Mars Time: 18:55, February 17, 2295

  The Slumbering Mantis Inn, Lane 37, Alfalfa Street, Dragon District, Xing Hong

  "Aaaand that's sent. Guess we'll wait and see..." Xin lowered his Nucleus Watch, but his eyes drifted back to the holographic advertisement hovering above his wrist.

  The 'Bedchamber Valkyrie' gazed out from the projection with piercing blue eyes, her shoulder-length blonde hair artfully tousled. She wore elaborate black leather that was more suggestion than clothing: strategic straps and golden chains creating a harness that emphasized her cleavage and toned ivory shoulders. A sapphire pendant nested between her breasts, matching smaller gems at her throat and wrists. The tagline floated in yellow and garish green next to her ivory countenance: LONELY? I AM HERE FOR YOU.

  Back in his Rigger days, he'd taken contracts programming content delivery for sex workers: Comfort Birds, Leased Lilies and others. The platform took its 28% cut whether the work was glamorous or not.

  The work had trained him to spot artificial perfection in escort ads. Adult content contracts paid poorly but consistently. There were always rich people on the Extranet looking for sex with a dream girl, and the algorithm didn't care if the work made you feel like you needed a shower afterward.

  But this one…

  The woman—a Nordling, judging by her features—didn't have that glossy, dreamy, fake feel that most Leased Lilies radiated. There was something raw in her posture. The way she held the coffee cup suggested exhaustion rather than seduction, and her eyes, like twin deep oceans of sapphire, carried a hardness that expensive neural editing couldn't fake.

  But that was it. She was one of the dozens of women on the Extranet he had sent out messages to. He'd never gotten any response from any. Perhaps this Nordling lady would just be another one of the phantoms in cyberspace, enchanting but ethereal. He expected that life would be back to its modest normality before anything came out of his message—

  "Pappa!"

  The innocent chirp yanked Xin from his trance. On the table beside his plate, H?kon stood on his hind legs, barely fifteen centimeters tall even at full stretch. The little Diabolisk was no bigger than Xin's hand, his lizard-like body covered in delicate scales that had shifted to azure—his curious color. His head, large for his tiny frame, tilted up at Xin with luminous blue eyes that was adorably big for a creature that could fit in a coffee mug.

  Tiny claws, each no longer than a rice grain, clutched a piece of paper that looked massive in his grip. His small jaw opened in what Xin knew was a smile, rows of needle-sharp teeth that would be terrifying if they weren't so miniature.

  "Hey, buddy." Xin scratched behind H?kon's head ridge with one finger, earning a pleased trill that sounded like a cricket mixed with a cat's purr. The little guy's short tail swayed contentedly. "Sorry, got distracted."

  H?kon thrust the paper forward proudly, having to use both front claws to manage its weight. He'd drawn wobbly circles in green crayon with a stick figure. It looked like Xin, identifiable by rectangular glasses. A smaller blob with spikes—H?kon himself—stood next to the stick figure, though in his drawing he'd made himself almost as tall as Xin rather than the palm-sized creature he actually was.

  "HAW-koon drew. Good-good! Pappa keep?" H?kon pointed at the circles with one claw before handing the paper to Xin, like entrusting a rare treasure to a dear friend.

  "No problem." Xin carefully folded the drawing and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "I'll keep this drawing safe for you. We'll pin it on the wall when we get home, yeah?"

  "Good good." The baby Radi-Mon bobbed his reptilian head approvingly before attempting longer words, tiny mandibles mangling the words adorably. "Im-por-tan…arrrrssst?"

  "Art." Xin held up a hand encouragingly, pronouncing it slowly. "Im-por-tant. Art."

  "Im-po-tent alt!" H?kon repeated eagerly.

  "Almost there. Im-porrrr-tant. Arrr-t. Xin repeated the correct pronounciation, slowly this time, looking at those shimmering blue eyes.

  "Im-por-tant. Art." H?kon raised a claw as he pronouced carefully this time.

  "Yes!" Xin made a small clap. "Good job!"

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  "Im-por-tant art. Important art!" H?kon held up both claws now, enormously pleased with himself.

  "Alrighy. Smart boy's dumplings. Here." Iron Roach's gravelly voice preceded him. The barkeeper set down a plate of exactly twenty pork-cabbage dumplings, same as always. "Eat 'em while they're hot."

  "Thank you, Roach."

  Xin took in the man as he raised his Watch to pay. Iron Roach, though a fellow Imperial, lived up to his nickname—silver-grey hair slicked back from a face that was more scar tissue than skin, wraparound sunglasses hiding whatever passed for eyes these days. A black leather jacket stretched across shoulders broad enough to break doors, studded with enough metal to set off weapon scanners. The geometric tattoos on his neck disappeared into his collar, hinting at more extensive modifications beneath.

  As Roach turned away, his heavy boots making the floorboards creak, Xin heard him call across the common room. "Shazmeen! Wanna take a break tonight."

  "And gamble your precious money away?" Shazmeen's voice carried silk and steel in equal measure. Xin glanced over to see the innkeeper emerge from behind the bar. Where Roach was all hard edges, Shazmeen Vinh curved like smoke—dark hair pinned in an elaborate style, deep burgundy outfit that managed to be both modest and magnetic. Gold gleamed at her throat and wrists, but her eyes gleamed sharper.

  "Dragon's dongs, Shaz, we got three customers all day!" Roach gestured around the nearly empty inn. "You don't need me."

  "The bounty hunters will come for Board Seven. That's when we'll get business." She moved closer, and Xin caught a whiff of expensive perfume—jasmine and something darker.

  "Your business. Those horny fucks want your Leased Lily services upstairs."

  "High-level hunters are coming tonight. If things get rough..." Her hand found Roach's cybernetic fingers. "I need you to keep me safe."

  Roach's grunt could have meant anything, but he stayed.

  Xin turned back to his dumplings, cutting them open to cool before offering one to H?kon. The little Diabolisk accepted with both claws, taking delicate bites while they watched a cartoon about a brave monk fighting geometric shapes using all manners of kung fu moves. Safe, simple content that wouldn't give H?kon nightmares.

  An uneventful but harmonious hour passed as they lingered in each other's company, like father and son.

  The cartoon rolled its credits, its daily content wrapping up as H?kon clapped and trilled happily.

  "That was good. Right, boy?" Xin managed a smile as he stroked H?kon's back.

  But then, something unexpected happened.

  "Pappa, look!" H?kon's scales flashed gold—his happy color—as he pointed out the wooden window. "Pretty lady!"

  "Hmm?" Xin lifted his head, squinting through the glass. A woman in a trench coat paced among the crowd starting to gather around Bounty Board #7. The beige coat wouldn't normally stand out—half of Xing Hong wore desert colors to blend with the Martian landscape. But that blonde hair, like a flaxon in the afternoon sun...

  He caught her profile as she checked her Nucleus Watch. Sharp jawline, angular features that could cut glass, eyes the color of Earth's old oceans. Her face was healthy ivory, like fresh fallen snow.

  The probability of another person on Mars having that exact combination of features was effectively zero.

  "It's... her?" The whisper escaped before he could stop it.

  The Bedchamber Valkyrie stood at the corner of Alfalfa Street like she owned it, the evening crowd unconsciously giving her space. Her half-up hairstyle was severe enough for a boardroom, casual enough for a bar fight. The deep blue turtleneck clung in ways that suggested both athletic muscle and dangerous curves. That trench coat probably cost more than Xin made in three months, but she wore it like a second skin.

  Three years of watching his Rigger rating slide from 4.2 to 3.7, taking whatever scraps ZenFu's algorithm threw his way. Bargain-bin bounty hunting by night when the contracts dried up. Keeping his head down, raising H?kon, getting ghosted on dating apps by women who wanted either six-figure salaries or six-pack abs.

  He'd sent that message expecting it to disappear into the digital void like all the others.

  But here she was. Actually here.

  Their eyes met through the window.

  Xin's hand rose in an awkward wave before his brain caught up. Heat rushed to his face.

  She looked away, then back. Her expression shifted. Curiosity? Assessment? Threat evaluation? Xin wished he could read women better.

  She moved toward the inn with the kind of stride that'd make grown men reconsider their life choices.

  The door chimed. Cold air and lavender followed her in.

  "So you're the 'X' guy?" Her voice could frost glass. "The one who wrote that creepy analysis of my ad?"

  "Tengu's arse, Xin!" Roach's voice boomed from behind the bar. "Never told me this hot bomb was your girlfriend!"

  "What!?" Sigrun whirled on Roach, sapphire eyes wide with horror.

  "No, no! She's not—" Xin raised a hand but it was too late.

  "Listen, Sigrun." Roach's cybernetic hand whirred as he pointed at her, flashing a grin that had probably been charming before the scar tissue. "Everyone here buys a meal. But YOU? Free dumplings. On the house!"

  "I ate already, Roach. Thanks, though." She turned back to Xin with an expression like someone seeing gum on their shoe. "Well, I'm here now, 'X.' What do you want?"

  "H-hello!" Xin's voice cracked like he was thirteen again. He cleared his throat. "T-thanks for coming! Eagle District's pretty far, huh—"

  "Pretty lady smell like sleepy sky." H?kon stretched forward, tiny nostrils flaring. "Sky lady!"

  "Lavender. From my PHC." She touched her hair defensively. "That your Radi-Mon?"

  "This is H?kon. A Diabolisk. Got him from—a mentor." Xin gestured to the vibrating bundle of scales. "Say hi, buddy."

  "Hello!" H?kon waved enthusiastically.

  Sigrun almost smiled before her armor snapped back. "Why call yourself 'X'?"

  "That's my Extranet handle. Real name's Zhi-Xin Wu. People call me Xin." He pushed his glasses up nervously. "Your name's pretty unique too. Sig-run, right? Hope I pronounced it right. Nordling names are so beautiful, aren't they—"

  "SIG-roon." She corrected, crossing her arms, the motion pulling her coat tight across toned shoulders. "And if you're about to say something about Valkyries or Nordic mythology, I'll chop your head off."

  The temperature between them seemed to drop five degrees.