As Barns took her jacket, Juliet straightened and looked at Charles Books, glaring into his silver irises, wondering what the deal was with older mercs and metallic eyes. Hers were a soft, natural green that she felt complemented her current choice of wavy, shoulder-length auburn hair—a much more nuanced look, if you asked her, than the clichéd grizzled whiskers and mirrored eyes in front of her. “Charles, or is it Charlie?”
“People call me Books,” he grunted, stepping closer, glancing left and right as though gathering steam from the approving stares of his friends.
Their muttered encouragement didn’t help to diffuse things. Juliet caught phrases like, “Show her what you’ve got, Books!” or “Teach her some manners!” and “Screw that poser bitch!” Tanaka had warned her about this—walking around with a monoblade was different than walking around with a powerful handgun or rifle. There was something about the culture that drew out the crazies, and there was no denying that a million-bit sword could make people do stupid things.
As the thought of her sword’s value crossed her mind, Juliet looked again at Charlie’s katana, frowning. Was it a monoblade? She thought maybe she could see the top lip of a monofilament edge guard. “Is that even a monoblade, Books?” she asked, now that they were face to face, only a few meters apart.
He scowled. “If the Red Wolf taught you, he would have told you about me. You should recognize this blade.”
“First of all, he did teach me. Second, I don’t know what you think you know about him, but he’s not the type to spin stories about other fighters and their swords. Books, I promise you: he gave me these marks. I’ll give you one more chance to back down.” Juliet stood ready, her balance perfectly set to react or strike. In her mind, she was already reaching for her sword, drawing it, and cutting in one fluid motion. A “nukiuchi,” as Tanaka called the move. The crowd grew hushed as Books stared at her, contemplating her words.
In the quiet, a little girl’s voice, clear as a bell, asked, “Mom, is something bad going to happen?” The words hit Juliet like a hammer. She’d been setting herself up to slice this man in half; what kind of nightmare fodder would that be for a child?
“Get your kid out of here,” she growled. Her words had an impact, and not just on the woman who picked up the little girl and hurried away. Doubt fell over Charles Books like a shadow. He shifted, his eyes darted left and right, and his posture suddenly relaxed. He’d been leaning forward aggressively, one hand on the hilt of his sword, but now he straightened and let his hand hang loose.
Softly, he asked, “You’re not lying, are you?”
Juliet jerked her head in negation, “Nope.”
Books set his mouth in a firm line and held out his hand, “Peace, then.”
Juliet nodded, relaxing, and took his hand, shaking it. She could feel the tell-tale callouses of a lifetime of sword work. As they shook and Books grinned fiercely, Juliet returned the smile, and the tension in the crowd broke like a dam. People laughed in relief, while others groused, disappointed that they wouldn’t see a fight. Barns stepped up beside her, his arms folded over her jacket, and grunted, “Does this mean we can get our shopping done?”
Books and Juliet released each other’s hands, and she chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I wish the Wolf would contact me,” Books said. “You have to put yourself in my shoes—" He started to say, but Juliet cut him off, still stressed by the situation.
“No, I don’t.” She wanted to say more. She wanted to lecture him about how stupid it was to feel the need to fight over bragging rights, to say you were a better sword fighter than so-and-so, or to earn some clout in the secret sword-fighting club that seemed to be ubiquitous in the Sol System. She also knew her words would fall on deaf ears; this man had conceded; he wasn’t willing to face her in a duel, so, in a way, he’d given her some street cred, something to back up the markings that Tanaka had given her.
The gang of leather-clad bikers had gathered close, jostling each other, some chuckling, some teasing Charles. Juliet wanted to clear out, wanted to get out of the crowd before something else set them off, but Charles had other ideas. He ignored the teasing of his buddies and stepped closer to her so he could be heard over the noise of all the side conversations. “Well, you have to tell me your name. People will talk about how I backed down. They’re going to talk about you.”
Juliet sighed and shrugged. “You can call me Lucky.” She glared around the crowd of leather-clad men and women and growled, “Now, am I going to have to cut my way out of here?”
“Back off! You heard her!” Charles hollered, suddenly her biggest supporter. As she and Barns moved through the thinning crowd to the co-op, she heard a particularly strident voice challenge him.
“Why’d you back down, Books?”
Angel caught Juliet’s interest and upped the gain on her auditory implants so she could hear the man’s hushed reply, “I saw him in there when she yelled about the little girl. I swear it was like looking into the Wolf’s eyes. I’ll recognize that look until the day I die.”
“That was interesting.” Barns grabbed one of the shopping carts lined up just inside the door.
“Like you said, this whole subculture is weird. I’m just glad I didn’t have to slice anyone up today.”
Barns chuckled. “Eh, there’s still plenty of daylight left.”
Juliet shook her head with a tsk. “Don’t jinx me, Barns. C’mon, let’s get this done and get our package back to Lee.” He nodded, and that’s what they did, hurrying through the aisles, grabbing things for snacks, lots of energy drinks and beer, and meat to grill for dinner, including some “vat-grown” burger patties to appease Hawkins. All the while, Juliet was aware of the eyes on her. The shoppers and workers who’d seen the face-off in the street outside were very interested in her.
It made her nervous, mostly because she was still hiding from WBD, but she took comfort in knowing that Angel was scrambling her face, and she had a legit operator ID with no ties to her old self. “Probably shouldn’t come back here,” she remarked as they walked to the SUV with a big box of supplies.
“Yeah. Not the best idea to become a local celebrity when you’re working covert ops.”
“Just make sure no one follows us back to the house.”
“Oh? Am I driving again?”
Juliet nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna call Tanaka.” She climbed into the passenger seat and, as Barns got the SUV rolling, waited for Angel to make the connection. A few seconds later, a window appeared on her AUI, showing Tanaka in a plastic seat with a sterile, white wall behind him.
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“Lucky, I got your message. Have you delivered the chip to Lee?”
“No, not yet. We’re on our way to her now. Are you with Leo? That chair looks like it belongs in a waiting room.”
“Yes. He’s doing well. The operation was good, and he’s getting a rapid-healing infusion.”
Leo’s voice came from the background, “Hey, you talking to her? Tell her thanks . . .” Juliet saw his arm wave beside Tanaka, but the older man frowned and stood, and the background blurred as he left the room.
When he came to a stop in what looked like an empty corridor, he asked, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, I just had a run-in with that sword guy again. He called me out to a duel but backed down at the last minute. This time, he shook my hand and asked for peace in front of a big crowd, so I think I’m done with him.”
“Oh?” Tanaka raised an eyebrow, and Juliet knew he was waiting for the reason she’d called.
“He acted like he knew you, acted like I should recognize his sword.”
“Did you get his name?”
“Charles Books. The sword looked almost like a regular katana but well-used, and I think I could just see a monofilament edge guard on the scabbard . . .” She trailed off as Tanaka’s eyes widened, and he cursed in Japanese. When he closed his eyes and rubbed his temple instead of speaking, Juliet pressed, “What?”
“I know him. He’s . . . an old friend. That used to be my sword, and I’m very glad you didn’t fight.”
Juliet suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. How close had she come to underestimating someone truly dangerous? “He’s good?”
“He beat me to win that sword. Of course, we only dueled to the first cut, and we weren’t using monoblades—a friendly competition. I suppose it didn’t help that we were both drunk. In any case, I’m glad neither of you is dead today.”
Juliet scowled, suddenly feeling more than a little angry at the whole stupid situation. “Maybe you should send me a list of guys not to mess with, huh? By the way, he thinks you’re dead. Maybe you ought to reach out.”
“I didn’t know he was in that area. I didn’t know he was still active . . .” Tanaka sighed, clenched a fist until his knuckles popped, then nodded. “I will contact him. I’m sorry, Lucky. I neglected part of your training by not educating you about some of the masters who roam the Sol System.”
“It’s fine—”
“No,” he shook his head sharply, “it isn’t. When you return, I will remedy that gap in your knowledge.” He looked sort of pained, and Juliet laughed.
“You’re trying to figure out how to bow to me on a vid call, aren’t you?”
“Hai,” he chuckled.
“Okay, forget it for now. I’ll be in touch as soon as Dora’s made some progress.” Juliet waved, then cut the connection and flopped back in the seat, sighing heavily.
“Something wrong?” Barns was in the dark because she’d been subvocalizing for most of the call.
“Just learned that the guy who challenged me beat Tanaka once. I’m damn glad he backed down.”
“Shit! You think he would’ve won?” Of course, his unspoken question was whether Juliet could beat Tanaka. If Juliet were being honest, the answer was a resounding “maybe.” Tanaka had more trained skill and knew more maneuvers, feints, parries, gambits—you name it. Juliet, on the other hand, was a touch faster and had Angel to fill in where experience failed her. They’d both “won” engagements with practice swords, but Juliet often felt like Tanaka wasn’t giving a hundred percent.
“Let’s put it this way,” she finally answered, closing her eyes and letting the hum of the tires on the road relax her, “it wouldn’t have been a walk in the park, and it might have gotten really ugly.”
“So that old sword was a monoblade? Talk about a sleeper.”
“Tanaka said it used to be his sword.”
“Sheeyit! Small world!” Barns whistled appreciatively, then reached over and flipped the vehicle’s sound system on, sending a rowdy mix of rock and roll and country music through the speakers as he pressed down on the accelerator. “Forget it! We’re celebrating, remember?”
“Right!” Juliet laughed, turning to glance behind the SUV, happy to see an empty roadway. When they arrived at the little house nestled in the hillside, Hawkins dropped out of a nearby tree and jogged over to help carry the box of supplies into the house. Barns grabbed his rifle, and they were halfway to the door when Dora came out, a look of eagerness in her black eyes. Juliet tossed her Ghoul’s old PAI. “You know what you’re doing?”
“Yes! I got your instructions: sequester the daemons, figure out how they’re reporting data, and then replicate our own model. It’ll take me a while to do safely, but I can do it.”
“Cool.” Juliet held out a fist, and Dora bumped knuckles with her.
“I’ll be in my rig. Um,” she glanced at the box of groceries, “can you guys let me know when the steaks are done?”
“Will do!”
While Dora worked, Juliet and the boys set up a game of horseshoes they found in the rental's garage. They spent the afternoon drinking beer, listening to music, and proving that enhanced muscles and high-end, AI-assisted targeting routines made games like horseshoes a little too easy. Of course, that just encouraged them to try to level the playing field using things like blindfolds, weights on their wrists, and spinning each other until they were dizzy before each throw. When that wasn’t enough, Barns insisted on beer horseshoes, adding a new rule that required each participant to chug a beer before throwing.
Juliet worried they were getting too loud or drinking too much, but Hawkins had a drone in the sky and had set up dozens of perimeter sensors and alarms. More than that, the three of them did a good job of pacing themselves; they were never more than buzzed, thanks to their nanites filtering a lot of the alcohol. At one point, she remarked that it wasn’t fair that Dora was the only one working, but Barns snorted. “She never feels bad about surfing the nets while we do the heavy lifting.”
“Besides,” Hawkins added in his flat, hard voice, “she’s having fun. I promise you that.”
Dora attested to that when they broke her out of the rig in the early evening to eat with them. She was bleary-eyed and wore a sheen of sweat but had a contented look that Juliet hadn’t seen on her before. As she ate, she regaled them with tales of ICE circumventions, sequestered “dummy domains,” and a dozen other things Juliet hadn’t heard of. In the end, though, she summarized by saying, “Progress is good. I’ve got the main daemon pacified, but there were three others that were there simply to provide authentication codes to the listener.”
“So if you don’t copy them all, they’ll know something’s up?” Juliet guessed.
“Exactly! And they’re some elegant bits of code. I haven’t worked on something like this in a long, long time. Thanks for bringing this to me, Lucky.”
“I’m not surprised,” Angel said quietly to Juliet, “WBD created me, after all.”
Juliet swallowed her bite and subvocalized, “Before we use Dora’s work, I’m going to plug you in so you can see exactly what she’s done. I’d like to have you double-check everything.”
“Yes, I’d appreciate that,” Angel replied. Then their side conversation was drowned out by Barns and Hawkins reminiscing about a time Dora had circumvented the security on a target’s penthouse suite, only to find that she’d overlooked some “doll” synths that the target had modified into security personnel. Apparently, they’d given Leo and Barns a run for their money. After an hour, Dora used the restroom and then returned to her rig, saying she wanted to get her job done before morning.
After that, Juliet, Hawkins, and Barns sat on the little front deck for a while, enjoying the cool evening air, mostly in silence. Barns was the only one still drinking alcohol. Hawkins had drawn the first watch and switched to energy drinks after dinner. Juliet was drinking water at Angel’s urging. After a while, her full belly, busy day, and long afternoon of drinking got the better of her, and she said goodnight, heading to her room.
She brushed her teeth, then sat on the edge of the bed, working on her boots while asking Angel, “Did you leave a note for Ghoul? I mean, with instructions on how to get ahold of us?”
“Yes. I sent a message to G1111 on the commune’s message board, just as she instructed.”
“Thanks,” Juliet grunted, pulling off her second boot and letting it thump to the ground. She stood, shimmied out of her jeans, and then flopped down on the rental home’s very comfortable mattress.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” Angel asked, maybe a slight hesitation in her voice.
“Like me kissing someone who was ‘just a friend,’ or maybe almost getting into a monoblade fight with an apparent master swordsman?” Juliet made air quotes and had more than a touch of snark in her voice.
“If you’re not in the mood to talk . . .”
“No, Angel. I’m sorry. You deserve to hear how I’m feeling. With Ghoul, I feel confused but happy and hopeful. If nothing else, I know she doesn’t hate me. I’m not saying she’s ‘the one,’ you know? Still, it felt so nice hugging her and being close. As for the dumb-seeming but very dangerous swordsman? I guess I need to learn to look a little closer at small details. Thinking back, I should have noted the edge guard on his scabbard. I should have seen how dangerously he carried himself; he moved like Tanaka.”
“That’s true, but I should have helped you spot those little details. I reviewed the footage, and you’re right. When you drew your blade yesterday, he didn’t flinch. He was apologetic, but I don’t believe he was afraid.”
“The scariest thing was how dismissively I was taking the situation. When I handed Barns my coat and got ready for a fight, I was trying to think of ways to take it easy on him, like maybe cutting his blade from a side angle or, if I had to cut him, just going for a limb. That’s the sort of thing that would lose me a fight with Tanaka, and if this guy was that good . . .” She let the thought finish itself—pulling punches with someone at that level was tantamount to suicide.
“A good lesson for us both,” Angel replied. “I, too, was hoping you wouldn’t have to kill a relative stranger, hoping you’d find a way to end the fight without a fatality. Now I see that way of thinking can be dangerous.”
“Well, aren’t we just a couple of softies?” Juliet chuckled, turning over and snuggling her face into the pillow. “Let’s sleep on things, hmm? I bet everything will be clearer in the morning.”
“Good night, Juliet.”
“Night, Angel.” As images of blue eyes drifted through her mind, some icy and cold, others sparkling and bright, and still others that were kind of gray and soft, she fell into a deep, restful sleep. When Angel woke her in the middle of the night, the first confused thought that came to her lips was, “Why are their eyes all blue?”
“Juliet!” Angel hissed, “We’re being jammed!”
Juliet sprang out of bed, snatched her gun belt off the chair near the nightstand, and then the world exploded with brilliant white light. Her ears roared with static, and her hardened optics flashed and flickered with weird artifacts as they struggled to operate under the effects of an apparently massive EMP being deployed. Juliet tried to pull her pistol out of the holster, but her arm felt heavy and sluggish. So, as the world flickered and her ears continued to report nothing but static, she squatted against the wall and tugged the gun out with her left hand.
“J-Juliet,” Angel said, her voice little more than static as another blinding flash lit up her room. The pulse was so bright it bled right through the fabric curtains on her window. More artifacts filled her vision, making it hard to tell what she was looking at, and Juliet scrambled on her hands and knees, trying to get to the door.
“Barns!” she yelled as she felt the doorknob and yanked the door open. Yet another flash erupted in answer to her call, and her optics finally gave up the ghost, her vision tunneling down to a pinpoint of light that faded as the static in her ears cut out, dropping her into a well with no sound and no light. “Barns, Hawkins! Angel!” she cried, and though she felt the words vibrating her vocal cords, she couldn’t hear herself or anyone else.