“Fuck fuck fuck!” Lucyna Kushinada said under her breath as she hammered away at the terminal, her wired link to the unit heavy as she forced herself to concentrate in AR, playing meat runner and trying not to look suspicious as she did so. She hated this shit. Hated it so much, but there was no time. That Bitch had managed to catch up to her last hidey hole and forced her to abandon it with almost everything she owned in the process. She didn’t know who the merc was that had been tracking her across Europe, but they had been relentless, zeroing in on hideout after hideout as Lucy tried to put some kind of semblance of a plan together, her already dwindling funds barely enough to give her a coffin in a tombstone motel and some kibble to keep her going.

That had been the last six months. Find a hide, try to get some jobs, do some work, make some cash. Either on the net or running the edge, but whenever she thought she had escaped her past That Bitch would find her and it would all start over again. And Lucy didn’t even know how she managed to track her! She’d gone to rippers and had them dig around inside of her for bugs, she’d opened herself up to Skylight to see if there was some kind of digital flare on her, but nothing. She was either just that sloppy, or her hunter was just that good. Maybe both.

But that didn’t matter now. She had come up with a last ditch, desperate effort to break free. She had made a friend online, a netrunner named Kiwi who had seemed nice and was willing to give her advice on occasion. It was a longshot, but maybe she could give her someplace to hide too. Tracking her down was a big no no, a violation of the runner code, since they weren't enemies and weren’t in competition, but she did it anyway. Kiwi had good trace protection, too, but Lucy was Lucy. Running her down wasn’t the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, and maybe Kiwi would be okay with it when she explained the situation? From what she knew of the woman she’d gone through a hell all her own, so maybe she’d understand.

But the problem, as with all things, was getting to where she needed to go. Kiwi was in Night City, in SoCal. She was currently hiding in an airport terminal in Vladivostok avoiding the roving mercs that had been hired by Arasaka to find her and doubtlessly bring her home. She had lucked out in not being home when they hit the little hole in the wall she’d staked out, but that left her running scared in the Russian winter. And if the name didn’t give it way, it was Fucking Cold, capital letters included. 

Lucy didn't really have the time to come up with something better than this particular hail mary, though, which sucked all kinds of dick. It wasn’t like she could try selling herself or her skills with That Bitch on her ass from Florence to Paris to Kiev. She had hoped that putting half a planet between them would be enough. No, it had to be enough, because despite the total shitshow her life had become in the last decade, she had been at least passingly happy.

It had all gone wrong so fast, and it had just kept going wrong from that point on. She had built a life, one away from the eyes of Arasaka and their pervasive reach across the planet. She had finally started coming to terms with the horror that was her childhood, and had been accepted into the underground as a skilled netrunner. Then her team had been ripped apart by a Black Ops squad on a milkrun, her friends tortured for her location, giving her barely enough time to grab her bug out bag and wipe her accounts, and from there? She’d seen every miserable alley, burned out building and stolid cesspit Europe had to offer, and all the worst kinds of scum in between. If they weren’t after her organs, or her chrome, they were after her ass, literally, because she was cursed with those youthful good looks that made her seem just shy of legal that most of the trafficking strongholds in the new-old Soviet Bloc nations coveted. She’d killed… a lot of people, from shady coyotes to would-be pimps to a dozen shifty gang bangers, all of them eyeing her up like a piece of meat.

America had to be better than that. And she absolutely did not want to put herself at the mercy of her captors, so when staying wasn’t a choice and hiding was just a slow roll of the dice, leaving was the best possible option. Which is how she found herself wedged under a desk in a Russian airport at two in the morning. Because the fuck she could afford a goddamn international ticket. And even if she could, it wasn’t like the NUSA were particularly welcoming. Gone were the days of green cards and safe immigration. She needed a ton of paperwork to go anywhere, even in the areas that were only paying lip service to the greater whole. Shit, the Republic of Texas tended to hang border jumpers as spies on principle.

She had to sneak on, and the plan, such as it was, was pretty simple. There were a number of SovOil flights heading out to Night City, and getting onto one couldn’t be that hard. She would ship herself there. The big ultra-jumbo haulers were weighted to the ounce, but adding an extra package, like say, herself, and then slipping in a few lines of code to adjust the automatic fueling and countercheck systems to ignore the discrepancy was much more doable. Of course those systems were airgapped. She had accounted for that, slipping in like she did.

She wasn’t expecting the depths of security between her and the terminal she needed, though. She didn’t have the time for something fancy, so hacking cameras, causing distractions, and doing a lot of crawling around in some of the most disgusting drainage systems around the traffic control tower were par for the course. But she did make it. She even managed to get to the server terminals without setting anything off.

That was about when things went to shit, as one might expect. It wasn’t even her fault. She had been perfect, far as she could tell. No, a faction of Russian Vory had been caught on the runway  for the same fucking jumbo she had been angling to stow away on. When she adjusted the system for herself, it reset the tolerances, revealing sixty tons of pure opium that a bunch of gangsters were loading onto the back end of the plane. This, of course, summoned the local security forces, who, given that this was a major airport, consisted of ex-military security contractors armed with automatics, explosives, and a fucking battle-borg with a small tank cannon strapped to it’s arm to engage the dozen strong syndicate operatives.

Then someone fired a rocket into the plane, fucking her own plan in the ass and forcing her to exfiltrate. Finding the passenger liner she did was a small miracle, as it was prepping to take off, a little firefight on the adjoining runway not enough to justify delaying what were certain to be some very rich people who paid very good money to fly out of Russia. She quickhacked a panel in the bottom of the plane open, slipped in, buried her ass in the deepest part of the aircraft she could find and hoped that nobody cared to check out the extra sixty kilos of girl that had been added to the cargo hold.

She had planned to hide out there, and that had almost killed her outright. As it turned out they didn’t pressurize the cargo hold and a combination of the air thinning out and the frankly sub-zero temperatures that were even colder than the Russian Winter had been bad, but the pressure change left her bleeding out her ears as she desperately forced herself to crack four different firewalls to access the crew storage area. She had also barely quashed the alarm that the pressurized part of the plane was exposed to the unpressurized part, which it absolutely was not supposed to do. All in all, wedging herself in the cabinets and hoping that nobody needed the napkins she was tucked behind was the best shot she had.

That had somehow worked. She was free and clear to Night City ten agonizing hours later, slipping off and out of the airport with as much grace as her filthy, sweaty, half-frozen ass could manage, and off to find Kiwi’s apartment.

Then the psycho bitch’s door mounted proximity mine had almost blown her rather pretty face all over the wall across from her apartment and the rest was history.

000

Lucy picked at her bowl of lukewarm cereal as Kiwi sat across for her, a distinctly unimpressed look crossing the chemical blonde’s barely expressive face as she stared at her. The cyberpsycho with the sword was standing not far behind, watching the two of them as he are one of those flavorless nutrition bars that the older hacker seemed to have stashed away nearly everywhere in the apartment. Not that she had room to complain about that, having, you know, tracked her down, broke into her house, and set up camp like the world’s sexiest squatter. In her defense, it had only been a couple of days, and she could pay for the food and the water, at least. Assuming Kiwi didn't just have her killed by her pet lunatic.

Admittedly if Lucy had known about that little detail she might have risked setting up camp somewhere else. What was even with that? The gonk sniffed her out like some kind of bloodhound and then instead of investigating or asking questions of anything else, he chose violence and almost skewered her through the forehead. Nobody could blame her for pissing herself when that happened. Nobody expects to get a fucking katana through the door until it actually happens.

Kiwi was admittedly less than impressed.

“So let me get this straight. Based on bare bones location data, with no plan, and no money, you hacked your way onto a suborbital, hid in a storage cupboard on the jet, escaped through one of the wheel wells, and then tracked down my apartment. From there, you disabled the six daemons I had guarding my door access, disarmed the directional mine, added yourself to my security turret’s FOF, tapped into my FoodBinge account and bought yourself breakfast.” Kiwi said, in the flattest deadpan she’d ever heard. “We only spoke three or four times on the net. You had nothing but a masked handle to go on, and to be frank my cybersecurity is fucking spectacular. I would be more pissed if I wasn’t so goddamn impressed.”

“So are we keeping her?” The psycho asked, amused, as Kiwi’s head shot around to glare at him. “Come on, Ki, I don’t know what half that shit means and I’m impressed.”

“Shut up, Noh.” She snapped, and Lucy almost giggled. Almost, because one of those purple nails was between her eyes in an instant, with the older woman not even looking at her. “You too, squatter. I still have no idea how you got through my netcurity. You will be explaining that when we’re done here, and then I have a date with my ripper, and both of you are coming with me. You,” she looked at Noh with a cutting glare, “Because your dumb ass needs to be checked over, and you,” she eyed Lucy, “Because I don’t trust you to run up my fucking FoodBinge account. I’ll figure out what to do with you later.”

“She’s so mean. Isn’t she mean, squatter?” He asked Lucy in a put upon tone. Kiwi just stood up and punched him in the bicep, giving him a look before storming off towards her room. Lucy tried very hard not to stare at her ass while she stormed off. She hadn’t bothered to dress before interrogating the younger woman, and holy shit, that was a whole thing, because Kiwi was naked the whole time. She was;t gay, but still, hot.

Then the psycho, Noh, sat down across from her and put his sword on the table, shaking her out of her daze “So.” He started, “Whatcha running from?”

“W-what? What gave you that idea?” Lucy lied, badly. Noh just stared at her, finger tapping the sword. Tap tap tap, each one making her flinch a little as his eyes bored holes into hers. After a moment she cringed lightly and realized how stupid that sounded. “What gave it away?”

Noh paused, thinking about his answer, before seeming to find the words. “Look, I’ve been running from or to something ever since I met Kiwi.” Technically true. “And I like to think to myself that I know what it is that looks like. You dig?” He asked, and Lucy nodded along, as he leaned back, watching her like a particularly large owl would watch a mouse it wasn’t sure it was ready to eat yet. She had seen it in a documentary once.

“Good. So my question is this, squatter. Is whatever you’re running from going to knock down a wall and come charging in in a couple of days looking for your pale ass?” He asked, almost casually. She felt the edge in his voice, though. “Because that would really harsh my chill, you know? It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“N-no? No I don’t think so?” She hated how unsure she sounded, and Noh sighed. There was a flicker of movement, and in an instant Jucy’s chin was held in that iron grip, the tall man looming over her as he forced her to look up into his cold eyes. In that instant, her entire spine locked up as he leaned down, into her bubble, and her jaw creaked from how hard he held her.

“I don’t think we’re communicating clearly. So let's try again.” He said, and Lucy tried to pull herself out of his grip, to little effect. Her hands came up to grab his arm, wishing she had the eddies to have gotten those monowires she wanted, “When I ask you if your problems are going to become our problems, I need an answer here, okay? Not your best guess.”

“Nuh!” She finally forced out as his grip slowly tightened, “Nuh, ‘ey wunt!” Lucy grunted when she realized that he wasn’t going to let her go. He just cocked his head, like some kind of demented bird, studying her, and her jaw was slowly beginning to creak under the strain.

“Let her go, Noh.” Kiwi said, from behind him, and the pressure was gone immediately. “The fuck was that?” She had thrown on some kind of netsuit under a red coat that was really very striking and Lucy would have appreciated that if the bottom half of her face wasn’t throbbing in a very unfun way.

Noh, for his part, was entirely unapologetic. “What? You gave me the nod.” He said, almost whining. Kiwi stared at him like he was a particularly dim bulb, before sighing.

“That was the ‘keep an eye on her’ nod, you gonk. Not the ‘rip off her lower mandible’ nod.” She said with an almost growl, before turning to look at Lucy, “I’m sorry for him, he’s like a third of a human being on a good day.”

“Hey fuck you, Ki. I’m at least half.” He grunted, before something occurred to him. “And I could have sworn that was the mandible nod. We really need to work on our nod communication. Shit’s confusing…” He grumbled as he stalked off to go grab his coat.

Kiwi just sighed and shook her head, as Lucy stared from him to her and back again, because honestly? That went better than she thought it would. Last time she pulled this stunt she got shot, so hey, improvement. Granted that was bullshit, Noh was one bad nutribar from murdering everyone probably and Kiwi, who she had kinda hoped would be sympathetic, both wasn’t and also a crazy nudist. But she hadn’t officially been booted, and she hadn’t been stabbed, despite Noh’s apparent best efforts, so she could work with that. Probably.

000

Her time in Night City, or rather, the week she’d been there, had been both horrifying and highly educational. It wasn’t the lawless hellpit that had been the Time of the Red, but the signs of it only just being a bit past those dark days were all around. The sheer amount of homelessness was shocking, but statistically Night City was considered to have around forty percent unemployment, and people had to live somewhere. Usually in a combination of encampments, shantytowns, dump-adjacent land or Pacifica, which had an unusually high crime rate for Night City, which Lucy felt said everything she needed to know. She had also seen no less than fifteen dead bodies, two abductions, nine murders, and all manner of depravity and deprivation besides. Drugs, prostitution, flesh trafficking, chrome trafficking, theft of every flavor, and all of it underpinned by a society that took its vaunted Second Amendment with an almost monomaniacal focus. Everyone had a gun. Everyone. That had been a shock, seeing a woman not much larger than she was hauling a full on assault rifle down the street without anyone batting an eye.

Given her European origins, that was a hell of a shock. She had gotten a personafix chip to hide her accent while she acclimated, but the sheer shock of every man, woman and child carrying some kind of iron had shaken her worldview. Shit, she passed by a Kang Tao advertisement talking about how their latest .22 subcompact was perfect for a toddler-sized shooter, and to buy now, buy early, and buy often. It was almost as pervasive as the sex ads, which, her first Chromanticore ad had been wild. That thing was just… right fucking there, in her face.

But that was besides the point. Back in the EU it had been rare to see anything more than a pistol outside certain very specific instances. She had avoided the loud jobs like the plague, even though they tended to pay better. She was never terribly comfortable with violence like some of the others she’d known, not that it was any kind of hindrance to her pulling the trigger. It was mostly just a preference thing. Here, that was the preferred way of life, and she knew she’d have to evolve to survive it.

Which brought her to her two erstwhile companions. Kiwi was someone she had misread, badly. The two had shared a lot online, enjoying the kind of anonymity that you could only get from a stranger. Despite Kiwi downplaying things, they had been messaging a lot, when Lucy had the chance. She was the closest thing the netrunner had to a friend, which was why she had thought this was perhaps doable, showing up out of the blue like she had. She had thought that would be enough to get her some kind of in, but that wasn’t the case. Granted, Lucy had gone about it pretty badly, but hell, what choice did she have?

She… probably shouldn’t have hacked her FoodBinge account. But she was starving, nobody was home, and she couldn’t have accounted for Kiwi apparently being out on a job for the last several days. Or that she would apparently have an input? Or a… pet? She wasn’t really sure what Noh was. Kiwi never mentioned him before, but he followed her around like a giant, murderous lost puppy. Not that that wasn’t a whole thing on its own, but while she had been forced to reevaluate Kiwi, he was a wildcard that threw everything else out the window.

The fact that he reminded her of some of the scarier borgs she’d ever met wasn’t a point in his favor, and while the whole byplay between the two of them seemed almost playful, something about it was… concerning. Like there was an undertone of seriousness to Noh’s whining, where he really did think Kiwi had sicced him on her like the bad cop in a period crime drama. She had no doubt that he would have ripped her jaw clean off if he thought he would have had to, and given that her handful of attempts to scan him or ping him had come back blank was even more worrying. If he came after here there was literally nothing she could do to slow him down except beg Kiwi for mercy was almost worse than the feeling of being hunted across Europe. And given that she knew Kiwi’s home address, she was fairly certain that just taking her leave would be off the table.

It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go.

“So what’s the dealio, Ki? Where we goin’?” Noh asked, as he munched on another nutribar, his fifth one in an hour. He was feeling peckish, so sue him. “Figured you’d be making sweet love to a pillow right now.”

“I would be, if I didn’t have this fucking polyp on my neck.” Kiwi sighed as the three walked down the street. “I can’t even call my bike with this thing plugged in.” The masked woman groaned as rubbed her face. “Sooner it’s gone the better. Fortunately I know a guy who’ll see walk-ins and isn’t a total fucking skeeze. ‘Bout as back alley as it gets though.”

“Oh?” Noh asked, curiously as Lucy watched his gaze land on three cyberpunks wearing Maelstrom colors. They didn’t seem interested in anything but the fire barrel they had burning though, and she could almost see him dismiss them as they walked. He had been training behind Kiwi and in front of her, almost orbiting the two of them with a hand on that katana of his. Not that she blamed him. Twilight in Night City was not someplace she wanted to be out alone, and even their little group felt a little too exposed to her.

He didn’t seem to be too bothered, and Kiwi seemed oddly comfortable despite the several gangers that seemed to infest the Kabuki district, if her internal map wasn’t wrong. Most of them seemed to mind their own business, though they had been followed for a block by what Lucy was fairly certain were Scavs. They had been a problem in Europe too, especially the closer she got to Russia, but here they were like roaches. Nobody who knew really bought the whole ‘independent’ line that they tried to sell. Everyone knew they were fingers of the Consortium and anyone with sense knew not to point it out.

Either way, Noh spotted them out pretty quick and they seemed to find something other than them to care about. One of the small advantages of having someone who was obviously a Borg in the group. Nobody wants to fuck with one if they don’t need to. At least, that was what Lucy had thought, before reading about Maelstrom during her research. Just the idea of a borg gang sent shivers down her spine, given their relative rarity in the EU. It was just one more thing for her to get used to.

“Yeah. Vik’s good people, even if he’s kinda preachy sometimes. Doesn’t cut corners like that fat fuck Ryder.” She shuddered, lightly. “Prick tried to slip some watchware into my optics a few years ago, claimed it was a mistake when I called him out on it. He was too well connected for me to do anything about it though.”

“That sucks.” Noh hummed, in a way that Lucy didn’t like, and Kiwi stopped and looked at him with a gimlet eye.

“No, Noh. I know that tone, and I don’t need you making waves.” Kwi said, staring, and for a moment he seemed to freeze, before shrugging.

“I didn’t even say anything, Ki. I would never.” He lied unconvincingly, but Kiwi just sighed and let it go. “Following your lead here.” He said, giving her a wide grin, and Lucy could almost see his priorities shifting. It was so damn weird to see from the outside, and she didn’t know if that was just his normal, but Kiwi didn’t seem to notice, so she let it go unsaid.

They were weird with each other, even though it was a comfortable weird. Lucy had spent years mastering the art of reading people, she’d had to, and these two were throwing up all kinds of signals that left her more confused than anything. Maybe it was a sex thing? She knew a few guys like that. Big, scary motherfuckers that could rip a man in half, but liked to be led around on a leash and given headpats and shit when they weren’t actively murdering something to death.

She didn’t see the attraction, but this was America. People were weird here. Her friend was weird, her murder puppy was weird, and this whole city left her feeling weird too, because this wasn’t the worst neighborhood she’d ever been in, but the whole place felt unfamiliar and unwelcome. Night City was a new jungle and the closest thing she had to an ally hadn’t had time to process that she kinda sorta broke into her house. Being fitted with a jammer made some sense, and also told her that Kiwi had not had a good time on her last job, and that shit would hit the fan once she managed to get that off her and get a real night’s sleep.

Lucy just hoped that she would get to stay the night in the meantime. Honestly she wasn’t sure what Kiwi would want to do with her now that things had come to a head. They hadn’t really talked much outside of the older woman taking the time to listen to her sob story, and then leaving her to Noh. She was fairly certain if Kiwi wasn’t thinking of something else that she would have been kicked out then and there. And hey, if she wanted Lucy to work to earn her room and board then she would. Lucy was good at what she did, she could be useful.

“Welcome to Misty’s Esoteri- Kiwi!” Lucy was torn from her thoughts by the bubbly cheer of a rather energetic blonde woman in a spiked necklace, who had all but pranced forward and taken the tall woman’s hands in her own. “I haven’t seen you in weeks! Where’ve you been?”

“Misty.” Kiwi nodded, letting herself be dragged deeper into the shop, leaving Noh and Lucy to share a look before he strode after her. Looking around curiously, the small woman picked up one of the small crystal statuettes, carved in the shape of a yin/yang symbol. The walls were lined with them, of all different types and denominations, along with hanging scrolls, and even what looked like real, actual bonsai trees. Along the furthest wall stood one of those new-age cyber-Buddas that had started cropping up in recent years, not just in Night City but worldwide, though Lucy still didn’t know what that was about. It was still eyecatching, and for a shop talking about esoterica, a bunch of crystals and statues weren’t the worst thing the young woman could be selling.

“-need to see Vik, if he’s in, sorry. I need to get something looked at.” She heard Kiwi as she followed along, finding the three out in the alley behind the shop. “Job was kinda rough, you know?”

“Of course, yeah! I’m sorry things went rough. Lemme just…” Misty’s eyes had lit up for a moment, before she smiled at Kiwi. “He can see you now, yeah. You got lucky, he was about to pack up.”

“Had to happen eventually.” Kiwi said with a bit of a wan tone to her voice. “Noh, I’ll see if Vik’ll check you out once he gets this thing off me. Don’t get lost. You too, Kushinada.” She called over her shoulder as she headed down the stairs with a wave, leaving the three to stand there awkwardly. Lucy rubbed her arm as she glanced between the two, not really sure what to say. Fortunately, Misty came to her rescue.

“So!” Misty clapped, “Can I get either of you something? Tea maybe?” The question was delivered with the same endless enthusiasm as Noh followed along behind her, Lucy following in his wake.

“I could have some tea, sure.” Noh said, and Misty nodded, prancing over to a small tea pot she had bubbling away on a hotplate and leaving the two to stand there, Noh just seeming to fall into some kind of rest mode while Lucy kind of shifted away from him. He glanced at her immediately, with a raised eyebrow, leaving the pale woman to blush lightly and scowl, more at herself than him. She knew better than to let that kind of thing show.

The seconds dragged on as the two watched Misty, before Noh glanced over to stare at the cyber-Budda, before looking back at her. “It wasn't personal.” He said, finally, startling Lucy. She glanced at him and tried to figure out what brought this on.. “Really, it wasn’t. Been a rough few days. Lots of people chasing us.” He grunted. “Been on edge.”

“I get it.” Lucy sighed. “I don’t care. It’s fine.” And that should have been the end of that, but Noh kept looking at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” He said, but he kept staring.

“No seriously, what is it?” She asked after another moment, her hackles rising.

“It’s nothing.” He said, before turning back to Misty, who had been making her way back with a few small cups on a tray. “Thank you, Misty.” The tea was warm, and smelled excellent, rich and earthy to Lucy’s nose, but she kept peeking at Noh from the corner of her eye. Christ, he was weird…

“So how do you know Kiwi?” Misty asked, and boy wasn’t that a question that caught Lucy’s attention. She’d been curious too, but had been hesitant to bring more attention to herself by prying. She knew he had to be a new addition, or Kiwi would have probably mentioned him. She’d never been shy about talking about other edgerunners she’d wound up working with.

“Recent addition.” He sipped the tea, “This is good!” He blinked as he looked at the cup in his hand.

“Glad you like it, it’s a bitch to get in and twice as expensive, but I refuse to compromise on my tea.” Misty laughed, before glancing around at the shop. “So what do you think? I’m always interested in what new people think. Like it?”

“It’s different, I guess. Seems to mix and match a lot, though. Religious iconography, vaguely Asian tapestries, bonsai everywhere. Nice vibe, weird execution, I guess.” Noh shrugged, and sipped his tea. Misty chuckled at that, instead of taking offense, and in doing so raised Lucy’s estimation of the woman just a bit. She didn’t seem like the type, but you never knew.

“Fair, fair. When I got started it was a little more… directed, I guess, but I’ve had to adjust to the theme to fit the clientele. Lots of different ideologies and beliefs in NC, yanno?” Misty said, stepping over and picking up something from a table with her cash register on it. Holding it up, the two saw the tarot deck in her hand. “Like these. You’d be surprised how many people want to get a reading, and I like to think I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” She gave him a sly look. “Think you might wanna give it a try? First one’s free.”

“Says the dealer to the junkie.” Noh snorted, getting an eyeroll from Misty. “But sure, why not?” He said as he stepped over to her table, seeing her shuffling the cards. For all the setup, Noh had to admit she was pretty slick in her execution, as he slid into the seat across from her. “So how does this work, exactly? Need me to say some magic words or something?”

“No, nothing like that,” Misty said, giggling, “Just relax and let me do my thing, k?” She asked, and Noh tilted his head curiously as she shuffled the cards again and again. There was something almost mesmerizing watching her fold the cards together, the deck stretching long in her spiderlike fingers, each card dancing across the others. She was good, real good, Noh realized, as he watched her shuffle, and on and on it went. Five, six, sevenfold, the cards were folded together, and then…

“The Tower, upright.” The card slid out cleanly, sliding onto the table like a serpent. “Ominous. It symbolizes the upheaval or the new order and the remnants of the old. Something that was there before has crumbled, changed forever into something radically different.” Misty frowned. “But more than that, it feels like… what was old isn’t gone, just swallowed up under the surface. Deep depths hide old secrets, roiling and ready to rise again, at the right time.”

She drew the next card slowly, and glanced at it as she set it down. The black, skull-faced figure stared up at her, upside down, facing Noh with its forked tongue and raised blade. “Death, reversed…” She went quiet for a moment, pondering it, before she spoke again, in a hushed tone. “Death isn’t an end, but a sign of change. Reversed it implies stagnation, a refusal to change, a… sense of being trapped, in between states. You’re pulled between the currents, trapped by something you can’t escape, not easily. It’s like you’ve been entangled, choked by the cocoon of who you were and who you’ve become. A half-life, in other words.” She looked at him, really looked, and seemed to see something that made her look away.

She drew the third card quickly, setting it down. The picture of a man, hanging by his foot met Noh’s gaze, and for a moment, he thought he could see himself, the cable wrapped around his own leg, hanging him high over the abyss. He blinked, and the image was gone, just a picture on a card, but Misty’s lips cut a sharp frown as she began to speak.

“The Hanged Man, upright. The card signifying sacrifice, surrender, the pause before a fall, and the brief moment of hesitation before being sent on the path of death and rebirth. I… I don’t understand this one.” Misty said, as she leaned back. “I’m sorry, but the path here is muddled, like it’s not supposed to be the right card, but it’s the one that was drawn. Like it’s not supposed to be yours. The Hanged Man is indicative of the road ahead, but it feels like this was your past, like it had already happened, and the echoes of it are all that remain.”

“Weird.” Noh said, hiding his thoughts behind a vaguely amused hum. Misty shook her head, like she was trying to clear it. “So that’s it?”

“Well… no. There’s supposed to be one more draw but that last one was… I dunno. I might have messed it up. That can happen sometimes.” Misty shrugged. “It’s up to you though.”

“Eh, why not. What’s the harm?” Noh asked, giving her a grin. Misty shuffled the deck again, and gave him a grin, though it was less confident than before. She still drew the last card, but there was a caution there.

“The Devil, upright.” She said, with a breathless sigh, as the grinning face stared up at them all, its red eyes glowing almost ominous under the dim mood lights of the shop. Misty didn’t say anything, and a moment passed, then another, then a minute, and Noh glanced up at her, only to see that her face had gone pale. “Symbolizing corruption, bondage, addiction, obsession, power and entrapment. For you it… it tells me that you’re consumed by something. Tangled up by something you can’t control, that you don’t understand, not yet. But whatever it is, it’s got its claws in you deep. Something exists within you, an anchor, holding you under the water, keeping you from being able to even see the surface. Finding it and severing the chain is the only path you have forward.”

“Well, shit.” Noh said, leaning back. “That was pretty heavy, huh?”

“I’m sorry, genuinely.” Mistay said, and she sounded like it. “I’ve never gotten a reading that dark before. I hope it didn’t worry you.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He waved her off, standing. “Shit happens, but I don;t really believe in that kinda stuff. I have to admit, that was a neat trick with the shuffling though, really got me invested.” He turned to look at Lucy, who had drifted away to the massage chairs that sat along the far wall. She seemed rather content relaxing there, under the humming ministrations. He rolled his eyes at that.

“Trick…?” Misty seemed to chew on the word, before shaking her head, “Sorry, yeah I’m still pretty new to the whole reading thing, so I probably got a bunch wrong. Tell you what,” She said, gathering up the cards, “Come back some time later and I’ll give you another one on the house, k?”

“Yeah, alright. I can do that.” He said, stretching, as he spotted Kiwi making her way back in, the woman seeming to be in a better mood than she had been in days. “Hey Ki. How’d it go?” Kiwi looked at him, before glancing to the insensate Lucy, before looking back at him.

“It was fine. Vik had the defroster for the jammer’s ICE on hand. The thing was a piece of shit that apparently barely managed to keep functioning. According to him it would have basically broken on its own in a couple of days.” Kiwi sighed, before kicking Lucy in the leg, jolting her back to reality. “I see you’ve gotten comfortable. Get up, I need to get you checked for trackers and I need to get him deloused.”

“I’m not a dog, Ki.” Noh protested to nobody as Misty tried to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Besides, if I had fleas you’d be crawling with them by now.” The tall man said with a wry grin.

“Don’t remind me. Now up you get. I need to have a word with Lucy.” Kiwi waved as she sent him off. Noh just shook his head, already getting used to Kiwi’s tendency to roll over whatever he might otherwise say, knowing it was pointless to argue. She was the expert after all. He gave the three women a parting wave as he trundled out back and down the stairs, finding a sliding gate already open and waiting for him.

Stepping inside he found himself looking at a rather nondescript and surprisingly organic man in his late fifties, dark black hair slicked back and a rough five-o-clock shadow on his face. He turned to Noh from what looked like a boxing match on a small TV in front of him, the highlights muted. “So you’re the stray Kiwi picked up. Noh, right? I’m Viktor Vector.” He held out a hand, and Noh shook it. For someone with barely any chrome, Noh was almost surprised by how firm his grip was.

“That’s right. Apparently Ki thinks I need some… delousing, was the word?” Noh hummed, and Viktor gave a laugh. “I’m not sure if I should feel offended at that.” The laughter came natural to him, and the grin easy. The ripper looked at him with a hiked eyebrow, as he led Noh to the chair.

“Don’t take it personal, son. You must be new to’ve never heard the term before.” Viktor said, as he slipped on his ripperglove, the needles and sensors built in flexing and pulsing as he shifted his hand. “Delousing is just what they call a bug check. Make sure you aren’t running any spyware or transmitting anything your friends wouldn’t want you to. It’s not uncommon for new… members, shall we call it, of the community to pick up a few unwanted hanger-ons in their early career.” He said as he hooked a cable into one of Noh’s ports.

“Far as it goes,” He continued, “Your ripper should have been doing this for you as a courtesy, since most of the stuff you’ll run into is off the shelf and just needs a quick wipe to clear out. I can tell you’ve had some work done, and at a professional grade, so I’m guessing it’s less you being new to the game and more you being new to town?” Vik asked as Noh felt something roll over him, and his HUD lit up with a notice that there was a diagnostic running from an outside source. He let it through with barely a thought. Kiwi trusted Vik, and he trusted Kiwi, so it was probably fine.

“You could say that. Ki picked me up on her last job and we seem to work well together.” Noh said, barely paying attention to the rolling data that had started rolling over his vision. Vik hummed thoughtfully as he watched the screen next to Noh’s head, his lips etched into a frown. “Is that unusual?”

“For Kiwi? Maybe. She’s not the most social of people.” Vik said as he leaned back and started typing on a tablet out of Noh’s line of sight. “Say, would you mind doing something for me while the diagnostic runs? It’s just a little exam to measure your cyberware compatibility.” The ripperdoc added another cable to the first, before typing another note. “Just something I like to do to get a baseline for your neural load. It’s all above board, just a pretty standard questionnaire, but it’s been useful in keeping all your thinking bits working.”

“Yeah?” Noh asked curiously, and blinked as a form popped up in his ARO. He glanced over it, reading the questions and noticed that most of them were very vague, possibly on purpose, and almost all of them were just some kind of word association. How do you feel about tulips, one through ten, or what comes to mind when you hear the word poop. Silly things that made him roll his eyes as he ran through it. A hundred short questions, and most of them were nonsense.

“Pretty silly, right?” Vik asked after a moment, “You’d be surprised to find out how much it might tell you about your Humanity index though.” The word sounded odd to Noh, and he glanced over at the older man curiously.

“Humanity?”

“It’s the generally accepted term for your cyberware compatibility.” Vik said, typing a few more notes, his face cut in a frown for a moment, before smoothing out. “Wen you get cyberware, a lot of the processing load is dumped into your hindbrain, letting the old organic processor take off some of the stress. Problem is that those processes can interfere with things like emotional regulation and memory. Turns out you can only handle so much information going in before it starts to leak into your thinking brain. You start acting less human, hence, your Humanity.” He said. “Cyberpsychosis is the result of losing too much of your humanity, but that’s more of a catchall term for the rampant buildup of mental disorders that can hit you when your brain is spending too much time and energy trying to make your eyeballs shoot lasers.”

“Ah. Makes sense, I guess.” Noh said, going back to the exam. “Gues this is supposed to give you an idea on how much I can take.”

“That’s the idea, Noh. I’m not like some of those scav rippers who’ll load you up with shit just to come back after you pop and try to recollect their investment, yanno? I like repeat customers.” Vik chuckled, and Noh nodded along. “Besides, Kiwi’s been coming to me for a while. She paid well to get you sorted out. Plus I kinda like her, so I’m grateful you pulled her ass out of the fire.”

“She told you about that?” Noh asked, surprised. Vik just chuckled at the question.

“Not in so many words, no, but she gave me the highlights. Seems you made an impression.” Vik said as he drifted off back to his diagnostic readings. “Huh. This is weird.”

“Hm?” Noh asked, turning his attention back to the boxer. “What’s weird?”

“I’m not… sure? I’ve never seen ‘ware like this before, kid. It’s throwing up some weird readings.” Vik said, frowning. “Did you finish that assessment yet?”

“Uh… yeah.” Noh said, feeling a bit off center, as he sent the form back to Vik. “The whole thing was pretty simple, like you said. Is everything okay? That isn’t a ‘everything is copacetic’ face, Viktor.”

“No, yeah… it’s… Noh, do you mind if I ask where you got this stuff put in? I understand needing privacy in this line of work but I uh… I feel compelled to ask.” For the first time, Vik’s easy demeanor was all business, and that set the other man on edge. “Some of what I’m reading here doesn’t make any kind of sense.”

“Wish I could tell you, boss. Kiwi didn't tell you just how we met, did she?” The question was loaded, Vik could tell, but he shook his head. “Let's just say I’m suffering from some memory problems.”

Vik was quiet for a long minute after that, staring at the screens in front of him, before he sighed, leaned back and rubbed his eyes, before steeling himself. “Noh, I don’t know what to tell you. I ran these diagnostics half a dozen times, and all the readings are coming back the same.” He said, before spinning the screen to face the bearded swordsman. “Take a look at this. This is a standard human brain. When we put in neuralware, generally we hook trodes and inlines directly into various parts of it, to increase functionality. It’s the most invasive type of cyberware you can get, because every direct line exponentially increases the load. Following with me?”

Noh nodded, as Vik continued. “Even the most invasive neuralware, Speedware, or Doll Suites, only replace fragments of the brain, using nanoprogramming to reroute brain function from meat to metal. Generally this is incredibly traumatic to the brain’s tissue if abused, causing actual burns from overheating and cooking your noggin in the process. It’s why Dolls generally have a shelf life of a few years, before they either need to get rid of the Suite or get turned into a particularly animated vegetable. Generally you lose between three and five percent of the brain this way.” Vik then flicked the screen, showing another brain, this one covered in strange splotches and partitioned up like someone had cut it up and dropped the chunks into their own little boxes.”

“This is your brain, Noh. Whatever cyberware you’re running, whatever was done to you or how it was put in, I can’t say. You’re missing more than forty percent of your grey matter, and what’s left is a mix of tumor-riddled slurry and threaded with nanofilament wire. If you hadn’t strolled in here on your own power, I wouldn’t believe this was anything but somebody’s idea of a sick joke.” Vik said, as he shifted the data stream to show how everything looked, and it wasn’t even recognizable as a brain any more, just a contoured mass of meat shaped to fit into a skull.

“So I should be a vegetable, is what you’re saying.” Noh said, finally.

“No,” Vik said, staring at him, “No, what I’m saying, kid, is you shouldn’t even be alive to begin with.”