Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Toshiko took him along a winding path through jet black alleys and across mostly abandoned streets. Distant sirens echoed down the alleys and streets. For a while, it was all downhill, then she turned hard to the right and their trek became an uphill slog. On the plus side, the stench grew more tolerable with the steeper incline. That was just drainage at work. On the down side, they ran into more people in or near the alleyways.

Connor was ready for trouble, but something about Toshiko kept trouble at bay. She’d always been capable of taking care of herself.

Their pace had his heart pounding, his breathing fast. He was sweating.

Just as he was about to ask where they were going, they exited an alley across from a building that was taller than most. Brutishly simple in design, the place looked like a cube of granite carved into four stories. Draped windows along the front were barely framed in soft light, which was enough to reveal a welcome sameness in color: no slimy stains and spatters. That care and the solidity of the design gave the place the vibe of a fortress.

His eyes itched: the building was transmitting a request to his contact lenses. He accepted with a rapid double blink.

The building’s transmission reframed the image in an augmented reality overlay: its name and key data.

He straightened. “The Cave?”

Toshiko twisted around, one eyebrow arched and the corner of her mouth curled up in a smirk. “Unofficially. Most people see it as Night Crane, a respectable and boring hotel. You’re with me, so you’re getting the real deal.”

“This is where you do business?”

“One of the places, yeah. For this job, it’s ideal.”

As she jogged across the cracked pavement, the building’s front door flashed from a warning red of locked to a soft green of welcome. It swung open when her step came down a meter away.

Connor hurried in after her.

It was dim in the breezeway and smelled like harsh detergents. A tray slid out on the left wall, and a virtual reality sign lit above it: Shoes, please.

He kicked his soiled sneakers off and slid them into the tray next to hers. She peeled her socks off and tossed them into a bin in the corner; Connor did the same. There was a small, shallow, submerged pool of a dark fluid just in front of the inner door.

Toshiko stepped into the liquid and waved for him to join her. Jets kicked on, and the warm fluid bubbled as it washed their feet. Seconds later, the inner door opened, and they stepped onto a plush mat that absorbed the cleanser when they wiped their feet.

Inside, the place was even dimmer. A blood red door to the left was labeled: Manager. A kiosk glowed a warm amber, welcoming them before spitting out two pair of rubber sandals fashioned to look like bamboo.

Toshiko slipped hers on and nodded toward the lifts in the hallway beyond the entry. “Fourth floor.”

When the lift car door closed, Connor realized just how bad his clothes smelled. He winced. “You live down here?”

“I work down here.”

“And home?”

“The next step up. The Meadows. Like Sang’s basement, y’know. It’s nicer than down here, but it’s about half the cost of living up there.”

Connor had only ever been to Mara as a young man, and then he’d only been to Sang and Louden, the capital city about six hours northwest. That had been enough to convince him he wasn’t meant for the busy world.

It had also been enough to show him just how corrupt the Directorate was.

The lift chimed when they reached the fourth floor, and a young man with a painted face and dressed in a tight-fitting outfit stepped in, then backed out quickly, face pinched in disgust.

Toshiko led Connor out. As he passed the streetwalker, Connor shrugged. “Sorry about that.”

But the young man didn’t care about the apology. He waved it away and pressed the virtual call button for the other car, fists now resting on his narrow hips, sandaled foot tapping impatiently.

Their room was at the end of the hall, on the right. The door opened for Toshiko, and she didn’t waste any time getting inside. When Connor closed the door behind him, she pointed to the open bathroom door. “Clean up. And give me your clothes.”

“I’m not staying here long.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I’m not conducting business with someone who smells like they fell through a storm drain. The guy who runs this place can get those cleaned up fast. He knows people.”

Connor emptied his pockets, careful to set his belongings—his wallet, pocket computer, and the multicolored security chits he kept on a ring—on the small dresser top in a familiar pattern. Next to those, he set the rail gun pistol. He trusted Toshiko, but that didn’t mean he had to be stupid.

Toshiko leaned against the bathroom doorframe as he stripped. “Those were Umbra agents.”

He handed her his jacket. “I figured that much. Slivers, I’m guessing.”

“Whatever. Assassins are assassins. If you’ve got Umbra coming after you, that’s a problem. Who’d you tick off?”

“Everyone.”

“Because you were stupid enough to follow Wentz.” She snatched his shirt from him when he held it out. “We had a good thing going, you know.”

“Toshiko—”

She snapped her fingers. “Pants. Hurry it up.”

He almost laughed when she made a gagging sound and took a towel to wrap the clothes bundle. But it was painful the way the people of Sang couldn’t settle for figuratively crapping all over Winter.

The shower water was surprisingly hot and tasted like it had been put through a real purification process. When the soap foamed from the nozzle, the stall filled with the sweet scent of a woodland in spring.

Toshiko handed him a fresh towel when he was done, never looking away as he dried. “Why’d you come back to Talon if everyone wants to kill you?”

“It wasn’t my call.”

“Really? No jobs in Coil Sector? Don’t they have violence out there?”

“They do. Mara was…closer.”

She was right. There was plenty of work in the Coil. Sixteen star systems full of threat and situations needing resolution…he could’ve found a job easily. But he couldn’t tell her why he’d come to probably the most dangerous world in the galaxy for him for one simple reason: He didn’t know.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and followed her out to the bed, which was the only other piece of furniture besides the dresser. The bedspread was a dull blue shot through with faded gold designs. When he sat beside her on the end, the mattress gave beneath his weight. At least everything smelled clean.

Toshiko pulled a roll of thin plastic from inside of her jacket and unrolled the clear material over her thighs, creating a rectangle a half meter on either side.

When she took out a pocket computer and turned it on, the plastic sheet turned black and went rigid. “Five hundred an hour for access to the Net.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, well, payment’s up front. I told you, it’s over between us. No favors.”

He crossed to the dresser, barely registered that his wallet had been moved, then tapped his pocket computer. Five hundred was going to wipe him out, but just like coming to Mara hadn’t been a choice, payment wasn’t a choice.

A fingerprint authorized the payment.

The woman sniffled. “Thanks.”

When he settled beside her, the underground network lit the screen on her lap. There were blue, green, red, and yellow squares with basic descriptions hovering over them: Wetwork; Retrieval; Transport; Insertion/Extraction. Maybe a hundred options were visible.

Toshiko pushed the palm of her hand toward the display, and more jobs appeared, but most were faded—someone had taken the jobs.

She pulled her hand back, and the view rotated to a smaller number of jobs, none of which were faded out. “These are your options. You can thumb in your credentials, and we’ll see who’s interested.”

He pressed his right thumb against the rigid plastic.

Most of the jobs faded out. Another batch disappeared. Then another. Finally, only two jobs remained on the screen. When he tapped the icons to pull up details, the air went out of him.

Connor bowed his head. “Those are crap.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect? Your reputation precedes you.”

“I thought this was all anonymous?”

“The Net? That’s a pile of lies. Your credentials have enough reputation built around them, people don’t need to know your exact identity to know they don’t want your trouble.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “And you are trouble.”

“I really need this. Money’s tight.”

“So sorry. It’s gonna get worse when they get a look at you.”

He winced. “That was years ago. No one cares anymore.”

“Look, if you’ve got Umbra assassins coming after you, word’s out. The Directorate wants you dead—that’s what people care about.”

“Can I ask you for a favor? For old times?”

Toshiko powered the display down and pushed up from the bed. She didn’t look up from rolling the plastic up. “There are no old times, remember? Not for me. Not after you left me like that. Anyway, you can rent a girl on credit if that big-nosed lady won’t give it up.”

“Big-nose—” Right. Toshiko had been in his wallet. She’d poked around in his life.

But that wasn’t what he’d meant.

He sighed. “Never mind. Can you get me my clothes?”

“It won’t be long now.” She crossed her arms and scowled at him. “She’ll just have to wait.”