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Grandma's House

Wearing their hooded, laser-resistant ponchos, Kanzu, Shinzo, and Sofi navigate a congested melting pot of sapiens crowding the streets.

“This is not like Freeland,” Kanzu says.

Brazin looks up to see a digital Yakuza Protection Force recruitment ad covering one side of a tall building.

“The city’s a mini-nuke ready to detonate,” Sofi mumbles.

“She’s coming,” Shinzo says.

Spectators line opposite sides of a main street as trapanese techno music introduces an armored caravan. Those attempting to cross the street are hit with sonic disruptors, forcing them back with a painful migraine.

Shinzo’s visual display shows him transmitting everything he sees and hears in real-time.

“Looks like Grandma’s got some new toys,” Genji replies to Shinzo via comchat.

Two columns of Grandma’s Militia march past them to repeated chants of, “Grandma!”

Kanzu leans over to Sofi.

“Where did this Grandma come from?” Kanzu quietly asks Sofi.

“No one knows for sure. But they say her husband was a former soldier who recruited the original members. She took over after the Yakuza had him killed. Now their worst fears have become our reality.”

“Her army of Grandkids are fiercely loyal,” Shinzo adds while scanning his surroundings. “Right down to her precious cyber-canines, Rama and Jaka.”

Kanzu’s eyes follow the procession as it continues down the street toward a heavily-guarded domed structure on the side of the river.

“Is that Grandma’s house?” Kanzu asks.

“One of many throughout the ward,” Sofi answers. “Another link to the past severed, glossed over, and eventually repeated.”

The columns of Grandkids stop, turn their backs to each other, and face their respective crowds.

“Scan sweep,” Genji says via comchat.

“Going dark,” Shinzo whispers.

He terminates his comchat link and display transmission with Genji. Kanzu, Shinzo, and Sofi look on as Grandma’s elite personal guards escort the armored caravan past them.

Situated in the middle of the armored caravan, an elongated, multi-colored, heavily-armed hover transport sticks out like a sore thumb. The flashy vehicle has a capital ‘G’ emblazoned on each end and includes concealed weaponry and countermeasures. An aged female cyborg with an electronic necklace grafted into her skin, Grandma smiles and nods to the crowd from an exposed rear seat under a domed force field. The transparent barrier also protects the two robotic canines, one black and the other white, on each side of her. The intimidating cyber-dogs probe the crowd with augmented sight and hearing as their heads bob to the trapanese techno music. Something catches the attention of the black robotic canine on Grandma’s right, prompting it to look in Shinzo’s direction.

Shinzo nonchalantly positions himself in front of Sofi, who positions herself in front of Kanzu.

The black robotic canine grumbles while his white brother continues scanning his side for potential threats.

“What do you see, Jaka?” Grandma asks her cybernetic pet.

Shinzo slowly reaches for his electrokat while Kanzu and Sofi reach for their hidden weapons. Grandma presses a button on her cane, opening an doggy-door-shaped portal in the force field.

“Jaka,” she orders. “Fetch!”

A light on Grandma’s necklace blinks, transmitting her command to the black cyber-canine. It jumps through the portal and jogs into a terrified crowd that parts for it. Shinzo prepares to draw as the black robotic dog veers and leaps onto a Terran spectator a few feet from Kanzu. Kanzu, Shinzo and Sofi blend into the crowd and watch.

The black cyber-canine‘s retinal display transmits a facial recognition bio to Grandma’s console. The digital report outs the Terran spectator as an undercover Yakuza Protection Force officer. Grandma activates a voice amplifier.

“Ya-ku-za!” Grandma screams, pointing to the bloody pile of Terran meat.

The audience jeers as Grandkids cordon off the area. The black robot-dog watches as two militiamen peel off from the caravan and take the Terran spectator into custody. The white cyber-canine growls while staring in another direction.

“Rama,” Grandma orders. “Play!”

The same light on her necklace blinks. The white cyber-canine sprints toward the opposite side of the street, shining a laser-guided beam at a female hybreed spectator attempting to flee. However, an undercover Grandkid tackles and secures the hybreed spectactor before she meets a similar fate. Everyone cheers. The ecstatic undercover Grandkid turns to the white robotic canine growling at him and quickly backs away. The white robo-dog proceeds to chomp off the hybreed spectator’s left leg, then right arm.

“Boys, come!” Grandma commands.

The light on her necklace blinks, and both cyber-canines returns to their master’s side.

“Yakuza,” Grandma shouts. “Once again, the people have spoken!”

The crowd, including Kanzu, Shinzo, and Sofi stands clear of the mauled bystander. The armored caravan continues forward.

A sanitation transport patiently follows the rear of the armored caravan on its way to the bloody corpse. It creeps past Brazin and Ren a few blocks behind and on the opposite side of the street from Kanzu, Shinzo, and Sofi.

“It appears someone was injured,” Brazin says.

“You think?” Ren sarcastically asks.

Brazin turns to Ren as the crowd begins to disperse.

“Those mechanical beasts are very dangerous,” Brazin says.

“Looks like Razor’s a no-show,” Ren says. “We’ll catch the highlights later.”

They vanish into the crowd.

The Plan

Ren’s digital monocular surveys the floating metal, wood, plastic, and skeletal debris littering the waters between him and the coastline. He zooms in on a dense forest just past the rocky shore, then lowers his digital monocular.

Huddled in a patched-up, motorized boat anchored twenty yards from shore, Genji, Ren, and Sofi look as if they engaged in a barroom brawl. Bloodied and bruised, Sofi looks down at the fatally wounded Israeli resting on her lap. The smiling Israeli gazes up at her, but never blinks. Tears spent; Sofi slowly shuts his eyelids with a caressing hand.

Sunlight reveals blood stains, crude weapons, and two paddles strewn about the hull. Ren hands Genji the digital monoculars.

“You sure about this?” Ren asks Genji. “If they’re gone, the new owners might not like company.”

Genji surveys the opposite ends of the shoreline, then returns the monoculars to Ren.

“Best of luck if you wanna keep going,” Genji replies. “But this is my stop.”

Ren and Sofi turn to each other before she looks down again. Genji and Ren stare at each other and then look down at the dead Israeli. Sofi caresses the dead Israeli’s face.

“He deserves a proper burial,” Sofi says, leading Ren and Genji to exchange glances.

An hour later, the trio stand over a freshly covered grave in a wooded area a few dozen yards from shore. A kneeling Sofi places a makeshift marker on top of the grave while Genji and Ren, both wet below the waist, watch. Genji places a hand on Sofi’s shoulder.

“Jake was a good man,” he says.

“A dying breed,” she responds, looking down.

Ren kneels down beside her.

“And one tough bastard,” Ren chimes in.

“Rest in peace, Jakob Bitton,” Sofi sobs.

Armed with crude weaponry, Genji, Ren, and Sofi trek further inland through the dense forest. A gentle breeze whispers among the trees when a sound grabs their attention. Instinctively, the trio press their backs against each other in a defensive position while slowly continuing forward.

“Just passing through,” Genji yells. “We mean no harm!”

“But what if they do?” Sofi whispers.

A shadowy figure drops from the trees and pulls out his electrokatana. The hooded stranger slowly walks toward them.

“You may have been right about this being the last stop,” Ren says.

The hooded stranger stops a few feet away, tilting his head as he studies Genji’s face.

“We don’t have to do this,” Genji pleads. “We’re looking for a friend-”

“Gen-ji?” the hooded stranger says in a familiar, yet robotic male inflection. “Gen-ji Shi-mada?”

Genji lowers his guard. Ren and Sofi follow suit.

“Seems you’ve got a fan base,” Ren says.

Genji alone walks up to the hooded stranger, who deactivates and sheathes his electokat, then removes his hood.

Lying in bed, Genji wakes to see Shinzo staring down at him.

“Still dreaming about me?” Shinzo jokes.

Genji sits up on the floor and spots Kanzu and Brazin observing him from the dining table.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Genji replies.

“That wasn’t a denial,” Shinzo counters.

“I hope you were more productive during my nap,” Genji deduces.

“I believe I have a plan,” Shinzo confirms with a nod.

Genji and Shinzo join Kanzu and Brazin sitting at the dining table. The bedroom door slides open and Sofi exits, heading for the bathroom.

“Happy morning,” Kanzu greets.

“Good,” Sofi responds. “In the light.”

Sofi enters the bathroom and shuts the door. Everyone’s attention turns back to the bedroom, where a naked Ren sits up in bed.

“Good morning, Ren,” Brazin says with a smile.

Ren shares two middle fingers and then slides the bedroom door shut. Kanzu and Brazin turn to each other. Brazin flashes Kanzu his two middle fingers at Kanzu, who returns the gesture.

“I wouldn’t do that in public if I were you,” Genji chuckles, turning to Shinzo. “So, what’s the plan?”

Shinzo presses a button on the dining table that activates a holographic aerial of a large city bloc about two miles from their location.

“According to the city’s chatlink, this bloc’s a favorite among non-Terrans.”

“You think Gunta is there?” Kanzu asks.

“A high probability,” Shinzo replies. “Though, no guarantee.”

Sofi exits the bathroom and walks over to the dining table as Shinzo tosses her a protein bar. She catches it with ease.

“Let me guess,” Sofi says. “I’m holding down the fort. Again.”

“Correct,” Shinzo replies.

Shinzo turns his attention back to the holographic aerial while a fully clothed Ren exits the bedroom and heads to the bathroom.

“Ren, Kanzu, and I will work these north-south streets. Genji and Brazin will take these east-west one. I suggest rendezvous points here, here, here, and here.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“I’m sure lover boy can afford a professional tracker,” Ren whispers to Sofi.

“Tracker went dark after a week,” Sofi responds.

“Great,” Ren says. “I feel much better about this plan now.”

“Yak favorability is on the decline,” Genji says. “They can’t afford to take another big PR hit right now.”

“Hence our plausible deniability,” Ren responds.

For the next hour, everyone dresses, checks gear, and packs their x-saks. Kanzu secures her x-sak and heads for the bathroom.

“I have to relieve myself,” she says.

“But you still don’t have to tell us,” Ren responds.

He looks over to see Brazin staring at his x-sak.

“Terra to Brazin,” Ren says. “You good?”

Brazin turns to see everyone staring at him and smiles.

“Apologies,” he says.

“That feeling you have is normal,” Sofi says.

“Not for me,” Brazin replies.

“You’ll get used to it,” Sofi says.

“With all due respect,” Brazin replies, “I prefer not to.”

Brazin secures his x-sak and walks over to the bathroom, waiting by the door. After a toilet flush and a quick rinse, Kanzu opens it and sees him standing there.

“I have to share something,” Brazin whispers.

“Share.”

“Gunta may have gone into that ship, but from the recordings I’ve seen, it appears Razor was the lone survivor.”

“Grats,” Kanzu says, brushing past him.

She walks toward the sofa and grabs her x-sak.

Sofi walks up to Brazin.

“Great pep talk before the big game,” she says.

“We were discussing Gunta,” Brazin replies. “I don’t know anyone called Pep.”

Brazin enters the bathroom and shuts the door.

A few hours later, Kanzu and Shinzo weave through a seemingly endless flow of pedestrians. Awestruck by the amount of hominoids and hybreeds sprinkled into the general population, Kanzu’s head swivels like a child in a sweet shop. She spots a six-armed hominoid teen playing two musical instruments across the street while pedestrians tip the sapien entertainer remotely.

“He’s a talent,” Shinzo says.

Kanzu and Shinzo continue walking.

“He’ll be lucky to survive another revolution.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’ve seen it happen. The more limbs we get, the less time we have.”

“Doesn’t sound like a fair trade,” Shinzo says.

A hybreed couple passes by. Kanzu smiles, but they ignore her.

“Brazin says the ones in his play zones were much friendlier,” Kanzu pouts.

“Better a pet than a meal, I suppose,” Shinzo responds.

“At least the archaics accept your kind.”

“Archaics rarely accept any kind outside of their tribe. That’s why we’re here.”

“Genji says your procreator made you?” she inquires.

“My creator. Prior to the original model’s expiration, most of his data was transferred to me.”

Shinzo points to his temple.

“Does that make you archaic?”

“According to my limited knowledge of your kind, only carbon-based Terrans qualify as archaic.”

“Then you are the same person?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do all mechs share archaic memories?”

“Not all.”

“This is so confusing,” Kanzu says.

“Tell me about it,” Shinzo responds.

They enter a nearly empty tavern. Shinzo spots a robotic bartender chatting with a regular. Kanzu spots Ren, who nods at her from a back corner booth. Ren sits alone with three beverages on the table. Kanzu and Shinzo walk over to Ren’s booth. Kanzu sits beside the smaller Ren while Shinzo sits across from them. The three touch cups, but only Kanzu and Ren drink. Shinzo just stares at his beverage.

“We were unsuccessful,” Kanzu admits.

“I can see that,” Ren replies, then downs his drink.

“Maybe the others will have better fortune,” she says.

Ren trades his empty cup for Shinzo’s full one, then takes a sip.

“This bartender sure knows how to pour,” Ren says.

Unfazed, Kanzu and Shinzo exchange glances before turning their attention back to Ren, whose smile evaporates. Kanzu finishes her drink.

“I’ve tasted much stronger in Freeland,” she says.

“Can you tell us anything else that might help us find Razor-”

“Gunta,” she interjects.

“Gunta,” Ren says. “Any hobbies?”

“He loves to fight. Perhaps we can go to this Outlet place?”

Shinzo and Ren laugh.

“Perhaps this beverage is strong for you,” Ren replies.

“I’ve had much stronger in Freeland.”

“He means the Outlet is heavily guarded,” Shinzo says.

Ren leans over to Shinzo.

“Between security and the hunters, you’d have to be connected or crazy to attempt a break in.

“Agreed,” a smiling Kanzu replies.

Kanzu and Shinzo exchange glances. Shinzo nods.

“It’s more probable that our current options,” Shinzo responds.

Ren slouches back in his seat and calls over to the robotic bartender.

“Can I get a double this time?” Ren asks.

Barker's

Sitting in an elevated magtrail car, Dae stares out at the congested city landscape as a hazy reddish sun sets on the western horizon. Yakuza Protection Force propaganda ads feature product placements and corporate sponsorships on all of the window displays. Reports of the YPF’s progress against Grandma and her Grandkids are met with snickers and groans. Covered in graffiti, the magrail pulls into a transport stop. Dae and a few others exit the car which quickly fills up again before heading to the next station.

Dae takes the stairs to ground level and continues down a crowded street, making sure to stay on the sidewalk. Warning sirens and disruptor canons force the pedestrians to part for the emergency transports barreling down the street. Unfortunately, more than a few unlucky pedestrians in their path become collateral damage. Unfazed, Dae cuts through an alley when two sapiens block his path.

“Toll,” one of the sapiens explains.

“I’ll take the scenic route,” Dae replies as he slowly backs up.

“That’ll cost you more,” a voice behind him counters.

Dae turns perpendicular to the men so he can see the third sapien with a robot companion blocking his escape.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Dae says.

“Neither do we,” the first sapien replies.

The four muggers close in on Dae.

“Everything you got,” the second sapien says.

“C’mon,” Dae says, slowly caressing his jacket. “Man’s gotta eat.”

“Man’s gotta breathe,” the robot mugger retorts.

Dae presses a hidden button on his jacket, firing tiny projectiles from his shoulders and into each mugger’s head. The three sapien muggers misfire as they hit the ground. The robot mugger also manages to get a shot off before collapsing. Dae hits the ground. After a few seconds, he sits up in a cloud of smoke and looks around to see four dead bodies. The smoke dissipates, revealing a grazed laser burn on his neck. He taps the implant on the opposite side of his neck, activating his comchat.

“Clean up, Alley Four Nine Six,” Dae says. “Transmitting pin.”

“Pin received,” a voice replies via comchat. “Janitors en route.”

Dae stands, dusts himself off, and continues down the alley toward his destination. He turns the corner and walks down a street, passing numerous digital ads so bright, they turn night into day. He walks past the long queue at Barker’s Lounge and stops at the hybreed bouncer guarding the private alley a few yards down. The hybreed bouncer grants Dae access into the private alley without a second thought. Dae walks down to another bouncer, who lets him through a side VIP entrance into Barker’s.

It’s a packed house inside. The live band plays soft, electronic renditions of hardcore, twenty-first-century Southeast Asian tunes. Dae makes eye contact with a Terran bartender, who presses a hidden button under the bar counter. The Terran bartender slides Dae a cold brew over the counter. Dae grabs the drink and heads toward the back, ignoring the two uniformed YPF officers drinking in a booth with two escorts, one sapien and one robotic. He arrives at the back, where another bouncer escorts him to a private lift down to the basement. The private lift opens, and they walk down a long corridor as musical bass fills the air. They approach a guarded door that slides open, revealing a plush speakeasy.

This exclusive enclave provides the city’s elite with just enough space to stretch elbows. Space like that’s hard to come by this time around. The escort bouncer bows and heads back to the private lift. Walking through the speakeasy, Dae spies the well-heeled organic and synthetic patrons eye-fucking him like a Xeno. However, they quickly look away the moment Dae sit in a private back booth. Across from him sits a male Japanese cyborg covered in a combination of ink and laser Yakuza tattoos etched onto both skin and metal. The cyber-teen pigs himself on two entrées like a mammal begging for extinction. Dae, on the other hand, sits and stares at the maggots swimming around in the large bowl of yellow mush between them.

“Work on the street’s you ran into a little trouble down the street?” the cyber-teen says.

Dae touches the laser burn on his neck.

“Word travels fast,” Dae replies.

“As long as you’re okay.”

“You should see the other guys.”

“I did,” the cyber-teen says, pointing to the table. “Help yourself.”

“I had a quick bite on the way over,” Dae replies.

The cyber-teen belches, then grabs a cup filled with a thick dark sludge. He sips as yellow mush dribbles from the corner of his mouth. Dae looks around to see the upscale crowd completely ignoring them.

“So, hear about that boat war where the minisub I recently purchased was scuttled along with its crew?” the cyber-teen asks.

A light shines from one of the cyber-teen’s eyes. It projects an underwater video clip of a flash of light speeding toward the enemy minisub before the clip abruptly ends. The cyber-teen rewinds the video clip and lightens the background to reveal a minisub mid-hydrospeed.

“Nice sub,” Dae says.

“That’s not a nice sub,” the cyber-teen responds. “That’s a fucking nice sub. You holding out on me?”

“What are you talking about? Do I look like an engineer?”

“You look like my ass!” the cyber-teen screens, slamming the table.

Still, the wealthy patrons ignore them.

“I want that tech and its maker intact.”

“Sir, there’s pirates all over those waters. Not to mention Grandkids. I’ll need a unit.”

The projection ends as a server delivers two beverages to the table.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t, or won’t?”

“We’re stretched a little thin right now. Which means I can’t organize another old fishing expedition. I need a location.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dae responds.

The cyber-teen grabs the large bowl of swimming maggots, pours them into his mouths, and washes them down with a sip of dark sludge from his cup. Dae uses every ounce of self-control to keep from projectile vomiting.

“Priority one, Dae.”

Wiping yellow mush from his mouth, the cyber-teen grabs his cup of dark sludge and hoists it in the air.

“Of course, sir.”

Dae looks down and grabs his cup of dark sludge. After the slightest of hesitation, he raises the cup and touches it with the cyber-teen’s cup. Under the cyber-teen’s watchful bionic eye, Dae closes his eyes and takes a small sip of dark sludge. The cyber-teen finishes his cup in one gulp. Dae grabs the large, half-eaten bowl of yellow mush and yaks in it.

“What a waste,” the cyber-teen says before bursting into laughter.

Dae grabs a few napkins to clean himself off while everyone else in the speakeasy bursts into laughter.

The Outlet

Genji, Shinzo, and Sofi enter their safe house, delivering packed food containers to the dining table while Kanzu, Brazin, and Ren watch a promotional highlight video for previous “The Outlet” competitions.

“The Outlet: where hunter and hunted are one,” an announcer reads. “Message us…if you’ve got the balls!”

Kanzu points at the display.

“Stop it there!” Kanzu orders. “Please, go back.”

Ren rewinds the video. He freezes on a split-second frame of two competing fighters’ profile. “Razor” appears beside Gunta’s profile. Kanzu tears up at the sight of her brother. The quick action clips show Razor, a.k.a Gunta, knocking the teeth out of one competitor, shooting another in the head, and snapping a third’s neck like a twig. A final shot shows Gunta thrusting his arms in the air before cutting to other fighters, including the current champion hunter, a female cyborg hybreed known as Bonzai.

“Your brothers one bad dude,” Sofi says.

“Better than your girl Bonzai?” Ren asks Genji.

Genji looks over at Kanzu and answers, “No comment.”

Kanzu stares at the screen. Brazin grabs one of her long hands with his. They exchange smiles then turn their attention back to the display. The video now features Bonzai with short white hair, a chiseled body with alien circuitry, and her trademark e-nuks protruding from her tactical gloves.

“I’d love to see-” Ren says as Genji glares at Ren. “I mean good thing hunters don’t fight each other. I’d hate to see that.”

Kanzu smiles.

“Hunters don’t fight each other?” Kanzu asks.

“Few have the talent for killing and entertainment,” Genji explains. “So, they tend to have more job security than their prey.”

“How often do their prey escape?” Brazin inquires.

“Almost as often as they die,” Ren answers.

“In other words, not that often,” Shinzo says.

“That is fortunate for Gunta,” Kanzu says.

“And not so fortunate for his playmates,” Ren answers.

Brazin chuckles and says, “You mean prey.”

Kanzu stands and paces.

“Where’s this Outlet place?”

“Easy, Kanzu,” Genji says.

“I disagree. But I still believe we need to get in there before his next show.”

Genji responds, “Well, unless you’ve got schematics in your sack-”

Shinzo remotely activates a holographic layout of The Outlet Arena and its exterior.

“How the hell did you get that?” Ren asks.

“From watching thousands of hours of ads and interviews, along with downloading multiple terabytes of Public Works data, and a thorough review of the last fight day program.”

“Well, with the rest of our gear stuck in Minnie’s uterus, we’re gonna need a few more toys for this job,” Ren says.

“Soaf?” Genji asks.

“On it,” Sofi responds as she gets up and grabs her coat.

“You’re not shopping alone,” Ren says.

“How many dick-measuring contests do you have to lose?” Sofi asks.

“He’s right, Soaf,” Genji says.

“Thank you,” Ren responds.

“But I need you here while I’m gone.”

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To scope out The Outlet.”

“Alone?” Ren asks.

“With me,” Kanzu answers.

“And I’ll accompany Sofi,” Brazin says.

“Shin, will you talk some sense into these guys?” Ren implores.

“Planning consumes a lot of power,” Shinzo says. “I’ll need to remain charged for the next few hours. Time which we cannot spare sitting hoping to run into Gunta.”

Sofi turns to Brazin.

“Ready, Romeo?” Sofi asks.

“Did you forget I am Brazin?”

Sofi smiles.

“C’mon,” she says.

Smiling, Kanzu nods and grabs her hooded poncho and exits with Genji, Brazin, and Sofi. Ren plops down on the sofa and activates a movie on the display. Shinzo plugs himself into the wall and gleans data from the public network for materials needed to repair a minisub.

“These people are cray-cray,” Ren says to himself.

Hell Kitty, Kitty

Moonlight barely penetrates the hazy evening sky in a wooded area overlooking The Outlet. Kanzu and Genji’s laser-resistant ponchos offer sufficient camouflage under the circumstances. She observes the massive structure with Ren’s digital monoculars. He records the data on a wafer-thin e-pad.

“Where’s your clan, Genji?” she asks.

“You asking me now?”

“Yes,” with a straight face.

Genji shrugs and says, “Well, my sister was visiting a place once called Germany when your masters arrived-

“You were separated?” Kanzu interjects.

Genji nods and says, “My procreators were killed in the Battle of Tokyo-”

“Apologies,” Kanzu interjects.

“Grats,” Genji responds, “And the last time I saw my mate and offspring, they were waiting to become something else the name of science.”

“Oh.”

“And I broke a promise I should’ve kept,” he says before catching himself. “Apologies.”

“I’m not offended,” Kanzu responds.

She glances at Genji’s neck implant.

“Grandma ever attend these events?” Kanzu asks.

Genji studies the LED ads placed around the walls of the guarded compound reminiscent of a film production lot.

“Too risky.”

They record the Outlet workers assembling an outdoor stage near the main entrance.

“When was that made?” she asks.

“I wasn’t born yet.”

“Born?”

“Conceived.”

“Ah. A very long time.”

“Not that long.”

Kanzu points at Genji.

“I deceive,” she says.

“You’re very good at it.”

Kanzu frowns. Genji contemplates his next words carefully.

“Nice try,” Genji says, pointing at her.

Kanzu smiles and nods.

“Brazin thinks my brother’s expired in the crash and was replaced by this Razor hunter.”

“He’s not entirely wrong,” Genji replies.

“So, you agree?” she asks.

“Well, he’s not entirely right, either.”

“So, you disagree?”

“Not necessarily.”

Kanzu shakes her head.

“You archaics are so confusing.”

“Tell me about it,” he replies.

Genji smiles and retrieves a small canteen. He takes a few sips from it then hands it to Kanzu. She takes a few sips and hands the canteen back. Genji looks up at the hazy night sky.

“I recall stories of skies as blue as water on this planet. But I’ve never seen it. Have you?”

“Now that was a very long time,” he answers.

Kanzu turns her attention back toward The Outlet.

“It seems longer without Raym.”

“I wish I met her,” he responds. “But, you still have Brazy.”

Kanzu nods.

“Am we fools for embarking on this quest?”

“Not necessarily.”

Kanzu and Genji smile when they hear a cat meow. They spot two devilishly yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. The dark feline steps forward into view.

Kanzu smiles.

“Greetings, beautiful one.”

Genji quickly packs up.

“That ain’t beautiful,” Genji responds. That’s a hellcat.”

“Hell-”

“We go,” Genji whispers. “Now.”

More meows and more yellow eyes appear in the shadows. Genji and Kanzu jog down the backside of a hill and away from The Outlet. Kanzu looks back at the hellcats in pursuit and trips into Genji, sending them both tumbling down the hill. They both lay at the bottom. Kanzu wipes away a little blood from the small cut on her chin.

“Are you injured?” Kanzu asks.

Genji sits up.

“Just my pride,” he answers. “For now.”

Hissing with sharp teeth exposed, the feline army creeps toward them when half of them are vaporized by a pest drone. The remaining killer felines scatter back into the darkness while the pest drone pursues them. Kanzu helps Genji up.

“Most fortunate,” Kanzu says.

A security drone appears and scans them.

“Hold for identification,” the security drone repeatedly orders as it scans Genji. “Identification authenticated. Please be safe.”

The drone turns and scans Kanzu. However, this time, the scan detects the small on her chin, triggering an alert. The drone instantly fires a stun charge at Kanzu, who falls to the ground. Genji shoots and hits the drone which descends into the wooded area. He tends to Kanzu.

“Kanzu? Kanzu, wake up. We gotta g-”

Stunned by the damaged pest drone, Genji falls beside Kanzu and passes out...again.