20 – Date Night

Addie followed Tony through the Ninety-Nine, thankful for the comforting bulk of her bullet-resistant, yellow bomber jacket. It wasn’t that she thought someone might attack them in the club—no, it was more that she was feeling self-conscious about the outfit she’d purchased prior to going there. With her jacket on, it wasn’t so bad. Only the bottom of her shimmering, iridescent, microfiber slip dress was exposed, and below its colorful fabric, her shiny new knee-high black boots were actually rather confidence-boosting.

Addie had fallen in love with the boots the moment she saw them—thick soles and high heels adorned with faux chrome jet engines on the back that glowed with fiery flickers like they were about to take off. Tony liked them too, and he’d told her about a chromed-out fighter he’d known who used boots with real jets to pull off all kinds of crazy maneuvers and attacks. Addie still hadn’t figured out if he was pulling her leg. Regardless of all that, she liked the boots because they made her feel a lot taller, and they were just so…shiny.

Tony was wearing his “runner” jacket, too, but his new pants were on display—midnight blue, mid-rise, slim-fitting, and made of some kind of memory fiber that made them look fresh-pressed no matter how he moved or sat. Of course, he’d picked up some new footwear, too. They were dress boots, matte black with shiny silver-chrome toe guards. They looked almost like cowboy boots to Addie, but Tony pulled them off just fine—it was almost criminal.

Addie could feel more attention on her than usual, and while that might have had something to do with the hour—the club was in full swing—she felt like it also had a lot to do with her hair and makeup; she’d gone well above and beyond her usual ponytail and lip gloss. She hadn’t exactly tried to go full corpo-glam, but she’d definitely pushed the boundary. She’d swept her hair into a loose twist, pinned up with a set of chromed filament sticks, the ends of which glowed faintly in pink and purple hues.

Her makeup was way outside her usual comfort zone, and she’d made JJ help her with some templates. Her eyes had a light, silvery metallic flick at each corner and some dark blue shadow on her lids, dusted very lightly with glitter. Of course, she wore lip gloss, but this time it was faintly blue-violet, and she’d put just enough glow cream on her cheeks to catch the light. All in all, she felt good, and she wasn’t exactly hating the attention she thought she was getting, even though, in all honesty, she knew it was probably in her head.

When they reached the back hallway that led to the private booth where Torque usually set up shop, Tony approached the big, gun-armed bodyguard watching the door and asked, “Is he available?”

“Wait,” the guy grunted, his unnerving black and red bullseye irises scanning Tony and Addie up and down while his lips moved faintly. Addie thought he was probably subvocalizing, but his black, plasteel throat might make it difficult to do it surreptitiously. “You can go in.” He took one step to his left, clearing the doorway.

When it hissed open, sliding to the side, Tony went through, and Addie followed. Torque sat in the booth, as usual, but his assistant wasn’t there; her little side table was empty. Regardless, the man seemed jovial enough as he slapped the table. “Shepherd and Ember—two of my favs! How’s it going? Here for some work? I’ve got a couple of little jobs that need doing. You done any thinking about tiering up like I suggested? Your SOA profiles say no, but…”

Tony stood to the side, giving Addie room to slide into the booth as he replied, “Not yet. We’re here to make a deal for some info.”

“Oh, yeah?” Torque reached up to pull his blue-tinted shades off. He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, giving Tony an appraising look. “Got some business on the side? Working with another fixer?”

Addie, always a people pleaser, was quick to answer, “No, Torque, it’s for a story I’m doing.”

As Tony sat down beside her, Torque nodded, rubbing his chin. “Alright, alright, I can clock that. So? What’s up? What do you need from old Torque?”

Tony looked at Addie, raising an eyebrow, and she got the impression he was handing things off to her, at least for the moment. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth, but then Torque said, “Hey, you’re looking all dolled up, Ember. You two got something fun going on?”

Addie hated that she blushed, but she kept her eyes focused on Torque’s as she replied, “We’re just getting a drink after this.”

“Nice, nice. Gotta take time to enjoy the view while you’re climbing the mountain, you know?”

“Yep.” Tony reached a hand under the table to grasp Addie’s, and a new kind of heat flushed the back of her neck.

Again, she cleared her throat, trying to gather her thoughts. “Anyway, we need to talk to a spark, preferably one who’s not some corpo-goon. You know any operators like that?”

“Sparks make big money, sweet—”

“Ember,” Tony interrupted.

Probably very unfamiliar with people interrupting or correcting him, Torque frowned, glancing at Tony, but then he nodded and started again. “Yeah. Sparks make big money and don’t tend to take up residence in the Blast, you feel?”

“There’s no one?” Addie pressed.

“Oh, I didn’t say that, did I? It’s just the ones that are here are here for reasons, right?”

“Hiding out?” Tony guessed.

“Sure, there’s some of that—well, yeah, a lot of that. Anyway, I know someone who owes me a little something. You wanna take on his debt, I’ll put you into a meeting with him.”

Before Tony could, Addie asked, “What are we talking about—debt-wise?”

“How about a favor? I reach out for something in the near future, and you don’t ask questions. Think you can live with that?”

“That’s a little too open-ended for me, Torque,” Tony said, squeezing Addie’s hand.

“Okay, then, I’ll promise the favor won’t take more than a single evening. How about that?”

Tony looked at Addie and raised his eyebrow again, the one over his cybernetic eye socket with the scar. She nodded. “A night’s work for a sit-down with the spark. He has to know about it, too, and be cooperative.”

Torque grinned. “Noted. All right, you two lovebirds. Go have fun—I gotta take a call. I’ll be in touch with the meeting time and place.” He waved one of his ring-covered hands toward the door, and Tony stood up, still holding Addie’s hand, giving her something to pull on as she scooted out of the booth. As they stepped out the door, Torque called, “Hey! Don’t forget to hit me up when you guys pass the exam.”

Addie turned and flashed him a thumbs-up as the door slid shut. Tony started toward the exit, turning sideways to ask, “You wanna just head out or grab a drink first? Nora says, according to chatter on the city-net, Glasslight doesn’t get fun until ten or so.”

Addie glanced at the clock on her AUI—8:42. “Won’t there be a line?”

Tony chuckled, nodding. “Good point. Been a minute since I had to wait to get into a club. All right, let’s roll.” He put an arm over her shoulders, and together, they walked down the carpeted steps to the club and straight for the door. The music was thumping, people were dancing in the open area to her right, and to her left, others were drinking, laughing, and carrying on. The Ninety-Nine wasn’t bad. In fact, they’d had fun there a few times, but Addie wanted to see what one of the upscale places was like. So, with Tony leading the way, they pushed through the crowd by the door and out into the surprisingly chilly air of the Blast.

The van was parked a block down the street, so they started that way, but they hadn’t even cleared the neon glow of the club’s sign before a deep voice, echoing out of the darkness of a nearby alley, called, “Hey, look at this piece of shit, boys.”

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Tony let go of Addie’s shoulder and turned, the amber glow of his chromed-out eye flickering in the dim light as he scowled. “I know you?”

Addie followed his gaze, still coming to terms with the sudden shift in the mood—the tension and underlying threat. Her iris implants weren’t high-end, but they were capable of enhancing the light of the neon to expose the four men striding out of the alley. She recognized the first one immediately. He was big and swaggering, with short dark hair and even darker, mean, emotionless eyes. Then there were the two armor-plated chrome arms attached to his hulking torso. It was none other than Malik the Grinder and three of his Cold Boy banger buddies.

The guys backing him up weren’t so impressive, but the Cold Boys were mean, and they looked serious. Worse, all of them were packing gear—impact batons, knives, spiked knuckle dusters, and more than one firearm.

“Do you know me? You got a smart mouth, shithead. Probably about time someone closed it for you.”

Tony sighed, and, rather than bristle or act macho, he slouched further, tucking one hand in his coat pocket. Everything about his posture and his actions said one thing: this was nothing more than an annoyance to him. Addie, on the other hand, could feel her heart rate quicken and taste the coppery tang of adrenaline as she imagined those four, mean, hardened thugs laying into Tony at once.

As usual, Tony was aware of her stress, and he slowly edged between her and the four bangers as he said, “Didn’t you already try to do that once?”

“Oh, so you do remember me!” Malik thumped one of his huge chromed fists into the other. “You ain’t gonna be able to cheat so easily tonight, you little bitch.”

The three bangers accompanying Malik began to fan out, eyeing Tony and Addie menacingly, and, for the first time, Tony sounded a little on edge when he said, softly, “Back up, Ads. Give us some room.”

Of course, Addie hesitated, not wanting to leave him alone to face the four bangers. Despite the fact that he’d beaten Malik in a fair fight, she knew the creep and his friends had no intention of keeping things fair. Her hesitation was costly because the three bangers moved quickly, surrounding them. “I…”

She was going to say she couldn’t back out now, but let the words die as Tony pointed to her with his thumb and growled, “Leave her out of this.”

“Oh? Leave her out? Where’s the fun in that? Now I know you care, she’s gonna get plenty.” Malik grinned, exposing filed, angular teeth.

Addie scanned the lot in front of the Ninety-Nine. A few people were standing around near the door, smoking chemsticks, the night flaring with blue and red halos as they inhaled. They weren’t interested in the scene, and, sadly, Addie knew all too well that a call for help at night in the Blast was more likely to send people running.

“Ah, dammit,” Tony said with a sigh, slowly turning his head left to right, looking at each of the bangers. “I wish you hadn’t threatened her.”

“You think I give a shit—” Malik started to say, but Tony’s left hand, the one in his pocket, lifted the hem of his jacket, revealing the pistol he had inside his waistband. In a fluid motion that was hard for Addie to track, he drew the gun, pointed, and pulled the trigger three times. Malik’s head snapped back, his body shuddered, and then he collapsed, thudding onto the pavement. Without pause or hesitation, Tony swung his gun toward the banger on his left, squeezing the trigger three more times.

By then, Addie’s brain had caught up with what had just happened, and she had the presence of mind to step back and hold her hand over her ear as Tony’s gun roared. She knew he’d just blasted the banger who was creeping around behind her, but she saw the other two, the ones to Tony’s right, and they were both pulling pistols of their own. The thought occurred to her that she ought to pull the needler out of her coat pocket—her dress couldn’t accommodate a waistband holster—but then Tony swung to face the last two bangers, sidestepping to put himself between them and her.

His gun roared again, but so did another, higher-pitched one. Then, a third gun joined the chaos, an automatic, low-caliber one that filled the night with a brzzt brzzt brzzt

that almost sounded like a dentist’s tool more than a firearm. Tony staggered, then something punched Addie in the shoulder, sending her reeling. More guns roared, and, embarrassingly, all the drills she’d done with Tony fled from her mind, and she only knew one thing: she had to stop those bangers from shooting Tony.

Addie took one step to her right, moving out from behind Tony, and then, when she saw only a single banger still standing—grimacing, leaking blood from half a dozen holes, but still pounding the trigger on his fat, black pistol—she activated the Dust in her reactor, sending it out through the matrix toward her hand. An arc of blue, sizzling electricity snapped out of her palm and smashed into the banger’s chest. His arms flew wide, he vibrated in a violent seizure, and then the arc was gone, and he fell to the pavement, smoking like an overcooked casserole.

Addie looked at Tony, and he lowered the arm he’d been holding over his face. “Um,” he said, as a sheet of blood cascaded down his forehead into his cybernetic eye, “That was perfect timing. I’m out of rounds.”

“You’re hit!” Addie cried, running to him, stretching her fingers toward his hairline.

“I got hit a few times, actually, but this jacket slowed ’em down.” He leaned away from her, then reached up and gingerly prodded at his scalp. “Just a graze.” He nodded toward the dead bangers. “Get their guns, Ads. We gotta get outta here. I’m running on fumes.”

Addie, trying not to let his words send her into a panic, glanced toward the club—the people she’d seen earlier were gone. Tony took things into his own hands and approached Malik, throwing his leather jacket wide so he could pull a big, chrome pistol out of a holster there. “What do you mean you’re on fumes?”

“I’m bleeding out, Ads. I gotta lie down so my nanites can work.”

“Tony!” Addie wailed. “Forget the guns! Let’s get to the van.”

He chuckled. “It’s almost here. Nora’s driving it.” He looked at her, his face ghoulish in the neon light, streaked with blood. “Don’t freak. I’m not gonna die. I’ve got time. Come on; these assholes might have ruined our date, but we’re gonna get paid for it. See if one of those guys has a vibroblade.” He pointed to the two furthest corpses, one of which Addie had made.

“A, uh, vibroblade? Why?”

Tony nudged one of Malik’s big, chrome arms. “These are worth a few bits, for sure.”

“Tony!” Despite her distaste for the idea, she could tell he was serious, so Addie walked over to the two dead bangers and, wrinkling her nose at the smell of charred flesh, began searching their pockets, belts, and boots for hidden weapons. The hum of an electric motor and headlights illuminating the scene made her look up in time to see their van pull to a stop outside the alley.

“I got a knife off this guy!” Tony called. “Grab those guns, though.”

Addie picked up the heavy, black pistol near the banger she’d electrocuted. “Thank you for dropping this and not making me pry it out of your smoking fingers,” she muttered. Then she grabbed the sleek, tubular red and black gun from the other banger. It had a very fat magazine, and the end of the barrel had a ring of tiny openings instead of just one. “Is this a needler?” she asked.

“Needler SMG with an absurd rate of fire. Luckily, that dipshit had stealth rounds loaded—they didn’t punch through the jacket.” He grunted. “For the most part.” Addie heard him stumble, so she looked up to see him staggering as he dragged Malik’s two mechanical arms toward the van, leaving a trail of fluids—blood and something that looked orange or pink in the neon light. “Come on, Ads.”

Addie stared for a minute, the scene too surreal to properly register. She hadn’t even heard him fire up the vibroblade, but there he was, dragging two dismembered arms toward their van. Incongruously, her mind chose that moment to jump to his earlier words: Tony had referred to their plans as a “date.”

Smiling, despite the madness of it all, she tucked the two guns under her arm. She winced at the sharp stab of pain in her shoulder as she did so. Had she been shot? She remembered something slamming into her, knocking her back. Had her coat stopped a bullet? She was pretty sure she’d know if it hadn’t. When she reached the van and watched Tony haul the big chrome arms onto the cargo bed, she passed him the guns, and he stacked them with the ones he’d collected.

He reached under his jacket and threw a wicked-looking, curved vibroblade that had to be twenty-five centimeters long onto the stack of weapons. Then, he crawled into the van and collapsed on the cargo bed beside the two dismembered arms. “I might need some blood, Ads. I’m sorry.” The apology was mumbled, and it sounded like he was already slipping into unconsciousness.

Despite his earlier assurances that he’d be fine, Addie felt worry grip her heart, and she contemplated climbing into the van to check on him. The rumble of a combustion engine reminded her of the precarious nature of their situation, though, and she hurriedly slammed the doors shut. She was about to get into the van when another thought hit her. “Their PAIs!”

She jogged around the front of the van, scanning the club's parking lot across the alley as she went. There were people out there again, but so far, none had wandered over. She glanced up—at least a hundred drones were visible in the dark sky, but they were all moving to and fro. Boxer’s hands-off policy about banger behavior was a double-edged sword: nobody was coming to process this crime scene. She didn’t doubt that someone at Boxer corp-sec had already filed away a report about four Cold Boys getting gunned down outside the Ninety-Nine.

All that said, Addie didn’t want the Cold Boys to get ahold of the PAIs Malik and his boys had in their skulls. If someone decrypted the footage of what happened, it could mean more trouble for her and Tony. So, she hurried from corpse to corpse, pulling the chips, their synthetic nerves dripping with fluid that triggered her gag reflex more than once. With a fistful of chips trailing glistening fibers, she hurried back to the van and then got it moving, engaging the AI to travel to Doc Peters’ clinic.

Once they’d cleared the block and made the first turn, she got up and hurried back to check on Tony. He was dead to the world, but his breathing was steady, and there wasn’t a big pool of blood on the floor paneling. She knelt beside him and took the opportunity to gently kiss his temple, right beside his natural-looking eye. “You idiot. I know you only got shot because you wouldn’t move. Because you were protecting me.” She kissed him again, and then she lay down beside him, trying to press her warmth into him as the van made its unhurried progress through the Blast.