I think it’s starting to kick in now, the changes. Or, at least, that’s my impression. I had a thought while driving home just now… How happy I used to be with Jackie around. I wonder why that is. It’s not like I told him much, a fact I still beat myself up over for some reason.

  Actually, that’s a good point, why didn’t I tell him anything… Can I even remember? Did I have any logic in the first place beyond not wanting to burden the friendship with my baggage? Was it just habit? How would I even know?

  Whatever. Who cares. I have to get going anyway. Don’t want to miss my appointment with… Uh, what the fuck was this guy’s name again… Oh, River Ward. Man, I gotta get my Agent working again so I can just record this fucking journal as I go along… Maybe Judy knows a hack for it to keep it from trying to connect to the Net to update.

  It’s been a little while since I heard from her. I hope everything’s alright with Clouds. I’m assuming she’s probably got Suzie Q tied up in a knot over getting Mox support. Or maybe she’s just that good and swayed her right away. Honestly, neither would surprise me, considering the level of respect she commands at that place, plus her reputation. They don’t call her ‘Punchin’ Judy’ for nothing.

  Heh, speak of the devil, she’s calling as soon as I pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Great timing. “Judy, hey,” I answered the phone, climbing out of Miyoko and heading down by the flood wall, “What’s new?”

  “Oh, y’know, same ol’ same ol’. You?” Well at least she sounds like she’s in better spirits, that’s a good sign.

  “Funny, I was actually just thinking about you,” I chuckled involuntarily.

  “Hm? So do I got some great timin’, or you always thinkin’ about me?” she teased.

  “Hey now, never said what kinds of thoughts they were,” I shot right back.

  “Bah, I’m just surprised you remembered me at all, considerin’ everything else goin’ on,” she said with an audible breath into the speaker, “Anyway, I got a favor to ask…”

  “Yeah, of course, everything alright?”

  “Mhm, yeah, for the most part,” she replied with another hard breath, “This is somethin’ different, though. Guarantee you’ve never had a job like this.”

  “Sounds interesting,” I said with a certain measure of curiosity, “This gonna be another outing with Rita? If so then count me in.”

  “Hah! Feisty, aren’t we?” she laughed, “You’re on a need-to-know basis. All I’ll say is it’s gonna be the two of us. No need for your sword, either. And I’ll provide the wetsuit.”

  “The… wetsuit?” I raised an eyebrow, “Uh… why a wetsuit?”

  “Can’t back out now, heheh,” she chuckled again, “Just gonna have to come ‘n see for yourself.”

  “Alright, uh, well where are we meeting this time, your apartment?”

  “Dam out past Rancho Coronado, know the place?” I’ve buried my share of bodies out there.

  “Yeah, a bit too well,” I mumbled, “Why? And wait, which dam, the Petrochem one or the NC Dam?”

  “NC. There’s an abandoned bungalow lakeside. Meet me there tomorrow evening, yeah?”

  “Sure…” I paused briefly, “Uh… I gotta ask. Is this a date?”

  “Guess you’ll have to find out… We’ll have to,” she sighed, “See ya, V.”

  Hm… A lakeside bungalow. Guessing she’d want me to spend the night there… And the day after’s gonna be the parade, so I’m barely even gonna have time to myself. This’ll be one hell of a busy weekend… Oh, great, and I forgot about my hormones, too. Fuck, I didn’t think I’d make it this long that I’d actually have to worry about a refill of my regulator. Guess I should pay Vik a visit, too, just to add to the long list of shit that needs doing. Joy.

  I was so tempted to just get back in my car and go driving off somewhere and completely ignore River. Fucker would probably just sit in that booth all day until I came back, knowing my luck. Alright, fine…

  I had to quickly remind myself what this was even about. Jefferson Peralez wants me to look into the previous mayor’s death, suspecting foul play. And this River guy seems to know something. Hell, if he’s half as smart as I’m expecting, he might even have some advice for me and my situation. I could use all the out-of-the-box thinking I can get, seeing as I’m not about to let Arasaka probe around my brain anytime soon.

  Man, I wonder what living in his position must’ve been like. Here I was thinking to myself that the top I could accomplish was moving into my polyhedral office in the Tower. Congratulations, welcome to the rest of your life, V. But for Peralez, the sky must’ve been the limit. And to think that I gave all that up, and now here we are helping others accomplish what I myself saw as a hindrance at one point, now a source of jealousy. Maybe it’s not Peralez, per se, but rather the fact that I could’ve had all that, but didn’t, that’s pissing me off – I ruined my own life and I’m reaping the consequences of my own hubris, and I hate myself for everything. Or maybe I just got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning… Whatever.

  Chubby’s isn’t exactly picky about what it has on the menu; just about any sort of scop can pass as a burger with enough beating into shape. Gotta give ‘em credit, though, it tastes preem, even if it makes me have to shit so hard that I hear colors. Better skip the meal for today.

  Oh, yeah, there he is. Still wearing that same fur coat as well – isn’t he hot in that? It’s like 40 degrees outside, fuck. Though I guess I’m not the person to ask about fashion, considering my usual wardrobe consists of black or blacker. And he’s sitting with someone else – didn’t realize this was a group party. But I’m not about to say no to an extra brain.

  “Hm, looks like someone’s here to see you,” the man sitting opposite him said as I came up and gave River a courteous, light bow of my head.

  “Wonder what about…” River muttered in return, looking up at me before sipping his coffee.

  “River Ward, correct?” I asked him.

  “In the flesh. V, right?” he replied earnestly as he set the cup back down and cupped his hands, “My partner, Detective Han.”

  “Pleased to meet you both,” I said with a polite smile, “Thanks for agreeing to meet.”

  “Hmph, nice sword,” Han grunted dismissively before turning back to River, “You really intend to work with a merc?”

  “Don’t know what I intend just yet.” River’s voice had a quiet determination about it. I can tell he’s more driven that the average lawman, certainly a plus. “For now, gonna see if I hear anything new about Rhyne’s death.”

  That’s… more casual than I expected of him to say. This isn’t exactly an interrogation room. I thought we were at least gonna head somewhere more secure before discussing sensitive information, but fuck it, let’s just do it right here in a diner for anyone who cares to listen. Not my neck on the chopping block.

  “You back on that? Boss already told you to drop it. Don’t make him say it again, you know he hates saying the same thing twice,” Han scolded his partner, “And if you couldn’t give a rat’s fat ass about any of that, heed my advice, as your friend. Just let the case go.” I doubt that’d work on River, but I applaud him for trying.

  “See me doin’ anything?” River grinned, taking another sip of his coffee, “Just sittin’ here, drinkin’ coffee, listenin’ to gossip.”

  “Fine, do what you want,” Han scoffed as he got up and knocked into Shinden as he moved past, “Fuck, that hurt… Anyway, I’m not gonna be a part of this. Gotta go get my little girl anyway. At least find a quieter corner if you don’t wanna be overheard.”

  “Hey!” I shouted, brushing Shinden’s saya off, but Han didn’t say a word, just left. “Wow, that’s rude…” If we were back in Japan and I wasn’t in a good mood, I’d have his head on the chopping block for that shit. It’s considered extremely rude to touch a samurai’s swords without permission, much less bumping into them like that.

  I removed Shinden and inspected the saya for scuff marks, brushing the area he hit with a balled fist and wiping it down with my shirt. “Sorry,” I groaned as I took a seat across from River and turned to the waitress, “Can I get a black coffee, please?”

  “Sure,” she smiled and turned around, giving us the chance to talk for a little.

  “So, talk,” he prompted me as I laid Shinden on my lap and accepted the coffee, paying the woman plus a generous tip for putting up with this crap.

  “Before the attack, you tried to barge in and inform the hustle about some sort of information, what was it?” I asked as I took a sip, “Mm– mmph… Christ, that’s hot…”

  “Let me ask you a question first,” he retorted, “Why do you got your nose in this, who hired you?”

  “The Peralez’s,” I told him honestly, “Elizabeth, specifically.”

  “Ah, the presumed mayor and his wife, guess that makes sense…” he nodded before looking around, “Know what, Han was right. Acoustics’re a little too good in here. Come on, got my car outside.”

  “Sure, I’ll be out in a couple minutes, just gonna finish this coffee,” I replied before having another sip.

  “Nah, come on,” he got up and motioned me to come along, “For how much I’m payin’ for this truck every month, it better have some good cupholders.”

  “Hah, fair,” I chuckled, collecting my stuff and walking out with him. Looks like he owns the massive pickup truck parked directly out in front. Actually quite a handsome looking vehicle, too. I’m so used to seeing them all beefed out of their minds that I’m not accustomed to the look of one that’s just factory-fresh like this. The door even opened with a satisfying, chunky sound to it.

  River paused and waited for me to get settled before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Some of the boys from the precinct saw Horváth around Arroyo, shootin’ up dumpsters, hollerin’ how he’s gonna meet with the new mayor. Brought ‘im in.”

  I stopped him before he went on. “Sorry, Horváth?”

  “Yup, Péter Horváth, your cyberpsycho,” he clarified, “They took him downtown, but he got ‘lost’ before he could give his statement.”

  “Got lost?” I furrowed my brow, “But I don’t get it. Why not just call MaxTac? Why try and take him on yourself?”

  “Wasn’t a hundred percent sure he’d be there,” he shrugged, “But I do know that someone didn’t want him counting roaches in his cell that day. And before you ask me, no, I got no idea who.” Suddenly he turned to look at me, his cybereye still focused on the road as he talked. “My turn. Why’s Peralez lookin’ into this now? Why’s he want it done unofficial, on the hush-hush?”

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  “Want my answer, or his?”

  “Yours,” he demanded.

  “Alright, uhm,” I thought, glancing into the foggy distance, “Well my impression is that he probably doesn’t know who to trust. Thinking about it now, what stood out to me was that he went out of his way to ask someone outside his own security company. Considering that same company was the one who provided him with the scroll in the first place, I’m guessing he wanted them to know nothing about our meeting.”

  “Ah, the scroll from the event,” he nodded, “Go on.”

  “Well, just a crap-shoot here,” I shrugged in return, “But I think that he probably suspects someone higher up in the food chain. He didn’t go to his private security, didn’t go to the NCPD, he went to me. Some random Japanese mercenary who was recommended by a friend. So he’s either really stupid or really desperate, and I’m inclined to think the latter.”

  “Nothin’ I didn’t already suspect before meetin’ you,” River pondered out loud, “Anything else you see on the scroll?”

  “Yeah, Red Queen’s Race. You know it?”

  “Maybe I have,” he teased me, clutching his fist around the steering wheel, “Why, got somethin’ to do with Rhyne?”

  “Mhm,” I nodded to him, “He was headed there the day he died.”

  “Interesting,” River muttered, “Alright, gonna go see my CI. Works at a sex shop in the Glen downtown. All I heard is that Red Queen’s Race is some fancy-ass club. But he’ll know more. Then we’ll go talk to the woman Horváth worked for.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  –

  Christ, the sun was already setting by the time we got to the shop. Figures that a cop would drive like an old lady. Here I thought they blazed through traffic like a bunch of lunatics because who’s gonna tell them no… My mistake, I guess.

  “Can’t shake this case…” River confessed to me, “Somethin’s up. Just look how quickly it was closed.”

  “Yeah, it’s only been, what, a couple weeks?”

  “Somethin’ this high profile?” River continued, “Nah. We gotta get somethin’ that’ll make my chief need to reopen it.”

  “Alright, so what’s this guy have to offer for us?” I asked him in return.

  “His name’s Neil. He’s the proud proprietor of this establishment. Got his nose in everyone’s business. Plus, he’s a coward – perfect combo. With any hope, a location on this mystery club of ours. Probably won’t get much more’n that,” he shrugged, “Just go in and tell ‘im Igor says hello. He’ll know what it’s about. I would, but, uh… things didn’t go so well the last time. You might have better luck gettin’ him to talk. At least, voluntarily…” Jeez, sounds like River’s got a bit of a mean streak going on.

  “Fine, wait here, then,” I instructed as I got out of the truck, clipping Shinden back into place and heading into the shop.

  I was met – no, assaulted – by pure sensory overload. No fewer than five TVs blasting different flavors of smut on the screen at once, all with the volume cranked up to max. s blared out across the walls, begging me to purchase specialized implants and Midnight Lady kits for my boobs.

  Heh, thanks. As if I want my tits to glow in the dark, or emanate lightning bolts. I wonder how that’d even feel… What would happen if I brushed up against a copper wire. Would I just electrocute myself? Would they make someone’s hair stand straight up? So many questions…

  Alright, enough distractions. As oddly curious as some of these, uh, devices are, I’m here on business, not pleasure.

  “Good afternoon. You lookin’ for general inspiration, or, uh, somethin’ specific?” Neil said to me as I approached the counter, “Cause I got both.”

  “Actually I’m looking for information,” I clarified to him, “I’m looking for Red Queen’s Race. Heard from a friend you might be familiar with it.”

  “Red Queen’s– If I were you, I’d try somewhere a little more… welcoming. Lizzie’s Bar in Kabuki, for starters. Maybe Clouds in Japantown.” Not sure it’s a good idea for me to go to Clouds right now. Guess he didn’t read the screamsheets.

  “This isn’t a request,” I told him bluntly.

  “Look, you can’t just go there, club’s invitation-only. No invitation, you don’t get in, understand?” he said fervently, “Who told you about this place, anyway?”

  Fine, guess I gotta do this the hard way. “Igor. He says hello, by the way.”

  “What?!” he stammered, “N-no… I said I was out!” And there he goes, running off behind the store… Not that it’d take all that much effort to catch up to his fat ass. “Leave me the fuck alone!” Neil shouted as he desperately ran down the alley next to the shop before bumping into none other than River Ward with his massive, fuck-off revolver. Damn, that’s a pretty firearm.

  “Hey, Neil,” River grunted at him.

  “Fuuuck…” He looked like he was a rat caught in a trap. “Piss off!”

  “Relax, just got one question to ask you,” River demanded, pointing the revolver straight at Neil’s temple. An onlooker suddenly stopped and eyeballed the commotion, drawing River’s attention. “Nothin’ to see here, sir,” he blurted out, “Ghost, I said!” That sent the guy scurrying away in a hurry.

  “C-can’t make me do a damn thing!” Neil stuttered.

  “I repeat. Red Queen’s Race,” I said calmly, “Tell me the address and we’re gone.”

  “Heard that the last time,” he sneered at me, “Then those fuckers showed up and broke my fingers!” Funny, his fingers look fine to me…

  “Really? Seems they didn’t do a good job,” I grimaced, slowly drawing Shinden from the saya, “Now I could just effortlessly cut them off, but I think I’ll use the blunt end instead. I heard it’s far more painful. Having your bone jutting out at an odd angle, penetrating through the skin like that. Maybe I’ll cut off your right fingers and crush your left, we’ll do a little experiment, how’s that sound?”

  “W-what the fuck?!” Neil started shaking as I held the blunt end of Shinden up to his face, “F-fine! It’s outside city limits! Bonita Street, near the river! B-big warehouse across from the container yard!”

  “I know the place,” I smiled, “Thanks, you’ve been a doll. Now get the fuck out of here.” Neil obliged with aplomb. I never seen someone with his body type run so fast in my life.

  “Well, well, that’s what I call a breakthrough,” River nodded to me, “Good work. Next up is Horváth’s employer.”

  –

  The Cherry Blossom Market. Hmph. I honestly really like this place, it reminds me of the bazaars we had set up in the Concrete River. Just a bunch of ad-hoc merchants who set up shop in seemingly random locations, making navigation a huge pain. You had to squeeze between stalls to get anywhere, though we did have a couple of de-facto lanes for foot traffic. Ah, the perks of late-stage capitalism.

  This place wasn’t much different in its execution. It began life as a plaza before being slowly taken over by unlicensed merchants. I guess the NCPD had better things to do than harassing people trying to make a living, and they’ve left the place alone ever since.

  “A good ninety percent of any detective’s job is talking,” River elaborated as we got out of the truck and headed into the market proper, “How about we change tacks this time? Questions first, swords later?”

  “Ninety percent?” I raised an eyebrow, “And what’s the other ten percent?”

  “Paperwork…” he sighed after a brief pause, “Alright, I’ll take the left, you take the right. Person we’re looking for is one Christine Markov, she’ll be running one of the stalls, most likely.”

  “No problem,” I nodded, splitting off and heading down the right-side lane, asking vendor after vendor. Food smelled amazing right now, but no dice on Christine Markov. No one was even saying a word – an unsurprising level of solidarity.

  Hm… music. Where’s that coming from…

  Wait… Oh. A street performer? That’s funky. Looks like he’s really into it as well. “Here, c'mon, V. Enough of this filler episode crap. Listen to that guy,” Johnny appeared, sitting on the man’s effects, “How’d you rate his chops?”

  “Doesn’t sound half-bad, actually,” I conceded, “I don’t really know a lot about music. But I can tell he’s not just playing for the sake of it.”

  “Oh? How do you mean?”

  “Look at him,” I glanced down, admiring the man’s performance, “The way his head’s bobbing.”

  “Mm,” Johnny nodded in agreement, “Guy’s hurtin’, got somethin’ he can’t take.”

  “Being a dancer’s not too dissimilar,” I thought out-loud, “I guess, in a way, all art is. With music like that, you lose yourself playing it. And if you’re any good, you’ll make other people lose themselves by listening.”

  “Well said,” Johnny admitted, “He’s off to a good start. Could use a bit of stage presence. Work on the tempo, finger positioning.”

  “Can I ask you something, Johnny?” I said to him as he teleported to the other side of the gentleman, “Where’d you get your start? Same setup? Sitting atop a lone amplifier on a street corner, playing tunes for passersby?”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” he retorted, “Had no time for playin’ my way to the top. Too busy shakin’ the world awake.”

  I placed my hand on my hip, grinning at him. “Hm, spoken like a true failed artist. Last time I checked, Samurai never made it past the sleazy bar and club gigs phase.”

  “Know what, you’re right,” he said honestly, surprising me enough to make my eyes open wide, “World’s still the same shitstorm it always was. Corps runnin’ the show. Ice cubes are 25 eddies a pop. Sleazebags diggin’ their grubby hands in our pockets to line theirs…” Johnny stopped thought, raising his hand and thinking to himself, “But if you think we ever wanted to be the next teen idol, go the popularity route, you got another thing comin’. Fuck that and all that commercial shit!”

  “At least you found some success,” I said empathetically, “You got some gigs, had some fans. Even sometimes see the odd graffiti art with your name on it.”

  “True. Played in bars, old factories, shitty clubs, anywhere we could, really…” he reminisced, “Had an audience from the start. Some of ‘em recorded our shit, not even knowin’ who we were.”

  Oh, that gives me an idea… “Hmmm… You know, I have a turntable. Think any of that’s still floating around?”

  “After all these years? Fuck knows,” he rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, “Hmm… You know, Rainbow Cadenza was in this plaza back in the old days. Club we played at ‘fore everything went to shit. Great spot, people with their heads on straight. Maybe after this shit’s over, we can go pay ‘em a visit.” I’d never heard of any club called Rainbow Cadenza… But I’m not exactly a musician, so what would I know about underground clubs. Hell, I never heard of Red Queen’s Race, either, and it’s apparently pretty fucking exclusive, so…

  “Hey,” River caught up to me, “There you are. C’mon, found our girl. Runs an electronic junk shop in front of the ramen place.” Man, I could go for some ramen right now… Few bowls’ worth would really hit the spot.

  We both headed about halfway down the market stalls, though I was surprised he didn’t say anything about me getting distracted for a couple minutes by the music. I guess he assumed I was still asking around… oops.

  “Christine Markov?” he started off, talking to the glazed woman behind the counter. She didn’t even bother facing our direction, tinkering with an old radio set instead. I respect that.

  “You badges?” she asked bluntly, speaking Polish, I think.

  “We’re looking for information on Péter Horváth, I understand he’s a former employee of yours,” I explained to her.

  “Yeah, he was,” she groaned, “Then he stopped workin’. Started makin’ all those damned political speeches all the time.”

  “Was that weird for him?” I pressed, “When did all this start, specifically?”

  “Look, with Péter, ‘weird’ doesn’t mean what it means with everybody else,” Christine elaborated, “He was never completely normal. But the post-jail and pre-jail gonks were gonks both, but completely different gonks.”

  “Was he always that chromed up when he was working with you?” I asked her, leaning on the side of the stall as she kept working to her heart’s content.

  “Nah, got all that chrome later.”

  “So where’d he get the eddies to pay for it all?” River chimed in.

  “Shit, if I knew that, I wouldn’t be sellin’ this scop here,” she fired back at him, “Told ya, he showed up one day packin’ all that. Extra worked-up, too. Asked him where he got it, myself, and he said someone’d finally seen what he was worth.”

  That doesn’t sound good. “These speeches – what’d he say?” I followed up.

  “Favorite motto – ‘Rhyne, corps got him by the balls and cock, but still managed to fuck me.’ Got creative with it on special occasions, too.”

  “Really?” I grimaced, “He hated Rhyne that much? Why?”

  “Hah, lookin’ for a reason in that whackjob?” she laughed, waving her screwdriver around, “Prolly thought Rhyne was talkin’ shit about him on TV or something. Promisin’ all sorts of shit, then ceasing to give a fuck. Look, it’s how he saw everybody. People in power were out to get ‘im. Classic nutcase if you ask me.”

  “And that’s it? Think hard,” River implored her.

  “Look, he was after easy money like the rest of us here. Worked for normals, not-so-normals, fuck knows. Now are we done here, detectives? You’re scarin’ away my customers.” Funny, I didn’t see anyone, but whatever, fine.

  We left with nothing but a vague hint. “So someone ‘finally saw what he was worth,’” I pondered, “The heck does that mean? The guy hated corpos, doesn’t seem like the trusting type.”

  “In this line of work, V, you’d be surprised at the spots you can squeeze someone into provided you butter ‘im up enough first,” River countered as we walked back to his truck, “Say, for instance, someone gets a headache. Minor detail, right? Usually, sure. But then the guy waltzes straight into oncoming traffic. The neighbor remembers someone was working on the guy’s air conditioner the day before. Could’ve been an aerosolized chemical agent. So, just a coincidence, or a deliberate hit?”

  “You ever work a case like that?” I asked him in disbelief.

  “Nah, but it illustrates my point–” he froze, tickling his revolver sat in the nook of his back. Tyger Claws. Two of them sat around his truck. As if this day couldn’t get any better… I’d not say no to ridding the world of a few more of these assholes.

  “Knew this was a pig wagon,” one of them blurted out, strolling up to the both of us as we approached, “Nice sword, doll. Hey pig, that your new output?”

  “Don’t,” he stopped me, sensing exactly what I was gonna do, “I got this.”

  “Alright…” I mumbled, staying my hand away from the handle.

  “Step aside, Lugg,” River demanded, puffing out his chest like some sort of mascot, “Your boyfriend got sent up for years. Wouldn’t want the same to happen to you.”

  “Oh, no no no,” the Claw shook his head, “Your new output’s gonna see what happens to piglets who just don’t get it. You refused to deal. You still owe us.”

  “Right, you did lose your only associate who knew how to string two sentences together,” River retaliated in-kind, “Too bad he liked diddling little kids… Here’s my offer. Get the fuck outta here, and I won’t arrest you as accessories in the murder of Mayor Rhyne, how’s that sound?”

  The main Claw scuffed and brushed his hand at us both, “Mmh, we’ll let it go this time, Ward. But it’s the last time.” Yeah, I bet. I still felt sorely tempted to plant my blade in their noggins as they walked off. But alas, a job’s a job.

  “Somebody’s popular,” I joked to him as they headed into the market and we continued towards his truck.

  “Hey, I’m a cop. Means I’m doin’ my job right, is what I say,” River said with a shrug as he climbed in, “Good thing nobody got killed, less paperwork involved. Next stop is Red Queen’s Race. You comin’ with?”

  “Can we stop and pick up my car beforehand?” I asked him, “I don’t have autodrive. Could use some of the tech I have in the trunk.”

  “Sure,” he nodded, opening the door with his massive reach, “Hop in.”