Cross purses her lips. She’s good at playing casual, but I can tell reminding her we robbed her place is annoying the shit out of her. “Not a mansion. A factory. Several years ago, Mr. Sloane’s son was overseeing the production of a new mech line. Regulations were ignored. Injuries occurred. Settlements were paid. Sloane had to be called in to clean up his disappointing progeny’s mess. Proof of the cover-up exists on a terminal in the foreman’s office. I need you to access the hard drive and copy it…without disturbing the hardware.” When Cross sees me frown, she elaborates, “Mr. Sloane and I have something of a…détente in place. If he receives an indication that I might be trying to extract this information, he will no doubt assume that détente is over."
I narrow my eyes at Cross. “We get a copy of that hard drive, you call off your dogs?”
“Precisely. You’ll have a fresh start, and we can part ways.”
I’m not convinced. It sounds too good to be true, which in this business always means it is. “You still haven’t given me any reason to trust you.”
“I’m a businesswoman, Ms. Young. I like to maximize value. Getting rid of Sloane is much more important to me than punishing you for a few instances of breaking and entering, though they were extremely inconvenient.”
It’s that word, inconvenient, that gets me. Why would Veronica lie? She doesn’t see us as enemies, more like pests. If she can use us against her ‘real’ competition, that’s a win for her. And a clean slate sounds pretty tempting. Part of me just wants to drop off the grid so I don’t have to deal with anybody anymore, including my own crew. That won’t be possible until Veronica stops hunting us.
“I’ll need more than just your word,” I say, with more confidence than I feel.
“Of course,” Veronica says. “I’ll send along the appropriate information, as well as some advance payment.”
An alert flashes on my VIS-R, letting me know I’ve received a message. No. Not a message. Money. Well over two hundred million credits. Even I wasn’t expecting that. Two hundred million credits I can use to go to ground if I have to.
“Fine,” I tell Cross, without bothering to look at the rest of the crew. “It’ll get done. Then, you never contact any of us again.”
“Trust me, I have no desire to.” She makes as if to disconnect, but changes her mind at the last second. “Oh, one more thing. Bring your whole crew with you. The factory is high security, so be careful.”
The condescension rubs me the wrong way, but I swallow it down. “You’ll get what you pay for.”
Cross smiles. Once more, I’m reminded of an animal who has cornered its prey. “I’m glad you’ve decided to be reasonable. I’ll be in touch.” She disconnects and the screen goes black, leaving a ghostly imprint of her image hanging in the air for a split second.
That’s when I realize everyone’s looking at me.
“What the fuck, jefa?” Cherry says, both hands on her hips. “You could’ve—”
“Don’t you dare say ‘asked you,’ Valdez,” I snarl, squaring off with her. “Oh, are you upset that someone else made a huge and potentially dangerous decision for you? Did you want me to consult with you first? Now you know how it feels.”
“Stop it, both of you.” Rami steps between us, holding out their arms. “Sasha, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but that was a risky call you just made. Are you sure about this?”
Upset is a huge understatement, but Rami has a point. Going in hot is a great way to get myself killed, and I need the crew’s help. I take a deep breath. This won’t be the first time I’ve had to swallow my pain for the sake of the mission, and I doubt it’ll be the last. I look at the rest of the crew and try to talk like a leader.
“You all know how I feel right now. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I don’t trust you the way I did before. But I’m going to make myself trust you for this mission, because I want all of us to get out of this alive. Whatever I’m feeling, I’ll push it down until we’re safe. I hope the rest of you will do the same thing. Are you with me?”
I search their faces one by one, but I don’t find any objections. Rock seems calm and steady as always. Doc looks unsettled, more nervous and introspective than usual. Cherry’s got fire in her eyes, but I recognize it as determination. Rami is still wounded. Their eyes are wet, but they press their lips together tight and don’t say anything.
Last, I look at Val. I know her expression is more of a choice than a reaction, but she’s chosen one with openness. “The rebuilding of trust requires consistent demonstrations of loyalty over an extended period of time. This is an opportunity to assure you of my commitment to that goal.”
I dip my chin in acknowledgment. “Fine.” Then, to everyone, “Dismissed.”
The crew looks like they want to scatter, so I leave first. There aren’t many rooms in the Hole—combined living room and kitchen, bunks, showers, storage, Val’s server rooms, and armory. I head for storage. It’s the least likely place someone else will go, and I need the solitude.
It’s dark inside the storage room, but the dim lights flicker on when I step inside. Aside from the hum of the generator, it’s quiet too. Several layers of shelving are built into all four walls to hold a couple months’ worth of canned food, and supply crates with ammo, armor, and parts cover half the floor. I sit on one and rest my chin in both hands, elbows on knees. Despite everything I’ve discovered, I’m back where I started, risking my life for people who used me and lied to me.
“Sasha?”
I look up in surprise. Elena is standing in the doorway, the brighter lights of the hallway casting her into a partial silhouette. I straighten as she enters the storage room. “You don’t need to check on me. I’m…” I can’t lie and say fine, so I go with, “managing.”
“It’s not about checking on you,” Elena says. “I just wanted to talk.”
I narrow my eyes. “About?”
Elena hops on the crate next to mine, feet dangling above the floor. “I realized I never apologized. You know, for our fight. I called you cold and I was so fucking wrong. All this shit, and you’re still loyal to your friends, even when they weren’t loyal back.”
“Loyal.” I heave a sigh. “I just know I need them to get a copy of that hard drive for Cross. When did you go from hating me to looking at me like I’m some paragon of virtue?”
Elena smirks at me. “I saw your memories, dumbass. Pretend to hate your crew all you want. They deserve the cold shoulder for a while for keeping the whole clone thing a secret. But you still care about them, and they still care about you. That’s why they did it.”
“Yeah? Lying’s a great way of showing how much they care.”
“They care,” Elena insists. “Didn’t you see Doc’s face? Rami’s eyes? They all felt guilty as hell before Cross called.”
The knot in my chest tightens. I’d thought I’d exhausted my anger, but apparently Elena’s still fantastic at bringing it out in me. “They brought it on themselves when they lied. And since when are you Miss Sympathy? Judging me for wanting out when I’ve had to drag you along by the ear this entire time? ‘I don’t crewbond.’ Sure. Maybe the old Elena who thought I was a shithead was right.”
“I wasn’t,” Elena says, “but the old Sasha was.”
I roll my eyes. “Which one?”
“You know what I mean. The one who put family and crew first.”
“Like they put me first?”
“You’re twisting what I’m saying. I came in here to help—”
“Well, stop. You’re making it worse. Which is pretty incredible, since things are already terrible.”
“They’re not—”
I climb off the crate. “You’re seriously going to tell me their motives justify what they did?”
Elena stands up too. She can’t meet me eye to eye, but damn if she isn’t trying. “Look, I’m on your side!”
I lean down, air puffing through my nose. “If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t want me to go. Yo
u’d tell me not to run this op. You’d…”
Something in her eyes stops me. Maybe I see a glimpse of myself in them: angry, scared, lashing out like some kind of wounded animal. I shut up. Take a step back. What I said doesn’t even make sense. I took Cross’s offer to protect myself long-term, but…I’m so goddamn tired of risking my life. Of almost dying. Of actually dying. And yet, once more unto the breach.
“Sasha,” Elena says, her face all fury and pain. For once, her voice isn’t snappy or sarcastic. She’s mad, but the quiet kind of mad, something I’ve never seen from her before. “I know you’re hurting, but it does not excuse the way you’re talking to me.”
She waits, like she expects me to say something. My chest feels cold, sore. The hole in it has widened. “No one ever asks me to stay back.” My voice sounds small in the enclosed storage room. Weak. “No one ever gets upset. No one ever tries to stop me when I have to take a risk. When I might die. Not Megan. Not the crew.”
Elena’s eyes soften a little. “So why did you expect me to ask? You said yourself that this was our best option.”
The question sends a wave of something hot and painful through me. I can’t identify it, but it’s eating away at me like acid. The answer’s right there, only I can’t reach it. I’m exhausted with making these calls, putting on armor, using my body as someone else’s meatshield. Megan must have seen it. How I’m feeling. How the other Sashas felt. She had to. How could she not? She just…didn’t care. She didn’t care how much it took out of me.
Elena must sense that the fight’s over. She reaches out, pauses, then touches my arm when I don’t pull away. “I don’t want you to die, Sasha. I don’t understand why the fuck you think I do, but I don’t.”
I close my eyes for a long time. “I’m tired of being disposable. Replaceable. It makes me feel…”
“I know.” Elena squeezes my arm a little tighter. “I grew up poor, Sasha. Most people looked at me like fucking garbage until I started running ops. One time, I skipped eating for two days to feed my brothers until our peebees came in, you know? Collapsed on the sidewalk. Woke up maybe half an hour later, and people were stepping over me. They didn’t care enough to drag me out of the way.”
My first reaction is more anger. I think of Megan, the new memories I have of the guilt trips and the gaslighting. But Elena isn’t asking me for anything. She’s not trying to get something from me. Instead, she’s offering empathy, which is exactly what I need.
I don’t pull away. Instead, I lean down. The kiss just sort of happens. Our lips touch for a second or two, then we back away to look at each other. Elena must have found whatever she’s searching for, because she moves her hand from my arm to my neck and pulls me back down.
She tastes good. Sweet. Her palm feels nice on the back of my neck and it feels right to put my hands on her waist. Our bodies press together, not grinding, but close enough to share heat. For the first time since Hong Kong, I relax. This isn’t the kiss of someone who wants me to die. It isn’t the kiss of someone who doesn’t care. It has tenderness, longing, and…Shit. This isn’t the right time. I’m not the right person. I’m not even sure how much of a person I am.
I break away. Elena’s lips trail after mine, so I take a step back. “I’m sorry. It’s just too much right now.”
Elena’s face takes a visible journey between ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘right now.’ “Hey, it’s okay,” she says, forcing a smile. “You’re right. This is weird. And we’ve got shit to do.”
“Exactly.”
“So, we forget about this and handle Cross’s dirty work. But Sasha…” She looks up at me with utter sincerity. “I don’t want you to die. And I don’t think you’re disposable. Some asshole tries to kill you, I’ll kill them first.”
I snort. “You? Ready and eager to kill someone?” It would be petty to mention how shook up she was over the jacker she melted in Tokyo, or how she hesitated in AxysGen’s Siberian facility, but I’m thinking about it.
Elena doesn’t laugh. “Hey, if it’s them or you, I pick you.”
I pick you. I don’t know when Elena’s voice has become so clear in my head, but it is. My brain might be scrambled, but it doesn’t have trouble echoing her words. “Okay.”
Elena seems to get the hint that I want to be alone. She turns around and heads for the door, and it’s only when she starts to push it open that I stop her. “Wait.”
She looks back over her shoulder. “What?”
“When I said I’m sorry, I didn’t just mean for...I’m sorry for what I said.”
Elena shrugs. “Hey, giving a shit is new for me. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”
“That makes two of us.”
Elena leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I sit back on the crate, staring up at the dim lights. I can still taste strawberries on my lips.
Thursday, 06-17-65 23:35:36
IT’S RAINING OVER KUALA Lumpur. Great sheets of water batter the Eagle’s windshield, hammering so hard and fast that I can’t see anything. Rami pilots the shuttle steadily through the storm, their eyes fixed on the scanner. They swoop in low over the city’s skyscrapers, slowing down to merge with traffic.
It’s awkward, sitting next to them, but better than sitting in back near Elena. I know she said we were fine, but I can’t shake the look of disappointment on her face. Not that being near Rami is all that different. They look like someone kicked their puppy, and I know perfectly well that someone is me.
You shouldn’t have said those things. To any of them. I want so badly to hold onto my anger, but remorse is creeping in. Damn it. I’ve always been softhearted, wanting to believe the best in people, giving them second chances. But that was where I screwed up with Megan. I kept giving her second chances, and third chances, and sixth chances, and I was the one who paid the price for it—the one who’s still paying the price.
But not everyone is like Megan. Her issues were part of a pattern. Your crew has never done anything like this before.
Oh, really? Then why were they okay with letting Megan clone you? Watching you die?
I close my eyes. There isn’t time for this. For feelings. Right now, the op is all that matters. One more job, and it’s over. Cross will stop hunting me, and I can take my share of the money and do whatever I want…with or without the crew. I’m still not sure yet.
“You sure you wanna do this, jefa?” Cherry asks from the back. “It’s not too late to make a break for it. Head for another hideout and go off-grid for a while.”
I flinch, but suppress most of the reaction. Jefa. I know the nickname’s habit, but it puts me on edge. It was a form of friendly intimacy even before Elena cribbed it and turned it into something sexual. “You know why we can’t, Cherry. AxysGen has a bottomless bank account. Cross can just keep sending crews after us.”
Rami swings the shuttle left and veers down. We’re on the city’s outskirts, still inside the metropolis itself, but the buildings are spaced slightly further apart. Tucked between two medium-sized skyscrapers is an enormous, rectangular factory building. It’s got the typical AxysGen look, shiny metal and chrome, but as we get closer, I notice something strange. There’s no electromagnetic shielding to cut through. There are no shuttles parked nearby, and there’s no foot traffic going in or out of the building. The security towers at all four corners of the factory are dark, and when I glance at the Eagle’s dashboard scanners, they don’t show any heat signatures below us.
"Val, you're plugged in. Do you see anything?”
“It is what I cannot see that concerns me,” Val says through the Eagle’s speakers. “The shuttle sensors seem to be operational, but I am receiving no relevant data.”
“Cross said the place shut down in the files she sent,” Doc says.
“She also told us to prep for heavy security,” I mutter. “This place is supposed to be closed, not abandoned.”
Rami gives me a sidelong glance. “Would we have believed her if she’d said security wa
s light?”
“Maybe we should just roll with it,” Cherry says. “Less chance of getting caught.”
Elena snorts from somewhere in back. “The only thing we’re getting caught in is a trap.”
I sigh. She’s probably right, but we need the credits. “Take us in, Rami. The rest of you, be prepared for anything.”
We level off beside the first floor of the factory, next to a pair of oversized hangar doors. Rami transmits the access code Cross gave us through the radio on the dashboard, and they groan as they open for our shuttle.
“Wow, first try?” Cherry says. “Guess that wasn’t the trap, then.”
I catch a glimpse of Doc frowning in the rear view camera feed. “I don’t like how easy this is, Sasha.”
I don’t either, but we’re here. Our only other option besides pressing forward is retreating with Cross’s credits, but that would be tantamount to painting an even bigger target on our backs.
Rami pulls the Eagle into the eerily empty hangar and kills the engine. After a final gear check, we hop out and head for the door. The room beyond looks sort of like an abandoned reception area. There's no sign of any guards, and not much in the way of furniture either. Only a large desk attached to the floor, some old terminals, and a broken chair or two. It’s pretty clear this place has been stripped for parts, which raises the hairs on my neck. If so much has been taken, it’s weird that the evidence against Sloane is still here.
I turn to Rami. “Tell me what we’re working with here.”
Rami runs a scan with their VIS-R. “The building’s got power—it’s in energy-saving mode, but still.”
Doc says what we’re all thinking. “Shit. Creepy.”
“No organics,” Rami continues. “You picking up anything else, Val?”
Val’s voice filters through our comms. “I have been able to access an unsecured wireless network. It displays weak electromagnetic signatures in a large room located thirty meters away.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Elena says. “They built mechs here, right? There’s probably lots of old manufacturing equipment and parts lying around.”
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