“Found them,” DD said, hunching forward in her chair.

“You did?” I leaned over her shoulder, unable to make sense of the hash of text on her screen. Dizzy Diamonds- or DD, as she insisted on being called- was about my age, five foot nothing and skinny as a rail. Her skin was dark, her hair electric blue. She had a sort of gothic-pixie look going, though the solid-blue bionic eyes were pretty unsettling. Gossamer strands of fiber-optic cable trailed though her hair and into the bank of computers under her desk, their parts submerged in tanks of rainbow-lit mineral oil. I assumed the monitor was more for my benefit, and she didn’t even need a keyboard at all.

“Yup,” called Stripmine from across the room. “We pulled old regs on the vic,-“

“-caught decal residue on the window, and cross-reffed it with archived dashcam footage-” DD broke in.

“Yeah, just to be sure,” finished Stripmine. “It’s some crew of Valiant bottom-feeders.” Stripmine Flatline was barely any taller than DD, but he had to be three times as wide, his face puffy with baby fat. He had the bulging arms of someone who did a lot of curls and the bulging gut of someone who ate too much junk food. His skin was pasty to the point of translucence, and he was shaved hairless as a natural egg- for ‘hygienic convenience,’ he’d explained when I asked. His computer hummed beside him, a hulking grilled-metal cube with what looked like a small car’s radiator bolted to the side. These two were Walker’s pet slicers, intercepting Blue Div comms and cracking Admin databases from the basement of Walker’s office.

DD spoke up again. “They call themselves…the-“

“The Killers of Inrë,” Stripmine interrupted, sounding exasperated. “Yeesh.”

“Seriously, could you be any more clichè? Might as well be the-“

“Hell’s Demons or some shit, yeah.”

I was having trouble following this whole exchange. It was especially weird because they kept staring into the ether as they spoke, their optic nerves bypassed by direct connections to their rigs. “Are you guys talking to each other in cyberspace or something?”

“Ha!” DD let out a single bark of laughter.

“Wwwwwelcome to the world of tomorrow!” shouted Stripmine in a hammy announcer’s voice. “Experience the Net as an audiovisual, three-dimensional spatial simulation! We call it…Cccccyberspacccce.”

They both burst out laughing and I got the idea I’d said something pretty stupid. “I assume that’s a no?”

“Yeah, no,” DD chirped. “Only skiddies and nerve-burnt old hacks-“

“-and poseurs who watch too many movies-“

“-and anyone else who really doesn’t know what they’re doing uses spatial sim anymore,” she finished. “Basal link is far less crude.”

“It’s not like looking at something or reading text,” Stripmine continued. “More like, the Net is you and you’re it.”

Frankly my interest in all that was barely above zero even when I didn’t have revenge to plan. “Well, I’ll leave you to it just as soon as you let me know where these fuckers are.”

“Speak not with such uncouthitude, meat-monkey!” yelled DD.

“Thou’rt in our abode, now! Hold thy peace or be forever cursed!” They both started cackling. Was it a reference I didn’t get?

“An address. Please. Then I will leave your…abode forevermore.”

“4230 Salmiak Place, Lot 4!” DD proclaimed.

“Is the meat-monkey satisfied?”

“Yes! Kings!” They started laughing again as I stomped up the stairs. What a couple of weirdos.

At least they worked fast. It was only a couple hours since I left Dezi’s place. Her family took the whole drive-by thing impressively in stride, but that was D-blockers for you. Her mother Varvara apologized to me for the state of the neighborhood even as I helped bind up the graze on her arm, which made me feel terrible. It was my fault their home had been shot up. In fact, Dezi had pulled me aside right after I finished bandaging.

“I…I think I’m going to tell them the truth about our work, Sharkie.”

“Yeah,” I managed, my mind still kind of reeling. Try as I might to keep them separate, the dangers of the job were affecting my personal life and the people I kept in it. “I had the same talk with my dad a little while back. It went alright, but…damn. It wasn’t easy.”

She nodded, looking glum. “Um…you can leave if you want. I know it’t pretty awkward already.”

I let out a sigh. “Would you hate me if I took you up on that?”

“Of course not.” She suddenly pulled me into a hug. “We’re friends, Sharkie! This doesn’t change things.”

“No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Dezi.” I embraced her back and let go. “I’m gonna go talk to our ‘security,’ for all the good they did. Figure out what happened.”

“Right.”

“I’ll let you know what I figure out. There’s gonna be consequences for this, I promise you that.”

She nodded once again, slower. “Good luck, Sharkie. H-happy Pact Day.”

I half-smiled at her half-joke and headed down to the street. Escaping before that conversation with her parents happened was a cowardly move, but I was grateful for the out. The cracked sidewalks at ground level were still deserted, the locals no doubt wary of continued hostilities. There was only one car in the street, a nondescript sedan wirth mismatched wheels. It sat in the shadows between the buzzing lifelights, two people holding kalashes leaning against it. I zoomed in with my Thayer eye and could just make out skeletal tattoos on their hands.

I walked toward them, making sure my hands were empty and my ink visible. “Hey, you guys the security team?”

The smaller figure’s gun still twitched upward at the sound of my voice. “Holy shit!” said a young woman’s voice. “Are you S-sawyer?”

I suppressed a wince. “Yeah, I am.”

“Holy shit! Did you really punch that guy at the meeting so hard he died?”

“I don’t know, is he dead?” I snapped before realizing it made me sound like a callous fuck. Mirabeau was the last thing on my mind right now, though.

“Not technically, but he ain’t woke up yet.” The second voice was older, male. I got close enough to see their faces. The second speaker was indeed a tough-looking older guy with a salt-and-pepper goatee and tattoos swirling on his bald scalp. The first was a wide-eyed woman who didn’t even look twenty, an electric-blue mohawk standing high on her head. She was barely five feet but her well-defined shoulders spoke to a lot of time in the gym. Both wore jeans and leather vests, though the woman’s looked conspicuously new.

“To be honest, I knew ‘im and it was a long time comin’,” the guy finished. “Rossi. Plehve.” He pointed to himself and the girl, then stuck out his hand. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him they’d had one Kingsdamn job and they’d chooched it up worse than a couple of runoff-drunk roaches. It wasn’t like getting in their faces would un-shoot the house, though, and besides: I noticed a calculating look in Rossi’s eyes. Fact was that despite my position on Walker’s crew, I’d only joined up a few weeks ago. That was the kind of thing that made people resentful, especially if they’d been in a while like this guy had. Act like too much of a dickhead and I’d find myself a pariah in my own gang. So I set my jaw, shook his hand, and kept my voice level as I could as I introduced myself. I shook Plehve’s hand too, and she stared up at me like I was her favorite holo-star or something. It was creepy.

“It’s r-really great to meet you, Miss Sawyer! Uh, where’s your saw, though? Can I see it?” She kept shaking until I actively pulled my hand away.

Miss? Seriously? My patience had its limits. “At home. So what happened?”

Plehve looked down, twiddling nervously with her rifle’s safety, and Rossi spat tobacco juice onto the ground. “My fault,” he growled, actually looking contrite. “The rook ’n’ me been out here since morning, and we were takin’ shifts on stakeout. Was my turn when the shooters pulled up, an’ I was zoned out.” I noticed Plehve’s eyes flick up at him for an instant. Was he covering for her? Didn’t matter right now. “We didn’t get a bead on ‘em until they’d tapped out. Killed two almost for sure, though.”

“Good, I guess.” I crossed my arms. Plehve twitched like she wanted to step back, but the car was in the way. I thought Rossi’s eyes widened as he caught which runes I had on my hand. “You get anything else on them? The vic have a license plate?” I scoffed even as I said it. In D-block that was about as likely as the Martyred Kings coming back to visit you on your birthday.

Plehve spoke up. “We, uh, we actually got the car on our dashcam. If that helps?”

“It might. You want to send me the footage?”

“Got it right here, Miss Sawyer.” She pulled out her slab, and I tapped mine against it to transfer the file. The video was pretty blurry, the camera’s contrast all over the place as it tried to cope with Alba’s poor lighting. I saw a dented SUV pull to a stop outside the house. After a few seconds, rifles protruded from its windows and emptied their magazines up at the building. There were shouts and gunfire closer to the camera, and the truck’s back window was splashed with blood. It roared away, tires squealing, and the video ended.

“…Thanks,” I told them. “I’m going to take this to Walker so we can maybe figure out who the fuck these idiots are.” I paused for a moment, realized I had nothing more to say to them, and began walking away. I was about to dial Walker and tell him what happened when Rossi spoke up behind me.

“Sawyer?”

I looked over my shoulder. “What?”

“I…we’re sorry, I mean. Everyone alright in there?”

“Just minor injuries.” They didn’t say anything, though Plehve looked an odd combination of despondent and relieved. “See you around.” I called up Walker, who was positively apoplectic when he heard what happened. He gave me a Net address to send the video to, sent a driver to pick me up, and from there I paced around in the halls of the building until Ms. Sanverth got annoyed and banished me to the hackers’ basement.

I stomped up the stairs after they figured out the culprits, still shaking my head at their antics. People that lived mostly on the Net like that were a different breed. It wasn’t for me, but they had gotten results.

The Killers of Inrë, I mused. It was a stupid-ass name, that was for sure. Inrë was an archdemon in Dakessar theology, basically an avatar of murder. The sort of thing bands put on album covers to look edgy. I didn’t think for a second they’d just decided to shoot up Dezi’s house out of the black. They were piranhas, one of the myriad small-time gangs occupying the Valiant ward of D-block. Walker’d told me himself that the Holy Bones and Blue Division would often hire their sort to do work they were unwilling to be involved in directly. As deniable assets, in other words.

The most obvious conclusion was that Blue Division had hired them for the hit. Maybe it was retaliation at me for ruining their deal with the Fomorii, or maybe they were lashing out after Yera’s crew had escalated things. Maybe they’d been planning for even longer than that. In the end, it didn’t matter. Let this go unanswered and it would just happen again.

Walker’s office door was open and I walked right in. The man himself was cleaning his gun with a burner dangling from the corner of his mouth, the parts neatly laid out on his desk. I took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs as he scrubbed furiously at some speck of dirt in the slide rails.

“I think it’s good to go, man. You’re gonna fuck up the finish.”

He set it down. “Sharkie. Please tell me the tech jockeys got us somethin’.”

“The Killers of Inrë,” I said, nodding. “Piranhas out of Valiant. They’re in a warehouse on Salmiak Place.”

“Blues hired ‘em, no doubt.” He pulled his cig down almost to his lips and ground the butt viciously into his over-full ashtray. “We’ll need to go make an example of ‘em. Gotta show that can’t nobody take a swing at you or me without dire fuckin’ consequences.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

He sighed, leaning his head on his hand. “Fuckin’ Yera and the fuckin’ Boss. I swear we coulda took care of this shit small scale. Small teams, small casualties. Guess that ain’t enough for some people.” He glanced up at me. “I’m proud to be a quarryman, Sharkie, but I’ll we damned if we ain’t a bloody-minded bunch, sometimes.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “To be honest, Walker, I can kind of relate.” I’d promised myself a few days ago that I’d do my job with a minimum of cruelty and blind emotion. The fact was, though, I wanted to hurt these people for what they’d done. They fucking deserved it.

“Oh, I can’t say I’m immune either. Case in point, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He leaned toward me. “I’m sendin’ you in, of course, but you ain’t goin’ alone.”

“Is Monta coming?” I perked up at the chance to see Fidi again, even under poor circumstances.

But Walker shook his head. “He’s doin’ somethin’ else for me right now. I’m sending you with a whole team. Marie’s, if that’s alright.”

Crossing my arms, leaning back into the puffy chair. “You sure? She wasn’t too happy with me last we talked.”

“It ain’t her feelins’ I’m worried about. As a matter of fact, though, she did just like I said. Rang me up the other day, told me she wanted to apologize to you sometime. Said me and her’d been ‘a couple of straight-up snaky bitches,” if I recall correctly.”

I snorted. “She says sorry and doesn’t to it again, Walker, it’s water under the bridge. Who’s coming with her?”

“Good, that’s good to hear. Whew.” He pulled a fresh cig out of his desk and got it lit. “She’s got a crew of hardcore shooters. Former mercs, security crews vets…people who know their shit. Kinda like Yera’s boys, exept they actually understand the word “discretion.”

“Alright.” If Walker was really praising them I supposed I could trust them with my back. “How long’s it gonna take for them to get ready? I just have to swing by my place and arm up.”

“Two hours tops. They’ll meet up here.”

“Two hours…wait, what time is it?” With all the chaos and excitement I’d completely lost track. I checked my slab and blanched, suddenly feeling tired. “One in the morning? Aw, shit. You got caff or something, Walker?” He’d already dug a can of it out of his desk and tossed it to me. Super dark roast, double strengh. I took a swallow and it almost burned going down my throat. “Dude, how has your heart not exploded yet?”

He shrugged, sipped from his own can and took a drag on his cigarette. “Must be clean livin’.”

“Whatever,” I said, shaking my head. “Kingsdamn, but I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow- wait. Damn it!” I was supposed to go visit Pengyi tomorrow. Our second date, if you wanted to call it that. “I gotta make a call, boss. You mind if I borrow a car to go get my stuff afterward?”

“Whatever you need.” He regarded me for a moment, smoke drooling up from his burner. “You good to go, little miss?”

I stared at him a moment then sighed, smiling. “Can’t believe you’re still calling me that. I’ll be fine, Walker. Thanks for asking.”

He nodded and I left him there to call up Marie. I myself headed out to the porch and called Pengyi. I felt bad about waking him up, but I had to let him know.

He answered with a yawn. “Myahm. What is, Sharkie?”

“Pengyi, I’m sorry to call you so late, but I can’t make it tomorrow.” I explained what had happened and what I was doing about it. “So instead of coming to see you I gotta go…well, I gotta go kill some people,” I finished.

“Okay.” He paused, and I thought I heard him getting out of bed. “When will you do this? I meet you.”

“In a couple hours- wait, what do you mean? You want to come?”

“Of course.” He sounded surprised I’d asked. “They try to hurt my woman, hurt her friends. I not let them try again.”

“Your woman…” I mumbled. Oh, man.

“Not- I not mean like I own you! Is just-“

“No, no! It’s fine. Just, the way you said it was really cute.”

“Mmh.” I could almost hear him blushing. “If you say. I meet you at same place as before, then?”

“Yeah. If you’re sure about this. It’s really not your fight.” Enough people had gotten hurt because of me and my job already, and I didn’t want to add him to the list. He was his own person, though, and telling him to stay home might offend him. Besides, based on what I’d seen of him in the Park, having him at my back would be reassuring.

“I am, Sharkie. Want to help you. You would do for me, I think.” He wasn’t wrong. “When will I see you?”

“Maybe half an hour. Is that long enough to get ready?”

“Yes. I see you soon.” We said our goodbyes and hung up. I went back inside and grabbed the keychip to one of the office cars. After I stopped by my place to grab the glittersaw and some spare ammo, I drove over to the Park and found Pengyi waiting for me. He was loaded for pergato, with an old flechette pistol holstered on his waist and bandoliers of spare shotgun shells crisscrossing his chest. They rattled as he pulled me into a hug.

“You are alright?” he asked, looking up at me intensely. He’d gone for the full scarf and camo paint today, so all I could see of him were his slit-pupiled eyes.

“Yeah. Pissed off, but I’m fine. How’re you?”

He shrugged, cat ears flattening backward. “Not expect to be doing this today. But I have fought before. Will be glad to help you.”

“Thanks for that. Really.” We were still holding each other. I leaned down, realized his scarf was in the way, and kissed him through it anyway. He leaned into it a moment, then pulled away doing that quiet little nishishi laugh.

“Don’t rush yourself, Sharkie!” I laughed too. It was stupid but I was honestly happy to see him.

“Right, right. You okay working with others? We’re meeting up with a team of my friends.”

He nodded slowly. “Can deal with it.” Then he hopped in the car, shotgun between his knees. “Never ride in one of these before. Fun.” He glanced excitedly around the interior.

I shook my head, smiling. “Here, put this on.” I showed him how the seatbelt worked and got moving. Within a minute Pengyi went still, pressed flat into the seat. “You okay?” I asked.

“My stomach hurts.”

“Motion sickness.” Poor guy. “Just try and look straight forward.”

“Mm. Fast, though.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’.” I shook my head as soon as the words cleared my mouth. Stupid Walker rubbing off on me. The car I’d borrowed was a generic electric sedan, but I floored it along a straight stretch and got up to sixty or so.

“Magne shan! I see why you deal with it now!”

“It doesn’t usually happen when you’re the one driving,” I said, slowing down. “I’ll teach you how, sometime.”

“Would like that.” It wasn’t long before we got back to the office and I led Pengyi inside.

“Ah. Very nice house.”

“It is, actually. You want to sit down?” I showed him into one of the empty offices, the spot where Dezi usually worked. Ms. Sanverth was there, too, hammering away at some kind of spreadsheet on her computer. I wondered if she ever went home, or even slept. I’d heard there were cognitive implants that could do that sort of thing. Before we got a chance to find a seat she glanced back at us, surprised to see Pengyi. She unhooked her temple connection and drifted over to us in her black skirt and white blouse.

“Hello there, Sharkie. Who’s this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I gave Pengyi a glance and he nodded, albeit a little nervously. I was surprised to see him pull down his scarf as well, his face pale beneath the greasepaint around his eyes. “This is Pengyi Morranne. My...boyfriend.”

“Ah. It’s nice to meet you, sir. I am Rouenn Sanverth.” She extended a hand and Pengyi shook it careful as if it was a bomb.

“…Is nice to meet you too.”

“And the same to you. Now, what is an upstanding young man like you doing with a delinquent like her?” She smiled, but Pengyi didn’t seem to get it, eyes going wide.

“Is, um, she is nice to me, and treats me like normal person? And I like talking with her, and how she is so tall-”

“A-ah, yes, of course.” Ms. Sanverth actually looked embarrassed that her joke had been taken literally, and I was blushing myself. “Um, congratulations.”

He nodded solemnly while I did my best not to laugh. “How are things, M- Rouenn?” I asked.

“Good enough, good enough.” She glanced over at me, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Dezhda is alright, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reassured her. “A little shaken up, but she’s not hurt.”

“Oh. Good. I’m happy to hear that.” She leaned back against the wall in relief, but her eyes remained sharp. “I hope such an affront won’t go unanswered.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be answering it shortly.”

“I’m glad. I wish you luck, Sharkie, Pengyi.” She gave us a serious nod and went back to her computer.

Pengyi himself glanced up at me. “Who do we actually have to fight, Sharkie?”

That he even had to ask made me well up with affection. He’d decided to help me before we even knew who he was fighting. I told him about the Killers of Inrë and what we were likely to encounter.

“Okay. We are killing them all, then?” That affection took on an odd tinge as I wondered at how easily he asked that.

“Maybe. We definitely aren’t showing up just to hang out.”

“Mm.” He plunked down on a well-padded bench in the hall and I joined him. “Sleepy. You can’t wait to morning before you get shot up?” He grinned at me despite the tiredness in his eyes.

“I’ll do better next time. You want a coffee or something?”

“No.” He yawned and leaned against me, shotgun resting on the floor. “Cat nap.” And with that he laid his head on my shoulder and shut his eyes. Now I was trapped. I wondered if he was joking around with the whole ‘cat’ thing. I always avoided the topic, unsure how he felt about it.

Maybe an hour later, I was hovering in that weird, sleep-deprived-but-can’t-sleep excessive caffeine state when Marie came in. “Hey, Sawyer, I-oh.” She noticed Pengyi and I sitting there, a surprised look on her face. She’d dressed for the occasion, wearing khaki fatigues and a chest rig loaded with spare magazines. “Is that your…”

“Yeah. He’s coming along, if that’s alright.” I kept my voice precisely neutral.

She glanced at his kit and nodded. “Sure thing, as long as he’s up for it. Uh…” She rubbed the back of her neck the same way I did when I was embarrassed. “Listen, I’m sorry about that bet I made with Walker. And about how I treated you afterward. I…I got a hard time ownin’ my fuckups, and it don’t do me no favors. So I wanna apologize. I was bein’ a bitch for no good reason, Sharkie, and I won’t do it again.”

I was almost embarrassed myself. I was expecting more of a simple ‘I’m sorry,’ not this level of contrition. “All good, Marie, all good. Thanks. Uh, will we be able to get along while we do this thing?”

She let out a relieved sigh. “I want to as long as you do.” I extended my hand and she gave it a firm shake. Pengyi stirred next to me, leaning upright and getting off the bench to stretch.

“Thanks, Sharkie.” He noticed Marie and briefly froze, watching her with a wary look in his eyes. “Is one of your friends?”

I nodded. “Marie, this is-“

“Pengyi,” he finished for me. “Nice to meet you.” I continued to be impressed by how fast his Standard had improved. He shook Marie’s hand tentatively.

“Marie.” She smiled and looked him up and down, glancing at his shotgun. “Charmed. You know how to use that thing?” Okay, maybe we won’t be able to get along, I thought.

“Of course,” he said, seeming confused. “Would not have it if not.”

“Just checkin’.” She winked at me, hopefully meaning that she was kidding and not that she was going to keep hitting on my poor, oblivious boyfriend. I guess she was already back to her old self. “You guys ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She turned, heading back outside. “Come meet the team and we’ll get rockin’.”