After I got home, Matt came over and Mom set us up with her remote-control robots again. Then she fielded a series of somber calls, pacing figure eights into the kitchen linoleum while Matt and I fruitlessly robo-searched another stretch of alleys where Ko Prime had been spotted. But the afternoon wore on with no Talisman to show for it, and despair settled over the living room like fog on the bay.

Matt finally left, and Mom hid the game console before scaring up dinner with what little we had in the fridge. She picked at her pasta, jumping whenever her phone buzzed. I buzzed too—with nervous energy after a day of doing nothing about Agent Summer’s extradition threat. I wanted to tell Mom. But then if she did something that made the FBI deem her a flight risk, I might never see her again.

She went to bed before I got up the nerve to say anything, so I waited for the light under her door to click off while Matt waited for me in his RV. Sliding on my boots, I tiptoed into the night, pulling my hoodie close against the chill. Matt had reluctantly agreed to come to Mission Pizza to look into Ko Prime’s presumed visit—as long as Garrett was there in his dad’s bot to protect us. And with the drunks out, we could blend into the crowds, staying far away from any alleys. It wasn’t without risk, but I was doing this for Mom. She’d hopefully understand when this was all over.

Once I was safely aboard Matt’s RV, he drove us across town through light evening traffic. His brows were drawn, his shoulders hunched as he gripped the wheel, the lights of Las Yerbas behind him. We sped toward Sunset Bowl and Family Fun Center, its building consumed by shadow, more like a defunct Sears than anywhere you’d voluntarily go for entertainment. But people did—in droves every weekend.

Tonight though, something was off. I sat up, gawking as we breezed past. Paper lined the windows, the sign above lacking its usual glow. Sunset Bowl, a Las Yerbas fixture, had gone out of business. And now that I thought about it, so had the popular book store on Ninth and the crowded sushi place on Arroyo. Something was going on with all these businesses closing, and I didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Undaunted by a few shuttered shops, the Friday night crowd was out in force—roving packs of loud, casually well-dressed college bros and the women giggling at their jokes. Everyone straight-backed and bright-eyed, the night of debauchery and staggering home still ahead. Had Ko Prime been here among them last weekend ... or were we chasing a ghost?

Matt jetted the RV into a double-length spot, taking a draw from a melted Slurpee and wiping his mouth on a Covid-era N95 mask. “Shall we?”

I hopped to the curb as a gaggle of girls drifted past in a cloud of perfume. It was clear their mothers hadn’t cut their hair over a trash can in the bathroom while saying, Please hold still if you want the layers to be even this time. They reminded me of Inara from Spanish and her brand of no-shits-given thrifted fabulousness, and I yearned to just hang out with her. But you couldn’t exactly tell a new friend you were dealing with otherworldly robots, could you?

There was always Matt though. “I’m honestly surprised you agreed to come out,” I said. “You know, since my mom hasn’t signed your permission slip.”

He rounded the bumper to join me, eyeing his parking job. “I’d feel bad if I stayed home while you wound up robot food. At least until I got my hands on your special edition TI-83 after the funeral.”

I snorted, starting down the sidewalk. “Like you would wait till the funeral.”

He loped after me. “You wanna tell me why it’s so important we do this without your mom knowing?”

I launched into the highlights of my chat with Agent Summers, including her threat to extradite Mom if she ran. Matt listened intently as we walked, looking concerned as I tried not to tear up.

He gave me a sad smile. “You’re putting me in a real awkward position here. You know I’m deathly afraid of your mother. And now you’re giving her reason to hurt me.”

I pulled up short at Mission Pizza with its friendly neon sign, a once-bitten slice dripping with cheese. “Let’s just see if we can pick up Ko Prime’s trail, okay? I promise I’ll take care of my mom.” It was Matt’s choice to come out with me, but I still didn’t want to make things difficult for him.

He frowned, his face half-neon. “I wish I hadn’t just inhaled a box of pizza rolls.”

“Believe me,” I said, sweeping open the door, “I wish you hadn’t too.”

We strode inside to the cheery jangle of a bell, a crush of warm air promising puffy crust and too-sweet sauce. The space was long and narrow, ovens and counters and tattooed patrons, months-old event posters lining the walls. Garrett’s new bot, bent over some retro arcade game, excitedly mashed buttons despite the screen showing Demo Mode.

The real action would be closer to closing when the drunks—button-ups rumpled and makeup running—braved the lights to chase the booze in their bellies with heat-lamped slices. At least judging by the last time I’d gone out instead of studying, one million years ago.

A mid-thirties woman with tawny skin and a beaming smile—the owner, I think—called out a welcome from behind the register. Broad nose, chunky glasses, more rings than fingers.

I stepped out from behind Matt’s shadow, just picturing Ko Prime sitting at one of these tables—and the owner’s whole demeanor took a sharp turn.

Her smile cratered, a crooked finger directed at me. “You, out!” she shouted from behind the counter.

“What, why?” I asked.

Customers glanced up from floppy slices with mild interest. Garrett turned from his game to gape at the unfolding drama.

The woman swept her finger toward the door behind us, her eyes blazing. “I told you Saturday. Your spoiled-ass white girl attitude isn’t welcome here. Get the fuck out. Now. I don’t want any more of your shit.”

Crap, Saturday? She must’ve seen my face and assumed I was Ko Prime returning. I can’t say I blamed the owner; the resemblance struck me as uncanny too. But what exactly was Ko Prime doing at a pizza place? “I haven’t been here in months, lady.” I drifted toward the counter, my hands upturned. “Must be a mix-up.”

She hesitated, her brows knitted, tapping a ring on the glass. “Only mix-up is you coming back. You were banned. So take your skinny, troublemaking ass and turn it right back around.”

I halted steps from the counter, my heart trilling. We had to defuse this. She might know something about Ko Prime.

Garrett drifted toward us, his bot’s dark eyes on the owner. “She’s a paying customer. Is this how you treat your customers?” He fished in his pockets, coming up with a wallet.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Maybe you wanna go wait outside?” Matt whispered behind me. “Me and Garrett can take it from here.”

“What variety of pizza are you having, Ko?” Garrett slid a twenty onto the counter beside the congealed slices lurking under glass. “Fig and veggie prosciutto? Do they have that here? It’s been my usual order ever since meat became scarce.” He shook his head. “Carbon taxes.”

The owner was unmoved. And Garrett, while adorably out-of-touch, really wasn’t helping.

I met the woman’s flinty gaze. “I think you’re mixing me up with my sister. She’s missing. I’m looking for her.”

“Our sister is … disturbed,” Matt said. “Like, she’s into some heavy shit and won’t accept anyone’s help.” His chin almost quivered. “We need to find her before she gets hurt.”

Either he was leaning on his Drama background—or drawing on first-hand experience with his own sister.

The woman’s brow softened as she searched my face. She straightened, her expression guarded. “Your hair is different.”

I let my shoulders relax. “She cuts her own. I keep telling her not to.” I forced a smile, finding it surprising how smoothly the lies came tumbling out. “Can you tell me what she was doing here on Saturday?”

“Fucking my shit up. Didn’t have enough for a slice, so she lost it. Screamed at me, knocked over to-go orders, kicked the beverage case. Look, you see that?” She reached over the counter, waggling a ring-laden finger at a spiderweb crack in the polycarbonate.

“Jesus.” I exchanged a look with Matt. Who does that?

Garrett withdrew his twenty and casually snagged a folded menu with the checkered Mission Pizza logo like it was his plan all along.

“And get this—the little shit had the stones to reach over and take a slice.” The woman mimed reaching around the sneeze guard. “Then she just dipped. Ran out, slice in her teeth, fucking giggling. This is with half our distributors going under and our food costs way up. But no, you know what? I don’t even care about the pizza. It’s the disrespect. That, I won’t fucking take. She’s honestly lucky she ran.”

If this woman was to be believed, Ko Prime sounded like a real brat. “Do you think she was … on something?”

“Half my customers are on something. But they sure as shit don’t act like that.”

“Did she say anything?” Matt asked. “Where she was going next?”

Garrett put back the menu folded all wrong. “Or perhaps anything about a device called the Talis—”

I stomped my heel into his dress shoe, earning a confused look. Garrett meant well, but we needed some discretion here. This woman was clearly willing to talk to anyone.

“Before the screaming started, she was asking about Janice someone, kinda talking gibberish. But we don’t have a Janice here. Used to have a Jenny, before she went on a never-ending smoke break.” The woman shrugged, polishing the glass with a fingertip. “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

A chill crawled down my back. More evidence Ko Prime was looking for my mother. But why at a pizza place? “Okay, thanks. I’m really sorry about … everything.” I turned to go.

“Also, you might want to look into fixing your arcade machine,” Garrett said. “There’s something terribly wrong with the controls.”

Oh my God, this kid.

The woman curled her hand into a fistful of rings. “I already told this to the cops, twice. Maybe see if they know anything. Honestly, I hope you find your sister, get her the help she needs. We’ve all been there. God knows I have days when the girlfriend says I—”

Matt froze. “Back up a sec. The cops were here twice?”

“First the plainclothes assholes, then some Southern good ol’ boy in blue a couple days later.”

Crap. Stanton was already here scooping up our leads. But who were the plainclothes cops?

“Mind you,” the woman said, “this was before the gunshots Wednesday night when we lost power and LYPD took their sweet time getting here.”

“Oh!” Garrett said. “That must have been Ko’s EMP in the al—”

I ended his sentence with the force of my are you serious glare.

He was undeterred. “We have brownouts at home all the time. The grid just can’t keep up. But with Father’s generators, I usually don’t notice. Have you considered simply purchasing a generator? Perhaps I can buy you one. With fusion, you can—”

The woman gave him a puzzled look. “… fusion?”

Matt shook his head. “He … does a lot of gaming. Too much. His way of coping with the loss of … our sister.” He cleared his throat. “But you mentioned plainclothes cops? Saturday night?”

“Two detectives, I think,” she said, pausing for the dude at the oven to call out an order. “Not long after your sister left. Big guys, no necks, real serious. Said they were looking for a thief—some sorta cybercrime. Wanted to see security footage from a few days prior. I asked them if this looked like the sorta place could afford cameras. Told them I didn’t see shit.”

I gulped, my throat parched. What if that was Otokotronics impersonating police and sniffing around for the Talisman? “Well thanks anyway. I’ll keep asking aroun—”

She gave me a wry smile. “But I did. See something, I mean. Just didn’t tell ‘em. Not the biggest fan of our boys in blue—they’re always coming in, expecting free shit. Never around when you actually need them.”

Except they probably weren’t cops. I pressed against the counter, my tummy tingling.

Matt crowded in behind me. “What’d you see?”

“Any … devices?” Garrett asked, edging out of foot-stomping range.

“So it was last week, a slow night. I was in the alley on a never-ending call with my eldest. Something about financial aid, the drama of the week. I was maybe fifteen minutes deep, and that’s when your sister climbed outta the dumpster. Pretty sure it was her. And here’s the weird thing.” The woman dipped her head, her voice low. “I never saw her get in.”

Because she’d just portaled here. It must’ve been so dangerous. Who’d risk their life like that? “Did you see her talking to anyone? Maybe giving them something?”

The owner waved a handful of rings. “Your sister just looked around, big eyes, like she was soaring. And then she wandered off … Oh my God, I totally forgot.” She reached under the counter, ruffling through papers for a wafer-thin slab of polished stone the size of a credit card. “I found it after. It must’ve fallen outta her pocket.”

Could that be … the Talisman? No way. “I can … uh, give it to her when I track her down.”

“Actually, I think it’s expired. I tried to run it, charge her for the slice she stole, but the reader errored. Three times. I actually meant to shred the card.” She rustled around behind the counter. “Now where did I put my shredder.”

“No!” It came out louder than I intended. “My sister might … want it.”

“She’s making a collage,” Matt offered. “Of old credit cards. That’s why it doesn’t work. Art makes her … feel better.”

The owner shrugged. “Saves me from digging around in the back.” She thrust the card at us.

I snagged it, my body buzzing with electricity. “Uh, thanks. Have a good evening.” I turned to hustle Matt and Garrett outside.

“What, you’re not gonna buy anything?” the woman called after us.

The bell clanged as we cleared the door into cool night air. Foot traffic on the sidewalk was picking up, rowdy shouts drifting over the cars.

Matt tipped his chin at the card in my hand, shining dully under the neon lights. “I bet Ko Prime was bringing that to your mom.”

“But why?” I couldn’t ask her without divulging where we’d been. It might come to that though. “Is it … the Talisman?”

Garrett toed an overturned rental scooter like it might bite. “The Talisman is a microchip, so it’s possible that card contains it.”

“It’d be pretty funny if the Talisman was sitting at Mission Pizza this whole time.” I dragged a thumb along one side—and the card sprung to life with an edge-to-edge display, the entire surface shimmering with a constellation of pinprick lights as if embedded directly in it.