Recognition flashed across Officer Laramee’s face, his eyes growing as wide as mine must’ve been. He coughed, dribbling a mouthful of coppery drink back into his glass and backhanding his mouth. “Uh. It’s you.”

My heart thumped to the beat of the classic rock blaring from tinny speakers. Officer Laramee was Mom’s book club cop buddy? Guess I had some surprise left in the tank after all. “You’re John?” I couldn’t decide whether I was embarrassed about kicking my mom’s friend in the balls—or wanted to do it again.

“What exactly is going on here?” Mom said hotly, sliding into a seat.

I gulped, wilting into the chair next to her. “We’ve already met. Twice.”

“What? When?”

Laramee assumed a tone like he was reading a police report. “This afternoon, Officer Stanton and I tracked the unaffiliated bot to Oak Street Coffee where he was conversing with two teens.” He shot Mom a look, more information passing between them than I could decipher. “Janice, I had no idea she was your daughter.”

“Ko,” Mom said with her throaty, angry voice, “why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

She was complaining about me keeping secrets? “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

She ground her teeth, her eyes blazing. “I wanted to, but … You’ve got to understand, Ko—if you’d let something slip at school … If Otokotronics had found out, they’d have come after us.” She held up a hand to quiet me. “I know you can keep a secret now. But toddlers can’t, and I never found the right time to tell you.” She knitted her brows. “I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

I folded my arms. There it was—the fissure all of her guilt had crawled out of. She’d started off justified, high-minded, protecting a baby. Then she simply … never told me when I got old enough to handle the truth. She was just worried about blowback on herself, and it ate at her.

Laramee cleared his throat. “At the coffee shop, Ko was … uncooperative—which frankly I didn’t appreciate—and allowed the unaffiliated bot to disable Officer Stanton’s bot before escaping. Which Stanton didn’t appreciate. Fortunately, we’d just repaired the spare.”

“Jesus Christ.” Mom looked around the pub, wild-eyed. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Oh, trust me, Mom, we haven’t gotten to the good part.” She was going to freak about the shoot-out, and—not gonna lie—part of me was looking forward to the fireworks. I was still reeling from the multiple worlds bomb drop, and I wanted her to feel a fraction of what I did. It wasn’t a noble sentiment.

“This unaffiliated bot was our best lead on the Talisman,” Laramee said, swigging his drink, “as he’d been spotted skulking around behind Mission Pizza earlier. But when we caught up with him there, Ko and her friend were present, interfering again.”

Why did everyone think Garrett knew something about the Talisman? It was kind of exhausting. “Garrett doesn’t have the Talisman,” I said. “He is looking for it though.”

“What?” Mom said, spittle jumping from her lips. “How do you even—”

“And then …” Laramee said, sucking air through his teeth, a sidelong glance at Mom. “And then three Otokotronics bots nosing around for the Talisman rolled up in an SUV—driven by Dia Bosko.”

Mom paled. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“Who’s Dia Bosko? That lady in denim? You guys know her?”

Laramee swirled his glass, putting it down squared with the table edge. “Know of her. Old-school Otokotronics Security, a true believer. Ruthless, if the stories are to be believed. Feeding people their fingers, that sort of thing. But she never pilots bots, does everything in person. Doesn’t like the reduced control. So if she’s here, she transited to this world in person.”

“That’s suicide,” Mom said.

“That’s incredibly lucky.” Laramee shrugged, thumbing his ceramic wedding band. “We did it once. Anyway, when we didn’t produce the Talisman, Dia proceeded to pin us down with small arms fire. They must’ve followed the unaffiliated bot’s backup tracker, same as us.”

Backup tracker? So Garrett had actually removed a tracker from his bot—just not all of them. Ugh.

Mom laced her fingers behind her head, her eyes flashing. She turned to catch the bartender’s gaze, motioning at the table.

“During the gunfight,” Laramee continued, his voice heavy with contempt, “your daughter commandeered one of Officer Stanton’s EMPs and deployed it, taking out the unaffiliated bot, all the Otokotronics bots—and Officer Stanton. Fortunately, Dia laid low once her bots were offline. But the EMP must have triggered the dumpster portal as well.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I slapped the lacquered table. Matt was right about the disappearing trash after all. “That’s how the girl’s body vanished from the dumpster, isn’t it? An EMP or something triggered the portal—and boom, empty dumpster?”

Laramee gave me a grim look. “Bodies are easier to take care of on the other side.”

There really were portals to other worlds—and I’d accidentally triggered one mid-gunfight. I didn’t know much about Mom’s ex-union group or whether I could trust anyone in it, but joining up really might be the best way to protect me and Mom from Beard Dude and Otokotronics.

“So would you guys say this is a usual Wednesday night for your little club?” I failed to swallow my smirk. “Because if so … Sign. Me. Up.” My whole reality was coming off its hinges, and my first instinct was to snark at my mother.

Mom seethed, hands flat on the table. “Ko, go wait in the van.”

Laramee didn’t flinch under her searing gaze.

The calm in her voice scared me more than shouting would, but I folded my arms anyway. “I’m not going anywhere till I get my secret union membership card from the bottom of a Cracker Jack box or wherever it was Laramee found his neat LYPD badge.”

“Janice, are you serious? We’re not running a daycare here. You just heard about the havoc she left in her wake tonight. You and I both know where this kind of behavior leads if unchecked. And what it takes to atone afterwards.” He looked pensive, remorseful. Like he was speaking from experience—or thought he was.

I snorted. “You’re just salty I saved you from those bots.” He really did fuck all, hiding there behind his police car.

Mom gave us an eye roll. “She kind of has a point, even if she never listens. You were the one with the gun and the badge, John.”

I ignored Mom’s jab. “So he’s really a cop? The police have secret robots?”

“LYPD is in the dark about the bots and portals,” Mom said. “It’s just their hiring standards aren’t particularly high.”

Before Laramee could splutter out a response, the bartender glided to our table, a gorilla of a man with tight jeans and ruddy cheeks. He slid beers in front of Mom and Laramee before giving me an appraising look and drifting off.

Mom grunted and dropped a golden pill into one bottle, pushing it toward me.

“What’d you just put in there?” I asked sharply.

“Little something from the other side. Neutralizes the alcohol.” She gave me a saccharine smile. “Enjoy.”

Woah. I took a sip, grimacing. It tasted of grapefruit and stale bread. So, like normal beer.

“She got lucky.” Laramee pressed his fingertips to the table. “She could have easily gotten us smeared across that alley instead. I can’t keep a lid on this case anymore, and I’m this close to getting put on leave. There’s talk at the station of bringing in the feds. This is not the time to add untrained children to the mix.”

“So train me.” I flashed him a smile. “I’m a fast learner.”

He ignored my dig. “They have the last portal, Janice. Someone scooped up the dumpster after the gunfight. They must’ve realized their mistake at taking the other one yesterday, and now they’re both gone. Did I mention they had a crate?”

“Jesus,” Mom whispered.

“What? What’s a crate?”

“John,” Mom said, “based on everything you’ve described, it’s clear she’s neck-deep in Otokotronics business. I can only protect her if I keep her close.”

“This is a bad idea,” Laramee said.

“She’s threatening to leave town.”

He sized me up anew. “That would be difficult from inside a cell.”

My insides twisted. They were talking about me as if I wasn’t here. I flung up a hand. “Does anyone care what I think?”

“No!” they shouted in unison. A couple of grandmotherly women huddling around pint glasses spared us a glance.

This really wasn’t working for me. I wasn’t a child. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m joining your secret club. I don’t care if I get a decoder ring. I’m declaring myself a member starting now. So how do we stop Otokotronics? Or would you rather I randomly EMP more robots?”

“How long can you legally lock her up?” Mom asked, dead serious.

Laramee leered down at me. “Who said anything about legally?”

My mouth was dry. This was spinning out of control. “You two are hilarious. But what if I can bring you Garrett? You said you wanted to question him.”

Laramee set aside his tumbler. “You bring in Garrett, and then as far as I’m concerned, you can help us find the Talisman.”

The muscles in my back relaxed. And there it was—my way in. “Are you gonna interrogate him?”

His eyes gleamed. “We prefer the term enhanced conversation.”

I shivered. Laramee sure could put on the creepy when he wanted.

“Ko,” Mom said. “If Garrett knows something about the Talisman, we need to find out.”

“But he doesn’t. I already talked to him.”

“Let us determine that for ourselves,” Laramee said.

“How’re we even gonna find it before Otokotronics does?”

He rotated his ring around his finger. “There’s a warehouse not far from here where we may have picked up the girl on security cameras. I have an idea about how you and your friend can help us search.”

He didn’t add without getting in the way, but it was there if you listened.

“So do we have a deal?” Mom asked.

“On one condition.” I lowered my voice. While we were negotiating, I might as well negotiate. “I want one of those cool glowy guns.”

“After what happened tonight,” she said, her eyes slitted, “you’ll be lucky to get a full-sized stapler.”