“The first Deputies were created during the Battle of the West, when what was then called Eastern North America fell. There simply wasn’t enough people, enough women to create Proxies and as Manhattan sank beneath the waves, Adit Havrasalam committed his infamous crimes. In doing so, he might have saved the world.“ - extract from the Brave New World, third edition, 2080

The music was booming and the booze was flowing. For all that, Sara wasn’t enjoying herself.

“…and that’s when Luleå fell.”

Andreas was making eyes at one of the new forerunners, whereas Nina’s absence was a thing she felt in like a pit in her heart. Why had she left anyhow?

“Another shot,” she called. The light refracted from the bartender’s chrome arm as he poured the tequila with his other human arm. She eyed it. Two Roman letters in red. Six? Or was it maybe five? That particular make was old, older than its user.

A riddle of sorts. Maybe it was a heirloom. Or a black market purchase. If so, he had probably payed too much for something that would get his Access lowered a step. Trafficking with gear harvested from the Host wasn’t just as a moral offense; it was a hanging one.

But then, who cared. She sure didn’t. They weren’t long for this world anyways.

She threw her head back and downed the shot. “Are you coming, Andreas?!”

She strode out on the dance-floor and spun around.

She grabbed hold of the light with her Implant and began to strobe. Redshift, blue as the Baltic Sea, turning into a white the color of lidless eyes. Her sonics acted up, creating a low bass-drum.

Twin arcs of light followed her hands, spraying, painting the other visitors at the bar. You could tell who was a forerunner - a Deputy - by whether they laughed or their smiles grew stiff. Even that word. Deputy. Only people who weren’t forerunners would use it.

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At one such table, a group of men glared at her with manicured Chiyols and oiled hair.

Indeed. She had fought Mankind’s enemies since before she could put on lipstick. She wasn’t afraid of a couple Fours with airs.

She’d show them-

A hand grabbed hold of hers. “I go away for two months and you start pissing off the regulars at our favourite bar? Shame on you.”

Sara leaned back against that chest, stroking that rough cheek, smiling at the sound of the voice. They lived in a time where they could cure cancer, and yet Nina insisted on keeping the inoculation scars. Like craters on the moon they were, and Sara would not trade them for anything in this world.

“I’ve missed you.” The words came out with ease from Sara’s mouth. They hadn’t always.

She focused her will, and their intertwined forms grew blurry and indistinct, as if seen beneath water. Nina snapped her fingers and silence fell like early dusk.

“How’s Ivan?”

“Same old. New mayor,” Nina responded, leaning into Sara’s hand. Once, the difference in their skin tones would have bothered Sara. Now…now she carried deeper concerns.

“You could have picked any vagrancy you wanted. Why St Petersburg?”

“Less polish.” The words were curt, with an air of repetition. It boggled Sara’s mind. Both of them had survived Second Paris, but each had come to different conclusions.

Nina had gone for assignments in New Delhi, Cairo and Remnant York.

Sara had picked Stockholm, Oslo, Luleå (before the fall) and then Vänern.

Danger and death for one, safety and comfort for the other.

Nina pushed away, twirling her partner in crime and more like a dervish.

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m enjoying the company. No need to say anything,” Sara answered, though those were not the words she wanted to say. Soon a force will be amassed to recover what’s left of Luleå Arcology. For such units they’d need veteran forerunners. Like her. Like Nina.

But she didn’t say anything. Theirs was an old argument, worn and all too often predictable. Neither would relent, and one of them would push the other away. 

An assignment would come at the least opportune moment, and when they met again, they would be strangers.

It had happened before and so this time Sara would try something else. A new approach.

She would-

SCHHHH.

Like a vacuum-cleaner, being started and promptly shut off. And just like that, Andreas stood next to them, grinning. Motherfucker. 

“Hey there Nina-“ the spear of light missed him, striking only ceramacrete floor. In that span, when the ray had passed her lover’s face, Nina’s lips had been pursed.

“..why don’t-“ twin ribbons of light snuck around his body, catching only air. A vein made its way across across Nina’s forehead. Sara could almost hear the rushing blood.

“…come over to my place-“ Nina raised her left palm and pushed. Andreas reappeared midair, smirk never leaving his face, not even as a tactile force launched him into a wall.

“Ha!”

“Stop crowing, Sara. You’re not junior Deputies anymore.”

“Don’t use that word. Also;he started it.”

“And I’m finishing it,” Nina reiterated, looking at Sara with a promise in her eyes. Sara smiled.

“Does this mean that I have been bad? Will you punish me?”

Sara rose through the air, a gnat in the palm of a god. “Will you-“

The last thing Sara saw was Nina’s irritated face erupting.

Later, eyes opening to the sight of a white ceiling, she’d come to realise that they’d put her in the bed next Andreas’. A nurse told her it was a Nina Abrukha, Senior Deputy who had made the order.