After the heart-to-heart—or as much of one as you can have with Tweak's eternal air of indifference—Fii bid farewell and stepped out of Tweak's lair back into the dim alley. Overhead, the usual sprawl of pipes and wires greeted her like a familiar canopy. As she left, the entrance melted back into the graffiti, leaving no trace of its existence.
Walking down the alleys, Fii was grateful for the late hour, when the sun no longer bore down relentlessly, granting some respite from the relentless heat. Even so, the residual warmth radiating from the concrete was stifling, and the humid air clung to her skin. Every step felt sticky.
Fii's thoughts drifted to the Zippers. Though there wasn't any kind of official association, she considered many of them friends. In their own peculiar way, the Zippers were like a loosely connected family, bonded by the wires they raced across and the risk they all took. Getting hijacked on a run wasn't completely unheard of—a certain danger came with the job—but this time had felt different.
Reflecting on what happened, it wasn’t just the theft that bothered her, but the methodology. The tactical gear. Coordinated movements. The fact that someone went to the trouble of constructing drones for a one-off heist was beyond overkill.
They even managed to take her out yet didn't bother to finish the job. A few more zaps like that while she was down and out could have... well, it wasn't worth thinking about.
The whole situation felt... off. Fii’s gut instinct rarely steered her wrong. It was often the first to raise a red flag when something didn't sit right.
Coming out into a slightly wider alley, she continued along her path back to the Rust Market. She nodded at a couple of familiar faces and kept her distance from a group of junkies huddled around a burning barrel, their eyes glazed over, their voices slurred. Most of them were lost in their own world, too far gone to acknowledge her passing. But she made sure to give them a wide berth anyway.
Soon enough, the muted buzz of the Rust Market grew louder. She could hear the mingling voices, the sound of goods being shuffled about, the intermittent crackle of old sound systems and the distant rumble of aging trucks moving merchandise.
As the path curved around a corner, the entire market lay sprawled in front of her, bustling even at this hour. People haggled over prices, stall owners shouted their deals, and the odd fight broke out here and there.
Fii sidestepped a pickpocket rushing past and pretended not to notice as a burly-looking man in a torn leather vest eyed her with interest.
"Hey, Super..." he called out, flashing a set of teeth that had seen better days. "Got some extra batteries, if ya know what I mean."
Smiling diplomatically, Fii walked on, letting the busy rhythm of the market drown out the ensuing jeers as she moved deeper into the heart of the bazaar.
The towering bulk of a derelict storage tank sat to her left. A beam of sunlight cutting through a break in the structures shone on the dull, corroded surface of the tank, highlighting a deep gash in the metal near the top where an old, peeling sign read 'No Climbing.' Of course, the sign was a waste of time. Looking closely, she could make out a few kids sitting near the edge, legs dangling over the side, chatting and taking in the view.
The colors in the sky began to shift, taking on the deeper hues of approaching sunset. Purples and oranges chased away the last traces of blue, reflecting off the twisted metal and glass of the slums' ramshackle buildings.
Rao's shop wasn't far from here, just a couple more streets. He had the uncanny ability to get his hands on just about any piece of tech imaginable. Maybe he'd heard a thing or two. Or would hear things in the near future.
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Finally, she arrived at a run-down metal shed wedged between two larger buildings. The door was an old sliding roller shutter with a layer of rust on it. While she didn't immediately see Rao himself, his glowing green token sat in plain view on a makeshift altar nearby—a sign that the shop owner was around and open for business.
As she lifted the metal shutter, the mechanism groaned, protesting at first, then yielded with a loud creak. She poked her head in. The smell of old, dusty electronics greeted her in that familiar, comforting way they did. The interior was cramped, dimly lit, and filled with an array of scavenged tech, all neatly arranged on shelves. Boxes piled up in the corners, with parts and gadgets spilling out of them.
Behind a counter at the back of the store, Fii noticed a small television quietly droning. An old VCR was connected to it.
Fii sighed. That explained what she tripped on when entering. A cord she had barely noticed ran from the outlet and disappeared into the tangled mess of wires behind the ancient TV.
Her attention shifted to the figure bent over, frantically searching underneath a stack of discarded keyboards. Rao's thick, salt-and-pepper hair was wild, matching his overall disheveled appearance.
Rummaging through an old radio, he fished out a burnt-looking fuse. "Aha! I knew this could be salvaged!" His voice held a victorious note as he placed the part carefully on the desk next to him.
The space around him was an organized chaos of sorts, where every seemingly random pile or messy heap had a purpose in his mind. To anyone else, it might seem like a junkyard, but for him, each piece, no matter how worn or seemingly broken, held potential. Even the 'useless' parts often found their way into something new, or they could be traded.
"Rao?" Fii called out.
Startled by her voice, Rao jerked upright. A hollow thunk resounded as his head bumped into the underside of the counter.
"Ouch!" he groaned, rubbing his head. He turned toward her, a sheepish grin appearing. "Why if it isn't my favorite client-slash-goods-distributor extraordinaire-slash-resident-superhero!"
"Which is a very long name, Rao."
"I get enthusiastic."
The countertop was a cluttered array of mechanical innards. Capacitors, transistors, resistors, and diodes, all mingling with circuit boards, connectors, and what seemed to be fragments of LEDs and switches. Among the mess, there were even more esoteric components: vacuum tubes, crystals, and antennas—a kaleidoscope of tech bits that hinted at everything from abandoned inventions to whimsical repair projects.
It was a chaotic collage, reflecting not just his profession but his personality too.
Fii idly lifted a chip from the table. The sticker had yellowed, making the inscription illegible. It had two rows of pins, bent in various directions, resembling an insect with broken legs.
"I really don't get how you and other tech vendors manage to sell old junk to people here," she confessed, running a finger over a circuit board that was more green than brown, its copper traces corroded with age. She made a face and wiped her hand against her pants.
"What do you mean?" Rao asked. He adjusted his smudged glasses. "Someone always needs these things, especially in a place like this. Here, functionality is a relative term, a concept, not an absolute. People modify, adapt, make do. Many are still holding onto appliances from three, sometimes five generations ago! Finding compatible replacement parts is no easy feat nowadays."
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"And yet, business is booming. What's the secret?" She placed the chip back on the pile and leaned on the counter. "It's not like everyone can afford the stuff, can they?"
Rao laughed. "Sure, if you're only looking at the obvious."
"Enlighten me then."
Fii was always in awe of how effortlessly he slipped into a stream of conscious thought. "For one, a lot of folks trade for what they need. Sure, we use tinks and ChitCreds for the most part, but it’s not the only currency. Did you know I once traded a twenty-year-old salvaged coffee machine for five meals? Imagine that. One morning, instead of my usual bitter sludge, I was having a savory bowl of yato soup. It was pure bliss."
As he continued his monologue, Rao's attention returned to the little contraption he had been tinkering with. She watched as his slender fingers worked deftly. Even though she couldn't see exactly what he was doing, the swift, assured movements hinted at a level of dexterity and familiarity that only came from decades of hands-on experience.
"And let's not forget the favors game. You know, lending a helping hand, exchanging services, that kind of thing. Oh, and did you know someone traded me a weekly meal for fixing their speakers? I mean, the damage wasn't major; just a couple of worn-out transistors, but you should've seen their faces light up when the bass started thumping again!"
"Okay, I get it. I kinda just forgot about all these other things." She brushed her hair from her eyes. "I'm so used to... you know. Running errands for tinks or a few spare meals here and there."
The hustle and flow of trade and barter in the slums often found their way around the lack of conventional currency. Out there, goods and services held tangible value, providing a safety net and a sense of security in the absence of material wealth. There was always a way for people to get by, one way or another.
Even if a few tricks had to be employed along the way.
But most importantly, what went around, came around.
Rao nodded, his fingers continuing their dance of calibration with the precision tool. "Maybe spending too much time doing superhero business is skewing your perspective! You losing that rooftop wisdom you've built up over the years. A while longer and you'll be saying 'please' and 'thank you,' like those fancy HighRise folk."
Fii puffed a lock of white hair out of her face. "Ha. Ha. So funny."
"Anyway, how are you doing, my dear? I take it this isn't a casual visit. Not that I'm complaining, of course. If anything, the surprise is quite welcome." He gave her a sincere smile, his voice taking on a fond tone as he fixed her with his kind, piercing gaze.
Fii scratched the back of her head, feeling a bit embarrassed by the sudden shift in his tone. "Ah, right, that... yeah, I got caught up in some trouble while tagging along with the Zippers the other day. Their run was intercepted mid-zip. Was pretty nasty, so I thought maybe you'd heard some stuff."
"Hm, Zippers, huh? No surprise there, as hard as they push themselves. Surprised you aren't bouncing off the walls right now with that story." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Remind me again, please—who are you?" His lips quirked into a small, amused smile.
A lopsided grin graced her face. "Really, though. This was... different, let's say."
"Then tell me what happened."
For the next few minutes, Fii recounted the hijacking from her perspective—the drones, the attacker, the timing, the precision—and then went into the specifics of Mica's and Luxy's experiences. The more she narrated, the more grim Rao's expression became, which was saying a lot considering his usually carefree demeanor.
"...After I took that fall, my best guess is that Luxy and Mica bailed. Only managed to see Taro briefly after that; he was by himself and things had already settled down, but that's about it," she finished, leaning back against the countertop. She wasn't particularly concerned about knocking anything over—not in this madhouse, at least.
"Well, if you're going to mess around, might as well do it in style." Rao sighed. He folded his arms and shook his head, contemplating her words. "Does Tweak have an opinion?"
"Not yet. I stopped by her place on the way here, but she's pretty caught up in another thing right now." Fii chewed on her bottom lip. "She did seem interested though."
"I'm sure she's buried up to her neck in data or whatever she does. Might take her a bit to pull her head out of the wires." He chuckled lightly. "No harm in trying, at least. You never know with her."
"Yeah, probably, and true."
Rao adjusted his glasses, the frames sitting a bit crooked on the bridge of his nose. There were smudges on the lenses, reflecting his penchant for hands-on work. He hummed to himself, a nonsensical ditty she found oddly charming.
"I'll keep an ear out for any gossip or chatter related to your story. It sounds like there's something fishy going on, and we need to make sure everyone stays safe around here." Rao winked, shifting his attention back to the circuitry in front of him. "For now, just take it easy. It's not every day our superhero falls out of the sky."
"Or takes a nap mid-air, I guess." She groaned, palms covering her eyes, imagining how ridiculous the spectacle must have been. Fii raised a finger. "And no one else hears about it."
"But you know, speaking of easy, how are you holding up?" His voice softened. "Been a while since we sat down and had a good heart-to-heart over some hot broth, hasn't it?"
"It really has... I'd like to do it soon. It's been pretty hectic all around, and life hasn't gotten any simpler or easier. We're still sorta getting things in order. Still trying to figure out a way to rescue Edith," she admitted, absently drumming her fingers on the counter. The dull thud of her fingertips on the wood underscored her words, punctuating the heavier tone that had crept into their conversation.
"You're working too hard." Rao exhaled. "As usual."
Fii nodded. "Yeah, maybe..."
"And I know you're good, kid. But everyone needs to catch a breather once in a while, even the legendary 'Axion.' So, rest up, hmm?"
Rao's gentle voice tugged at her, like a soothing balm for the exhaustion she was carrying. It was a lot easier to face her own struggles in the familiar, musty surroundings of Rao's shop. Surrounded by the hum of electronics and the gentle clink of tools, Fii allowed herself to relax a bit, her guard dropping a fraction.
"Oh, almost forgot to ask. How're things since you've hooked up with Quinn?"
A deep scarlet washed over her face. "Wait, how did you—"
"Not hard to put two and two together." He smirked. "Quinn works for me sometimes, remember? Doesn't take much to pry a little bit out of him, you know."
Fii stared at him, somewhat perplexed, trying to keep her features from betraying the embarrassment welling up inside.
"So... how's he treating you?" Rao asked with a faint grin, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Did he make you cry yet? I told him that if he ever did, I'd personally—" He emphasized his statement by hammering a fist into an open palm, his smile never faltering.
Fii knew he wasn't serious, but her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red at his words.
"Y-you guys had that talk about me?" she sputtered, mortified. This was absolutely not the kind of attention she needed in her life.
"I did a bit more than talk—I basically threatened his balls off. Not that he needs it. You two have been skirting around each other for far too long. Getting you two together was like watching snails mate. Fun fact, snail sex takes anywhere from ten to fifteen hours, depending on their mood."
He shrugged nonchalantly, that little glint in his eye revealing the joy he was getting from watching her squirm.
"W-what? Wh-why?" Fii stammered, heat spreading from her face all the way to the tips of her ears. "That's—that's not—"
"Ahh, don't be shy now," he teased, enjoying her obvious discomfort. "Quinn's a good guy, you know? Heart's in the right place. Bit rough around the edges, but then again, you're not exactly all sunshine and rainbows yourself, are you?"
His grin was wide, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in mirth. He had the look of someone who had clearly won the exchange, and he knew it. "And what's more—he's nuts about you. I've got no doubt he'll treat you well. But just so we're clear, if he does something stupid and gets a smack upside the head, it won't be from you."
Fii buried her face in her hands. "Please stop. It's still... it's all a bit new, and we're still trying to figure this whole thing out..." Her words were muffled, but the embarrassment in her voice was unmistakable.
"Oh?" He tilted his head. "Tell me more. I'm all ears."
"No, no... let's talk about anything else. Work stuff. Market stuff. How are the repairs on your ticker going—"
Rao couldn't contain himself any longer and burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. Just messing with you. You should see your face right now, like a ripened tomato." His chuckle was a deep, throaty rumble, echoing in the cluttered space.
"S-screw you, old man!" Fii shot back, exasperated, but a smile tugged at her lips.