Remy already owned three of the Vascs Frank’s plan called for. Those were common enough that most folks who bother wearing a Vasculator could be expected to own a copy or two though their use was strictly monitored. Pheromone Vascs in particular could cause a lot of trouble. While not technically illegal, an enterprising Redcap could find a good reason to toss you in the slammer for having one and a dim Redcap would just club you and take it.
A Force was no big deal. The simple card could simply create a gust of air pushing away from the user. Nothing too strong but useful as an everyday Vasc and probably Vascorp’s best seller. Volts were popular among Redcaps and private security forces for their similarities to “TASERS” used by their pre-war predecessors. Remy’s heart always skipped a beat when he uploaded his own Volt cards into his Vasculator. He’d been especially trying to avoid them after his most recent encounter with Happy Jack. Frank assured him the programming itself wasn’t causing any heart palpitations but they happened to Remy all the same.
He’d have to dig a little deeper to find the illegal cards on the list: Reverb and Shusher. Frank was a pragmatist. He just built the cards, and recommended their use. What the Federation said about their use wasn’t really his concern.
Josephine O’Malley was the woman to talk to about illegal Vascs. She owned a pawn shop out on the east side, where the grav shuttles to the other Federation cities came in. Remy liked the east side. It had that right blend of topsider superiority complex with enough grit and grime to feel at home. It was like a slice of the undercity shining through and polished up real nice.
Her shop was part garage, part storefront, tucked into the first floor of an apartment complex needing a new coat of paint. Outside a rat gnawed on something in the gutter paying no attention to the traffic moving by. A neon sign told him Josie’s Pawn was open, and a second sign told him that she only accepted cash. No bank transfers, no tracing.
Remy heard Josephine before he could see her.
“Don’t you try it, you’d be dead before you hit the ground. I gave you thirty days to bring me my money and you’d get it back. It’s been thirty five days, Ben. Is that more than thirty? Yeah. It’s more than thirty, isn’t it. So, that makes it my bike now and unless you’re willing to buy it for my new retail price, you can get off my property.”
A man shuffled out the front doors, wild eyed, looking to spit fire and wanting to fight with the first man he came across. He was overweight, but the type that promised muscle underneath, and tattoos ringed the shaven left half of his head. Remy ducked into an alley and let him pass. Let someone else deal with that. With luck, he’d find someone Remy owed money to. He slipped in behind Ben and entered the pawnshop. A bell above the door rang softly.
“Ben, I swear, you don’t want me calling the Redcaps. They know how you beat them boys of yours. I swear, just give me an excuse.”
“I didn’t do nothing to no boys, Josie.”
He took his hat off and placed it on the plasti-glass case near the register. She still used an old fashioned mechanical register.
“Can’t hack when there’s nothing to hack.” She’d told him once. Nothing to argue about there.
She stepped out from the backroom in stained overalls over a once-white shirt.
“Remy St. Claire,” she said with a tsk. Short black hair bobbed nearly to her shoulders, held back by a red band. She smacked gum, cherry flavored he knew, in between painted lips that matched. Splotches of grease and a Vasculator covered her arms and she wiped her hands on a dirty rag. Just as he remembered her.
“Hey,” he smiled.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again after what you said. Think you can handle talking to a ‘harpy’ again?” She cocked her hip to the side, half smile cracking her lips. In a way, Remy was glad to see she hadn’t changed at all. In another way, it terrified him.
He’d dated Josie for six months a few years back after they did a job together in the wasteland on the east coast. That had been the crew, he thought. Coworkers make for strange relationships, and he’d fallen hard for the girl with an infectious smile, cherry gum, and the best driving skills he’d ever seen. They’d spent three days locked in a shipping container after that job had gone tits up. While that was a great excuse for releasing pent-up sexual energy built up between coworkers but didn’t do much else for whatever their relationship had been. He usually had told people they’d just met at the farmer’s market.
Remy scratched the back of his neck and winced. “I said some things I didn’t really mean. I’m sorry, Josie. Honest-to-God, I am.”
“Mmmm, you swear, huh?”
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“Yeah, Josie. Maybe we just ain’t right for each other, but that’s no cause for me to be a jerk. Your shop looks to be doing well. It’s obvious you’ve been working hard.” Flattery helped. Josie loved flattery. Remy remembered that above all her other quirks. She tossed the dirty rag on the counter and sat on her stool.
“I don’t really care what you think, Rem. Ex-boyfriends typically have shit for opinions anyway. What do you need? We’ve lived in the same city for years without bumping into each other so I don’t think you’re coming out here just to apologize, huh?” Well, Josie always had been the more professional one. Straight to the point. He clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from fidgeting.
“I need some Vascs. You still in that business?” It was rhetorical, of course. Everyone knew Josie was the woman to see for Vascs. He supposed he had been lucky that he hadn’t needed her for something like this sooner. The shipping container job outside old Boston had been the largest heist of unregistered Vascs the Federation had seen up to that point. He hadn’t taken a job in almost two years after, just living off his cut. She’d taken hers and reinvested, buying loyalties and building networks. Remy always figured her the smart one between them.
“For what? You have a buyer?” Her eyes narrowed. She smelled herself getting cut out of a deal.
“No, no, nothing like that. I need them for a case.”
She laughed. It was a pretty laugh, and her teeth flashed bright. I know that laugh, he thought with a smile. Remy remembered why he’d fallen for the new driver in the first place.
“So you’re still trying to make that detective business work? That’s the best joke I’ve heard all week. Discover some work ethic downtown?” His own smile faded and he gripped his hands tighter behind his back. And that was a reason he’d fallen away.
“Business is fine, thanks. Look, I just need two Vascs: a Reverb and a Shusher. Do you have them?” She wouldn’t go to the Redcaps to snitch on him just for that. He knew where too many bodies of Josie’s were buried, sometimes literally, for her to talk. Or, at least, he once knew.
“Breaking into a bank? Getting back into the heist game?” Josie raised her eyebrows and Remy shrugged. Reverbs and Shushers didn’t have many legitimate uses.
“A club, actually. Think there’s a clue in their vault and need them just in case. No heist.” No sense lying to the girl, she had always seemed to know when he did that.
Josie frowned and rose to her feet with a stretch. “Well, yeah, I got them. Need a cover-up module too, right?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Do you have them here? I can pay in cash, of course.”
Josie nodded and motioned for him to follow her to the back. She clicked a button near the register and bars slammed shut over the front door and the windows. He grabbed his hat and followed her. They stepped through a beaded curtain and through a garage. Two hover-skiffs sat in states of disrepair and a jetbike painted in purple and green flames with some tribal markings around the fenders - Ben’s undoubtedly - hung from heavy chains. They took a door at the far end and descended to a lab beneath the garage. Workbenches were covered in electronic panels and Vasc cards. Along one wall, drawers were labeled with parts or card names.
Josie moved to the wall and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a card and then another soon after. She tossed him the first and he held it up to the light to read the label.
“Reverberation Module V2, Vascorp ID…” the serial number was scratched out. A Class One Felony with an X-Rated Vasc. Even a properly serialized one required background checks, several interviews, and substantial bribes to the right officials. No one in Remy’s line of work could be bothered with something like that. It was expensive enough to be an honest crook without paying off the official crooks.
She looked at the second one carefully and replaced it. “Reverb One, Force, Force, Oh, a Volt Three…” Josie slammed the drawer shut, opened another and flicked through its contents.
“Out of stock?” Remy poked through the scrap on the surface of the nearest workbench. A soldering iron, motherboards to home units, the speech modulator for a serving bot, no Vascs. Josie continued to rummage.
“I think sold my last one a few days ago.”
Remy gritted his teeth. If Josie didn’t have a Shusher, there wasn’t one for sale in New Madison. The Keymaker’s plans were always perfect but rarely cheap.
“Got any others coming in? I can wait for a few days, I suppose.”
She shook her head and folded her arms over her chest.
“Anything’s possible, I suppose. Nothing scheduled, though.”
“Any chance you can you get it back from the guy you sold to? I’ll pay double.” A Shusher would make everything so much easier. Stefanie’s payment was substantial but paying double on a Shusher would eat a good chunk of his profits. He tried to think of it like an investment.
Josie thought about that a moment, and glanced away from him to the door.
“Well, actually, my client hasn’t paid yet. We could pay him a visit and pick it back up?”
Remy didn’t like the sound of that “we.” Since their crew had split, he worked alone. That way, if things broke bad, he could only blame himself. Blaming others was much easier than taking responsibility so it was best to just keep others out if he wanted to get anything done.
“I don’t know, Jose. Maybe it’s best if I just pay for this one and be on my way.” He shook the Reverb in front of him and fished for a credit chip with his other. She’d probably fleece him for this one as it is. Paying double for the Shusher? Are you drunk?
“Come on, Rem, I could use some muscle on this one.” Josie slouched against the workbench and looked back at him with sad eyes.
“Are you trying to pout?” Remy laughed. Josie had always been far more likely to give him a fat lip and ask him to reconsider than bat those lashes over her big blue eyes. On cue, she stepped toward him and her sad eyes hardened.
“Look, I’m asking nice-like, now, and giving you a chance to get a good deal on some expensive merchandise. Don’t be an ass and we can both make a profit here.”
There’s the Josie he remembered. His stomach fluttered. He shrugged again.
“Doesn’t seem like I can argue that. Let’s go see your friend.”
Her smile flashed back in an instant, popping dimples the size of buttons in her cheeks.
“I knew you couldn’t resist.”
It was going to be a long day.