Owen sat paralyzed in the coliseum. It felt like a lifetime ago that he snuck in with Ed to install a jumper on a scratchpad. But there he was sitting at a table in the Coliseum reserved for the elite of society. It was as much a museum as a restaurant. He was surrounded by master works of art and statues carved from marble. A statue of the founder of City Seven, Bruce Callahan, was at the center of the Coliseum restaurant, one fist to the sky in defiance of the collapse while he held a child’s hand.

  It wasn’t just the art that caught Owen’s attention, but the stunning lack of ads that plagued every moment of his existence. This is how they lived. They had the money to be rid of the ads.

  “Are you okay?” Amber asked. She sat across from Owen, casually dressed in a light sweater and jeans. She almost looked like a normal person, though Owen still felt severely underdressed when compared to the other patrons of the restaurant. All of his clothes were purchased at the night market for a bargain. He tried to imagine how many credits were being worn in the room. “Owen?”

  “Sorry,” Owen said. He shook his head. “I’ve never been here.”

  “I’ve been coming here since I was little. The novelty will wear off after you’ve been a couple times. Chris likes to meet here when we discuss business because there aren’t any cameras. What are you having?”

  Owen dared to crack the menu open. Several dishes he’d never heard of and couldn’t pronounce were featured on the first few pages. As he flipped the pages his heart sank. He swallowed hard.

  “I can’t afford anything here. Do they have a value section?” Owen asked. Amber snorted. “What?”

  “You’re adorable.” She cocked her head as she studied him. “I’ll pay. Order whatever you want today. Except for the lobster. It’s never as fresh as they claim.”

  “Order the crab,” Sensei Dan said as he pointed at the menu. “You’ll absorb its power and harden your skin.”

  Owen doubted Dan’s claim, but he still ordered the crab when a waitress came around.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a skinny man with a thick mustache said as he took a seat at Owen’s table. “There was a crash on the way here. Blocked four lanes. Is this him?” He stared at Owen like he was looking at a product up for sale. “He’s smaller than I thought he’d be. Jason Moore has two inches on him and he’s popular with mid city boys ages ten through fifteen.”

  “He’s not small,” Amber said. “What are you, Owen? Six foot? Whatever. Please meet my lawyer slash agent, Christopher Hartley.”

  “Hartley?” Owen asked as they stood and shook hands. “Your wife is warden of Black Hill.”

  “Yes she is,” Hartley said with a shit eating grin. “Amber tells me you’re a fighter. You don’t have a lot of info out there. Orphaned at ten, lived in a care facility until a legal adult and recently self employed as a freelance electronics repair tech. I couldn’t find your record with the league. Are you fighting under a different name?”

  “I’ve never fought for the league.” Owen didn’t like how much this man knew about him.

  “I’ll have my regular,” Hartley told the waitress before he glared at Owen. “You’ve never fought in the league? Amber, sweetheart, what’s going on here? I trekked all the way from the studio and he’s a nobody.”

  “He’s good,” Amber said. “I saw him take apart three fighters without breaking a sweat.”

  “Those guys were kind of terrible,” Dan said. “Good fight though, Owen.”

  “He’s a diamond in the rough,” Amber said. She crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t waste your time like this. You know me better than that.”

  “Why don’t you just work with your brother?” Hartly asked like Owen wasn’t sitting there. “He’d be happy to have you as part of team Jake.”

  “I’m not riding my baby brother’s coattails. And I’m not recruiting Jason Moore. He stinks.”

  “He has presence,” Hartley said as he took a deep breath. “This kid doesn’t have anything like that. Look at his shirt. It’s something you’d wear to one of those indoor beaches.”

  “It has a collar,” Owen said defensively. It was the nicest shirt he owned despite the palm tree pattern covering every inch of the fabric.

  “Right. Amber, please rethink this. I’ve got a whole list of proven fighters you can choose from in every size, shape, and color.”

  “I want this one.” Amber looked Hartley in the eyes. “We’re going to sign this one.”

  “Your mom won’t like it,” he said. “She’s all about image. You know that better than anyone. If he loses his first fight with the Callahan name attached there will be hell to pay, and you won’t be paying it. I will.”

  “I’m sure you can afford it. I pay you enough.” Amber took a sip of sparkling water. “Did you bring the contract?”

  “Of course.” Hartley opened a pristine leather briefcase as his scratchpad beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled. “Look at this.” He showed Amber the screen. “That’s my grandson taking his first steps.” He showed it to Owen, who recognized the scratchpad. It was the same one Tuck had him install the jumper on during Owen’s first mission. He bet the jumper was still hidden inside. “Look at him go.” Hartley couldn’t stop smiling. “Sorry about that.” He stowed the scratchpad and fetched the contract.

  “Congratulations,” Owen said. “You must be proud.”

  “I am.” Hartley cleared his throat as his smile drifted away. “Alright, Mr. Lamb,” Hartley said. “I have misgivings about this whole deal, but what Amber wants, Amber gets.” He slid the contract to Owen. “This is a boilerplate contract. I’ll assume you don’t have a lawyer to look this over so I’ll explain the fine points.” Hartley cleared his throat. “You will fight for Miss Amber Callahan’s gym. You will not fight for any other sponsors. You will receive a monthly stipend as long as your performance is deemed adequate by your trainer. You will be provided housing and you will train at Ms. Callahan’s gym. Do you understand?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yes,” Owen said. He listened intently to the terms and conditions because the last time he didn’t he ended up with Sensei Dan in his head.

  “Awesome. Sign here.” He handed Owen a silver pen and Owen signed his name. “And go ahead and put your hand here.” Hartley pulled a large scratchpad from his briefcase. “This will enter your info into the Fighting League registry. I’ll handle the paperwork on that side. Any questions?”

  “No,” Owen said. “Wait, actually yes. You said I’d get housing. Are you moving me into another tube?”

  “Tube?” Hartley’s eyes went wide and Owen detected a hint of pity. “No, kid. You’ll get an apartment.”

  “An apartment?” Owen saw them on screen, but trying to visualize one in reality was impossible for his low life mind. He pressed his hand to the scanner.

  “I’ll send you the details. For now, let’s forget about business and enjoy lunch. Welcome to team Amber.”

  The waitress returned with their food. A salad for Amber, a plate of pasta for Hartley, and a row of crab legs for Owen. While Amber and Hartley ate Owen played with his food, poking the hard shell with his fork.

  “You need to crack it,” Dan said. He pretended to snap a twig. “The good part is inside.” He smiled so wide Owen thought his head might split in half.

  Owen cracked the crab with his bare hands and squirted crab juice across the table. Hartley’s face scrunched as it hit him directly in the mouth and Amber laughed when it got on her cheek.

  “Sorry,” Owen said. He ate buttered crab and fell in love. It killed his embarrassment immediately. He dug in with his bare hands, gorging on something denied to him his entire life by City Seven’s social divide. Was all high lifer food so good?

  “He’s a savage,” Hartley said.

  “I think he’s going to be fun,” Amber said as she wiped her cheek with a napkin.

  Lunch went quick and Hartley practically sprinted away after a quick goodbye. Amber gave Owen the details on his new apartment located in the mid city, so far away from the residential towers and industrial districts that Owen wouldn’t be able to smell factory smog. They’d meet first thing in the morning at Wilson’s Warzone for Owen’s first day of training. Again she said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and left the coliseum in a car that was waiting for her.

  Owen didn’t have anything else to do other than gather his belongings from the dojo and move into his new apartment. Part of him believed it was a sick joke, but they had him sign a contract and that meant it was real. Contracts weren’t a joke in City Seven. Not to the high lifers.

  “How’d it go?” Ed asked as Owen passed a dark alley on his way to his apartment. He leaned against a wall, a thin scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. His orange parka was bright in the alley shadows. “You eat anything good?” He motioned for Owen to follow him.

  He didn’t know what Ed was doing there. They didn’t arrange to meet so that meant Ed was following him. Owen didn’t notice him until Ed wanted him to.

  “Crab,” Owen said. “I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever had.”

  “Wait till you try steak.” Ed had both hands in his pockets and kept six feet away from Owen. “We need to talk man to man. No radio, no backup.”

  “Guard up, Owen,” Sensei Dan said. He looked Ed up and down. “He’s got a killing aura about him.”

  “What’s going on?” Owen shifted his leg back and brought his hands up casually. Ed wouldn’t catch him off guard. “Does Tuck know you’re here?”

  “No,” Ed said. “I’m here on my own. And you are too.” He chuckled. “Time to answer some questions, Owen. And don’t run, I’ll catch you.”

  “He will,” Dan said. “You’re not ready for this fight.”

  “I’m on your side, Ed,” Owen said.

  “Are you? Who were you talking to at the gala? Tuck shrugged it off but I heard you loud and clear. You were talking to someone. Did you have another earpiece? Are you working for the peacekeepers, Owen?”

  “No!” Owen almost shouted it. “I’m not a peacekeeper.”

  “I didn’t ask if you were a peacekeeper. I know you’re not a peacekeeper. I asked if you’re working with them.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I had to shake down, Tom,” Ed said. “He frequents fight clubs. That’s where I found him once upon a time. So, I figured he might know something, and behold, he did. He told me you’re a fighter. You. Owen Lamb, who was working in a night market repair shop the day before he came to us looking for work.” Ed nodded as he talked. “Yet somehow you impressed Amber Callahan enough to get a sponsorship. That doesn’t sound like a tech shop employee. Tech shop employees don’t traditionally get hand to hand combat training.” He clicked his tongue. “An undercover Specter does. So tell me you aren’t undercover, Owen.”

  “I’m not under anything,” Owen pleaded. “I’ve been learning karate.”

  “Karate? Really?” Ed pulled down his scarf and sniffed. “Smells like bullshit. Need a better lie than that.” Ed pulled a short knife out of his pocket. “Tell the truth, Owen. Who are you? Who were you talking to?” Owen swallowed when he saw the knife. Ed wasn’t joking. He’d kill Owen in the alley and walk away. Fighting might be the only way out.

  “Tell him, Owen,” Dan said. “You don’t need to hide it.”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Whole city is crazy,” Ed said. “Try me.”

  Owen took a deep breath and told Ed everything. He told him about the fines. The CTD. Sensei Dan Hardknuckle. It all came tumbling out like an opened trash chute. It felt kind of good. He thought if he told anyone they’d think he was insane, but Ed put his knife away.

  “You’re telling me you got a karate teacher trapped in your brain?” Ed tapped the side of his head. “No bullshit?”

  “Sensei Dan Hardknuckle,” Owen said. “He got stuck in there when I used the CTD. I didn’t know what it was, but he’s been teaching me how to fight. I spend almost all of my free time training. Sensei Dan says I’m getting better.”

  “Shit.” Ed relaxed. “You could’ve told us. You don’t trust us, do you?”

  “The first time we met you threatened to kill me.”

  “That was a joke.” Ed shook his head. “No it wasn’t, but you’re a part of the team now. A real part of it. We trust you, so you need to trust us. Keeping this to yourself isn’t being a team player.” Ed sighed. “I won’t tell Tuck about the thing in your head. But do you have any other talents we aren’t aware of?”

  “I was pretty good at ping pong in the care facility.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Ed said as he walked away.

  “Wait,” Owen said. “I don’t know much about this thing in my head. Can you help me with that?”

  “I’ll ask around. No promises.” Ed took a couple steps. “Oh, and one more thing, Owen.” He held up a finger. “The Callahans live a life you aren’t prepared for. Amber is a beautiful creature, but she isn’t the same kind of human as us. I know from personal experience. Don’t fall for that sweet smile. They’re the enemy.” With that parting advice Ed left Owen alone with Sensei Dan.

  “Do you think we can trust him?” Owen asked Dan.

  “I’m not sure,” Sensei Hardknuckle said. He slapped a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Keep both eyes open Owen. Being on the same side doesn’t make you allies.”