“Shimano Heavy Indushtries,” Jolie says, midway through taking a massive bite of rice, “has their corpo fingers in too many goddamn things.”
We sit around our tiny coffee table in a late-night council of four night owls. Cartons of takeout strewn every which way. Pillows for chairs. Muted streams playing in the background. The familiar scent of oily foods heavy in the air. Jolie to my left, a freshly scrubbed Mori to my right, and an exhausted Ajax across. Tea and energy drinks the centerpiece of us all.
Ajax looks like he’s almost about to collapse every time he lifts a spoon to his mouth. The usual life to him is barely present. I never thought fighting as little as we did could take so much out of him. At our most competitive, we’ve stayed locked in the same fighting squares for hours at a time. Maybe he wasn’t lying about his sleep schedule. Smog from the Vents still greases his hair, and his handmade rapier- a real weapon that won’t disappear even when he powers down his JOY- leans against the wall behind him. Ninety degrees away, Mori fidgets like a wet dog while trying not to blow through a grossly oversized bowl of chicken and rice. Her hair is soaked through from a recent shower, skin a scratched and mottled pale. Still, there’s a wariness hidden behind the casualness with which she sits; watches us. An aged distance to her eyes that no one as young as her should have. Borrowed clothes from Jolie do a poor job of fitting her far shorter frame. The shirt hangs almost to her knees. I offered one of mine, but she just waved me off with a laugh.
Electric-blue projections waver to life above the table, spooling outwards from Jolie’s JOY. One of her nimble hands works the screens with a finger, pulling up a three-wide spread that slowly rotates in a circle for all of us to see. The other keeps navigating food from her plate to her mouth, long since having mastered the art of eating while working.
She jabs a finger at the centermost projection. “First they snap up that new minor league fighter the instant he goes up for sponsorships. That alone was suspicious.”
“Almost like they were waiting for him,” I say.
“Right.” She pushes her glasses higher up her nose. “On its own, maybe not the worst. Maybe SHI bribed Bishop to not show up to his fight. Who knows. It’s not unheard of. But this…” the second screen activates, showing an electronic picture of the shipping container we left in the Vents. “…this complicates things. I ripped the manifest from the container’s hardware before we ran. It started its life at a warehouse in the Orange before it was moved to those docks just this morning. But it’s where it was going that’s the real nail.”
And that’s when her third screen blinks to life. My chewing stops, spoon stalling in the bowl in front of me. The fishhook し logo of Shimano Heavy Industries rotates into view atop an electric-blue model of a towering skyscraper.
“That’s SHI-3, the hub of the corp’s R&D and engineering offices. 100 Tanazaki Court, Pavilion District, Capital, Section G. In other words…”
“Uptown,” Ajax finishes. “Right in the middle of the research district, to be specific.”
“Correct.”
Mori jabs a noodle-wrapped fork at the projection. “So you guys were chasing corpos in the Vents, not Dynasty?”
“We’re looking into a missing pro fighter,” I explain, picking my spoon back up. “Our friends at Shimano Heavy look like they’re related to it more deeply than just a sponsorship. Akis Prazen’s home address was in the same block as the docks. SHI sponsors him like they knew Bishop was going to go missing. And now, that same address is used as a staging ground for some undercover shipment of biotech they were trying very hard to keep under wraps.”
I don’t even have to finish the thought out loud.
“They’re definitely connected to Bishop’s disappearance,” Ajax agrees. He pauses for a slow blink, still studying the skyscraper projection. “That name those enforcers were mentioning- there’s only one Vex in the capital who would have the reach to be involved in a mysterious undercity deal. Shimano Vex. Third son of Shimano Yor. We don’t know what he might have been moving or what the corporation might need it for, but we do know where it was supposed to be going: right to their front porch.”
“And we’re not the only ones who do,” Jolie frowns. She summons another screen with a flick of her thumb. This one displaying a blurry, highly magnified image of the young fighter who vanished right when the battle began. Black hair, gold eyes. I lean forward instinctively, studying his features until I notice Ajax is doing the exact same thing across the table.
He arches an eyebrow at me through the projection. “You too?”
“He was different.”
Ajax nods in begrudging agreement. “Dangerous.”
Mori swallows loudly. “I’ve never heard of him on the streets before. Guy like that, someone in the Vents would have seen him around if he were from the undercity. Mean’s he’s gotta be from uptown or out of town.”
“The Shimanos do have a history of poaching mercenaries, but they tend to only hire fighters from our Section’s pro leagues. They’re old-fashioned. Which makes this guy even more of a mystery.” Jolie’s lips purse. “I ran his face through our civic databases at the M and came up empty. Whoever he is, he’s a ghost to our Section.”
“You’re sure he’s not Prazen?” I ask. “Prazen was a Mecha. It could have been anyone under that shell.”
She scoffs quietly. “Are you asking me if I’m sure that a first-year uni student wasn’t just inducted into the Sectional minor league, Mars?”
“To be fair, he didn’t fight,” Ajax notes.
Her eyes roll behind her glasses. “Even if that is Prazen, his real identity isn’t our problem. What is our problem is that he vanished from that hangar without leaving a single trace behind. Which means Shimano Heavy Industries knows someone knows about their deal. And think about it. We’re four-” she cuts herself off and raises a finger at Mori’s side of the table- “three uni students. Top of our respective programs, yes. But we picked up the chain and followed it this far in under a week. Why haven’t the authorities figured this out too? They’ve had just as long as we have, and the news streams haven’t even broken the story yet. They should have no problem putting a two-piece puzzle together.”
“I forget, you guys trust the police up here,” Mori chuckles. “Newsflash, friends. SHI’s little squiggly mark is printed on half the stuff you can buy in the capital. Your police are bought and paid for. And they’re not the only ones. I’d bet my airboard that most of their budget comes from overcity companies.”
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“Wardens are beholden to the champion,” Ajax counters. “Not politicians, and especially not corporations.”
I shake my head, swallowing another mouthful of chicken. “I’m with Mori. We might not see it from the highrises, but we all know money greases everything in the skyscrapers. How else would Shimano Heavy be able to stage open deals with a criminal syndicate without having the authorities crawling all over them?”
Ajax crosses his arm and bows his head. “If they’re buying off the authorities like you say, Mars, how high does their influence go? Do they control the leagues themselves? The Champion?”
“No. Not Fang. He’s always spoken against corruption. It’s why he lets the politicians bicker by themselves.”
“You’re so trusting of a man you’ve never even met.”
I roll my eyes. “I have, actually.”
“Right. And I’ve a bachelor’s in engineering.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Can you see my face?” Ajax asks.
“You’re sitting right across the-”
“-this is the face of someone who doesn’t believe you at all, Mars Mons.”
Mori starts choking on her rice holding back snickers. Reaching over, Jolie makes a delicate point of sloshing a few drops of water out of a pitcher as she refills Ajax’s cup, then stares at him over the bridge of her glasses. “Do I need to call an autocab?”
He stares my sister down for a long moment before finally realizing a lesson I learned over a decade ago. There are some fights worth fighting. Some that make a point even when you lose. And some you should never fight at all. His eyes slide away with a sigh.
“Fine,” he growls. “Not that I even disagreed in the first place.”
“Then why argue?” Mori asks, hooking a sarcastic eyebrow at him.
I put a hand on her face and push her towards her bowl, trying to salvage some piece of Ajax’s already bruised pride. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Ohoh. It’s guy stuff.” Her voice drops an entire octave as she straightens her shoulders as wide as they can go. “Me have testosterone, no be nice to rival.” She chuckles and she fills her mouth with food again before swallowing loudly. “Is bitching a boys-only club? ‘Cause I want in.”
“Are you going to kick her out, Mars?” Jolie asks, glancing at me. “Or am I going to have to do it for you?”
Nothing about Mori changes in response to the jab, but the way she shifts back into leaning with her palms on the carpets, it’s like she suddenly grew bristles. Her voice hardens up, shock cold sober. “In case you guys didn’t notice, we’re all in trouble right now. SHI is huge. They’re the biggest tech company in the Section, so it’s only a matter of time before they figure out exactly who it was that crashed their party down in the Vents. And not to stick on you three like a parasite…”
“A bit late for that,” Jolie mutters.
Mori continues without skipping a beat. Her fingers wind lazily through the ends of her hair.
“…if I go back to the Vents, I’m probably dead. Donezo. Getting lynched or garroted or something I’m sure will be a dozen times worse. My initials are the high score on Dynasty’s hit lists. Usually that isn’t a problem. But if they’re partnering with SHI, they’ll be able to find my hideout like that.” She snaps her fingers and draws a very pointed line across her throat. “I take care of a bunch of kids from my home block. I don’t want them getting caught in the crossfire. And I don’t exactly want my severed head to end up on a syndicate Executor’s plate, either.”
“You can stay with us,” I say.
Jolie almost snorts water through her nose when she starts coughing.
“We have a couch for a reason. But if you stay, you’re going to help us with this. Agreed?”
Mori winks and bumps the fist I proffer. “Deal. I’d never pass up a chance to stick it to the corps.”
“Ajax? You in?”
Sleepy golden eyes answer from across the table. Ajax’s hair is a mess, loose ends curling out of his braid from stem to tip. He makes a point of yawning as he stretches his thin frame, slowly picking himself up from his pillow seat. His soft voice cuts the air like ice when he finally deigns to speak.
“This isn’t about sticking it to the corps,” he says. “It’s about finding the truth about Bishop’s disappearance. If I help you, we’re not going to be vigilantes. And you can’t be as reckless as you are around the university. We’re not dealing with set records between children. The Venter is right.” Mori flinches. Ajax doesn’t even slow. “Shimano Heavy is the most powerful corporation in the Section. Pick the wrong fights, and it’s not going to end up with bruises. People could die.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you, Mars?”
His gaze rankles every drop of competitive instinct in me. Two years of rivalry, and we’ve only ever traded insults with each other. It’s hard to believe we just shared a meal in my living room. But no amount of temporary cordiality can erase the truth of our existence. We’re binary stars. Two mismatched forces of will locked in each other’s gravity, constantly fighting for supremacy. Rivals from the moment we met. His stuck-up confidence is a constant aggravation. Something to fight against, not partner with.
Yet, he’s not wrong. And as often as I might regret it, I’ve never been in the business of making enemies.
I swallow my pride and nod, drawing brief surprise from Jolie and Mori. Neither of them miss the moment as it transpires. Grimacing at the cuts that split open along my sides, I stand from the floor and extend a fist across the table, exactly halfway.
“I’m going to beat you before graduation,” I say, raising the fist a little higher. “I’ve lost to you for four years because I keep fighting my way. But that’s not going to be the case forever. I’m changing. Learning.” My shoulders lift in a small shrug as I grin. “I’ll show you, if you give me a chance.”
Ajax’s lips purse into a thin line as he watches my first. Then, hesitantly, he reaches across the table to meet it halfway.
“This does feel strange.”
“We’re still rivals.”
“Of course. And the moment we get back to campus-”
“-business as usual. I’m gunning for your seat.”
“Good.” He sighs and takes his hand back, stifling a quiet cough. “It wouldn’t do for us to be seen colluding, anyways. The rest of the rankers are…”
His voice falters as Jolie and Mori strike up their own conversation on their way to the kitchen.
“Are they always like this?” Mori asks.
Jolie’s ponytail bobs knowingly. “You have no idea.”
I call out to her. “Hold on, you two.”
“Yeah?”
“If we aren’t taking this to the police, we’re going to that skyscraper on our own.”
Mori laughs out loud. “You guys can’t just dress up in lab coats and expect to walk right in again. This is Shimano Heavy we’re talking about.”
Jolie’s already got her JOY out.
“Fortunately for us,” she replies, “I know just the guy.”