I’m not quite sure what I’d been expecting to find on the other side of the door. A circle of hungrily waiting Icy lookalikes maybe? All waiting to poke fun at me for how I handled the psycho attack they’d gotten to watch. Or perhaps a grungy pit surrounded by debris and a fight that never quite stops? Either way, the rather old-fashioned looking common room with its mood lighting and inoffensively faint music is somewhat jarring after the poorly disguised abattoir I’ve just walked out of.

  Directly opposite me is another, far more traditional looking, bar made of what might actually be real wood. A woman who could be the male barkeeps sister standing behind it as she cleans a glass in a way that looks well practiced. Pool tables, slot machines and similar are spread out between the synth-leather couches and small round tables that are fused with the checkerboard painted concrete under my feet. Longer couches or semi-private booths pressed up against the walls of what must be the entirety of the buildings ground floor.

  I’m just wondering how they’ve made such a large open space without needing any pillars to support the ceiling when a polite cough from behind has me startling out of the doorway. The muscled barkeep smiling apologetically as he brushes past me and then heads to the left without a second look. Quickly turning the corner of the red concrete block that I’m now standing in front of and disappearing from sight. Presumably, that’s where the stairs are.

  I forget all about the building layout and the still nameless man on spotting a group in one of the booths against the far wall. A pair of mismatched men, one tall and fidgety the other short and sickly looking, are leaned over a table as the taller one speaks rapidly with a figure I recognise well.

  I hold back my first instinct to march over and slam Icy’s head into the table while he’s distracted. His legs just visible where he’s lounging sideways across the half of the booth he’s claimed. I can’t see much besides his boots sticking out from the side but, from the taller man’s increasing agitation, I’d guess he’s not very interested in what is being said. Perhaps, like me, he’s trying to figure out if the shorter one actually has green skin or if the colour is the result of something else. Only his lower face visible where he’s hunched over in his seat and clinging onto the edge of the table.

  I look away before any of the three can notice my growing glare. Jaw clicking as I force it apart and remind myself not to break the agreement I’ve only just signed up to. Glancing around the rest of the common room in an effort to distract myself and quickly spotting a handful more masked faces. Most in groups of two or three and either keeping to themselves or discussing quietly with other groups seated across a table from them.

  A good example being not too far from me where sits a shirtless man with a centurion’s half-visored helmet and crimson plume. His sheer size having me do a double take before something in the colour and shape of his tattoo’s tickles at my memory. My eyes narrowing as I watch the bronze skinned behemoth lounge in his oversized chair. Puffing on a cigar as thick as my wrist while the other hand slowly plays a cred-chip back and forth over his fingers. The shift of his arms revealing a chemical burn scar across the back of each hand and so letting me make the final connection needed to figure out why I recognise him.

  ‘Holy shit, that’s Collateral.’

  I can’t help but stare at the highly wanted villain, comparing his current docility to the vids of him tearing down buildings and brawling with heroes. A small bit of disappointment slipping past the shock as I realise that he doesn’t seem quite so big in person. Although, that might have something to do with having just come from seeing the alabaster psycho outside. I can’t imagine any human, even a supe, could survive being larger than that hulking abomination.

  His smaller size doesn’t make him any less intimidating though as he breathes out a stream of smoke into the steel faces of the three men opposite. Their own poncho covered, and far more reasonably sized, body’s a stark opposite to his. Much of the curve of muscle and joint replaced with the sharp angles of steel plate. The middle one not even needing a mask given the front of his face is just a smooth plane of black steel and softly glowing lenses. None of them so much as twitch at the smoke curling around them. Ignoring it entirely as the middle one pulls a secure looking briefcase from the floor to place on the table between them. My head snapping towards it when I notice the ACME symbol branded proudly on its side.

  Some shift in Collateral’s posture has me looking back to him just in time to be pinned in place by his stare. The shining helmet pointed towards me as he sucks down hard on the cigar to make it’s end flare bright. My heart lurching as I duck away on instinct, rushing towards the bar like as some primal instinct insists a predator has found me. Any thoughts of him seeming smaller than I’d thought forgotten before the memory of what I’ve seen him do.

  I get most of the across the open space before even thinking to glance back. Worried he might have gotten up to follow and left feeling slightly ridiculous when I see he’s already looked away. My feet slowing to a more reasonable pace as I remember where and who I am and so it’s with faintly heated cheeks that I walk the rest of the way to the bar. Hopeful that no one noticed my poor entrance but, from the slight wince on the bartender’s face, knowing I’m just lucky no one laughed.

  My self-confidence isn’t helped when I have to climb to get up on to one of the stools before the bar. My attention too focused on walking without looking worried to notice how they are too high for my feet to touch the ground until I’m already trying to get comfortable on the red Pleather. At least my toes can just about reach the rung halfway up its side and so save me from looking too much like a kid trying to fit onto her father’s chair. No swinging feet for me.

  “Been a while since I saw someone come in here alone. I’m Lacy. Waiting for someone or just here for a quick drink?” The bartender, Lacy, puts down her clean glass and cloth as she walks over to me. Our eyes almost equal thanks to the stool I’m sitting on despite her above average height. Her clothes are a match to the man who greeted me, dress shirt and suspenders over black professional looking slacks. I’d be surprises to find out they’re not related and even more so if Lacy proves to be the older of the pair. Unless, of course, their impressive musculature does turn out to be the result of bio-sculpting. Then they could be anywhere from fifteen to fifty and I’d have no idea.

  “No, it’s the other way round. What non-alcoholic stuff do you have?” I make an effort to keep my back straight as I answer, both for my appearance and for the reminder my ribs are giving me about moving too quickly. The effort of doing so, along with the itching in my back from having so many people behind me, is already making me regret approaching the bar though. Some part of me wishing that I’d just found a nice wall booth to hunker down in. I push that thought away as I answer, taking a moment to remind myself of why I’d decided not to that back in the guest room. Having access to the ‘Hearts contacts is useful but it’s pretty unlikely I can do any of the jobs offered alone.

  “We can do soda, tea, a few specialty drinks at request but… you know this is a villain pub right? No drinking age in here.” Lacy grabs another glass as she asks, not waiting for an answer before she starts to fill it with a few different bottles to make something red and frothy. The sharp scent of cherries having my gums ache and lips grow dry even from a few feet away.

  “Here, on the house. An apology you won’t get from my brother. For that shit outside. Sorry about that.” I almost fumble the drink as she half slides it to me with a smile. The warmth of her brown eyes and youthful face a contrast with the heavily muscled arms she shares with her brother.

  “Thanks, is tha- uhh.” I start to bring the drink up to my mouth, a sharp comment over the bouncer half free of my lips, before remembering that my mask covers my mouth. I hold it awkwardly a moment before an even more awkward cough has me looking up to where the other girl is holding out a straw with an exaggerated wince.

  “My bad, I’m still a little new to all this.” I take the offered piece of plastic with a nod of thanks. Then having to spend a few seconds manoeuvring it so as not to accidentally pull up too much of my mask. It’s only a few seconds of struggle but I decide immediately that any future mask is going to need an easier way to get to my mouth.

  ‘A half visor feels like it would show too much of my face though. Maybe something modular? But then that would have an obvious weakness’

  The drink is worth the struggle at least. The taste of fruit rushing into my mouth with a sharpness I don’t associate with the artificial flavourings of soda or candy. The strength of it having me pull back wide-eyed as I feel my cheeks pucker and throat itch at the burning after taste. Probably the alcohol she mentioned.

  “Is this real fruit?”

  “Yep.” Lacy pops the p as she reaches below the bar to scoop out a block of ice and a short blade from some freezer I can’t see. Her smile as sharp as the drink I’m now worried about being asked to pay for. I have a cred stick on me but something like this would likely make a real dent in what little I’ve been able to scrounge. The sharpness of the cherries and burning of strong alcohol is making it a struggle not to cough though as I place the thing back on the bar top. Doing my best not to seem like I’m spitting on the free drink while wondering if I can ask for something else.

  “You can’t get that tartness with flavourings. Not outside the real good kinds of Virch anyway. I can get you something else if you want? You just looked like a girl who’d appreciate something with a bit of edge.” Lacy cuts down onto her ice block with a wink as she finishes speaking. The crunch of ice as she shears away the frosted sides drawing my attention and covering the little cough I can’t avoid making. If the burn in my throat is alcohol, then I really can’t understand why anyone would drink this stuff.

  “Yes, it’s perfect.” I hold in a wince of expectant pain as I take another, longer, sip. I really would prefer something sweeter but the too high chair is already making me feel enough like a kid. No need to make it worse by asking for something with less ‘edge’. The vodka’s burn isn’t nearly as bad this time at least. Although, the cherries are still far too sharp for my liking and have fighting to stop another cough.

  A beat of silence falls between us as I get more comfortable on the stool and risk swivelling slightly to get another look at the room now that I’m behind Collateral. Unfortunately, none of the other groups look like they’re open to having someone wander over for a chat either. I’d thought everyone was politely ignoring each other at first but, now that I’m able to see a little more, it’s pretty obvious that a few groups are unhappy to see each other. A few individuals even outright staring each other down across the tasteful pleather seating that separates them. Bizarrely, seeing the various villains all clearly wanting to start something but still keeping to themselves makes me feel a lot safer about this whole situation.

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t mention it to my brother. He’s a real cred counter.”

  “It’s that pricey?” I ask after a moment more of examining a bald man in a white suit and blank ovoid mask on the far side of the room. Swivelling back around while making myself take another sip of the drink to hide how I’d been staring after he turns towards me. Watching as Lacy squeezes an actual lime into a short glass filled with a tiny amount of light amber liquid. Its rim decorated with salt somehow stuck to the inside.

  “Yeah, some of the ingredients are from out of the city. All on the house though so don’t worry about it.”

  I can let myself smile in thanks as I watch her add the now perfectly clear cube of ice to the drink. The tiny amount of liquid inside pushed up to the brim by the much greater volume of frozen water. Watching the cube as it starts to quickly melt almost distracts me enough from my own drink to actually believe that the next sip isn’t as sharp.

  “Course, the straws gonna run you a hundred creds.”

  I snort the cherry flavoured acid through my nose and get caught in a coughing fit that has me spilling fruity alcohol into the inside of my mask. The glass clinking loudly as I set it back down on the bar with only slightly less force than is needed to shatter it. One hand pounding against my chest as I struggle to breath while looking up in a panic to where Lacy is poorly hiding her smile.

  “Sorry, sorry! It was just too perfect a moment. Here, another apology.” I keep banging on my chest as I take the napkin she’s offering and ignore the new drink for now. Dabbing at my mask to try and get out the worst of the stickiness before giving up and grabbing the rest of the napkins off the counter. The only somewhat resistant synth-wool was already struggling given I walked here through a storm after going for half a swim but water is a lot easier to ignore than fruit juice. At least the pub’s low humidity should dry it out again quickly enough.

  I swap the wad of wet napkins for the rag Lacy offers me while ignoring her second apology. The absorbent material doing a quick job of removing the worst of the mess before I throw it back with a frown. Reminded too much of Claire to be actually mad at her but too embarrassed by my reaction to admit it. Not when a hundred creds should be pocket change to anyone with real money. I take the new drink as I swivel back around, sliding the straw under my mask as an excuse to not answer.

  Instead, I go back to looking around the room with more subtly than before. Trying to guess who might be willing to talk to me and who should be avoided. No one looks particularly welcoming but at least my brief coughing fit doesn’t look to have drawn any attention.

  “When you said it was other way around earlier; I hope you didn’t mean that you’re looking to try and make friends here.”

  “Why’s that?” I take a cautious sip of the oddly warm drink as I ask. Not turning around as the rich taste of maple syrup sweeps away the cherries lingering sharpness and has me wanting to slurp down more. Only the reminder that it’s likley highly alcoholic, and that I’ve already had more than I should, stopping me from doing so.

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  “Well, people aren’t likely to trust someone just because they sat next to them at a bar. Not in this business, at least. Trust is mostly built on jobs, referrals or through joining a gang. You looking to get an in with one of the Extranei? I saw you eyeing up Collateral earlier, not that I blame you girl, I can probably swing something there.”

  “No! I’m not joining a gang!”

  She raises her hands placatingly as I spin back around with a hiss. Pulling my eyes away from where they’d wandered back to the rolling wave of the giant’s shoulders as she’d spoken. It looked like whatever deal the heavy hitter is here to do is winding down. The briefcase now held like a toy in his hands as he sits forward to inspect whatever’s inside. The thought of interrupting him, and even talking to him, setting my heart to pounding hard enough to make me grip my ribs in pain.

  “Well… that’s the easiest way to do this you know? Next best would be some contract work. My brother always say’s there’s no better way to make connections than with good work done well.”

  She half turns away from me at that. Picking up the cherry drink I’d abandoned and tipping it out into a sink before grabbing a new cloth to start cleaning. The silence now somewhat awkward as let the conversation lapse and Lacy focuses on cleaning up the mess I’d made. My eyes avoiding hers as I tap my fingers along my new glasses salty rim.

  “I just… don’t really want to get caught up in factional stuff. I just want to make my money and go.”

  “Yeah, I hear that. Best thing about working here is being left alone. Hey, let me make up for earlier. You interested in a job rec’? it’s the one I’d do if I were you.”

  “What kind of job?” I finally look up from my glass to meet Lacy’s smiling eyes. The question making me feel both extremely nervous and incredibly professional when I get a chance to reply with the classic line. It’s probably not a casino heist in a halfway space or retrieving a kaiju egg but just getting to act like a vid star for a moment is already something special.

  “It’s a small thing we’ve had sitting on the books for a while now. For an out of city Corp called Pentex so you don’t need to worry about making enemies of anyone around here. I can pull up the deets onto a tablet I’ve got back here… somewhere…”

  Lacy ducks down under the bar as my face lightly burns beneath the mask. My shoulders itching but grin matching her own after the corny lines. I haven’t heard anyone say ‘deets’ in real life before.

  “Ah-ha! Here it is. You’d be playing support for their in-house team of ‘borgs. They want to get a look at some kaiju’s leftovers and need some Supes to handle the dimensional funkiness. Doesn’t look too bad and should let you meet a few people given they’re hirign others as well but, here, you have a read over the info and-”

  “Hah, she actually was a villain? Fukin’ hilarious.” I stiffen up at the sound of Icy’s voice just behind me. Holding myself still as I try not to react to the taller villain leaning onto the bar just next to me. A full body flinch leaving me with fingers wrapped around an axe up my sleeve and a burning desire to use it. My attempts at self-control making me too slow in reacting to stop him as he snatches the tablet out of Lacy’s hands when she goes to offer it to me.

  “Pentex? You still accepting these assholes creds?” A look of disgust twists Icy’s face as they step back and out of easy reach. Leaning up against the bar and finally giving me a good look at their face and costume. I’d been wrong before, he’s not wearing a screen as a helmet; rather, everything above his nose has been replaced with a solid bar of black. A monitor not currently showing anything but a semi-reflective surface that lets me see how shit my own mask looks in comparison.

  My death glare staring back at me through the pink of my visor as I watch Icy swipe through the job I’d been about to look at. A messy mop of bushy platinum blonde hair falling across the screen of their face as his lips twist in disgust. The pale skin of his cheeks sloping unblemished down his face before disappearing under a tightly fitted bodysuit that I can’t believe isn’t sprayed on. The oddly spongy looking material not reflecting the light quite right as I struggle to focus on its colour and details. Not able to make out whether it’s actually black or a blend of many dark but different shades yet still quite certain that it doesn’t have any seams or straps. Also, even from the front, I can tell this guy definitely has a better ass than me.

  ‘Just another reason to hate it.’

  The sound of the glass cracking in my grip is covered by a thump as Icy throws the tablet back onto the bar with a scoff. Continuing to ignore me as they look down to tighten the looped belts hugging their waist. The lazy X hugging them tightly and weighed down with short blades, long capsules and an odd-looking revolver tucked into bandoliers across his side. The reminder of how heavily armed the undoubtedly more experienced villain is doing a good job of cooling my instinctive response to being so wholly dismissed. Especially by someone who was just betting on my death.

  Lacy might make me pay for the glass as it is. No reason to make it a certainty by glassing this asshole.

  “They pay as well as anyone else, Icy. And not everyone cares about factional stuff.” Lazy rolls her eyes as she answers him. Looking to me with a smirk that I’d happily join in with were I not trying to keep my mouth shut for fear of starting a fight. Icy sneers with the entirety of their top lip in reply, treating me to a good luck at the sharpened teeth filling their mouth.

  “Sure, they pay. When they’re not vivisecting supes to try and figure out how we work or fucking with condemned zones. There’s a reason these fuckers are so big and still not allowed a spot in Throne.” He finishes his checks of the belts on his helps as he talks. Still not looking at me as he finishes by making sure that the stiletto on his left can be drawn with only the slightest bit of pressure.

  “Icy, why do you even come here if you’re just going to get political over everything. Most people just want to make a living, you know.” Lacy seems more exasperated than angry as she picks up the tablet and checks it isn’t broken after the powered throw. Frowning at Icy over its top as she holds it up to the light to see if the screen is cracked.

  “Fuck you. I’m taking the gig on that downed Verti-bird with the idiots still inside. These two are supporting. Record it.” Icy spins around without a backwards look, their steps cracking against the floor as they push through the middle of the two mismatched villains waiting behind them. The two’s presence so little I hadn’t even noticed them beside the focus on not adding some new silica to Icy’s ‘ware filled head.

  “Support? We’re working together Icy. The pay should be-”

  “All mine, D-listers. If the Concordat really is staking out the site, then I’ll be the only reason any of you get to leave without cuffs on.”

  Icy doesn’t even look at the pair as he struts out the door and into the ‘guest room’. His new ‘supporters’ sharing a frustrated look before hurrying on after him. The black and silver of their matching pleather jackets and spiked helmets indeed making them seem like classical henchmen. It’s only as the door closes that I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, no longer worried I’ll break the neutrality I’ve just signed up to enforce.

  “Yeesh, what a total shit stirrer. Right?”

  I don’t answer right away as I turn back from checking how everyone else might have reacted to watching Icy leave. So far, I haven’t seen anyone show a drop of interest in me unless they catch me staring but more than a few masked faces are looking towards the exit right now. Somehow, I doubt it’s out of intertest for the pair of old school biker looking villains. They hadn’t looked happy about whatever being support meant for their split of the pay and I can’t help but think about how that’s what Lacy said I’d be doing. Nor what Icy had said about the thing’s Pentex might have me doing for them.

  “Are Pentex really that bad?”

  “Eh, they’re a Corp. They do Corp things. Ain’t they all pretty bad? Creds are creds, right?” Lacy drops a cloth over my hand as she answers. Covering the broken glass slowly spilling its now diluted liquid onto my fingers and then the bar top. My next question cut off as my cheeks burns and I hunch down in my stool at being caught.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t mention it, it’s pretty common given all our clients have some kind of super strength. You’ll get a handle on it. Course, nothing better than real life experience for that.” She waves the tablet back towards me with a cheeky grin as I wrap the glass shards up as best I can. Doing my best not to let too much more of the liquid spill onto the dark mahogany of the counter.

  Tidying up the mess I made lets me stall a moment from taking the tablet. Working my jaw back and forth to help release the tension Icy’s close presence had caused. Sitting on a backless stool is already hard enough when even the slightest movement causes more pain in my ribs. Telling myself that just reading through the job’s deets isn’t agreeing to anything as I swap the wet cloth for the tablet in Lacy’s hand.

  “I’ll thi-”

  “Miss? Your meeting is ready now. Have you decided on a placeholder name I can introduce you with?” I jerk back upright at the voice from behind me. Trying to place the tablet onto the still wet patch of the counter while turning around at the same time and only succeeding in almost falling off my stool. A hand on my wrist helps to balance me and I glance back in surprise to see Lacy steadying me with a smile. Her bigger hand sliding the tablet out of mine with a mouthed message that she’ll hold onto it for me.

  I clear my throat self-consciously as I look away and let the two siblings share a stilted conversation more of looks than words. From the look on the man’s, he doesn’t seem very happy with his sister. I ignore them both as I climb down from the seat while preserving as much of my dignity as I can. Going over in my head what I want to say to this still un-named contact and what exactly I need out of this meeting. There’re only two things really, money and the chance for more money.

  ‘Perhaps not if it involves trafficking people though.’

  “Alright, lead on. And, you can just call me uhh, Jacket for now.” The man does exactly that, leading me across the common room and towards the stairs which are exactly where I’d thought they would be. A surprisingly wide cross-backed staircase hidden around the side of the concrete block that takes up the front of the common room.

  Pre-occupied with my own thoughts, I barely notice the costumed people we walk past or the way a few of them turn to look at me for the first time as I walk up the stairs. The wide steps quickly narrowing into a corridor barely large enough for someone like Collateral to slip through sideways. The walk coming to an end far too quickly as Lacy’s brother directs me towards a plain door before turning to leave back the way we came without a word.

  I watch him go with a gulp as I try to swallow my nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady myself for what might be the most important few minutes of my life so far before pushing open the door and stepping through in one smooth motion.

  Immediately, I feel a little disappointed with the interior. For a place called the Moose’s Heart, a villain pub no less, everything has looked remarkably normal. The private room I’ve been led to looking like it could’ve been ripped straight from any number of professionally inoffensive office spaces. Cream walls, dark blue carpet and a single table where a suited woman is sitting. The only sign that I haven’t stumbled through some portal into a Corpo meeting room being the modified visor that covers the top half of her face.

  The black and white bar looks remarkably similar to a sleeker version of the ones from Osterholt. The main difference being the side facing me is covered in recessed lenses that must let her see through it even while plugged into the Net. Or, perhaps it lets her swap between?

  “Greeting, Jacket. I understand you have a large amount of jewellery to sell. Given I have other business to be about tonight, I would prefer we get right to it.”

  “Yes. Yes, right. Here.” I quick walk over to the table after pausing just inside the door. Licking my suddenly dry lips at the woman’s clipped tone and impeccable posture. Pulling out a seat before starting to take out a little of everything that I Pocketed yesterday. Given how fast everything has been going, I haven’t had a chance to actually think about just how much it was. Now though, on seeing the table filled from end to end with different examples of things I can’t even imagine actually buying, I can start to understand why people might be mad at me.

  ‘It’s still probably the whole highway escape thing that actually did it though. Fucking Pinball.’

  Silence returns to the room as the suited woman picks up and examines each piece of the haul as I set it out. Holding them up to her face where the lenses on her visor click and shiver through degrees of focus or stranger things. She works incredibly quickly, barely needing to glance at some of the items before putting them back down and moving onto the next. The various pieces of holo-tech slow her the most and she powers on a few to examine how well they work. Watching the multicoloured fish swim fluidly around the bracelet on her wrist making me seriously consider keeping one for myself.

  “I can see why our mutual friend contacted me. The marks on these items identify them as being reported stolen from a Saikon outlet just yesterday. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but the sheer amount taken in that smash and grab, not to mention the violence against customers, has made the group eager to set an example.”

  She slides the bracelet off her arm as she turns back to look at me. My own back feeling like a soggy straw compared to the iron rod that is her own. It takes a great deal of self-control not to show any reaction to her statement. The idea that a conglomerate of jeweller families is looking to make an example of me is scary enough without the suggestion that it might stop her from doing business with me.

  “Will that be a problem?”

  “Only for the price. I’ll need to sell them on to someone else who takes things out of the city. I assume you have the rest of what Saikon declared taken?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Good. This will need to be a bulk deal to make it worth my while but, so long as these are representative of the rest, then I can take it at fifteen percent sale value.”

  I don’t quite manage to hold back my reaction to that. A pained wince creasing my brows and likely giving away what I think about the offer. It’s a lot, a lot, better than what the fence was offering but still nowhere near what I’d been hoping for.

  “Fifteen is too low. I want at least fifty-five.”

  “I don’t negotiate unless I have to and you wouldn’t have shelled out a portion of this to have Jack Dvergiz introduce me unless you had to, Pocket. Take the deal or shop around for someone else. You’ll soon realise mine is by far the fairest you’ll see. Although, if you waste anymore of my time by walking away, it won’t be when you come back.”

  I clench my teeth at the reveal that she knows who I am. It’s not too surprising at least. If she knows when and where the stuff she’s about to buy was stolen, then it’s not that hard to find out by who. The visor’s Net connection had only sped up something I’d hoped would take longer. At least long enough for me to be out of here with a deal unaffected by it.

  “You going to want a price for keeping quiet as well?”

  “No, my silence is priced in. I try not to waste my time whenever possible. It’s valuable.”

  I clench my fists to stop myself from fidgeting as I consider telling her to just forget about keeping quiet. Even wondering, briefly, whether I could cash in whatever bounty there is for confirmation of me being alive before realising how bad an idea that is given someone’s already tried to track me. Walking out too, seems like a particularly bad idea if I want to shift this stuff at any point in the near future.

  The woman, who just gave away the name of the fence I’ll be looking up after this, not looking even remotely worried about me walking away as I pause before answering. Her face a better mask then mine as the chrome lines cutting through her cheeks have only moved when she spoke. I’m halfway through opening my mouth to tell her to forget about keeping my being alive a secret when I realise that I haven’t shown her everything.

  “Wait a moment, there’s something I forgot about.”

  I pull out a towel from my Pocket and, remembering how heavy the things weight is, place it on the floor before sliding my hands underneath. A shock of familiar cold running up my arms as my fingers find the safe’s edges. Willing more than pulling it until the thing shifts past that point of no return and rises up underneath the blind spot I’ve created. I pull the towel off with a shiver as I stand back, stuffing it back into my Pocket as the breathing suit stands to approach it. Her face showing its first bit of emotion in the form of a frown so slight I might just be imagining it.

  “This is not part of what Saikon reported taken.” She leans down to inspect the hunk of metal as she speaks, looking over the dial on its front while running her hands slowly across the sides. There’re a few moments of silence as I watch her awkwardly, her frown growing into something more noticeable before being smoothed away the moment I’m sure of its realness.

  “I do not have the tools to open this here but I am willing to take it blind for a two percent bump in the price of the rest.”

  “…No, I’ll hang onto it for now.” I can’t help but lick my lips as I turn down the offer. Not really sure why I do so beyond the emotions its appearance managed to get onto her face, and, maybe, a small amount of curiosity over what’s inside.

  “Very well. As for the rest, I still have no interest in negotiating. Thirty percent is as high as I’ll go. However, seeing your Power in action does make me realise that there’s a way you can increase your margin by making it worth my time to stay silent. A way we can help each other even.”

  Despite my earlier attempt to put up a strong front, I can’t hide the shiver that goes through me at the expression pulling up the woman’s cheeks. A movement that I hesitate to call a smile so much as a forced twitching of muscle more reminiscent of a dying fish than a person. I struggle not to look away as I retake my seat, feeling like I’m stepping out into a frozen lake rather than sliding back onto the soft pleather after re-Pocketing the safe. The chill having little to do with the flash of cold now settling slowly into my bruised bones. The suit stays standing as she looks down at me as I mentally kick myself for just assuming we’d go back to sitting. It feels like I’m giving something away as I open my mouth, nervousness driving me to speak before I can start fidgeting more openly than I am already. Reminding myself, as I stare into the flickering lenses focused intently upon me, that listening isn’t agreeing.

  ‘Contacts, Millie. Contacts.’

  “Alright, I’ll hear what this is. What do you want me to do?”

  HERE if you're interested).