The teen took them to a cluster of low apartment buildings crowded tightly near an abandoned factory. The noise must have been awful while it was in operation, especially with the dome to reflect sound back onto the town, but now it was silent.

He brought them into one of the buildings—which was damp and dark inside—and up three sets of stairs until they stood in front of a warped plastic door. The hall was dimly lit with flickering bulbs in the ceiling, and the floor was covered by a dirty synthetic rug.

“This is where she lives,” the teen said, shuffling uncomfortably. “At least she used to. If she’s not here I have no idea where she’d be. So I guess I can get out of here now, or…?”

Jacob nodded in assent. He offered the teen money, but he insisted he didn’t need any. Jacob’s previous stunt still had him scared. He paid him 50 flora anyway before he left.

There was no response when he rang the doorbell. He tried it again. Nothing. He pushed the button repeatedly in rapid succession. Still nothing.

“Maybe she’s not here,” Jacob muttered.

“I can hear music, though,” Tarim argued.

Jacob put his ear to the door. There was some kind of bassy dance music coming from inside. At least the kid had better hearing than him.

He held down the doorbell button for a solid ten seconds with a drawn-out beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Finally the door came open a hand’s breadth, and a sweaty face peered out at them through the crack. Even in the poor lighting, he could tell that she was unnaturally pale, her gaze unfocused.

“Clara Friedman?” Jacob asked.

“Yeah…?” the girl answered, confused.

“We’re friends of your dad’s. Can we come in?”

Her gaze flicked between the two of them. Back and forth, back and forth. “Man… What the fuck am I seeing…?” She shut the door.

Jacob kept ringing the doorbell. A neighbor poked out of a nearby door to yell at them for the racket, but quickly retreated back inside when he saw the two creatures standing in the hall.

Eventually, Clara opened the door again. “Are you people… real or something?”

“I’d like to think so,” Jacob said, clearing his throat. “Can we come in?”

“I guess? I don’t really have enough to share, though, so…”

“Great!” Jacob put a palm on the door and forced it open. The girl staggered inside, nearly fell. He caught her by the arm and guided her to a nearby couch, letting her drop into it. Her head lolled against the armrest, and she stared up into the ceiling, having seemingly already forgotten they were there.

The place was a mess. The curtains were drawn, and it was completely dark except for a TV at one end of the studio apartment that cast a ghostly pale light over everything and sent long, grasping shadows jittering. There was all manner of drug paraphernalia on the coffee table next to the couch, but Jacob wasn’t familiar enough with the harder stuff to know what she’d been using. The grating music was coming from a sound speaker beneath the TV, so he put it on mute using his System interface.

It smelled, too, like sour sweat and burnt hair and a distinct sickly sweet smell of mold.

“Fuck me,” Jacob muttered. “Kid, you can go outside for this if you want.”

“It’s okay,” Tarim said. “She needs our help, right?”

Jacob glanced over at him. He didn’t want to say that there probably wasn’t much he could do to rectify a situation like this.

I’ve got to try, I guess. I’m here now.

Man, I really wasn’t good enough friends with Magpie for this…

Jacob found a chair and brushed a pile of clothes off of it with his foot. He lifted it over by the head of the couch and sat down. In as kindly a voice as he could manage, he said: “Clara, I need to talk to you. Like I said, we’re here on behalf of your dad.”

She rolled over on her side, half-facing him, one arm hanging over the side of the couch. Strands of her dark hair were stuck with sweat to her face and neck. Steel piercings glittered in her eyebrow, nose, and cheeks. “What’s my dad… want with me? Never cared before.”

“He wanted to make amends, I guess. I don’t know all the details, just that he was desperate to find you.” Jacob figured having this conversation while she was high off her mind probably wasn’t the best thing, but he certainly wasn’t planning on coming back here later. “Look, I don’t know how much you’ve heard, or what you know, but your dad was a low-level villain. Despite that, he fought for humanity on Earth and died. That’s the long and short of it.”

“He’s dead?”

“Yeah. Sorry for your loss.”

She blinked slowly, like it took great effort. “Don’t be. He…” She trailed off and didn’t finish the rest of her sentence, looking like she was about to nod off.

Jacob shook her shoulder and her eyes came back open, focusing on him for just a moment before trailing off again.

His plan had been to pay her off with a few thousand flora and put the whole thing down as his Good Deed of the year, but she would no-doubt spend it all on drugs, and he didn’t want some 17-year-old’s OD on his conscience.

“You grew up on Aribel, is that right?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Got family there?”

“My mom. But I ran away. Was gonna see my dad, but then… heard he was in jail. So that kind of fucked things. And now I’m here.”

“I’ve got a ship. I could take you as far as Mars if you want. I’m sure you could find some way to get to Aribel from there, go see your mom.”

“Nah… No thanks. I’m good here.”

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“You know, far be it from me to judge, but have you considered that this might not be the healthiest lifestyle for a young woman to be leading?”

“Man, fuck off. You’re… ruining my…” She trailed off again, and her cheek smushed against the cracked faux-leather as her eyes flickered shut.

Jacob stood with a sigh. “All right, we’re done here.”

“Really?” Tarim asked. “We’re not gonna help her?”

“What do you want me to do, kid? It’s not like we can drag her out of here kicking and screaming, and if she doesn’t want to quit this stuff it’s not like we can force her. If we throw all the drugs away she’ll just find a way to get more. Nothing we can do.”

“All right, but…” Tarim struggled for some solution, but fell silent when he couldn’t think of one. “I still think we should help her.”

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“If you think of some genius idea, by all means, let me know. Until then, we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

Tarim accepted that. Jacob considered looking for some decent foodstuffs in town, but they had only just left the apartment complex when Thatch called him.

“What’s up?” Jacob asked.

“Well, I’ve spoken to the governor,” Thatch replied. “Or at least the man calling himself the governor. He’s just some petty warlord who killed the actual governor and appointed himself the ruler of this place.”

“Right. But he’s not planning on fucking with us, is he?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. So it’s not a problem then.”

“I guess not.”

“What about a mystic? Got any leads?”

“That’s where the big problem is. The governor tracked down a guy for me, supposedly tells fortunes and the like, but he’s legit. A proper licensed arcanist and everything.”

“Well, that’s great. What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that he’s about as washed up as you can get. And he says he’ll only do the ritual if we get him Rainbow for it. Says it’s part of his ‘process’ or whatever.”

“Is that even a thing?”

“Some mystics use substances to enhance their magical abilities, get in the zone, but I’ve never heard of one using Rainbow for it.”

“And there’s no one else?”

“There’s his twelve-year-old apprentice, but you might understand why that’s not a great option.”

“Right. I guess we’re getting this guy some Rainbow then, or?”

“Doesn’t seem like we have a choice. But apparently all the drugs in the colony are pretty tightly controlled by this criminal gang, the Lich Kids. They’re not selling right now, or so the governor says. I guess with supply being low, they prioritize satisfying their own appetites.”

Jacob looked up towards the apartment building they’d just left. “That’s funny, because I just left Clara Friedman’s place, and she had a bunch of stuff lying around.”

“Really? That’s great. See if she has any Rainbow and get her to part with some. I’ll have everything else set up for when you get here.”

“Will do.”

He hung up, and found Tarim standing with his hands on his hips, an unabashedly judgmental look on his face. “We’re not going to steal from her, are we?”

“Of course not. As long as she gives us what we need.”

Back up they went. After holding down the doorbell, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, Clara opened the door again. She had a trail of chunky vomit down her t-shirt now.

“I see you’re doing well,” Jacob said with a smile. “Sorry for the intrusion, but we’ll need to come in again.”

“Why?” she asked, frowning deeply. “Weren’t you… just here? Wait, who are you?”

“Friends of your dad’s. I’m Jacob, this is Tarim. Will you please sell us some drugs?”

She scoffed at that. “Haven’t got enough to share, man. Fuck off.”

Jacob forced the door open and repeated the same procedure as last time, steering the junkie teenager over to the couch and letting her fall onto it like a falling log. He took care not to step in the charming puddle of vomit next to it.

“Man, what the fuck?” Clara whined. “What are you guys… trying to do?”

“All we need is some Rainbow, then we’ll be on our way. Promise. We’ll pay you more than a fair price.”

“Whatever, I don’t… I used that shit up days ago, man. I’ve only got Xenodust. Just… leave me alone. Please.”

“Where did you get this stuff from, anyway? I heard there’s not really any way to get your hands on it.”

“I just find shit, all right?” A bit of pukey drool trailed from her mouth and collected on the couch armrest.

She just finds things. I see.

Like father, like daughter, I guess.

“You stole it,” Jacob said. “From the Lich Kids, I assume?”

“Whatever.”

“That sounds like an awfully quick way to get yourself killed.”

She didn’t answer.

“Will the Lich Kids have more Rainbow where they are?”

Still no answer.

Jacob clapped her cheek until she perked up. “Hmm?”

“Do the Lich Kids have more Rainbow?”

“Uh, sure. I guess…”

“Great. Thanks for being of service.”

From there, Jacob brought Tarim back to the Quickdraw. He protested, of course, but Jacob wasn’t having it. It would likely get dangerous from now on, and the last thing he needed was some kid running around, getting in the way of a bullet.

Next, he headed to the governor’s tower at the center of the settlement. It was a tall, angular building, maybe ten stories, with rows of windows that glittered in the sparse sunlight breaking through the dome’s dust cover.

There were guards at the doors, but they must have been told to expect someone matching his description, because they stood aside and ushered him in.

Thatch met him in the lobby.

“So?” he asked.

Jacob shook his head. “No luck. We’re gonna need to get a little bit nasty with this.”

“You mean…”

“Murder, Thatch. A lot of murder.”

“Jacob…”

“Don’t worry, boss. They’re bad guys, no one’ll mind. I just want to make sure I’m getting paid for it first.”

They rode an elevator to the top floor of the tower. Once there, they were admitted into a spacious penthouse with huge windows dominating almost every wall. The floor was made of marble and the ceiling was wrought with intricate gold patterns. Despite the lavishness of the actual apartment, the furnishings themselves were spartan and barebones. Plain plastic and metal furniture, no decorations to speak of. A middle-aged man stood up from behind a simple desk and came over to shake Jacob’s hand.

“Ooh, cold,” he said. “You’re the famous Hanged Man, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you. I’m Weiss, the governor here. When Director Thatch told me you were here with him, I was hoping I might get to see you. Won’t you consider staying for a few days to rest and stock up before you undertake the journey to Mars?”

The governor was a short, broad-shouldered, bullish fellow with scars across his hands, arms, and face. He wore the same black uniform as the rest of his people, sleeves rolled up, and he wore his gray hair cropped short and neat. He had the proud, straight-backed posture of a soldier.

“I’ll consider it,” Jacob said, deciding it was best to keep his answer vague to avoid upsetting his host. “I’m sure Thatch has told you why we’re here.”

“The gist of it, yes. Something about needing a mystic for calibrating a magic item. It’s a little out of my purview, but I pointed him to Guppy. He’s hung most of that magic stuff up years ago, but I’m sure he’ll get it done.” Hands behind his back, Weiss wandered over to one of the big windows and looked down over the colony. “Did you know I used to be a hero?”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. A-Rank. They called me Firepower. I’m sure you haven’t heard of me.”

Jacob joined the governor by the window. “I haven’t,” he admitted.

Weiss chuckled. “Good man. Honest. I was angry when I first got stationed here. I wanted to be where the action was, not this provincial afterthought. But the more time I spent here, the more it grew on me. Now I couldn’t imagine myself leaving.”

“I hear you killed the last governor. That true?”

Weiss nodded gravely. “I did. He was soft and afraid, and when the demons came we couldn’t afford either. He was unreceptive when I made the offer to replace him, so I didn’t make it an option. He resisted, and…” He shrugged. “I did it to keep this place together. And I did keep it together. But the blood is on my hands, and I accept that.”

Assuming he was telling the truth, Jacob couldn’t find much fault in that. “You’ve got a criminal element in Port Longing. The Lich Kids, yeah?”

“Yes. Silly name, but their influence is all-too-real. It doesn’t help that I was forced to work with them when the enemy came our way. It gave them legitimacy, and I was forced to make concessions to appease them.”

“Would you like to be rid of them?”

Weiss glanced his way, then looked back through the window. “Very much. Are you offering?”

“I am.”

“They have two Users.”

“High level?”

“Three to five, I’d say. One of them is a villain named Ironfoot. Physical-boosting Symbiosis. The other one used to be a hero. A former colleague, you could say. B-Rank, Sparkle. Long-range Familiar.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’ll be a problem.”

“You expecting backup on this? I’ve got people, but I can’t spare any casualties right now. It’s one of the reasons why I haven’t moved on them already.”

“It’ll be better if I’m on my own.”

Weiss turned his whole head towards him now. “And you’re confident about this?”

Jacob nodded. “I am. If you pay me.”

The governor laughed. “The Guild pay as bad as it used to?”

“More or less,” Jacob said with a look back at Thatch, who was shaking his head, arms crossed.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind parting with some flora. Not much to use for it these days until trade gets restored. How much do you want?”

“Fifty thousand.”

Weiss nodded. “Done. When will you do it?”

Wow, no haggling. All right.

“Tonight,” Jacob said. “You don’t mind if I kill them, do you?”

“I would prefer it if you left no one alive.”

“Good. Come morning, you’ll have one less thing to worry about.”