Ynna felt horrible about her actions despite how Rose turned them to her advantage. She knew that Rose’s words did not absolve her, and she felt all the more guilty for just showing up when she needed something. She had been annoyed (though not surprised) that none of her friends had reached out to her, but she hadn’t reached out to anyone, either. She looked up at Rose, her eyes burning, “I’m really sorry.”
“I know,” Rose said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I always knew. The little waves and head nods my way were the reason I knew you were different, and the reason I didn’t hang up on you the second I saw your face earlier.”
“Thanks,” Ynna said, her spirits improving slightly.
“So take the lenses and if you need anything else, like money or anything—” she began.
“No,” Ynna stopped her.
“What if I insisted,” Rose said, and Ynna wondered if the wine was giving her new confidence.
“I’d still say no,” Ynna said flatly.
Rose rolled her eyes. “You’d just be taking money from Carcer, and they’re evil, remember?”
“No,” Ynna insisted. “I’d be taking from you, and you’ve done enough already. You took a huge risk breaking into the system, even if it was easy. And with the lenses, it’s all too much.”
“Fine,” Rose said, but a sly grin crossed her lips. “Let’s set up the lenses, then.”
Rose took her time explaining all the various functions of the lenses and uploaded the Carcer data in such a way that Ynna could look at a shop in her district and know if they paid for protection. They both finished their wine and lazed for a bit on the couch before Ynna realized how late it was getting.
“So, what’s your plan after you finish school?” she asked.
“Well,” Rose began, excitement obvious in her words, “in the fall, I’ll be moving to Tel Aviv.”
She said the last part with a clear implication. Ynna beamed. “No! You got in?”
“I did!” Rose squealed, and Ynna wrapped her arms around the girl. The Tel Aviv Academy of Computer Arts was where all the brightest computer minds went to school to learn how to make money for the big companies within the digital worlds. There were many ways in which people could make huge amounts by farming supplies, setting up ads, and crafting materials in the massively popular virtual worlds. The University taught young folks all these skills, but they were known for another thing as well: recruiting and training the world’s best hackers.
“I’m so proud of you,” Ynna said. “Shit, in a few years, you’ll be able to afford a place way nicer than this!”
Rose nodded. “It’s not really about the money I’ll be able to make, but that won’t hurt.”
“It definitely won’t,” Ynna told her.
“I’m just excited to learn some skills that may be able to help me make the world a better place,” Rose said, entirely genuine.
Ynna matched her sincerity. “That’s great.”
“My mom will be home any minute,” Rose reminded her, and Ynna stood.
“Thank you,” she said, moving to the door. “For everything.”
“It’s my pleasure, Ynna. And if you ever need anything—” she began.
“I won’t,” Ynna said.
“How about: if you ever get into a pinch or find a way I can help the world?” she led.
“I’ll call you,” Ynna finished, and they hugged again.
Years later, when Ynna would watch Rose be gunned down by Carcer officers, she would never tell anyone how deeply it broke her heart. She would play tough and turn the page, but she would never forget what Rose had done for her and what it had meant to have a true friend.
Chapter 8
Ynna had to keep herself from breaking into a run as she moved toward The Press the following morning.
The drudge had done an excellent job, and Karen had come home early with food from the restaurant for them to eat. They watched tv together until they both fell asleep. Ynna was happy her mom had taken such an interest in making sure they spent time together after the incident the night before, but she was almost too excited about the prospect of talking to her friends to care.
She was panting when she came upon Whitney.
“I’ve got it,” she said.
Whitney turned in confusion and raised an eyebrow. “Got what?”
“A plan,” Ynna wheezed.
“Oh,” Whitney said with a curious smile.
“So you can put your tits away, and we can make some real money,” Ynna told her.
“I like the sound of that,” Whitney said.
Whitney got the attention of Metric and Pes, and they both turned somewhat dubious eyes on Ynna.
“Okay,” she began, putting her hand on a pole to steady herself and catch her breath. The ancient wood crumbled at the touch, and Ynna pulled away. “So, you guys know that Carcer offers protection to local businesses to keep people from breaking in?”
“Yeah,” Metric said.
“You just figured that out?” Pes put in.
“No, shut up,” Ynna snarled playfully. “Let me finish. So, most places don’t pay and just put fake signs in the windows to keep from getting robbed.”
“Everyone knows that. Most of us hoodlums are pretty good at spotting the fakes,” Metric said, smiling to himself.
“Met, if you don’t let me finish, I’m going to put you through that fucking wall,” Ynna said, gesturing threateningly.
“I’d like to see you try,” Metric said under his breath but loud enough to be heard clearly.
“I would, too,” Pes added. “I’ll put fifty on Ynna.”
“Will you guys let her finish?” Whitney screamed, and the two shifted as if her words were a gust of wind.
“Fine, sorry,” Pes said.
“Yeah, sorry, Whit,” Metric raised his hands defensively.
Whitney made a sweeping motion with her hand. “The floor is yours.”
Ynna smiled. “Most people think they can spot the fakes but don’t actually act on it because there is a chance Carcer actually protects the place. The risk isn’t worth the reward.”
“Right,” Whitney agreed.
“But I snagged a list,” Ynna said, puffing herself up and folding her arms with pride.
“Wait. What?” Metric asked.
“A list of the places Carcer protects?” Whitney looked astonished.
“Yes,” Ynna said, a little smug. “And I have intel from their database, so we will know which shops are fronts for dealers and drug runners and the like.”
“No. Shit,” Whitney said.
“We are gonna be rich,” Pes muttered.
The three looked on her with such reverence that Ynna never wanted the moment to end.
“Now, we can rob some bad people and turn a nice little profit for ourselves,” she explained, though they had all come to understand that. She just wanted to rub it in.
Whitney looked at her with wide, happy eyes. “This is amazing.”
“Yeah, Yn, this will change our lives. How the hell did you do it?” Metric asked, sounding as if he was still in shock.
Ynna smirked and said cryptically, “I know people.”
“Yeah, you fucking do,” Metric said.
“I guess we have to tell Killian and have him give us some gear,” Whitney said. “We will need guns and ammo and masks and stuff.”
Ynna’s heart sank. She hadn’t considered that they would need to bring Killian in on this. She knew Whitney was right. They would not be able to pull jobs in the area without telling him, and they didn’t have the supplies to rob drug dealers, but she wasn’t happy about having to tell him.
“Any way we can leave the list out of it?” she asked.
The three exchanged nervous glances.
“If he finds out we’ve been withholding,” Metric said implicitly.
Ynna groaned. “Fine.”
They were giddy as they entered Killian’s shop, and he looked up and smiled. Ynna was grat
eful his eyes came to rest on Whitney.
“If it isn’t my favorite group of hooligans,” he said.
“Hey, Kil,” Metric said, taking the lead. “We want to start running some harder jobs.”
Killian shot them a dubious look. “Do you now?”
“Yes, we need you to kit us out with weapons and armor,” Metric said, using a hat-in-hand tone.
Killian stifled a laugh. “You think you’re ready for the big leagues?”
“We do,” Whitney spoke in a tough voice.
Killian was unimpressed. “It’ll take more than shaking that little ass to play with the big boys.”
The inherent sexism made Ynna want to spit. She wanted to throw the fact that it was her who was making this possible in his face. She felt her face flush with anger, but she held her tongue.
“We’ve got a leg up,” Metric said, trying to diffuse the situation. Whitney looked as bothered as Ynna felt.
“It’ll take more than a leg up, kid,” Killian made no effort to hide his condescension.
Metric blurted, “We know who pays for Carcer protection.”
At that, Killian’s face contorted before he could play it cool. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, so we need some gear if we are going to step up our game,” Ynna put in, trying to divert the conversation away from the revelation.
Killian was no fool and did not let the subject drop. “How did a group such as yourselves come upon such valuable information?”
“We know people,” Whitney parroted Ynna’s words.
“Some very well-connected people it seems,” Killian said, eyeing them with new suspicion. “And I think I know everyone you three know.”
He turned his attention to Ynna. “A list like that could be very valuable to certain people.”
“Lucky for us, we are certain people,” Ynna said flatly. She had no interest in selling the list to Killian—a quick buck now would pale in comparison to what they could make from running the jobs themselves.
Killian seemed impressed with the young woman. “I will give you what you need, but you better believe I still get my cut, and I’d better not hear that you tried to fence any goods with anyone else, or this partnership will come to an abrupt and violent end.”
He said the last words with an icy truth.
“We know,” Whitney said with a cutesy eye roll, but there was fear in her voice.
“Come into the back, and we can find you some gear,” Killian offered, gesturing to a door behind the counter. He pointed to Whitney and Ynna. “The stuff I have may not fit right, so you may need to try on a few things for me.”
Whitney and Ynna grimaced in unison. “Fuck off, Kil,” Whitney snarled.
Killian licked his lips. “Not what you’ve said before.”
Ynna’s stomach turned.
“You can watch me change,” Metric said, mercifully pulling attention by taking off his shirt. “I’ve been wanting to show these abs off forever.”
“Hard pass,” Killian said, standing and punching a code into a keypad by the side of the door.
“I guess I’ll just go fuck myself,” Pes added angrily.
Killian looked over his shoulder at her, “Oh, I’d still fu—”
“That’s my sister!” Metric interrupted.
Killian winked at Pes. “I still would.”
As they stepped into the back room, Ynna vowed to one day put Killian in his place.
The room was as big as the shop itself, and Ynna was not surprised that Killian kept it behind a heavy door. The walls, shelves, tables, and boxes were filled and lined with stolen goods. Weapons, ammunition, blueprints, computer parts, and cybernetic augments were everywhere.
For the first time, Ynna realized just how much business Killian actually did. She was so put off by the way he spoke to her that she had been blinded to his business acumen. The moment taught her a lesson she would carry with her the rest of her life—never underestimate a scumbag.
Looking around, Ynna realized what she had been saving for. While she had enjoyed carving out a style for herself, she hadn’t been sure what she was waiting to spend her money on.
This was it.
She wanted the tech, the weapons—all of it.
Killian started grabbing light, black armor with masks, and interference equipment to distort camera imaging. He tossed them each some items and made his way over to a wall of guns.
“What you like?” he asked. Then amended, “It’ll come out of your earnings.”
Metric picked a large, long shotgun, Pes grabbed a handgun, and Whitney a beam gun. Ynna stared at the wall, unsure what to do. She had never handled a weapon in her life, and she had learned in her self-defense class that they were usually far more deadly to the carrier.
She wanted to look tough and took a breath before pulling a black weapon off the wall, startled by the weight of it in her hand.
“SMG, eh?” Killian asked. “Know how to use that thing?”
“No, can you teach me?” she said absently, bouncing it against her palm.
“Oh, I can teach you,” he said, and his tone snapped her back.
“She’s underage, man,” Metric put in, flexing for show and pretending that he wasn’t. Whitney was watching and looking at him the way Killian looked at her.
Killian gave a sinister smile. “Age is just a number.”
Ynna couldn’t hold herself back. “Said every fucking creep ever.”
He laughed, caught off guard by her comment.
Ynna smiled with false sweetness. “So, can you teach me?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“I want to be there when you do,” Whitney said in such a protective manner she reminded Ynna of her mother.
“I’ll be fine,” Ynna said gratefully.
“Come by at closing, and I’ll take you to learn,” Killian offered.
Ynna nodded, and they all took their supplies back to The Press. They had a lockbox there where they could store the stuff. There was an unspoken agreement among the people who stayed there that they would not steal from one another.
Ynna had watched the street justice that followed when one old man broke the rule. The sounds of his bones shattering rang in her ears for days after.
They were all too excited to run any jobs that day, so they spent their time messing around and walking the city streets with Ynna pointing out places they could hit. After scoping out one particularly unguarded shop with a potential weapon cache under the floorboards, they decided to make a go at it the following night.
As the sun was setting and they were parting ways, Whitney offered again, “You sure you don’t want me to join you?”
“No,” Ynna said, still grateful for the offer. “Killian acts tough, but he’s strung-out, and I could break his fingers before he made a grab at me.”
Whitney nodded. “He’s actually not so bad one on one. He’s still disgusting, but he tends to be all talk.”
“That’s the sense I got,” Ynna told her. “Still, I’ll keep my eyes open and watch my back.”
“Your ass, more like,” Whitney half-joked.
“I thought that was implied,” Ynna said and shifted her weight, so they bumped shoulders.
Whitney was right about Killian. During the time he walked Ynna to a twenty-four-hour gun range, and while teaching her the proper use of the weapon, he was mostly respectful. Mostly.
He made his typical lewd comments and “accidentally” brushed against her chest or bottom but tended to keep his hands to himself.
Firing a gun for the first time was a jarring experience. The weight was one thing, but when the recoil slammed against Ynna’s arm, she realized that she was completely unprepared. Killian laughed as she shook out her arm and showed her how to load clips and stand to brace for the impact.
She was pleased that she had asked for help and that Killian was actually a good teacher.
As they wound down the lesson, he reminded her, “You don’t want to have to u
se this. It’s all about the threat and the intimidation. Taking a life—even in self-defense, and even of someone you may think deserves it—stays with you.”
She understood that he was right. The violence she had seen with Hector was enough to scar her, and the idea of killing someone unnerved her greatly.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said, and she meant it.
He grinned. “You know how you could thank me?”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Just when I thought we were having a nice moment.”
“Can’t help it,” he said, all false innocence.
“Right, the scorpion and the frog,” she said, remembering a fable Hector had taught her.
Killian looked perplexed. She clipped the weapon into a sling that he had provided and zipped up her jacket as they exited into the night.
“It’s an old story,” she told him. “A scorpion wants passage across a river and asks a frog for help. The frog is reluctant, but the scorpion assures him that he won’t do anything foolish.
“Halfway across the river, the scorpion stings the frog, ensuring certain death for them both. The frog says, ‘Why did you do that? We will both die now.’
“The scorpion answers that he had to do it because it’s his nature,” she told him.
“Oh,” he said, and she detected a slight sadness in his voice. It was the first genuine moment she had ever experienced with him.
“It’s just a story,” she tried to amend.
“Sure,” he said, avoiding eye contact by looking down the street.
“Seriously,” she said, putting a hand on his forearm and giving a little squeeze. “Thank you.”
He looked into her eyes with a slight smile. “No problem. Don’t get yourself killed,” he said and turned to walk away.
She smirked, having him right where she wanted him.
Chapter 9
Having spent the day doing recon on their target, they felt good about their plan.
Meals In Heels was a food distribution service which received cases of Bio-Meals in the morning and sent scantily clad delivery people out to homes of veterans and the elderly during the day. It was further proof of the rampant sexism which Karen had warned her daughter about. It did not surprise Ynna to learn that the Carcer intel suggested the company also delivered drugs through the business.
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