24 – A Valued Guest
Tony had just collected the weapons from his three attackers when the first of the antiquated security synths barged into the room, its LED eyes pulsing red as it leveled its thirty-year-old plasma rifle—plugged directly into its oversized, built-in battery backpack—at Tony. “Cease all hostilities!” it blared from its speaker-grille mouth.
“Relax,” Tony said, holding his hands up. “I’m the guest.”
“Confirming,” the synth blared. With its gun still trained on him, it scanned the room with its bright red eyes, lingering momentarily on each of the dead bodies. Several seconds later, like a switch had been flipped, its eyes shifted to a cool white-blue, and it spoke again, this time in a calm, almost cultured, masculine tone, “Pardon, Mr. Shepherd. It seems these individuals were not guests of the hotel.”
“That’s right. I’m not very impressed with your security measures.”
“Please allow me to express our deepest regrets, Mr. Shepherd. It seems your room was badly damaged in their invasion. Will you require medical services?”
Tony shook his head. “No, but I’ll claim salvage rights, and I’ll expect new accommodations.”
“Please stand by while a member of our hospitality staff makes her way to your room.”
“Yeah, sure.” Tony looked at the three guns on the steam-soaked couch and decided to let them lie for now. He walked over to the bed, sat down, and began putting on his boots while the security synth continued to pan its gaze around the room, its plasma rifle pointed down but held at the ready.
After he’d shrugged into his coat, he nodded toward the bathroom. “They damaged the bathroom mirror while they were looking for me.”
The synth looked through the open doorway, then turned to regard the shattered mirror in the corner. “Savages.”
Tony chuckled. He’d heard heavy footsteps in the hallway, and he assumed more members of the hotel’s security team had come and gone, but now lighter steps approached. A moment later, a quaintly outdated synthetic woman stepped into the room. Her flesh was polished brass with silver and gold highlights to add character. Her clothing was a serious step-up from what he’d seen on the other synths in the hotel—midnight-black blazer cut along sharp, figure-hugging lines, a cream silk blouse, pinned at the throat with a tiny chrome brooch shaped like the hotel’s crest, and a pencil skirt that matched the blazer.
“Mr. Shepherd,” she said, her silver lips moving like flesh as she stepped forward, extending a hand. “My name is Titania, and I’m so very sorry for the trouble this evening. I can’t express how pleased we are that you came through unscathed.”
Tony took her hand, squeezing gently as he inclined his head. “I can’t say I’m happy about how easily they got in here, but everything seems to be all right.” He patted his chest as though checking for damage.
“Well, how fortunate for us. We value our guests above all in this dark, cruel world. I’m happy to offer you an upgraded room—comped, of course. Additionally, the individuals who lie dead in this room will be searched and stripped of their valuables, all of which will be cleaned and delivered to your room. Rest assured that any outstanding bounties will be claimed in your name and the funds delivered to the bit-vault of your choice.”
“That’ll be acceptable.”
“Excellent. I’ll summon a bellhop to gather your belong—”
“Nah.” Tony waved a hand dismissively. “I just have this bag.” He stepped over to the little closet and collected his duffel.
“Ah.” Titania chuckled, tilting her head to the side and sending her curls—metallic, but fine, almost like spun-gold—bouncing. “Traveling light, I see.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
She ran her silver eyes up and down his frame, nodding. “That’s quite a sidearm you have there. It’s fortunate it wasn’t just for show. These devils must have known regret when they chose your room to burgle.”
Tony grinned, looking at the three corpses, each sporting a large bloody hole. When his eyes fell on the girl by the bathroom, her colorful hair covering half her bloodless face, the image of her in the lobby, smiling and full of life, flashed through his mind’s eye, and his smile fell away. “Yeah. It’s a shitty world that makes people do stuff like that.”
“Let’s get you out of this mess. Follow me, please, Mr. Shepherd.” With that, the synthetic woman sauntered through the door, and Tony followed her into the hallway, inhaling deeply, like the cool air would clean the stain of bloody violence off him.
“I just received an update about your situation. It seems the rascals used jamming devices to interfere with our security cameras. Unfortunately, much of our tech is a bit outdated. What we lack in modernity, though, we’re happy to make up for with hospitality.”
“Mmhmm.” Tony followed her into the elevator and then watched as she selected the old-fashioned pushbutton labeled “P.”
“One of our penthouse suites is available.”
“Ah, nice.”
“And, just in the odd event those devils were targeting you in particular—doubtful, I’m sure—we’ll place a guard near your door for the remainder of your stay. How long will you be with us, Mr. Shepherd?” She reached out and delicately rested a hand on his shoulder as she winked a brass eyelid and whispered, “I’m prepared to offer you accommodations for a week.”
“That should work just fine. Thank you, Titania.”
“A pleasure. Between you and me, The Arms doesn’t receive the same caliber of clientele as it used to. We’re happy to cultivate a relationship with a man of your…talents.” She eyed his mass driver pointedly.
“Oh yeah?”
“Certainly. We may not have footage of your encounter, but one can learn a great deal from sounds. Your reaction to your intruders was decisive, and the results speak for themselves. Your SOA license indicates a relatively modest work history—” She paused as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. As they stepped out, she continued, “but The Arms AI has done a little digging. We won’t tread on your desire for privacy, but let’s just say we’re pleased to have you staying with us, Mr. Shepherd.”
The small foyer outside the elevator had three sets of double doors, labeled “P1” through “P3.” She bowed slightly and gestured toward the doors on the right—P3. “After you, sir.”
Tony walked over, and the iris scanner on the door panel flared with a soft amber glow, so he leaned close, allowing it to read his silver eye. It beeped musically, and then the door clicked. He pushed it open and stepped through into a room that was like the grown-up version of his little room down below. Where before he’d had a single, spacious bedroom with a bathroom, he now had a sitting room, complete with bookshelves loaded with actual, old-world books, a much larger bedroom, and a bathroom that had an actual bath.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
As he looked around, Titania followed silently, and when he finished his little tour, she asked, “Is there anything I can have brought up tonight?”
Tony shook his head. “Not tonight.” He gestured to the neon glow coming through the windows. “Thanks for the upgrade.”
“Of course. I know you’re expecting us to bring you the items collected from the vagabonds who attempted to burgle you, but we’ll hold those for a morning delivery. Would you like a wake-up call? Breakfast delivered?”
“No. I’ll come down for breakfast.”
“Very good. Now, I insist: if anything at all would make your stay more pleasant, please get in touch with me directly. I have many connections in the city, and I’ll be happy to use them for your benefit. I’ll be your hospitality liaison for the remainder of your stay. It’s been my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shepherd.”
Tony smiled, walking with her to the door. “It’s mutual.”
After she’d gone, he returned to the sitting room. The bookcases lined the walls on either side, but the far wall was floor-to-ceiling glass, exposing the best view of New Manhattan that he’d ever seen—at least from the outskirts looking in. There were some views in the Cross Corp building that were arguably better, but they certainly didn’t have the same charm. He sat down and perused the shelves from a distance.
Tony wasn’t a book guy. He didn’t recognize any of the titles, except for a few—Alice in Wonderland, for instance. Still, all he could think of was how much Addie would love to stay in a place like that. “If we make it through this mess,” he muttered. After he’d stared out the window for at least an hour and Nora reminded him of the time, he took a quick shower, crawled into the absurdly fine sheets of his bed, and fell fast asleep.
He slept later into the morning than he was used to, and probably would have slept quite a lot longer, but at 0944, Nora woke him with a soft alarm that sounded like bird songs. When he blinked blearily and shifted onto his back, he saw why: there were two priority alerts on his message app. “Who is it?” he asked, clearing the cobwebs from his throat.
“You have a secure message from Addie and another from Eric.”
“Gimme Eric’s first.”
A window appeared on his AUI showing Eric’s face on a faded, nondescript gray background. “Good news, br—Tony. I spoke to Jen after our meeting. She acted like it wasn’t any surprise, of course—you know her—and she didn’t give me any kind of answer about clearing the air or anything, but I think that’s a good sign. I mean, she didn’t freak out or threaten to kill me or you. Hoping to hear more from her soon. I’ll keep you posted.” The window closed, and Tony yawned, stretching.
“Gonna pretend he doesn’t know about our guests last night.”
“Did you expect him to take ownership?”
Tony snorted. “Good one, Nora.”
“I wasn’t attempting humor…”
“Forget it. Let me see Addie’s message.”
“It’s just text. Here.” A new window opened, and a letter from Addie appeared. Tony wanted to savor it, so he stood and, in his underwear, walked out to his suite’s parlor, where a small, elegant coffee bar sat in the corner. He touched the chrome-plated coffee machine’s controls, selecting a latte. As the machine hissed and burbled, he rifled through the little snack drawer until he found a foil-wrapped “Fresh Oatmeal Cookie.”
With cookie and steaming mug in hand, he sat in one of the genuine leather chairs and faced the morning skyline while he ate and read his message:
Tony,
I’m sitting in the warehouse, beside the van you and I bought together, and I’m desperately missing you. Every day that passes makes my time with you feel more and more like a dream. Sometimes I wake up and I wonder if everything really happened. Did you really fall into the Blast like that? Did you really walk into my dad’s shop, and did we really do all those things together? Of course, I know we did, but it’s strange how time passing paints memories with a sheen of something like…I don’t know, something like tinted glass—not dark, but maybe yellow or gold.
Anyway, the point is that I miss you, and I want to get you back in my life so you’re full-color again. You know? On that note, I have some very good news: we got our hands on something that’s worth enough to complete our end of the plan. I won’t say it was easy, but whenever things got hard or scary, I remembered what we’re doing this for and nothing seemed like too much. Glitch is working on making some trades and selling what she can’t trade.
I hope things are moving along for you, too. I want to be with you again. I want this whole thing to be over. I know we can’t rush just because of what I want, but I hope… Oh, Tony! Will you please just write to me? I mean, really write! Not, “Everything’s fine.” I’m so worried about you. You better know by now that you can tell me anything. You better.
Something happened with my Dust…abilities. Nothing terrible, but I’m going to meet with Pyroshi to talk it over. Anyway, it won’t stop me from doing what needs to be done for the plan. Just give us a few days on our end, then we’ll be ready when you are. I hope it’s soon.
Love,
Addie
Tony sighed as he set his empty cup down on the little side table. He sat quietly for a while, and when he closed his eyes, Nora asked, “Shall I prepare a response?”
“Gimme a minute.” The windows faced east, and Tony was enjoying the golden glow on his chest and face. He could picture Addie as clear as day, and her words had certainly been welcome. He wanted to give her good news, but images of the girl from the night before—the one with the silver-blue hair—kept coming back to him. Did he have to kill her? Couldn’t he have disarmed her? Couldn’t he have disarmed all of them?
They weren’t any kind of match for him; that had become clear. Still, he hadn’t even thought twice when he drew his overtly deadly pistol and fired three shots into the darkness. He had no idea who they really were. He didn’t know what desperate situation had made them take Jen’s contract. Maybe they were bad, but maybe they weren’t.
Tony reminded himself that he wasn’t the kind of person who had any qualms about killing when he needed to. He wasn’t sure anymore. Ever since Azalea, he’d felt different. He’d felt like he’d been slowly unraveling all of Addie’s work—everything she’d done to wake up the good in him. Growling, he squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. This was part of the deal. This was necessary. If he woke up too much of the old Tony, then he’d just have to work extra hard to put him back to sleep.
“Yeah, Nora. Take this down: Ads, you know how I feel—like something inside of me, some necessary part, is missing. That’s what you are to me. I’m not right when I’m away from you, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that. It’s damn great what you said—about getting what you need for the plan. Just don’t rush things on my account. Don’t make any risky deals. Things are moving along here. I’m making progress where I need to, but I need a little more time. I’m getting close, though.”
When he paused for a while, Nora asked, “Is that all, Tony?”
“No, say this too: When I started this whole thing, I had Nora delete all my saved files and footage of the Blast—you know, just in case. It’s backed up somewhere not even I could find. For now, I don’t have even a single saved image of you. It kills me. Every night, though, when I close my eyes, I fill the darkness with memories of you. I know they’re not perfect; my memory’s not digital, but dammit, they’re perfect to me. Even with everything I’m doing here—surrounded by the places and people that are like ghosts of my old life—I sleep well, because my dreams are full of you.”
Again, he fell silent, and Nora asked, “Is that—”
“That’s all. Send it.”
“Done.”
Tony stood, returned to his bedroom, and got dressed. As he pulled on his boots, he had a thought and said, “Nora, contact Titania.”
“Connecting…”
A window opened on his AUI almost immediately, and Titania’s strangely beautiful metallic face appeared. “Yes, Mr. Shepherd? Is the room satisfactory?”
“Everything’s fine, Titania, but I had another thought. About the belongings of the three people who attempted to, um, burgle me last night—can you do me another favor?”
“Certainly! Anything at all.”
“I’ll still take any bounty money that was on their heads, but everything else—all their equipment and jewelry and whatnot—find their next of kin and ship them home, especially their PAIs.”
“Ah, yes—a lovely consideration. I’ll be happy to see it done.” She paused, then added, “Now that you’re up and about, might I prepare a table for you? We’re serving a delightful set of courses for breakfast today.”
He released a slow breath, rolling his neck, feeling a tiny bit of the weight that had settled on his shoulders falling away. “Yeah, actually, that sounds nice.” He looked down at himself—his bloodstained pants and his combat-style boots—and added, “I’ll need to do some shopping. Perhaps you could recommend a tailor, someone who might elevate my style for my stay in District One.”
“Ah!” She smiled, exposing exquisitely detailed golden teeth. “You should know that The Meridian Arms is a full-service house of rest, catering to gentlemen and ladies of the highest caliber.” She lowered her tone, nearly whispering, “Well, we used to be.” After a brief pause, during which her smile shifted to something a little more reserved, she added, “If your wallet can meet the demand, I’d be happy to have our outfitter visit your rooms after breakfast.”
Tony inhaled deeply, slowly nodding as he looked around the old-world décor of his suite. He let his gaze drift to the windows, taking in the golden shine of the morning skyline. “Yeah, Titania. Let’s do that. Set it up.”

