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4. Borrowed Skin

  As they entered the red light district, the clusters of cars gave way to foot traffic. Trig got tired of maneuvering around pedestrians and parked in one of the large under-parks locals use. He set his locks and alarms before walking away. If anyone fucked with his car his wrist-com would alert him.

  Oz stayed on Trig’s heels, used to following men who walked with that self-important cadence that opened holes in crowds for them to pass through.

  Here the streets were lined with brothels, bars, and hotels that charged by the hour. Trig turned towards one of the nicer condos and buzzed the penthouse through the door’s com system.

  “Hey, it's Trig. I’m with a friend.”

  The com’s screen was glitched out but the camera looked new. Oz didn’t doubt that the penthouse owner could get a very clear look at them.

  No answer came but the gated door beeped as it unlocked to let them in.

  “This lady’s a friend of mine. House Queen around here,” Trig explained as they entered the elevator. She does a little bit of everything. Mostly tech work.”

  Oz wondered if Trig was always so talkative and if it was part of his rockstar persona. Harry could be a talker too but since Oz spent most of xyr time alone in xyr room, it wasn’t something xe dealt with often.

  “Her speciality,” Trig went on as the elevator neared the penthouse, “is body augments for the workers around her but she does other stuff too. Low key, known, and nice as fuck, so just don’t be weird, ok?”

  Xe blinked at Trig, unsure of what to say. Oz didn’t think xe was weird but it was clear other people thought so even when all xe was doing was standing there.

  Trig sighed and stepped through the elevator door when it opened, obviously exasperated.

  Oz smirked at his back. For a guy who liked to put on airs of self-confidence, he sure was easily flustered.

  At the end of a short, pink hallway, was a golden door. It opened before Trig could knock.

  “Hello Verana,” Oz greeted the woman and was immediately pulled into a hug as Trig stared at them in shock.

  “Oz! Good to see you!”

  The penthouse owner was a tall woman with rocket red hair in thick curls, bright red lipstick, and wearing a sheer red robe over a red synth-silk night gown that hugged her hourglass figure. Verana was the most beautiful lady in Mercy.

  “Come in, come in. I made coffee.”

  Inside the penthouse, the front room was posh, clean, and impersonal. It felt less like a living room and more like a waiting area. A slender blonde with tits as big as her head walked out from the back, gave Verana a quick kiss, and left without a word.

  “Have a seat,” Verana said as the door shut. “What brings you two here?” She stepped with long legged strides into an alcove where she poured coffee without bothering to see if they wanted any. “It’s weird to see you without Harry, Oz. He coming up?”

  “No,” Oz said, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

  Trig slouched into a nearby chair, recovering from his surprise. “You two know each other?”

  “Oz and I go way back,” Verana said, bringing them both delicate cups of espresso.

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  That was an understatement, Oz thought. Verana had been a lifesaver over the years when xyr gear glitched or needed updating. Droidos were rare in Free Zones and Harry wasn’t about to take his property to one of the corpo run cities to get maintenance. If it weren’t for Verana, Oz would have been scrapped years ago.

  When it was clear that neither Verana nor Oz would explain the extent of their relationship, Trig huffed in frustration and drained his espresso in one gulp like a shot. “We’re on a job,” he said after wincing at the bitter coffee.

  “Oh?” Verana looked like a queen on her throne as she sipped daintily. “So what’ll it be? I don’t have anything up to date enough for Oz but maybe I can rev you up, Trig.” It was clear by her tone that she had more in mind than some bio-ware updates.

  “Trig says I need a new look,” Oz replied, setting xyr untouched coffee on the low coffee table between them. Xe didn’t care for coffee without a load of sweetener and didn’t feel like reminding xyr hostess. Verana had opinions about adulterating high end coffee. In the past she’d complained that it was like turning fine wine into a cheap spritzer. Oz didn’t really understand but could tell it annoyed her so didn’t bring it up.

  Verana’s chroma-blue eyes turned to Trig as she raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “We’re going to Kato’s tonight,” Trig said with a shrug.

  “And you don’t want to be seen with the best Droido in Mercy?” The way Verana stared Trig down made Oz uncomfortable. It was like being in the room when a kid is being scolded by their handler.

  Xe turned away and pretended to admire a painting on the wall across the room. It was a cityscape at sunrise. The lighting glinted off the toxic atmosphere creating an oil sheen rippling effect, adding to the city’s liminal beauty. Oz wasn’t sure if it was a good painting and didn’t have much of an opinion on art, but it allowed xem to focus on something else when xyr emotions were…inconvenient.

  Oz knew how others saw xem. There wasn’t a day on the street that someone didn’t make it very clear that xe was sub-human. Only a few people like Silk and Verana ever treated xem like a normal person. It made xem feel a lot of ways xe couldn’t quite parse. However, xe didn’t like either of them putting themselves in uncomfortable situations to defend xem.

  “Xe just needs a little reskinning,” Trig explained. “We need to be signal-clean on this job.”

  Verana sipped her coffee and turned her hard gaze on Oz. It took xem a long moment to return from xyr reverie and face the hostess.

  “Alright,” Verana said finally. “Let’s get you some borrowed skin, shall we?” She sat down her cup and stood, reaching a hand out to Oz. Long red nails glinted against xyr pale flesh as she pulled xem up.

  To Trig, Verana pointed at the seat. “You stay here.”

  He raised a hand as if in defeat and slouched further down. “Fine. I need a nap anyways.”

  Verana led Oz through a side door near the alcove and down a long hallway to a back room. They passed the room she usually took Oz to for updates and work. “This is my bedroom. You’re a good deal smaller than me but I'm sure I have a few things you can use.”

  Oz was hit with a cloud of perfume - floral and musky. The bedroom was twice the size of the sitting area and contained a lot more intent. The walls were lined with red silk that matched plush rugs. A bed dominated one side of the room, swathed in red silk, was circular and surrounded on three sides with curtains. At the foot of the bed was a low, backless couch with red and black straps hanging from underneath.

  In the corner, next to a mirrored walk in closet, was a bone-white vanity cluttered with makeup and perfume bottles. A small gun with a pearl handle lay to the side, nestled among powders and nail polish.

  “Take off your clothes,” Verana said, opening the closet. “I need a good look at what I’m working with.”

  The mirrors reflected Oz as xe stripped out of the charcoal colored clothes and clunky boots.

  Years of surgeries before hitting puberty had stunted Oz’s growth, just as with any other Droido. The implants and wiring made them smart and networked with access to all the information in the known world but the cost was on their bodies.

  In the end, Oz was less than five feet tall with no curves to speak of. What was seen in the mirror was a pale, slender humanoid with small breasts and only a hint of ass and thighs. Despite the complicated bio-ware in xyr head, the rest of xyr body was mostly unmarked. No gear, no tattoos, no piercings. Just pale flesh and a few scars.

  It had been a long time since Oz compared xyr body to another person’s. Mostly, it felt like an old bruise, still a little sore to press into and think about. It didn’t matter how much time passed, Oz wasn’t going to look like Verana or Trig - beautiful people who others looked at with a touch of awe. Even with muscle or breast augmentations and facial recon, the wires in xyr head were still there - ever present. What was the point in making xemselves attractive just to be a pretty Droido? That was even if Harry allowed it.

  Xe pushed the thoughts away and looked at Verana, waiting.

  “You’re built like a dancer,” Verana said, admiring xyr form for a moment. “Let’s show that off a little.”

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