13 – Migas
When Tony got back to the shop, Bert was just waking up, turning on the lights and brewing some coffee. Tony had that familiar limpness in his arms that came from a good workout, and he was feeling far better than he had since waking up in the Blast, thanks to the long, hot shower he’d taken in the locker room. Bert greeted him cheerily and, as Tony deposited his sack of dirty clothes in the storeroom, called out, “How was Golden’s?”
“Honestly? I like it a hell of a lot more than the gym I was going to in ’Hattan.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. People are serious about their gym time down here. At least the folks I saw this morning.”
“What about Lion? Did you meet him?”
“Golden?” Tony connected the dots—Golden’s first name was Lionel. “Yeah, he talked me into signing up for his fights tonight.”
“Seriously? You figure you’re up for that?” Bert gave him a sidelong glance, and Tony knew what he was thinking: hadn’t he seen Beef and his boys slapping Tony around just a couple of days ago?
“I’ve taken a beating before.” Tony grinned and gestured to his eye, freshly bandaged thanks to Golden’s generosity. “This thing’s almost healed up thanks to my…” He glanced around the store to ensure they were alone. “Nanites. If I get punched in it, I don’t think any new harm will come of it.”
“You looked into a replacement at all?”
“I talked to Doc Peters about it, and I’m kinda in a tough spot. The asshole who cut out my eye didn’t do me any favors. Peters said it looked like he scooped it out with a plasma scalpel and wasn’t delicate—severed some of the muscles and even shaved off some of the orbital bone. So, before I can even think about getting a replacement, I’m gonna need some reconstruction. They’ll have to rebuild the musculature and probably graft in some new bone to support the implant.”
“So not cheap.”
“Right. Well, depending—there’s a big difference between vanity tech and functional tech. I might go with something a little more utilitarian until I start earning again, you know?”
“Like that arm, eh?” Bert chuckled, and Tony grinned, lifting the black titanium and plasteel arm, flexing his biceps.
“This thing’s starting to grow on me. I was doing some good work on the heavy bag today.”
Bert chuckled. “It’s a solid piece, I suppose, but not exactly sophisticated.”
“Well, yeah.” Tony resumed his typical pose, tucking his mechanical hand into his jeans pocket. “It’s good for punching and blocking, but don’t ask me to rewire any electronics.”
“Coffee?” Bert held up the pot of brown liquid, then poured himself a cup.
“Absolutely.” Tony walked over to the counter and watched as Bert filled his cup and then pushed it over the counter toward him. Bert already knew not to offer him any sugar packs.
“So—” Bert sipped his coffee and swallowed with a satisfied sigh. “—fighting tonight, huh? During the Boxer Day fair?”
“Yeah, guess so. People really come out to celebrate a corp around here, huh?” Tony sipped his coffee, enjoying the ritual, if not the rather acidic nature of Bert’s brew.
“I wouldn’t say they’re celebrating Boxer Corp. It’s more they’re desperate for a little extra time off and some free food and booze.” He waved his hand. “Then you got the businesses around here pitching in—like the fights!” He thumped Tony’s shoulder and added, “I usually close up early and head over, but the businesses on Boxer Boulevard are open with sidewalk displays—sales, giveaways, raffles, stuff like that.”
Tony hadn’t paid much attention to the street signs, too accustomed to having a sharp PAI that would do that for him, but he was pretty sure Golden’s gym was on Boxer Boulevard. “Anyway, what can I do for you today, Bert? You want me to watch the store or clean anything? You need me to stock the shelves or—”
“Just relax, champ. It’s still early morning! I know you’ve been up and at ’em for a while, but we’re good for now. The store’s all clean, it’s going to be a quiet day, and—” Bert stopped short when the storeroom door flew open, and Addie practically skipped out.
“You won’t believe how many views your fade vid got, Tony!”
Tony looked at her, narrowing his single eye. She wore tapered jeans over her canvas walking shoes and a snug, faded black band T-shirt—some synth-pop rocker group that had been popular a few years back. “Yeah?”
“Yep! Already caught up to your first vid. Over a hundred thousand last night. I picked up two hundred more followers, too!”
“That’s great, honey!” Bert was beaming, and Tony didn’t want to be a downer, so he kept his quip about “really making a difference now” to himself. Instead, he just nodded and smiled.
“Glad I could help.”
“So, it’s Boxer Day! Are we going to breakfast, Dad?”
“Oh, honey, why don’t you take Tony over to Manuel’s? I’ll sit this one out and watch the store.”
“Uh, Bert—” Tony shook his head. “—that’s what you hired me for.”
“Honestly, you two!” Bert sighed, shaking his head. He walked over to his stool, visibly limping. “It’s my gout. I don’t want to walk more than I need to.”
“Gout?” Tony snorted. “What is this, the middle ages? Don’t you have any meds for that?”
“Sure, I have a scrip, but Doc Peters doesn’t keep it stocked. He’s the only doc around here that’d trade for it, and I won’t give MaxPharma two-hundred and fifty bits for something that’ll go away if I just watch my diet for a week or so.”
“Seriously, Dad?” Addie whined, walking over to the counter to pour herself some coffee. Tony watched her methodically doctor it with sweetener packets, stirring between each dose.
“Have fun, sweetie. I’m gonna save my limping for the fair. I don’t care how bad it is; I’m not going to miss Rene’s booth—she’s showing off her art!”
Tony set his cup down. “The, uh, messenger lady?”
Addie nodded. “Yeah, she does paintings on the side. Portraits, really.”
“And guess whose mug is going to be on display!” Bert held his hands under his chin, sitting up straight and preening.
“Hah! For real?” Tony chuckled. “Nice one, Bert.”
Addie stared at her dad for a few seconds, her cup frozen where she’d lifted it for a sip. “When did she paint you?”
“You see, my dear girl? Life doesn’t cease when you’re not in the room! I visited Renee a few weeks back while you were off gallivanting for one of your stories.”
“Oh, brother! I never said I thought nothing happened when I’m not around!” She put her cup down and made a face. “This tastes like you filtered the grounds through motor oil.”
Bert snapped his fingers, opening his eyes wide. “That’s where I put that old oil filter!”
Tony snorted, and Addie groaned. She pointed to the door. “C’mon, Tony. Dad’s buying us breakfast!”
“I am?”
“Just ’cause you’re wimping out doesn’t get you off the hook! Want us to bring you anything?”
Bert chuckled and shook his head. “I already ate, sweetie.”
Tony looked from Addie to Bert. “You’re sure it’s all right?”
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Burt waved his hand, nodding. “Go on! Have some fun. Keep Addie company.”
Outside, Addie pointed to the right. “Manuel’s is this way.”
Tony moved to walk beside her. “Your dad’s too nice. I feel like I should be doing something.”
“I know.” Addie looked up at him and smiled. “That’s why I decided I like you. You don’t act entitled to anything.”
“Oh? You like me, huh?”
“Well, maybe ‘like’ is too strong. Let’s just say I don’t actively dislike you, which is how I felt when we first met.”
“Oh, please! Don’t hold back on my account.” Tony laughed, and Addie smiled along with him. He’d been a little on the fence about her looks—she was always a little serious-faced, and she didn’t exactly style herself to look pretty, but he had to admit her blue eyes sure sparkled nicely when she smiled. As he had the thought, a wave of guilt rolled up from somewhere deep, and he remembered Emily.
“Something I said?” Addie asked, pausing at the corner.
“Nah. I just keep thinking about stuff from…” He shrugged and pointed to the bandage covering his missing eye. “You know.”
That sky-blue twinkle in her eyes faded to stormy ocean waves, and she nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to stay upbeat when you keep getting reminded you’re down here among the dross.”
She turned to cross the street, and Tony jogged after her. “Hey! That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“I don’t have a PAI! How am I supposed to look up words like ‘dross’?”
That got a snort out of her, and she shook her head, looking at him sideways as they started up Turnstyle Road. Briefly, Tony wondered who made up street names, but then Addie distracted him again. “Are you being serious? It means rubbish—garbage.”
“Well, shit, that makes it even less fair!”
“How’s that?” Addie hopped over a pair of kids—they couldn’t have been more than five or six—who were sitting on the sidewalk drawing something with chalk.
“How? I mean, have I ever complained about you or the neighborhood? I mean, shit, I think you and Bert are a couple of the best people I’ve ever met.”
“Well, what am I supposed to think when you keep getting all mopey every time you remember where you came from?” She paused, and Tony realized they were standing outside a busy Mexican restaurant. It was kind of a hole in the wall—a narrow storefront with old-school glass windows. But inside, he could see the place was packed with tables, and out front, people stood in line waiting to get in. Addie stepped to the back of the queue, and Tony followed.
“Cut me a little slack, will you? I just woke up down here a couple of days ago. You expect me to forget my old life? Forget about the people who screwed me over? The people I miss?”
Addie turned toward him, looking up into his face, and he could see she was regretting her behavior. Her expression softened, and she shook her head. “No, ’course not. I’m sorry, Tony; I’ve always had a problem keeping friends. My tongue’s faster than my brain.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day, then, ’cause it’ll take worse than that to chase me off.” He jostled her shoulder and added, “I’d say you’re wrong, though. Seems like most of the people in this district think of you as a friend.”
“That’s just this neighborhood, and that’s mostly because of my dad.” Her eyes twinkled again, and she punched him in the shoulder. “But! I’m starting to get some cred, thanks to our vids. That kid I tried talking to at Royal Breeze said he’d meet me at the fair tonight. Do you want to come?”
Tony nodded and tried to wink his right eye, wincing at the sensation. It didn’t exactly hurt, but the muscles around the socket, along with his eyelids, had been pretty severely damaged, and it just felt uncomfortable.
Addie stifled a giggle. “What was that face?”
“That was me forgetting my right eye is a mess. Um, yeah, I’ll be going ’cause Golden talked me into fighting in his little tournament.”
“Seriously?” Addie folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him. “Do you think that’s wise? We’re not talking about some low-level street thugs here, but real fighters. I’ve seen some of those matches—you know, doing research.”
“You really know how to build up a guy’s confidence.”
“I’m just saying, like, you’ve only got one eye, Tony!”
“I know, I know. Golden said I could tap if I felt like I was getting my ass whipped, so, yeah, I’m gonna give it a try. The money’s good.” The line had moved several times while they spoke, and now they were right outside the door. Tony leaned a hand against the frame while they talked.
“What time do you have to show up?”
“I guess the first fight is at six, and I’m fourth up, but there will be three rings going. So, I dunno, I was going to show up at six to watch, but if you need something—”
“No! No, I don’t. It’s fine; I can meet Jamal on my own.”
“Oh.” Tony straightened from his leaning position and folded his arms. “Yeah, that’s chill.” Maybe because he was mimicking her posture and she felt silly, or maybe because something else was bothering her, Addie hmphed and turned to face the restaurant.
He stared at the back of her head, noting she’d pulled her hair back into a pink comb-clip, and then they were inside and waiting to be seated. The smell of spices and cooking food made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Addie turned back to him, her expression pleasant again. “It smells good, doesn’t it?”
“Hell yes, it does.”
“They make the best migas here.”
“God, I can smell the tortillas. They make their own?”
“Yep. Manuel refuses to buy KitchenCo foods like most of the other restaurants around. He tries to stay authentic but has to substitute a lot, depending on what his suppliers can get through the checkpoints.”
“Damn. It smells wonderful.”
Addie giggled. “Wonderful, huh? You’re talking like my dad.”
Tony shrugged. A few minutes later, they were ushered to a small table about halfway into the dining room along the wall. When they’d taken their seats and a waitress almost immediately deposited two cups of coffee on their table, Addie said, “I’ll have the migas.”
Tony nodded. He’d had the dish before at other places and liked it fine, but he also wanted to earn some points with Addie, so he said, “Me too.”
When the waitress bustled to the next table, Addie looked at him. “I want to see you fight, so I’ll try to meet Jamal after.”
The words unclenched something in Tony, and he found himself relaxing. Had he wanted her to be there so badly? Was it just because she was his only friend in District Seventeen? The question made him pause, and he wondered if he wasn’t being honest with himself. She and her dad might well be his only friends in the world by now. His face must have reflected the disturbing thought because Addie made that hmph sound again, and she looked at something on her AUI. “Hey…”
Her eyes refocused on him. “Hey?”
“Hey, um, thanks for that. I mean, for wanting to come support me.”
“Support? I just want some footage—”
“Oh, you rat!” Tony laughed.
The breakfast was every bit as good as Addie had promised—a big plate of scrambled eggs which almost tasted real, mixed with house-made corn tortilla strips, topped with some kind of gooey, tasty cheese substitute, and dressed with fresh pico de gallo. Tony didn’t leave a scrap on his plate, not even any salsa, and when they left the restaurant, he felt ready for a nap, even though it was only a little after nine in the morning. As they walked up the sidewalk toward Bert’s store, he yawned hugely, and Addie laughed. “Tired?”
“Yeah, woke up early and didn’t sleep great.”
“Better take a nap, then, ’cause it sounds like you’re going to have a heck of a night. If you win your first fight, how many more are there?”
“Good question,” Tony laughed. “Golden just said there was some nice prize money, but I don’t know how many fights I have to win to get it.”
“Brother!” Addie laughed, shaking her head. “You need a really sharp PAI, don’t you? One that will remind you to ask basic questions!”
Tony chuckled, a little chagrined, but when he saw the scene on the next corner, he got quiet and pulled Addie toward the building, dragging her to a stop. He pointed at the scene; a merc was slapping kinetic bands around the wrists of a burly, bearded man dressed like a banger with a leather jacket sporting gang colors. Tony didn’t know why he stopped, but some instinct told him he and Addie shouldn’t be too close if things went sideways for the merc.
Addie saw what had spooked him, and she whispered, “Oof! I should’ve brought my drone! Look at that officer’s shoulder patch—Boxer corpo-sec. But see his helmet? See the skull on the side? He’s Black Talon, which is basically their special forces.”
Tony nodded. He could see from the corporate soldier’s gear that he was ready for serious business. He had ballistic plating on his chest and back, and his arms and legs were sheathed in black HyperMesh. Tony had used something similar and knew it would provide armor while enhancing the wearer’s strength and speed. He practically salivated, seeing the guy’s fully automatic needler SMG, his Ka-Bar-style vibroblade, and the optics built into his sleek black helmet.
“If I had that gear…” he whispered to himself, then stopped short, realizing how pointless that line of thinking was. If he had that gear, then what? He couldn’t go after Eric and Jen with just a suit of decent combat armor and a few weapons. He’d need a lot more in his corner than that. Still, if he had that kind of gear, he could start taking some real jobs. He could earn some serious bits, which would help him get to where he needed to be. He sighed, shaking the thought off as the elite corpo-sec soldier threw the bound banger over his shoulder and stalked to the middle of the street. “Where—”
His question was cut short as a huge drone descended, its oversized rotors eerily quiet. Asphalt dust and other debris swirled up; the soldier clipped a dangling line to his harness, and then the drone lifted off, seemingly unbothered by the weight of two large men. Like nothing had happened, traffic started moving again, and the hush that had fallen over the intersection disappeared as people began to talk, shout, and move about. “Weird,” he grunted, still trying to wrap his head around the swift, almost casual abduction.
“Never seen anyone snatched off the street in New Manhattan?” Addie asked archly.
“I mean, maybe not. I’ve seen similar grabs, though, I guess—just not what I expected down here in the Blast. What would warrant a banger getting picked up like that?”
“I don’t know, but I sure wish I’d had my drone. I would have liked a close-up of that Black Talon officer and the person he picked up. I know he looked like a banger, but down here, a lot of people dress like that. I didn’t get a good look at his face.”
Tony gestured for Addie to start walking again. “Nah, it’s good you didn’t have it.”
As though he’d insulted her lineage, Addie whirled on him. “What? Why?”
“I mean, if I were that soldier and a random drone started flying around while I was mid-op, I’d probably shoot it down.” Tony jerked his thumb toward the sky. “Or my buddy operating the much bigger, armed drone watching over me might do it.”
“What?” Again, Addie looked scandalized.
Tony nodded. “Yep. Bye-bye, Humpty.”
Addie laughed, shaking her head. “I like it when you call him Humpty. I think I’ll start using that name again.”
Tony lowered his shades and looked down at her, locking his eye on hers. “Why’d you stop?”
She shrugged. “I told you. It was a name I gave him when I was a kid. I guess I thought it was childish.”
“Well, nobody’s gonna laugh at your drone's name—not in a mean way. Especially when you’re building up so much rep in the district. Pretty soon, people are going to want selfies with you and that goofy drone.”
Addie smiled brightly, nodding along with his words. “You know what, Tony? You’re a much nicer person with a full stomach.”