I got back to my neighborhood without getting into another brawl or nearly dying, it was almost disappointing. Maybe I should pick up a motorcycle so I could get into a high speed chase at least, maybe a jetchopper and go racing through the skylanes while firing my smg at the hostiles behind me. I’d need cash for that.

Unfortunately the tension in the streets hadn’t magically fixed itself while I was across the city. Even the subway security checkpoint was active with a bunch of bored looking but heavily armed cops.

Passing through carrying two guns got me a look from the female cop at the scanner booth but I just gave her a shrug. It felt like the right response to her look. She just waved me through.

Getting down the stairs was a bit slow because there was a crowd of gangers wearing blue colors crying over one of their chooms who’d bled out on the stairs. Most of them were just angry but two of them were probably relatives because they were loudly crying over him.

Sad. Not uncommon though, I didn’t recognize the gang colors and nearly asked one of the ones smoking further down the stairs but decided to just leave. Talking to them when they’re likely all riled up could lead to problems.

When I got to the actual street the elevator opened up and a crowd bustled out with a drunk guy wandering out after them as people pushed past him to get into the elevator. He got jostled a bit and proceeded to stumble to the floor and vomit all over the floor there. I quickly put a bit of distance between me and the puddle as it developed. I’d hoped to escape the smell with my quick movement but it caught me as I slowed down a little way away as the drunk guy heaved up another serving. Damn it.

I took a detour directly into the nearby Scarlet Stockings club to replace my current surroundings of vomit smell with the much preferable smell of perfume and cartridge smoke. The girl at the front desk gave me a raised eyebrow but I waved her off and just stood by the side of the door. She persisted though after a moment.

“Your a bit small kid but I’m sure I can find you a girl if you’re looking.” She said smiling. She was obviously finding it funny.

“Nah. I’m good. Just getting through here. You mind me heading out the back?” I asked.

“Fine kid. But if you go starting anything the girls will put you down, or worse they’ll start charging you.” She said and pressed a button on the desk which released the staff door nearby.

I walked over to it and opened it to find a woman throwing up into a waste bit in the corridor. I moved past her as she stood back up and tried to fix her hair and moved through into a huge dressing room with a wall of mirrors, desks and chairs with lots makeup all over and little lock boxes. There were a couple of woman sitting on the chairs doing their make up which was weird to see, mom didn’t really wear makeup so I hadn’t seen it being applied often.

One of the woman noticed me and gave me a little wave and smile as I moved through quickly while trying not to draw attention. I raised a finger to my lips and she laughed which drew the attention of the girl next to her. I left the room before she could turn around.

Next room was a long lounge and bar, with the bar closed at the moment and the only people sitting in there were hooked up to incarnations in lounge chairs. I moved through without issue and found the exit sign leading to a longer corridor with lots of what I presumed to be private rooms with numbers with the corridor ending with a secure street exit.

I headed towards that exit but had to endure the sounds of a few people going at it in the rooms next door, which was gross, but I was out into a back alley pretty quickly.

After that diversion my nostrils were clear of vomit smell and replaced with flowers and hairspray, all it cost me was a few seconds of gross noises. A good trade.

It wasn’t long before I was back at the mouth of Marchand’s street and I saw Noe smoking outside her apartment before she saw me. I quickly moved close to her balcony to avoid her line of sight and moved along to reach the lifting platform and rode it up to her level.

As I got off she was turned out into the street and leaning over the railing so I kept to the wall and snuck up on her. Then when I got close enough I quick stepped forwards and tapped her head.

“Hey Noe, I’m back.” I said as I stepped back from her surprised defensive swing as she attacked behind herself blindly. Time actually slowed as AAB kicked in and everything.

“Mal! You evil gonk! You scared me and made me drop my cig over the side.” She said as she settled herself and then looked over the side of the railing sadly.

“You should quit those, it’s just a waste of money and you’ll need a new throat and lungs eventually. Those aren’t cheap.” I said.

“I don’t smoke that much, I just like the flavors and the ritual of it. It’s nice coming out here to think and try a new cartridge. Or it was. You owe me a new cig and you won’t be getting any gun work done from me until I see a new one from you. Also why do you smell like a boudoir?” Noe said as she got closer to raise her finger in my face, then sniffing me when she was close.

“Because I walked through a boudoir. Took a shortcut away from a bad smell and it was through a cat house.” I said with a shrug.

“How’s the ganger situation out there? The grid is filled with news of little scuffles and worried people.” She said, crossing her arms and leaning against the railing.

I sat on the ventilation unit built into the wall nearby.

“It’s fragile out there, definitely something going on under the surface for so many different gangs to be riled up at once and even a fight among the bigger factions wouldn’t have the entire neighborhood like this for more than a few hours. Maybe I’ll ask Marchand.” I said, rubbing my chin in thought.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Your face looks rough Mal, have you booked in for some synthskin?” She asked wincing at me a little.

“I’ve booked in a faceplate on the one side and a new audio setup with a sensory suite. It’s costing me most of what I’ve got and that’s with Marchand covering the installation and medical fees for now. But it’ll line me up for better in the future.”

“A full on faceplate at our age is dumb Mal, your face will change quickly in a few years. How many surgeries are you planning on sitting through to keep up with that? Never mind the other chrome you’ve already got. You’re setting yourself up for a lot of issues and cost going forward.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll have stuff adjusted as I get more installed as I get more jobs finished, before long I’ll be way more combat effective. Combined with normal growth and height and so on and I’ll be able to pull back on chrome by the time I hit eighteen.”

“I like that you have a plan. The problem is that you made that plan and you’re a gonk. Talk to a proper doctor about this plan of yours and maybe work out a financial plan going forwards. That way you won’t be left in the lurch if you fail a mission at the wrong time.”

“I don’t fail jobs, I’ve got a perfect track record and I don’t plan on ruining it. Even if I do mess up something I’ll fix it before I come home to get paid.”

“Gonk. Go buy me a cig, I’m going to go work on my new project.”

“Another new project? Every time I come here you’re working on something new. Do you ever finish anything?”

“Sometimes. Not every project is fit for completion, sometimes the thing will just require stuff I can’t get or make. Sometimes the thing is just a bundle of problems that I only discover as it comes together, usually heat problems or power problems. Creation is an art as much as it is a science.” She said, raising her hand dramatically.

“Well. I’ll leave you to your creation, goddess of steel.” I said with acting flair as I bowed and backed away.

“Gonk!” She shouted at my retreating form and I felt a cig cartridge bounce off my back and I laughed as I stepped onto the lifting platform going down.

I crossed the street and was going to let myself into my apartment when I got a message on my interface. A message for Marchand.

[I’m free to talk now, if you’d like.]

Not even a signature, didn’t even know that was possible. I checked the metadata using my debugging tools but the entire metadata listing was blank, even the sending address. Another thing that I didn’t think was possible.

Instead of pulling of my key shard for my apartment I turned around and headed down the corridor to Marchand’s apartment and found the door unlocked. Walking in I saw the place was as usual very clean. I briefly wondered how many staff Marchand even had but let the thought go as I arrived at her parlor door. I knocked as I hardened my resolve to face Marchand as a disgruntled employee.

“Come on in Mal.” She said from within.

I opened the door and walked in, the room exactly as it almost always was. Something about Marchand really was timeless. Not like a beautiful timeless but a literally untouched by time sort of feel. Like time didn’t really mean much to her and it left her alone, including her surroundings.

Sitting in the visitor chair I looked at her to see her eyes were brown and looking right at me. That put me off and completely ruined the angry energy I was trying to build up to yell at Marchand about that message she had sent me. Why were her eyes brown instead of the normal rheumy look?

“Why did you want to see me so soon Mal? I don’t have a new job for you just yet if that’s what you’re here for. I heard you just did a job for that woman from your tail. Do you know she came to see me to ask about you? She actually came into my home because of you the other day. Refused to leave for hours as she wanted to hear about our disagreement, then more details about you. I didn’t share anything of your friend but she found the stories very… entertaining. Do not cause her to visit again.” Marchand said with pursed lips.

“Woah, hey. She was my neighbor and I wanted some advice on some chrome. The fact she visited you is only to do with your own history together. Nothing of my involvement in that.” I said defensively.

“She’s just as stubborn and annoying even years later. I almost stabbed her when she brought up… Well, anyway. Why are you here Mal?”

“Mostly to be grumpy. Why are your eyes brown today?” I said, crossing my arms.

“Grumpy? Have I invited your anger upon me? Oh no, how will I survive the wrath of Malcolm Beckett. Legendary super operator and master hacker.” She said, pulling her cig from it’s holder on the desk in front of her with a smile.

“I just didn’t appreciate your comment about the mugging, I came out of it alright. A bit of minor cosmetic damage is a small price to pay to handle an unexpected violent encounter. I just think you’re expecting Sam to allow me to solve any issue in front of me. It’s not that sort of arrangement.”

“It wasn’t the handling of the incident Mal, it was that it happened at all. You shouldn’t have been ambushed. You should have been able to see it coming and you should have at least been able to get away without them identifying you.” She said with a sniff.

I settled back into the chair a little as I thought about it.

“You’re wrong. I might have taken a risk choosing that side street during a dangerous gang situation but the ambush was clearly planned and set up well. As for getting away, no. I don’t have the tools to do that currently even with Sam helping. You have your parameters wrong here, your calculations are off. I’ll even wager if I asked Sam he’d back me up.” I said confidently, it wasn’t like I was borged out and could take to the balconies at a moments notice.

“Go ahead and ask then. His calculation far outstrip both of ours even if he’s half as complex as I suspect.”

“Fine.”

What do you think Sanctum? Could I have dealt with the ambush better? I’m in the right here, right?

[User is incorrect. There were indications of ambush before the incident. There were several points of escape leading up to the confrontation. Escape from the street was viable through several routes and identification would be difficult even after direct dialog had been exchanged.]

Sanctum, you’re meant to be on my side.

“Well? What did Sam say?” Marchand asked, leaning forward with her cig.

“He said that I’m right.” I said boldly.

“Liar.” Marchand said with a large smile I hadn’t seen before.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll be more careful and pull out of bad situations better. I admit defeat here. You didn’t answer my question about your eyes.” I said with a huff.

She sat back and puffed out a stream of blue smoke into the surroundings.

“I keep up the old lady act for most people to prevent bad habits cropping up when I need to keep the mask on. But I can hardly keep it up among people who know me well enough. Despite your youth, we’ve spilled each other’s blood and fought to the death which tragically and humiliatingly you won. Much to the woman’s glee. It would just be silly to keep the mask on around you, especially when you’re still the front runner for my right hand.” She said with a scoff.

“I still haven’t made my choice you know.” I said defensive.

“I’m sure in your mind there’s some way to secure all the benefits of what I offer without paying it’s demands. Continue to try to imagine a scenario where all my riches and wealth fall into your lap without you having to commit to anything as much as you like. I’ll wait for you to come to your senses and realize the world doesn’t quite work like that. I’ll still be here when you’re a grizzled and burnt out mercenary alone in the world in your mid fifties trying to earn enough cash to buy a third liver while avoiding corpo bounty hunters. The only thing that will have changed here will likely be my preferred brand of cig cartridge and my willingness to take you on as my hand.” She said, then taking a deep pull from the pipe on her cig.