“What do you mean?” I said, and I know my stoic poker face was failing me. The last thing I wanted was to have some sort of corrupted gear failing me when I needed it the most.

“Like I said, most of the old gear is corrupted now. I’ll let the expert tell you more about when we get there.

“I am just gonna run around unprotected and weaponless?” I raised an inquiring brow. But Rooker just laughed.

“You are wearing the most advanced Oni Combat Frames in the world. You run faster, hit harder, and move like a cobra, or will once you’re synced. Your Yōkai -Tech reactive smart body suit can take a conventional round like body armor, leaving literally no part of your body unprotected. Not even your high school prom date could get in your pants now,” He chuckled.

“If I have to, I’ll find another steal bar and take that with me. I won’t run around in a crease hugging body suit unarmed no matter how defended I am.

“Wouldn’t be the firs time you found a replacement,” Rooker shot me a lude glance, “shaft,” he laughed.

“Oh fuck off! Look at me,” I laughed “If this suit was tan, I’d look like a naked plastic doll wearing support braces and hockey pads. I don’t need any more innuendo from you, I’m going to be your commanding officer,” I chided him, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

It was wrong but I’d missed bantering with the old ass, and he knew it. Maybe it was his way of letting me know everything was okay, or perhaps he was trying to put my nerves at ease. Whatever the intent, it was working.

Rooker grinned. “You look like special needs Barbie, with thick thighs, but we all look like that. Heck, In this outfit I am an anatomically incorrect ken doll. Which is disturbing, but less than seeing everyone’s bulge, or crease.”

“You’re in armor, carrying a weapon, and you’re generally unpleasant. No one is going to mess with you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. I’ll loan you a common weapon when we get to Eunjoo’s place in the civilian sector of the zone. She has my stash of scavenged weapons and gear I didn’t want to turn over to the unit. Nothing special, maybe the N14, not that you need any protection here,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes at the very idea.

“I seem to recall they were the ones shooting missiles at us on the way in,” I glowered.

“Eunjoo sets up in the controlled zone, its technically outside the city. It was set up for hydroponic farmers to produce food for the colony, but you know humans. We love to turn a profit,” He flashed me a grin.

“What? So now it’s a farmers’ market?” I raised a brow at that, and the implications it suggested.

“More like a black market. They trade everything tech, food, booze and entertainment. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised to find weapons and combat frame utilities here either,”

He ignored my astonished glance completely and went on. “Eunjoo’s place is inside the Lotus, a brothel, so don’t be too shocked,”

“Eunjoo, I thought you said her name was Kang?” I asked, then realized it was the same person.

“Kang Eunjoo, but everyone just calls her Eunjoo. That one is something else,” Rooker’s voice had an odd tone when he mentioned her, and Kate wonder if there was something there.

“Is she another one of your, quasi-theistic sisters? Isn’t an Asian brothel a little cliche even for you?” I asked, ribbing him, but he didn’t smile.

“Eunjoo came here as an engineer. I believe she is the only Asian in that brothel, and only her skills as a engineer are for sale,” He said, then added, “There is only so many buildings here, people have to get in where they can. In her case, she got lucky. The people who let her live there do so because she has become kind of an activist, the brothel workers act as a major part of her organization.”

That made me raise a brow. It wasn’t a new concept, really. A lot of spies work out of brothels in throughout time. The girls were powerful sources of intel, but why would the authorities allow it?

Entering the controlled zone, I got the picture. The people milling around didn’t look like Vision Dynamic’s poster-perfect satisfied employees. Their clothing was rugged and industrial looking, nothing new or with any style.

They were also casting furtive glances of what looked like fear or resentment toward us as we passed. Many glanced at Rooker’s sub gun and at me before looking away quickly.

“So, you are taking me to a terrorist’s house?” I said in disbelief.

Rooker barked out a laugh. “No. Bro, you know me better than that. Eunjoo is more like Mother Teresa, if Mother Teresa was hot and slightly dangerous,” He said wistfully.

“There is a lot going on around here, and Eunjoo helps coordinate supplies to help the hungry and desperate.”

I turned to get ahead of him and looked up into his eyes. “Are you telling me we aren’t feeding people?”

“No, like I said, we produce food from the hydroponics and raise rabbits and chickens. The problem is that we have people who have fled our hospitality, and they don’t always have problems stealing food from the more vulnerable,” he gave me a look. “You might have seen the scavenger camps on our way in.”

He stepped past me, and we continued on. “That and we don’t produce any dairy products. We have soy-based cheese and milk, but kids really need the good stuff,” he motioned to a small, ragged bundle sitting near a stall and I realized it was a kid, a little boy.

I realized the whole market was made of shipping containers. Some were single shops, but there were so many variations that it was impressive to see what they’d done. Some were stacked at angles, with cutouts that made for looming balconies, others were in rows, set up like vendors’ shops. Patios made of shipping pallets had been set up, and community gathering areas as well.

“This could be any boardwalk Asian market in the world,” I said in fascination.

The mist was ever present, making the whole market seem like a foggy harbor community. Somewhere nice, like Boston or Astoria, Oregon, but this place didn’t feel nice. It felt like it belonged in a horror novel.

“You’ve got to be hungry.” Rooker said as we passed a stall where meat sizzled on skewers with an assortment of vegetables. Instantly my mouth watered, and my stomach growled in agreement.

Rooker held up two fingers to the stall owner, then looked at me and raised a third. “You want rabbit or chicken?”

“Rabbit is fine. It’s been a while since I had red meat,” I responded with a grin.

A shadow passed nearby, and for an instant I could have sworn I saw a familiar face. Perhaps it was because he was taller by a head than everyone else. But I could have sworn I’d seen the hulking figure of the Mongolian in Xuying, Paul.

The figure cast a glance my way, then, as if disregarding my presence, he vanished into the swirling mists.

[Thermal optics available at 20% power. Do you wish to transition to a thermal overlay? Yes / No]

For once, the system had something useful to offer. Mentally I focused on Yes, and the world lit up around me. The heat was magnified, the filters in the optics adjusted, and they just looked like normal people, even if everything around them still seemed misty.

Paul, however, was nowhere to be seen. “Must have been a trick of the fog.” I decided and realized Rooker was still talking to me and holding out two skewers.

I accepted both and immediately dug into the hot greasy meat like a wolf. It was amazing! Season to perfection with hints of the wood smoke. It was cooked a nice medium rare. The first one was gone in seconds.

“We bought this site from the Chinese. They had an old military base here, but when they discovered the vermilion, they didn’t have a clue what they’d found. I don’t know the details, but somehow Vision Dynamics got the scoop on the stuff and all its practical applications. So, they bought them out cheap, sent the executives home, and hired the established workers, but with their new goals came more work, and they didn’t have enough people.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

When they hired on everyone else here, they had work to do. Most of them were on a contract for things like the hydroponics construction or working on the fog farm assembly. Pretty much whatever was needed for building this place. But, after all the attacks on Vision Dynamics and the shit that went down with the generals at the Pentagon, our transports slowed way down.”

“I don’t see-” I started to say, but Rooker cut me off.

“They can’t leave. At least there’s no one to take them out of here.”

“So what? They are like the Jamaicans in Panama? Hired to do the hard work of building the canal, but once it was completed, they were told to buy their own way home?” I asked dumbfounded, as an older lady with a torn wool blanket passed us.

“Worse, they can’t even buy their way home. Most of these people have millions in the bank back home, but they can’t exactly hire an Uber to come pick them up. This place is still top secret,” He said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice.

“No wonder they’re pissed. But, being forced to scavenge can’t be what has so many of the troops pissed off, even if they are stealing from the dead. We’re soldiers, you never leave a resource behind,” I said firmly

Rooker laughed indignantly. “If only it were that simple. Nope, there are groups, cells if you like, that have actively tried to destroy this place in order to force us to shut down operations. They figured it would force us to go home and maybe make Vision Dynamics sell. Instead, it just made it harder for everyone,” He paused and looked over at me.

“Now, we are stuck here, and our resources are dwindling. Sure, we do okay inside our compound, but that means the public hates us, and we end up with nearly a caste system. The higher end elites, the poor, the mafia and us,” Rooker frowned. “You see shipping containers all around us, but they see broken promises, and shattered dreams.”

“So, what is the deal with that, anyway? I know the corporate types have their administrative people here somewhere, but all I have seen are mercenaries and these poor bastards,” I said an motioned to another group standing by a barrel fire.

Looking uneasy, Rooker scratched his jawline. “Like I said it is kind of a caste system. You have the scavengers, who used to be general laborers, and some still are in small ways. But they are poor based on living conditions. Then you have the miners, they live better to some extent. Their habitations are closer to the mines, but they still come to the city for trade and, recreation.”

“So where does that put the scientists, and executives?” I asked and was surprised when Rooker pointed with his chin as he said. “Inside the mountain.”

“Inside the mountain?” I burst out, “I thought that was just the mine.”

“Not at all. The innovation zone is an experimental habitation developed with a goal of putting a city on the moon, the mine is how they think they will make it happen. Inside the upper levels are your admin and executive functionaries, while the labs are above the mines,” he said.

Stepping ahead of me, he paused and turned with his hands out, indicating the whole place. “We are like the ants on the outside of the hive, almost literally with the structure. With the people in privilege inside, fat, safe and happy, and the people outside, struggling to get by, and the miners and engineers underneath keeping the whole thing working.”

“Sounds like a recipe for trouble to me,” I responded and once more we came to a stop. “Why is the Mafia here?”

Rooker laughed. “The same reason the Mafia is anywhere. Money. You give a man the internet, and he will make it an access point for porn. You give him a drug. He will snort it, shoot it, or smoke it if he thinks he can get a better high. You develop a chemical from an exotic mineral that can help stimulate reflex speed, and neuro processing they turn it into a fun new drug.”

“That can’t be good for their nervous systems,” I observed.” And this is the stuff Babbs is taking?”

Rooker shrugged, then scratched his neck. “Yes, and no. The stuff he is buying is like Champaign to their moonshine. The Yōkai can synthesize it into a higher quality product and use it safely. The Vermillion has many uses, and we are only seeing a side effect. It’s like they buy airplane glue but just to sniff it, not realizing it can build shit, and that it burns like hell.”

“No wonder it’s so valuable,” I said in agreement, but not know what those other uses were was a little confusing.

“That’s why we are here. The Scavengers and general population might have taken their eye off the prize, but we haven’t. Kate, when this is over, when we go home, we are all going to be rich. All of this will end someday, it has too, there is too much money in it to allow it to fail. The only question is, can we hold it together long enough for them to come through?”

A glint was in his eyes, a glint I’d see in a hundred Veterans who’d been injured and were being promised a new treatment, or a new hope. It said that they were staking their everything on something. It was something I’d seen crushed nightly nine times out of hundred.

“Ah, here’s the place.” He motioned to a small beat up looking shipping container, and we slipped inside. And why I found myself surprised is still a mystery. The strip club was illuminated in shades of neon blue and pink, and smelled of booze, sweat, and enough body spray to choke on.

Center stage, a dark-skinned woman enticed the room with a slow exotic dance that followed an electronic Egyptian sounding number that made me think of a long slow kiss on a hot night. She had an hourglass shaped body most women would envy, but the real prize was her full lower lip and soft eyes. Those were the kind of eyes that say good morning as a statement instead of a well wish.

She wasn’t the only women in the room, but a lot of them had their eyes on a fine-featured Asian male, whose long hair flowed over his bare chest, as he moved like a counterpoint to the woman. It was hypnotic, and it took Rooker’s nudge to get move to keep move out of the entry.

Rooker curtly nodded to the pair of oversized bouncers as we worked our way toward the rear. One wore a mirrored visor, which I was certain he was using to scan for weapons. The other, a beefy fellow with short green hair that was shaved on the sides, then flipped over a glowing green eye. Both were guarding a narrow hallway with what looked like small rooms on either side.

“It stinks like bad booze and worse sex in here,” I said loud enough for Rooker to hear.

“Nah, this isn’t your hospital room,” He winked at me and pushed forward.

I looked at the skewer in my hand and wondered if I should try to stuff it into my mouth. It seemed odd to just stand there holding it, but it would seem rude if I met her with my mouth full.

“What are they supposed to do now? Just wait? Why doesn’t the company take them out with the return flights when they ship things in?” I asked, trying to continue the conversation, But Rooker held his finger to his lips as he glanced around the dimly lit parlor area.

“Eunjoo In?” Rooker called and stood on his toes as he tried to look toward the back, past the bouncers. “You aren’t still mad at me, are you? I didn’t know it was habanero flavored jelly. I never even heard of such a thing.”

“Fuck you, Rooker. I didn’t shit right for a week after that,” One of them said I and I realized that the heavily muscled bouncer with green hair was a woman.

I’d known Rooker a long time, and I’d seen him talk a lot of people into doing things that weren’t in their best interest. It normally involved either hot peppers or booze, and in this case I was hoping it wasn’t both. How they were now looking at him in open hostility spoke volumes.

“Are you sure that was the jelly? I mean you were supposed to put it over cream cheese and eat it with crackers, not whatever crazy kink you’re into,” he said teasingly, but the woman wasn’t looking amused.

“Come on, let Eunjoo I’m here and I brought a friend who needs her help to configure her system.”

A shadow moved in the back, and a voice called out, “Bring her back. But you’d better have something for me,” a high pitched voice crooned.

Rooker looked at my rabbit skewer and doubled pumped his eyebrows. “No, that’s mine!” I complained.

“We will have to leave the frames at her the door.” Rooker said casually, and immediately his frame started to whine and click as fastenings came loose.

“Are you sure that a good idea?” I cautioned, but Rooker merely sighed.

“No one can steal them without a crane, and if we want to go inside, we have to follow their traditions,” he said as he slip from his straps.

“I like that idea, I want to see what this thick blond looks like without the Bones.” The green-haired bouncer called as she leered at me, and the visored male leaned forward with blatant curiosity.

“I do like how that skin suit fits her,” he grinned, then raised both eyebrows. “You ever want work, I might have a dancing gig for you, girl. Can you move that thing?” He teased as he pointed what I recognized as a prosthetic enhanced finger at my backside.

In my HUD, the whole arm was suddenly highlighted and identified, and soon after a port at the base of her skull, and another in the crux of her artificial elbow.

[Dash Cyber Systems: Cybernetic Left Arm Enhancement.]

[Gremlin Electronics: Reflex enhancement chip.]

[Vision Dynamics: Sapho Boost Capable]

“She look like an MMA fighter from the 2000s. Pretty enough to bring all the boys to the fight, and the fight to the girls!” Green hair cooed, but I ignored it. It was the kind of things women say that were more to intimidate other women than compliment, and I was a long way from intimidating. But the arm was worth keeping in mind.

“You just want to get in some ground and pound time, Axel. And, I’m not talking about in the ring,” Visor guy laughed, suggestively.

In my HUD, a prompt blinked into existence.

[Do you wish to detach your Oni Combat Frame? Yes/No]

I mentally selected the option for yes, and I admit I jumped a little as the securing fasteners let loose. Once free from the straps, I stepped out of it and placed my encased feet on the smooth floor.

Without a human in them, the frames looked like bizarre skeletons, and a shudder went through my body at the thought of it. Somehow it seemed alien and menacing on its own, like a monster hiding in the shadow of your room.

“You coming?” Rooker asked, and I padded toward him, trying to ignore the feeling that the bouncers were watching me walk away.

We moved back toward her, and the smell of brine and smoke assaulted my senses. I felt like I was in a dockside brothel suddenly. A place where sailors stopped over to spend the sailing pay on cheap booze and expensive company. Odd, considering there wasn’t an ocean anywhere near.

“I’m not so sure all of them want to go back. They seem to like the lack of rules,” I grumbled. “What was up with the street Samurai’s sidekick?”

“Axel and Dell are good enough people, but they are total opposites,” Rooker said as he leaned closer to me. “Axel has enough money into cyber-ware to buy this place. Dell, he’s real old school. No tech, just training and experience.”

I spoke up just a little over the noise of the stinking crowd, “Seems like a waste of money and talent to me.”

“People here do what they have to get by, and I try to help from time to time. But, most people aren’t too happy here.”