Alright, Miyoko. Once more into the fire we go.

  “So this is Pacifica in 2077…” Johnny muttered as he apparated on my left, “Seems that not much's changed. Looks like the perfect place for a gig, though.”

  “Hey, you’re more than welcome to. I’m sure the neighbors wouldn’t make any noise complaints here.”

  “Say, I got a better idea,” he told me with that characteristic sardonicism of his, “Why don’t we just keep on driving? Y’know, head off into the sunset together, forget all this shit.”

  “Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” I grumbled, “Well too bad. Now this is our final lead. After this, we move on to Plan B.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “I’ll let you know when it comes to me.”

  5:30PM, meeting's in a half-hour, perfect.

  This place smells like death warmed over. Some fucking church, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. I found it hard to believe that Evelyn actually made a deal with these people. I doubt that they’d trust a soul that wasn’t from there. This whole place was so incredibly incestuous with its power. So insular and controlling. They must’ve wanted this Relic badly if it meant having to ask for outside help.

  What was it about Alt…? I get that they’re using Johnny to get to her, but something still doesn’t add up. If Alt is long-dead, then what the hell would these people care?

  “I have a bad feeling about this, man,” I confessed to Johnny as I shut off the engine.

  “You got a bad feeling about a lotta shit,” he replied bluntly, “Ask me how I know.”

  “No, but seriously. They’re gonna try and fuck us. The same way they fucked Evelyn. We need to go prepared,” I sternly told him.

  “Oh? And how do you plan to do that? Gonna go in there and just pray they don’t infect you with some daemon bullshit?”

  “They need me. For now,” I explained, “Their plan is to extract the Relic. Or, at the very least, get the data off it. Meaning you – I’m just in the way. Of course, they’re gonna think I’m desperate. That I haven’t thought any of this through. We’ll use that. Play them as they think they’re playing us.”

  “And how’re we gonna do that? You said these people were basically cybergods.”

  “True. But they don’t know the Relic,” I told him flatly, opening up the glovebox. Inside was a special trinket – not one anyone else knew about. A crucifix necklace. “Jackie gave this to me about ten years back, you know. He told me to put it on for good luck. Said to me that God will always look out for me as long as I kept it.” I got out of the car and observed the meeting location in-person. Admittedly it didn't seem all that impressive, but looks can be deceiving here.

  “Mm,” Johnny grunted deeply, “Well one thing’s for sure, we’re gonna need all the luck we can get in there.”

  I grabbed my sword and my rapidly-aging cyberdeck from the trunk, strapping it on to my waist. “Kiyo, I know you’re gonna be with me for this one…”

  “Kiyo?” Johnny asked with quite a bit of sting, “You named your deck? How much random crap you got, anyway?”

  “Not much,” I replied flatly, “And Kiyo was its former owner. I’m no netrunner, in case that wasn’t obvious. So I left it to the professionals to do all the work for me. A bit of a relic considering she did it back in the 2060s, but it’s not like I have any better options, so I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Looks decent enough,” Johnny observed, “Then again, fuck do I know. If it was made after 2023, I got no fuckin' clue. Could be a worthless pile of shit.”

  “Frankly, I’ll sooner place my trust in something my black ops friend worked on than anything handed out at a street vendor,” I shrugged, turning on the device. Its hard drive whirred to life, vibrating on my left thigh. The cyberdeck was reassuringly heavy and robust, reminding me that it was there with the occasional subtle taps of movement.

  “Back in the day, Spider Murphy wrote this program she called the ‘Hydra,’ was the shit. Self-replicating ICE. Destroy one layer, it’d spawn in two identical layers further down. Good luck breaking through that shit,” he grinned, “She was a fuckin’ wizard. So if your friend’s got anything like that under the hood, then yeah, think we’ll be set.”

  “No guarantees, never really fired this thing up. Never saw the point before–” Oh, phone’s ringing… it’s Judy. Hm. “Judy? What’s up? You feeling okay?” I asked her as I got back in Miyoko for privacy.

  “Still shitty, thanks for asking… but somethin’ came to me.”

  “Come on, Jude,” I sighed into the phone, “You’re grieving. It’s only been a couple of days.”

  “I know. And that’s why I gotta do this,” she said with a certain determination in her voice, “You gonna hear me out?”

  “Judy, of course I’m gonna hear you out. What’s up?”

  “The Mox dive, Lizzie’s Bar, you know the story of how it came to be, right?”

  “Yeah, Lizzie got killed by the Tyger Claws, so the Mox took matters into their own hands and… wait, you mean to do the same with Clouds, don’t you?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Judy, the Mox’s takeover wasn’t pretty. A lot of people had to die for that to happen. A lot of dolls. Are you sure you thought this through?”

  “Pft, haven’t thought it through at all. All I know is the Mox didn’t turn things around by sittin’ on their tanned and toned asses, doin’ nothin’ about it.”

  “Oh come on, these aren’t trained combatants, these are dolls. You can’t expect them to take on a full-fledged gang like that, they’ll be slaughtered.”

  “That’s why I’m callin’ you first, V,” she spoke with a fire in her voice, “I can get the Mox on-board, but they won’t stand a chance without you. Least for the initial part. But you – I saw whatcha did in the basement of the power plant. I know you know what you’re doin’.”

  “Sure, but what happens after? It’s not like they won’t retaliate. Clouds will be a warzone.”

  “I know, I know,” she said with a sigh, “But don't worry. I got a plan for that. So you up for it or not?”

  “Of course I am - after what we’ve been through, that’s a given,” I said reassuringly.

  “Wooh… alright…” she breathed out with relief, “Then we just have one more hurdle to overcome. And it’s got a name - Maiko Maeda. If she’s not with us, then we can throw our hands up in the air.”

  “Maiko Maeda… You mentioned her once,” I thought back, “The manager at Clouds?”

  “Unofficial manager. She’s a doll, so she’s a nobody.”

  “And you know her well, I’m guessing?”

  “Too well,” she grunted.

  “Hmph…” Definitely an ex-girlfriend. No question about it. This just got interesting. “Why do I get the feeling that working with her is gonna be like working with Susan Abernathy…”

  “Who?”

  “Nevermind…” I sighed, pinching my nose, “Alright. Give me about a week. I have some business to take care of in Pacifica first. I'll call you when it's done.”

  “Will do,” she replied, “Be at Clouds soon morning, then. Balcony overlookin’ it, before eight. It’ll be closed - hardly a soul lurkin’ at that time.”

  “I’ll be there,” I nodded, "Text you the day, but it should be quick."

  “You sure about that?” Johnny told me, leaning over the driver’s side and tapping on the windshield.

  “Thanks, V,” she told me with quite a bit of charm, “Talk soon, okay?”

  “Sure,” I said graciously and hung up.

  “Right, you done with the phone sex?” Johnny teased.

  “To answer your previous question, yes, I’m sure,” I sneered and got back out of the car, “If they fuck around, I will personally ensure that they will find out.”

  I could hear some sort of ritualistic chanting going on outside… drums…? No… Some sort of other instrument. Almost like clacking seashells together… strange.

  The scent of incense was nearly overpowering. I knew that smell… an earthy, dense ayahuasca. Native tribes smoked it for many years - I’ve seldom had the pleasure, though I never forgot that smell the first time someone lit it up at a bonfire. I suppose I can’t put this off any longer…

  I opened the great, heavy door and seemingly entered another world. A world within a world within a world… it felt almost dreamlike. Smoke danced slowly in the air, the room filled with a seemingly sentient deep blue and black haze that actively blocked out the light coming from the glass cross behind me. Red streaks penetrated the darkness like massive needles, flickering against the bleeding light cast on the far wall.

  The heavy chanting penetrated my body, shaking my ribs and lungs. It almost felt like the chanting was coming from within me, within my very soul. A lone pastor stood atop an altar, presenting someone named Michel. Apparently quite the high-ranking member. “May his bones rest in peace,” the man spoke in pure Haitian Creole, “For here, we celebrate Michel. He was the last of us who remembers life on the Island. Before the oceans rose up in anger, it was our home…”

  He paced around the podium as if he was gliding on a cloud. Not sure if the airborne drugs were kicking in yet. Probably.

  “Home to our people… Then came change.” The voice rang in my head… I felt dizzy. “And our way of life would never be the same. But we survived. And we trust no more what has come from beyond… crashing against our shores. No. We grow stronger from within! Like Agwé Arroyo, Michel led us against troubled waters. To a new home.” I started to pace forward, making myself more prominently visible as I weaved through the crowd. “Pacifica… is our new island.

  “But now, without Michel, a new change will come…” he continued, subtly raising the resonance of his voice, “We pass to the other side, Guinee… And we shall take Michel’s memory with us. God be with you.”

  A man reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder, turning me around and pulling me in closely as the sermon continued. I could barely make out his skin, just his piercing blue eyes. “You are V?” he asked me, “We have been expecting you.”

  “What gave it away?” I bet it was the sword.

  “Hmph,” he grunted, “We have had eyes on you since you entered Pacifica.”

  “Making sure I didn’t get lost?”

  “Something like that…” he muttered ominously beneath the clattering of the percussion instruments.

  “And we had to meet at a funeral, of all places?”

  “Do not be frightened, estrange. This funeral is not for you.” Hm. Seemed that they were quite no-nonsense, as I expected. Although I appreciated the theatrics. He could have just as easily came out to my car. But instead he chose to meet me here, inside this building, during this service. Knowing, or certainly hoping, it would alter my state of mind… They’re smart.

  “I understand you have a job for me, then.”

  “I’m just the man in the middle,” he spoke frankly, “The rest you will learn… soon.”

  “The man in the middle? What is this, some sort of test?” I said with an annoyed tone.

  “All of us we have known as babies. We know their angels. You, we do not know,” he shook his head.

  “Then how do you know I would even be right for the job?”

  “We know your name. Your reputation. That is enough.” Yet you do not know me, by your own admission. Interesting way of conducting business.

  “And I understand that, if I do this job, I gain an audience with Brigitte, correct?”

  “Shopping center by the intersection,” he directed me, totally avoiding the question, “Go to the butcher shop there. Ask for Placide. He will give you the details.”

  With that, the man returned to prayer and let me see myself out. Placide, hm… I suppose this will be another roundabout ordeal after all. It pained me to refrain from simply slaughtering my way to Maman Brigitte, but I needed to be in her good graces. At least for now.

  I opened the thick, wooden doors and headed back to my car, dropping off my handgun and holster. I doubt it would give them the best first impression to bring arms onto their premises. “Seems like they keep their cards close,” Johnny inferred, “Think it’s a trap?”

  “No doubt in my mind,” I subtly nodded my head at him, “They already have a plan for me. I imagine they would want to kill me at the earliest possible convenience. The trick is to lengthen that timeframe until the Relic is deactivated. Then they can try and kill me all they want.”

  “Heh, I like your spunk.”

  I headed down, deeper into the heart of Pacifica. It felt like a slow, steady descent into some bizarre facsimile of Haiti. Like I would turn the corner and come face to face with a shrunken human head or a shop selling Voodoo dolls, some sort of stereotype, given how they played it up. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me. Though I doubt they could outdo themselves after that funeral.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Ever been here before all the shit went south?” Johnny asked me.

  “Far as I know, it was pretty much always like this,” I explained to him, “Pacifica was a failed project. A paradise lost, I guess. And it's pretty much always been like that. Guessing it was like that back in your time?”

  "Eeeyup," Johnny replied, “Was supposedly this big, Heaven on Earth place, ended up becoming a refugee-clogged landfill when the Fourth broke out. Figures that they just set up shop here. Haitians are new, though.”

  “Then you know about all there is to know,” I shrugged with a smile as I walked down another flight of stairs, “Militech ended up pouring funding into this place in the 2050s to mid-2060s, trying to restart it. Petrochem did the same with the coast. Couple other investors as well, so they brought over the Haitians for the cheap labor. Nothing ever came of it, though.”

  “What, Militech still interested in lost causes?”

  “I guess so,” I glanced over at the massive wall the company erected way back when, “Some classified data got leaked, said they uncovered an old lab from the Time of the Red after a massive explosion or whatnot. Cordoned off the whole area. Then the Unification War ended and it all just became this great, lawless wasteland. Nobody really knows what goes on in there anymore, I doubt that anyone really cares, to be honest.”

  “Heh, sounds like paradise, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re more than welcome to go stay there once you take over my body,” I said with a sarcastic tone, “I guess we all have our skeletons in our closet, though. Not that Arasaka was much better.”

  “Hmph, you know any random secret trivia? Guessin’ so.”

  “Pff, I’m not that easy, Johnny,” I scoffed at him.

  “Coulda fooled me,” he said with a grin, “Nobody who looks like you’s got a body count less than 20. Unless you’re some kinda prude.”

  “Okay, see, I’m not in the mood to listen to a womanizing cheater’s advice on my sex life, thanks.” I hope a fucking meteor hits this planet and we all die.

  “Whatever,” he shook his head and disappeared as I leaned up against the balcony.

  It was quite beautiful, though. The beaches, the hotels, the Grand Imperial Mall dominating the skyline to the right against the unfinished Militech buildings to the left. I’d heard so many horror stories about Dogtown, as it’s called, over the years – the sovereign state inside of those massive walls. I still remember its creation well. A whole battalion of soldiers was inserted behind our lines, cornering us on three sides. We would’ve been wiped out if it wasn’t for the supercarrier showing up, which finally put an end to their plans. I knew exactly what tactic they would’ve used, too. A pincer move. Advance with the divisions on our front and back us up into the city, where we’d have been slaughtered by the battalion head, Colonel Hansen, and his men. Or that's what would've happened had we not won. Funny how the tables have turned so quickly. Now he simply stays behind those walls, like some persistent wart on Night City’s flesh.

  Dogtown was always an impenetrable wall for us. No actionable intel ever got out, so I didn't really care much. As far as I’m concerned, it was just some crappy little place, a few city blocks governed by a guy with a massive ego who sold his soul to the devil, but I guess that’s no different than Night City itself. Still, no real reason to care – they always left us alone, and I’d rather not be the one to poke the bear and start another war. As if this city didn’t have enough of those ongoing already, one of which was actively fought not one kilometer from me. The Animals and the Voodoo Boys. A conflict I knew even less about. I mean, if gangs want to throw themselves at each other, by all means. Less problems for people like me to clean up.

  Alright, I guess I can’t put it off any longer. Time to go inside this butcher shop, find this guy. I really hope he isn’t as big of an asshole as I’m imagining him. After what happened to Evelyn, I’m just not in the goddamn mood.

  I wonder who tipped the Voodoo Boys off to her location, anyway. My gut says the Tyger Claws; it’s their club, after all. After the Heist backfired, I’m sure any news on Evelyn would’ve fetched a high price to the VDBs. And Wakako Okada, ever the businesswoman, might’ve seen it as a fair trade. What’s the life of one doll against the figures these guys can pull. But even if she was the one who handed them the gun, I still know for certain it was the VDBs who pulled the trigger, and I’m sick and tired of pretending like destroying innocent lives is okay. Besides, they made Judy cry.

  The scent of meat was overpowering as I entered – not the usual syn-meat, though. Actual, real meat. Interesting, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Hell, I bet they could make a fortune off this if they wanted. The illegal meat trade is great money. “…It’ll turn out like it always does,” a woman sat in a chair in front of the store spoke in Creole as I entered, speaking to the man behind the counter, “Makes no sense to push him out now. Just wait.”

  “I dunno, he seemed pretty insistent,” the man replied to her.

  “Oh, he’ll change his mind, like always.”

  “Mm, not this time.”

  “You want me to talk to him, right?” she whispered hesitantly, “Okay… not a chance.”

  “Hm,” I cleared my throat as I entered, the pair immediately stopping and looking straight at me. It was unnerving, if anything. They definitely made a point to know I was unwelcome, that’s for sure. “Smells like real meat. Do you have any for sale here?”

  “Do you actually want to buy some?” the man spoke to me accusingly.

  “What is it you’re doing here?” the woman interjected.

  “Trying to be clever, apparently,” the man finished her thought. Guess I’m not buying meat here, after all… would’ve been nice, though…

  “I’m looking for Placide. Was told to come here.”

  “Mm, so it’s you,” he grumbled, “Go on through, then. Placide is in the back.” The woman started singing some unfamiliar lullaby. One which was quite peaceful, yet unquestionably passive-aggressive as well. Not in the lyrics, just… how she sang it. This whole place felt so passively hostile. I suppose I understood, in a way, though I don’t think I would’ve made my compunctions that obvious to a visitor I didn’t want to deal with. I just hunched over, put my hands in my pockets, and hurried myself along. The sooner I got out of this district, the better. There’s a reason we didn’t do any business in Pacifica.

  Downstairs felt all tacky and sticky to the touch as I opened doors leading to more and more pungent smells. I’d never seen the inside of a real slaughterhouse before – I knew they existed. Somewhere. But after the bioplagues killed most of the swine, bovine animals, and birds, what was left to butcher, anyway? It’s a small wonder this place is even running as well as it was.

  I opened a backroom door leading to what appeared to be the butchery – a cold, dry freezer caked with a layer of some sort of strange detritus, and various men working in sterile coveralls. “Placide?” I asked each of them in turn, receiving no response, predictably.

  “Placide?” No…

  Hm…

  Suddenly, the heavy fall of a meat cleaver flooded my ears. Loud bangs against a cutting board, purposeful and powerful. Yeah… that’s him. I let myself behind the plastic curtain strips, announcing my presence and causing the massive, lumbering man to turn as he sharpened his instrument. “Placide?” I asked him with determination in my voice.

  “Mm,” he simply grunted as he eyed me from head to toe. His size was certainly formidable, likely packed with synthetic muscle strands and added bioware. Alright, let’s see what he’s about…

  “They say you’re the best runners in town,” I gloated for him, “The Voodoo Boys. Bespoke hardware and subnets. At least, that’s what they say. Nobody really knows.”

  “Dis is good,” he spoke with a deep, resonant accent.

  “Bleeding-edge software. Fighting multiple wars and holding your own. Impressive,” I grinned, “And butchering, apparently. Here I thought poultry was illegal to sell. Six years of plague, something suddenly change?”

  “Dis not for sale. What you want?” Interesting. Alright, to the point it is, then.

  “I want an audience with Brigitte,” I told him bluntly. My words apparently struck a nerve, as he instantly stopped sharpening the cleaver and looked at me dead in the eyes. He breathed heavily, staring for a solid, unnerving five seconds. I readied myself for a fight – a fight which never came.

  “But dey send you to me,” he finally spoke, returning to his duties.

  “They have,” I nodded, “What is this job you have for me?” I asked him as he beheaded the chicken resting on the table.

  He seemed to be a man of very few words. Or perhaps it was only to me. Either way, I felt no better than if Placide was the name of a stone wall. Still, I could understand the sentiment. An insular community like this must look out for its own, so I know he must be wary of outsiders by default. I have no issue with that, as long as he lets me do my job.

  Placide folded the butchered animal into an old newspaper and ushered me to follow him. We headed out the back door of the establishment, a large keypad-operated garage entrance and into a promenade, dominated by crowds of people walking around whilst a gang fired automatic weapons into the air. Tasteful, I suppose. I looked over to my left at the sounds of distant explosions, seeing what appeared to be a Militech helicopter utterly decimating the 30th-odd story of one of the former hotels. “Welcome to Pacifica,” Placide spoke to me as we walked on, completely unphased by the ongoing warzone happening within earshot. A welcoming environment, indeed.

  “You know Pacifica well?” he asked me unexpectedly.

  “More or less,” I told him honestly, “It’s been a long time since I’ve conducted any business here. It was never exactly welcome to people like me.”

  “Was to be its own city, where suits would burn deir own eddies,” he explained to me, “A closed circle. De corps feed de sheep, dey spit de cash back out. All de toys here are grown from corpo cash.” A massive section of the building under fire collapsed down onto the road beneath it, likely killing dozens of people. Placide didn’t so much as blink. Seemed like they didn’t get the memo that the Unification War ended seven years ago.

  Placide stopped and leaned on the balcony beneath a building called Batty’s Hotel, looking over past the explosions powerful enough to rattle my teeth from here. “Our interest is in de GIM, de Grand Imperial Mall, look dere. Pacifica’s biggest, ugliest temple to greed. But never finished.” I doubt that anything here was ever actually finished… “Until last week it was deserted… empty.”

  “But now?”

  “De Animals crawled in,” Placide told me with a hint of irritation, “Made a nest.” We left the balcony, going into the hotel itself. Reggaeton music blasted over the loudspeakers, with various market stalls crowding the lobbies to the point where it was double-file lines only. Everything seemed to be for sale here, yet it was all so insular. I wonder what the point even was. It functioned more as a self-sustaining village than a real economy. I doubt they even accepted money.

  “Grann Ertha,” he stopped at a vendor, producing the chicken and placing it on the table.

  “Placide,” a woman greeted him from behind the counter, “You shouldn’t have, I cannot accept this.”

  “Won’t take no for an answer,” he spoke surprisingly warmly. I had a quick look around, more out of sheer curiosity than anything.

  This place was one of extremes. People living in destitute hovels made out of a five-star luxury hotel seemed to be a bit of an oddity in its own right, though certainly an interesting one.

  “Let’s go, not far now,” Placide beckoned me as he finished up with the woman dragging me through the thickest diaspora I’d ever seen. This place makes Japantown look like a cheap cosplayer by comparison – more than it was in reality, anyway. Seemed like everyone and their mother wanted to talk to this guy as well. Must be well-regarded in the community, that’s for sure. “You deal wid Animal before?” he asked me as we walked up a set of stairs leading out of the main lobby.

  “I’ve had my run-ins on the job, but aside from that, I’ve never had any outstanding grudge against them,” I said as I followed him closely, “You want them out of the GIM?”

  “You learn everyt’ing soon.” We approached a lone double door guarded by a pair of high-ranking VDBs, who immediately stood aside for the incoming massive hulk of a man.

  “It makes no sense for them being there,” I told him, “Behind enemy lines, no backup. It’s your turf, what’s their interest here?”

  “Dey do not leave GIM,” he replied, again dodging the question as we rounded the corner to what seemed to be their main base of operations.

  “And how many are inside?”

  “Thirty. Maybe more.” Oh, this just keeps getting better and better… Still, something about this seemed off. What would they possibly need me for? My services were best with infiltration, assassination, intelligence-gathering. Not finishing their war for them. I understood they cared little for my life, but the Relic is meaningless to them in the hands of the Animals. There’s something else going on beneath the hood. “Vini nan. We talk here,” he eyed a chair in front of a desk. The door behind it seemed to lead to some sort of netrunner’s den or a server room of some sort, I couldn’t make it out behind the glass. But I had no doubt she was in there… somewhere. “You sit,” he instructed me.

  “And I understand that I meet Brigitte after the job?” I confirmed with him.

  “Mm. You do job. Dat is first.”

  I obliged him and took a seat, getting comfortable and being careful not to let Shinden hit the edge. Suddenly, Placide grabbed my hand without warning, pulling it towards him and trying to remove my glove. I ripped it back violently, his grip formidable but not strong enough. “Hey!” I sneered.

  “What de hell?!” he looked at me rudely.

  “What are you doing? I came here for a job, not to be plugged in against my will,” I fired back and stood up again, “You could tell me what you’re about to do to me, you know!”

  “You take job, you do what we say,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

  “I took the job, but the last time I checked, the job doesn’t require me to be plugged into your device, which for all I know could be spiked with something,” I said loudly, “That may be fine with the usual scop but it’s not fine by me.”

  “V…” Johnny appeared behind Placide, shaking his head in admonishment, “Home stretch here. ‘Member, it’s our last chance, do not fuck this up.”

  “Grrr…” I grumbled to Johnny as I sat back down, removing my glove and allowing him access. I didn’t like this… Not one bit. There was not a doubt in my mind that he was spiking me.

  “Well at least he’s not likely to talk your ears bloody,” Johnny said to me.

  “Yeah, unlike some guy in my head,” I hissed at him.

  “So what services do you require specifically?” I asked Placide, “You’re well aware that I don’t do mop-up jobs like this. You could send your own guys for that.”

  “Dis not our way,” he interrupted bluntly.

  “Your way working out well, I see,” I eyeballed the GIM behind me.

  “Work good. More good than bad.” He casually typed on his computer, doing God-knows what to my internal hardware. Kiyo’s backups coming in to the rescue here, I have no doubt. “Your chrome shaman – it is Viktor?”

  “Oh? You know him?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

  “No, no need,” he said more quietly now that things have calmed down, “Dis hardware is shit. Natural eyes, no hololink, everyt’ing here over 2 decades dated. You should replace.”

  “Oh I’m sorry, are you an appraiser now?” I said sarcastically, “Now cut the crap and let me do my job or I’m walking.”

  “You think you’re free? That you can get up and walk?” he growled at me.

  “As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

  “Remember why we’re here, V,” Johnny interrupted, “No denying the guy’s a fuckin’ tool, but we need him. Can’t find Alt without a little Voodoo.”

  Fine… “It is clear we do not like each other, but liking each other isn’t part of the job description. What do you need me to do?”

  “Mmh, good answer,” he grunted, “Dis chip I see. It has no signature. What is it?” I assume he meant the Relic.

  “Unimportant. It’s broken.”

  “Mmh. How it broken?”

  “You see this scar?” I pointed to my forehead, peeling back my hair, “It broke when this happened.”

  “Mmh.” He’s not exactly professional, this one.

  “You never answered my question,” I prompted him again, “What do you need me to do?”

  “De kamyonèt,” he told me, “De van.”

  “What van?”

  “Dere is a van, parked inside de GIM,” he explained to me, “We try to learn where it come from.”

  “A van in the GIM… Alright, so what’s so special about this van, exactly?”

  “Dey watch it very close,” he glared at me, “It is important, whatever it is.”

  “Do you know what’s inside of it?”

  “If we knew dat, would not need you,” he said plainly. Guess he has a point there. “Some sort of satellite dish and interface in de back–”

  “Placide,” a man came rushing out of the back room, “Her heart rate is dipping again–”

  “Close de door!” he shouted at the underling as we both stared at him. He shook in his boots, rushing back in and slamming the door behind him.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Dey will manage fine,” Placide grumbled, folding his hands in front of him and leaning back on his chair, “You focus.”

  “So the Animals are just incidental, the real target is this van’s owner. And whoever owns it hired the Animals to protect it. Considering it’s clearly not one of yours, I’m guessing you’re worried about another player in town. Someone with netrunning skills. And you need me to shut them down because I’m natural and less prone to hacking.”

  “Mhm,” he nodded, “Start wit’ de kamyonèt. Hide from all eyes.”

  “Consider it done,” I told him flatly– AGH! I felt a sharp electrical jolt as my phone activated by itself.

  “You are now sync with Rezo Agwe, our subnet,” Placide told me through both the phone and in-person at the same time. I suppose now the only question is what I’ve been spiked with, exactly. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

  “Why, exactly?”

  “You are my vessel now,” he said with an air of intimidation, “Though you I see what you see, hear what you hear.” I doubt that, considering I don’t think they can possibly hack natural eyes or ears. Perhaps he just wants me to clip my phone on my person so he can see through the lens. Whatever, fine. “I will guide you through GIM.”

  “No need,” I explained, “I don’t need a guide. I specialize in this type of work.”

  “Find our people near mall,” he instructed. He’s good at ignoring my requests, that’s for sure. “Dey will show you how to get inside de beast.” I assumed there were plenty of entrances – it’s a fucking shopping mall, not a fortress. But sure, I’ll play along with his little game. He stood up and walked over to the door, allowing me to unplug myself.

  “And Brigitte will speak to me if I do this?” I asked him one more time.

  “Yes,” he grumbled, “Go to de end of de hall. Go down. My people will let you pass.”

  I didn’t say another word to him. I was already so close to chopping his head clean off. But Johnny was right – I needed him. At least for now.

  “Come on, V,” Johnny ushered me along.

  “I swear, these people better pray that Placide hasn’t infected me with some bullshit daemon.”

  “You know for a fact he has,” Johnny explained, “But that doesn’t mean we don’t need him and he don’t need us. Let’s let this play out. Least until we get to Alt.”

  “Yeah, and how, exactly? You know she’s dead, right?”

  “Not exactly,” Johnny said, “Soulkilled.”

  “What?!”

  “That’s right, ‘Saka soulkilled her. They must be tryin’ to find her engram,” he theorized, “Just dunno what for. Who gives a fuck, anyway. Not our problem.”

  “Well it sure as hell will be our problem if they try and kill us before we get our answers.” I headed down the stairs and out the side door, the Grand Imperial Mall looming in the distance as the sun set behind it. I bet this place has one hell of a gym.