teeth and rinsed her brush. “So, this is all really sudden, and it has me feeling paranoid, too, Honey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Really! I’m only annoyed about how, as you said, sudden everything is. I thought I’d have lots of time to plan for the trip and maybe talk you into coming!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously, I was working up to the idea, hoping I could get you to come check things out around Mars. There’s a lot of work there, you know?”

“I . . .” Juliet wasn’t sure how to respond, but Honey laughed again, bailing her out.

“I know, I know. You can’t drop everything and leave in one day. Maybe when things calm down a little? Maybe you can swing over and spend a week? Make a vacation of it?”

“Yes! Of course! I’d like to see Mars. Like you said, though, I’ve got things to take care of here. Are you really going to be gone that long? Maybe you’ll be back by the time I get sorted . . .”

“He’s talking like it’s going to be months. At least. I think the factory strike is the excuse he wanted to get moving, but he also thinks he and Lilia will be safer there.”

“Can we meet still? Are you hungry?”

Honey stopped what she was doing and looked straight at Juliet, her expression making clear what she was about to say before the words arrived, “J, I’m so sorry, but there’s no way. I have so much to do. Lilia has three appointments with specialists this afternoon, and . . . I’m sorry.” She shrugged and shook her head, a rueful smile on her face.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Damn it, Honey! You know how this makes me feel, right? After everything you’ve been through? This feels like you leaving for Luna all over again. Are you going to disappear on me?”

“No! No, I promise; nobody’s holding a gun on me!” She laughed again, and Juliet could see the genuine amusement in her eyes. She didn’t seem stressed.

“I never got you a present,” Juliet lamely sighed.

“What?”

“I was going to get you something just right, something that jumped out at me. You know, after you left me that T-shirt.”

“Well, then, that just means you’ll have to come visit!” Honey winked, and Juliet could see she was trying hard to reassure her.

“Tanaka’s going to be disappointed. He’s always talking about how he wished Leo could have learned the way you do . . . oh, God, Honey, I have to tell you about Leo!”

“What?” Honey’s eyes widened, and her PAI manipulated the image to make it look like she was leaning close.

“Last night, he totally came onto me. Remember what he said before? About how we weren’t compatible or whatever? I guess it was hot air.”

Honey laughed. “I saw that coming. What’d you do? Punch him?”

“Not exactly.” Juliet laughed. “I thought about it a lot before I went to sleep—he’s certainly handsome, and if he could stop acting like such a schoolboy . . . It’s a bad idea, though. Maybe in a different life.” To herself, she added the real reason she was cooling on the idea—maybe if she didn’t want to work with him and his team.

“You know, I think you need some love in your life, sis, but I’m not a big fan of that guy. I’m inclined to agree. Bad idea.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling me that, and I’ll give in to his advances. You know how it goes—the heart wants what everyone says the heart can’t have.” Juliet grinned wryly, trying to ensure Honey could hear the joke in her words.

Of course, her friend knew exactly what to say, laughing over the words, “In that case, please, go sleep with Applebaum. Please!” They both laughed for a few seconds, then Honey sobered up and said, “Seriously, sis. I hope you find the right one. I’ll be there for you. Also, I’ll tell you something one of Lilia’s tutors said to her that really struck a chord with me: Don’t let perfection be the enemy of good. Wish I knew who to credit . . .”

“Voltaire,” Angel said.

Juliet groaned and said, “First you tell me ‘not Applebaum,’ then you tell me not to be picky? What do I do, Honey?”

“Oh, be picky! Be picky, J, but not too picky.” Honey laughed at the frustration creasing Juliet’s brows. “Hey, sis, I’m going to send you messages all the time, and you better send some my way, okay? Let’s work on making a visit happen sooner rather than later, yeah?”

Juliet smiled and winked. “Wrapping up the call, huh?”

“I’m so busy!” Honey cried, “Sorry!”

“Don’t worry. I promise to send you a lot of vids showing you everything you’re missing out on. Love you, sis.”

“Love you, too!” Honey smiled, blew a kiss, and then the call cut out.

“Oh, God, Angel. Why do I feel so empty all of a sudden?”

“Because we’re going to miss Honey. It was fun seeing her at sword training and having breakfast or lunch with her. It’s not forever, though.”

“Yeah. I hope you’re right.” Juliet couldn’t help the sudden melancholic shift of her mood; she’d seen too many people die or disappear in the last couple of years to accept that Honey going all the way to Mars wasn’t a big deal. “And I slept through the last chance to hang with her.”

“That’s my fault.” Angel’s guilty tone wasn’t anything Juliet wanted to hear.

“Oh, hush. It’s not your fault. You had good intentions; if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Peter Voronov’s. He could’ve given Honey a few days to get ready.”

“Thank you,” Angel replied. “You’re right.” As Juliet laughed, shaking her head, Angel added, “By the way, you have two more messages waiting.”

“What?” Juliet had gotten so caught up in Honey’s business that she’d forgotten she was going through messages. “More?”

“Yes. You asked me to reach out to the jewelry artist from the flea market, Raven Rose. Well, she got back to you. It’s just a text message—she says your piece is ready, and you can pick it up at her studio. Alternatively, she can courier it to you, or you can meet her at the flea market.”

“Oh, cool! I almost forgot about that thing. Did she say when she’d be in her studio?”

“No, but from her net page, it looks like she lives there.”

“All right, maybe we should swing by today. I’m not supposed to ‘work,’ after all.” Juliet fished through her piles of laundry, trying to remember which one was clean. “The last message, Angel?”

“Oh, it’s from Athena.”

“What?” Juliet cried.

“It’s not urgent! She’s just checking in and introducing her alter-ego . . .”

“What?” Juliet asked again, her mind reeling.

“It’s easier if I just show you the message.” Again, a vid window appeared in her AUI, showing a woman’s face. She was middle-aged and beautiful, wearing designer specs, minimal makeup, and her hair pulled back into a tight, business-like bun.

She smiled and, in a cultured-sounding, vaguely Mediterranean accent, said, “Hello, Juliet. I’ve been spending some time accessing the local nets and exploring the changes in the Sol System since I was last out and about. I’ve been using this identity I created: Selene Kostas, an independent researcher specializing in particle physics. It's not that her background is important to you, but I want you to know that it’s very comprehensively built, and I’m quite certain no one will ever trace her online interactions back to me. On that note, if you must reach me, please do so through this identity; I can assure you that no one will ever trace your interactions with me. I don’t have anything important for you right now, but I thought you should know what I’m up to. Looking forward to the next time you and Angel visit the ship. Bye for now.”

“Huh.” Juliet flicked the window closed. “Nothing to worry about, right?”

“I don’t think so.” Juliet recognized Angel’s tone—she was basically saying she hadn’t been worried, but now Juliet was making her wonder if she’d missed something.

Juliet tried to reassure her, “I mean, what can we do? We’ve decided to trust her. We have to accept that she’s not our prisoner.”

Angel didn’t say anything, but Juliet had noticed lately that she was beginning to understand Angel’s different degrees of silence. It was almost like she was learning to understand her emotions, and, for a minute, she stood there, wondering about the implications of that. Was she growing so entwined with Angel that the two of them could sense each other’s feelings? Angel certainly seemed to know when Juliet was upset or amused or . . . aroused. As embarrassing as the thought was, she’d definitely called Juliet out on it the night before.

Sighing, shaking her head, and trying to move forward, she stepped into her jeans, threw on a T-shirt, and then, grunting and wondering why she hadn’t done it before the jeans, pulled on some socks. She might have wandered around that way, but living in a gunship in the middle of a rebuild was not conducive to barefoot walking. So, boots clomping, she made her way through the ship and out into the hangar, wondering what Aya was up to.

“Aya!” she called, walking around the ship toward the “living” area of the hangar. The salvage tech didn’t reply, but Juliet heard the hissing sound of a spray gun and smelled the definite chemical tang of lacquer in the air. Something told her the smell would have been a lot stronger if Angel wasn’t filtering it with her olfactory implants. As she rounded the stack of crates blocking her view, she saw the cloud hanging in the air over at the far end of the hangar where Aya had been working on the ship panels. “Aya!” she yelled again, catching sight of her friend in the cloud, goggles and respirator hiding her face.

“Don’t come over here!” her voice cried out, muffled by the respirator. She rushed to grab a tarp and pulled it over the section of scaffolding where she’d been working. Juliet stopped, cocking her head, the confusion she felt evident on her face.

“Oh,” Angel said, “I didn’t know she was starting that already . . .”

“Hey!” Aya said, jogging over, her respirator hanging from her hand. “Didn’t your PAI tell you to stay away from the paint project?”

“Huh?” Juliet said to them both. Before either could answer, she caught sight of Aya’s arm—her right hand and forearm were metallic pink, and the color drew Juliet’s eyes to Aya’s, which were now a matching shade of pink rather than yellow. The salvage tech grinned and flexed her new hand into a thumbs-up.

“You like it?”

“I love the color on you—the eyes too! Um, tell me about it.” Juliet stepped closer, holding out her hand and taking Aya’s new one in hers. She could see it was high quality—the metallic casing carried a tiny electric charge, and she knew it was passing sensory details along to Aya’s brain just like flesh or, in Juliet’s case, synth-flesh would do. More than that, the tiny joints of her fingers, her knuckles, even her wrist looked like delicate perfection—no exposed wires or rough plasteel joints here; this was a work of art. “God, that’s shiny,” Juliet breathed, impressed more than she’d expected to be.

Aya couldn’t contain herself. She started talking, and the pace of her explanation continued to pick up until she finished in a breathy rush. “My eyes are new too, and the PAI . . . Lucky, my PAI was named Hector by the manufacturer, and I kept him that way. He’s so cool! He can do so much more than my old one, and with my new eyes, my AUI is so detailed! He can pair with my new hand, too, and that’s how I was doing your surprise! My painting skills multiplied by a hundred!”

“Surprise?” Again, Juliet glanced over at the tarped-off section of scaffolding.

“Yes! Do not go over there!” Aya laughed. “Angel told me she’d warn you!”

“I thought she was starting next week!” Angel grumbled.

“You’ve been talking to Angel?”

“Yeah, I wanted some ideas, and I figured she knew you better than anyone. I hear you talking to her all the time from your bunk. Don’t feel bad! Now that I have Hector, I can see how nice it is to chat with an actually smart PAI.”

“Well, but why?” Juliet jerked her thumb at the tarp. “Why the surprise?”

“Because there’s no way I could afford these eyes and this hand. I know your doc cut me a deal. Not to mention Hector! He’s so cool!” Aya’s smile was infectious, and Juliet felt herself grinning along with her.

“So, will this hand do everything you wanted? Can you tighten bolts with it?”

“Oh yes! And, like I said, I can program routines into it using Hector. Like, I can stuff it into a tight space, and it’ll find the wires I need to plug in or remove, or whatever. The sensations from it are amazingly accurate! I can stuff my hand into a jar of marbles, and Hector will know how many marbles I touched!”

“Jeez! That’s, like, really cool . . .” Juliet was starting to wonder if she should upgrade her arm.

“I could probably pull that off with your current arm,” Angel said, a defensive note in her voice.

Juliet laughed. “Angel says she can do that too, for the record. So, listen, Aya,” she put her arm over the smaller woman’s shoulders and started guiding her toward the kitchen area. “I want to grab a bite, but then I’m going to visit a kind of artsy jewelry shop. Can you take a break from your painting and go for a ride with me?”

“On your bike?” Aya squealed, “Finally?”

“That’s right . . .”

“I have a helmet!” Aya said, unable to wait for Juliet to get to whatever point she was about to make. She rushed past her, aiming for the back of the ship, calling out, “I bought a helmet on the MoonTrader app when you brought that bike home!”

“She’s a step ahead of you,” Angel chuckled.

“I guess so! Glad I thought to invite her. Apparently, she’s been waiting.” Juliet walked to the kitchen area. “Did you start the coffee?”

“It was already made, though it might be too old . . .”

“As long as it’s warm, Angel.” Juliet dug around in the fridge until she found her vanilla creamer. “Not like I’m going to taste it much with this stuff.”

“Your barista friend on Callisto would be heartbroken.”

Juliet snorted. “If this coffee were decent, I wouldn’t add this stuff.”

She heard Aya’s steps rapidly approaching as she hurried back from the ship. “What do you think?”

Juliet turned to see her new helmet—a plain, visorless motorcycle helmet with sparkly silver paint. It looked so much like the helmet Juliet had picked up at the swap meet in Tucson a million years ago that she felt a wave of déjà vu so strong, she had to grip the table for balance. “Wow. I mean, wow, Aya. That’s . . .”

“Shiny?” Aya asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Juliet smiled and poured her creamer into her cup. “Yeah. One hundred percent, shiny, certified chrome.”