## Chapter 1 — An Interesting Proposition Thursday morning had found the Watson safehouse in a state of relative peace. Relative, because Brenda had occupied most of the dining table with an assortment of delicate mechanical components, three open diagnostic displays, and a device whose intended purpose nobody had thought to ask about. Peaceful, because nothing had exploded. Yet. “Brenda,” Mai said. “Mm?” “How much longer?” “Depends.” “On what?” “Whether you mean the calibration or the table.” “The table.” Brenda looked up from her work. “Oh.” Mai waited. Brenda looked at the equipment spread across the polished surface. Then she looked at Mai. “Define longer.” Ace laughed from the sofa. “Wrong answer, Brenda.” “I gathered.” Iris, sitting beside her wife, examined the arrangement with a sympathetic expression that was entirely unconvincing. “I did suggest moving everything to the workshop.” Brenda turned toward her. “You suggested I was working too hard.” “That too.” “Then you kissed me.” “I did.” “Several times.” Iris smiled. “I can do it again.” Brenda considered this. “Compelling argument.” She leaned over and kissed her wife. Mai closed her eyes. “I live with children.” “Married children,” Ace corrected. “Twice over,” Shammy added. Mai turned toward the tall, silver-haired woman sitting at the kitchen counter. “You're supposed to be on my side.” “I am.” “You're laughing.” “I can do both.” The air around Shammy's hair stirred faintly, lifting a few white strands away from her shoulders. Ace noticed. “Oh, she's enjoying herself.” “I usually do,” Shammy said. Ace abandoned the shoe she'd been examining and wandered over to the counter. Mai immediately noticed the shoe. “Is that new?” “No.” “Acquired recently?” Ace paused. “That's a different question.” “Answer it.” “Define recently.” Brenda burst out laughing. Mai looked at the ceiling. “I should have stayed in bed.” Ace slipped an arm around her waist. “You had two excellent reasons to stay there.” Shammy smiled. “Three, depending on how we're counting.” Mai tried to maintain her stern expression. It lasted almost four seconds. Then she kissed Ace, reached past her to touch Shammy's cheek, and returned to the coffee machine. “Both of you are trouble.” “Your trouble,” Ace said. “Unfortunately.” “Permanently.” “That part,” Mai said, “I rather like.” Her holo chimed. She glanced at the name. ROGUE AMENDIARES. Mai raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.” Ace looked over her shoulder. “Who?” “Rogue.” “Tell her I didn't do it.” Brenda immediately looked up. “Didn't do what?” “Whatever she's calling about.” “That's a remarkably broad defense,” Iris observed. “Years of experience.” Mai accepted the call. “Good morning, Rogue.” “Mai.” Rogue sounded entirely too pleased with herself. Mai recognized the tone. It usually meant Rogue had already made a decision and was about to explain why somebody else would be involved. “What have you done?” Mai asked. “Nothing.” “Yet?” “Christ, you people have no faith in me.” “I have considerable faith in you. That's why I'm worried.” Rogue laughed. “Relax. I'm calling with an invitation.” “An invitation?” “To a party.” Mai leaned against the counter. “A party.” “That's generally what they're called.” “With you, it pays to establish definitions.” “Very funny.” “Thank you.” There was a faint clink from Rogue's end of the call. “Saturday night,” Rogue continued. “My annual fixer gathering. Eight of us, each bringing an avec. Good food, drinks, music. Private venue. No business.” Mai's interest sharpened. She knew about Rogue's annual gathering, although only in the way one knew about certain private rituals among Night City's more powerful inhabitants. People talked. Rogue generally declined to. “And you're inviting us?” “I'm inviting Madame Panam's Stable.” Mai went still for a moment. Across the kitchen, Shammy noticed the change in her expression. Ace noticed Shammy noticing. Naturally, that meant both women were now interested. “The Stable,” Mai repeated. “All of it.” “How much of it?” “All eleven.” Mai let that settle. “You're serious.” “Do I sound like I'm joking?” “Not particularly. But I'd like to establish whether you've suffered a recent head injury.” Rogue gave a delighted snort. “God, I knew I should call you first.” “Rogue, eight fixers and their guests already makes sixteen people. You're proposing to add eleven more.” “Very good. Twenty-seven. Your mathematics continue to impress.” “And you've considered what happens when those twenty-seven people start talking to one another?” “That's rather the point.” Mai found herself smiling. “Explain.” Rogue took her time. “Every year, I get the same collection of people together. Different dates, different stories, but the same basic performance. Everyone's terribly important. Everyone knows something nobody else knows. Everyone spends the first hour pretending they aren't evaluating the entire fucking room.” “That sounds familiar.” “It should. You've met fixers.” “I've met you.” “Exactly.” Rogue paused. “This year, I want something different.” “The Stable.” “The Stable.” “Why?” “Because your people are interesting. Because they don't spend every waking moment trying to impress each other. And because I'd like to see what happens when a room full of people who make a living controlling everyone else meets eleven women who aren't particularly interested in being controlled.” Mai laughed. “That's an unusually candid admission.” “Don't get used to it.” “Wouldn't dream of it.” Rogue continued more seriously. “One thing needs to be absolutely clear. This isn't a booking.” Mai's smile faded into attention. “Go on.” “No fees. No clients. No obligation to entertain anyone. I want them there as my guests. Same as the fixers, same as the avecs.” “And if somebody gets the wrong idea?” “They'll be corrected.” “By whom?” “Whoever gets there first, I imagine.” Mai laughed. “Rogue.” “Fine. By me, if necessary. They're my guests. My rules.” “Good.” “I'm not telling anyone whom to dance with, talk to, flirt with, or take somewhere private. They're adults. They can make their own decisions.” “That sounds much more like an invitation we'd consider.” “I thought it might.” Mai reached for her coffee. “Who's attending?” “The usual crowd. Wakako, Regina, Dino, El Capitán, Hands, Dakota, Padre, and me. Each with someone.” Mai took a moment to absorb that. “That's quite a collection.” “Mm.” “And you're adding Panam's entire Stable to it.” “Mm-hmm.” “Rogue.” “Yes?” “Are you bored?” A long silence followed. Then Rogue began laughing. Not her usual short, dry chuckle. Proper laughter. “Fuck you, Mai.” Mai grinned. “I'll take that as a yes.” “You're not entirely wrong.” “I rarely am.” “Don't start sounding like me.” “That would be dreadful.” Ace had now abandoned all pretense of not listening. She stood beside Mai, one hand on her wife's shoulder, practically vibrating with curiosity. Mai tilted the holo just enough for Rogue to see her. “Incidentally, Ace is here.” Rogue's smile became dangerous. “Of course she is.” “Hi, Rogue!” “Try not to bankrupt a shoe store before Saturday.” Ace looked scandalized. “What does my footwear have to do with anything?” “Nothing. I just enjoy reminding Mai that I understand her suffering.” “I heard that!” “Good.” Mai laughed and gently nudged Ace away. “Where's the party?” “Corpo Plaza.” “More precisely?” “Private tower. I've rented the entire top floor.” “Entirely?” “Entirely. Main reception space, dining, a proper bar, rooms for private conversation, and enough privacy that nobody has to worry about some wandering corpo collecting gossip.” “Whose tower?” “Night Corp's.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?” “Only if you think the building's going to fall down.” “Has Brenda been invited to inspect it?” From the dining table came an indignant, “Hey!” Rogue laughed. “Tell Brenda she's welcome to attend, but the building stays in one piece.” “I'll pass that along.” “And Mai?” “Yes?” “There's one more thing.” “Oh, good. The part you've been saving.” “Saturday's bar is going to have something special.” “Better whiskey?” “Not whiskey.” Mai blinked. “That narrows the possibilities somewhat.” “You'll see.” “Rogue, you realize you're being insufferable.” “I've spent decades perfecting it.” “That much is obvious.” Mai set her cup down. “All right. I'll speak to Panam and the others. Everyone decides for themselves.” “Exactly.” “And we need time to prepare. Some of the identities involve temporary voice-sculpt work.” “That's why you're getting the call Thursday.” “Also, Imani is on Crystal Palace.” “I know.” “Then you understand that Anna can't simply materialize in Corpo Plaza on Saturday evening.” “Mai, even I can't arrange that.” “Good. I appreciate a practical woman.” “Don't spread it around.” Mai smiled. “I'll let you know when I've spoken to everyone.” “Perfect.” “And Rogue?” “Yeah?” “Thank you.” The response was quieter. “Thought you might enjoy it.” “I suspect we will.” “See you Saturday, Mai.” The connection ended. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Ace said, very softly: “Oh, fuck.” Mai turned. Ace's eyes were shining. “Eight fixers?” “Yes.” “With avecs?” “Yes.” “And all eleven of the Stable?” “If everyone wants to come.” Ace looked at Shammy. Shammy looked at Ace. Both women smiled. Mai recognized those expressions. She had seen similar ones shortly before several adventures that had resulted in substantial property damage, memorable apologies, and stories nobody was ever going to let anyone forget. “No,” Mai said. Ace blinked. “I haven't said anything!” “You were about to.” “I was about to say this sounds wonderful.” “Of course you were.” “What's wrong with wonderful?” “Nothing. It's what comes after wonderful that concerns me.” Shammy laughed. “The room has become very excited.” Mai gave her a look. “Shammy, darling, you don't need atmospheric sensitivity to establish that.” “True. Ace is practically glowing.” “I am not!” “You are,” Iris called from the dining table. Brenda leaned back in her chair. “What exactly have we been invited to?” Mai turned toward them. “Rogue's annual fixer party. Saturday night. Eight fixers with their guests, and she's invited the entire Stable.” Brenda stared at her. Then she looked at Iris. Then back at Mai. “Hang on. Eight fixers as in actual fixers?” “Is there another kind?” “No, but—” Brenda stopped. A smile began spreading across her face. “Oh, this could be fucking magnificent.” Iris laughed. “Darling.” “What?” “You're doing the thing.” “What thing?” “The one where you start considering how much trouble you'll be permitted to cause.” Brenda looked offended. “I'm a responsible married woman.” “Of course you are.” “I have responsibilities.” “Yes.” “And excellent judgment.” Iris kissed her cheek. “Debatable.” Ace pointed toward the dining table. “See? Brenda understands.” “Brenda,” Mai said, “has not yet been informed that Rogue specifically requested the tower remain standing.” Brenda paused. “Why would she say that?” “Experience,” Iris answered. Shammy laughed so hard that her hair lifted around her head in a brief, untidy silver halo. Ace noticed immediately. “Look at her. Our girl is delighted.” Shammy smoothed down absolutely none of it. “I'm thinking about the guest list.” “So am I,” Ace said. “That's what worries me,” Mai replied. She pulled a chair out and sat. “Right. Before anyone gets carried away, we have people to contact.” Ace joined her. Shammy pulled up another chair, close enough that their knees touched. At the other end of the table, Brenda moved a diagnostic display aside to give Iris a better view. Mai looked at the five of them. “Rogue wants all eleven. Panam, Mandi, Dalia, Nova, Vega, Birgitta, Deja, Bea, Sera, Nadia, and Anna.” Ace counted on her fingers. “Eleven.” “I know.” “Just checking.” “Thank you for your service.” Shammy smiled. “Nadia will enjoy hearing about this.” Mai nodded. “I'll call her. And Kiro, Elisa, and the others.” “Imani needs to hear first,” Shammy said. “Or at least soon. Crystal Palace isn't exactly around the corner.” “Agreed. Would you call her?” “Of course.” “I'll handle the invitations to the others,” Mai continued. “Panam can tell Birgitta herself.” Shammy glanced at her. There was a small, understanding smile between them. Panam didn't need a party as an excuse to call Birgitta. But she would undoubtedly appreciate having one more reason. “And Friday?” Iris asked. “Anyone needing a temporary voice-sculpt will have to arrange it with Victor,” Mai said. “The face-meshes are already taken care of. There's no reason to send eleven people to his clinic.” “Victor would murder us,” Ace said. “No,” Shammy replied thoughtfully. “He'd murder you first.” Ace considered that. “Fair.” Brenda reached for her coffee, discovered it was cold, and made a face. “What's the dress code?” “We don't know yet,” Mai said. Ace's expression changed. Mai caught it immediately. “No.” “What?” “Whatever you're thinking.” “I was thinking about shoes.” “You're always thinking about shoes.” “That's because I have a rich inner life.” Brenda lost it. Iris laughed against her shoulder. Shammy leaned over and kissed Ace's hair. Mai shook her head, smiling despite herself. It was, she thought, an extraordinary household. Not because they never argued, or because they always agreed, or because life had somehow become simple. It hadn't. There were too many histories beneath this roof for simple to have much meaning. But they had built something that worked. Five people around a crowded table on a Thursday morning, laughing about an invitation that hadn't existed half an hour ago. Ace caught her looking. “What?” “Nothing.” “Mai.” She reached across and took Ace's hand. “I'm happy.” Ace's expression softened at once. “Oh.” Shammy's hand settled over theirs. For a moment, the three of them sat quietly together. Then Brenda cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt this extremely touching scene, but I have a serious question.” Mai looked over. “Yes?” “Is Rogue bringing an avec too?” “Apparently.” “Do we know who?” “No.” Brenda grinned. “Interesting.” Iris glanced at her. “Why?” “Because whoever Rogue brings to a party full of fixers is either incredibly brave, incredibly dangerous, or someone Rogue wants to make a point with.” Ace looked delighted. “Oh, I like that.” Mai considered Brenda's observation. It was, annoyingly, a good one. Rogue didn't make choices like that casually. Not in public. Not among people who had spent decades learning how to read her. “Well,” Mai said, “I suppose we'll find out on Saturday.” Brenda looked almost disappointed. “You're not going to ask?” “Absolutely not.” “Why?” “Because Rogue clearly wants it to be a surprise.” “And?” “And I have no intention of rewarding that woman by showing her how curious I am.” Ace stared at her. Then started laughing. “Oh, you're curious.” “Of course I'm curious.” “Very curious.” “I'm considering several possibilities.” “Mai!” “What?” “That's adorable.” Mai gave her a warning look. Ace kissed her before she could answer. Shammy chuckled. “Rogue has succeeded already.” Mai sighed. “She has.” Her holo lay on the table in front of her. Eleven names. One invitation. A Saturday night that had suddenly become considerably more interesting. Mai picked up the holo and opened Nadia's contact. Shammy leaned closer. “Tell her I said hello.” “I will.” “And that I want to hear what she thinks.” Mai smiled. “You can tell her yourself later.” “I intend to.” Ace rested her chin on Mai's shoulder. “Think Nadia will say yes?” Mai considered the artist who had become such an important part of their lives. Her curiosity. Her warmth. Her delight in people. Her complete willingness to explore a world that had initially seemed impossibly strange. Then she considered the prospect of Nadia attending a private gathering of Night City's most influential fixers. “Oh,” Mai said, smiling as she placed the call. “I think she's going to have questions.” Ace grinned. “Excellent.” The connection began to ring. And somewhere elsewhere in Watson, an artist was about to have her Thursday morning thoroughly rearranged. --- ## Chapter 2 — A Woman Worth Kidnapping Nadia had laughed. That, Mai decided, was probably the most encouraging response she could have hoped for. Not a polite laugh. Not the sort of careful appreciation wealthy patrons sometimes offered when they were trying to decide whether an artist had just insulted them. Nadia had laughed so hard she'd needed to put her coffee down. Then she'd asked whether Rogue Amendiares was genuinely inviting eleven women to spend an evening among Night City's most influential fixers. Mai had confirmed that she was. Nadia had considered the matter for approximately three seconds. “Oh, I am absolutely coming.” Shammy had smiled at that. Ace had looked delighted. And Nadia, after promising to discuss Saturday's wardrobe with Sera later, had ended the call with the observation that she rather hoped at least one fixer would be interesting enough to surprise her. “She's going to have a wonderful evening,” Ace had announced. “Or someone else is going to have a very educational one,” Brenda had replied. Mai suspected both statements might prove accurate. Now she was considering her next call. Elisa. That one required slightly more thought. Not because Elisa would be difficult to persuade. Quite possibly the opposite. But Elisa did not simply put on a jacket, leave her front door, and wander through Night City unnoticed. An ordinary visit required arrangements. A visit involving her considerably less public identity required rather more. And before any of that happened, someone had to call Reyes. Mai glanced toward Ace. “Darling?” Ace was stretched out on the sofa, one leg hanging over the armrest, examining something on her holo. “Mm?” “I'm calling Elisa.” Ace looked up. “Oh?” “She'll need an inbound handoff.” Ace grinned. “Which means Reyes.” “Exactly.” “I'll call her.” “After we know whether Elisa wants to come.” Ace considered this. “Efficient. Sensible. Suspiciously unlike me.” “I'm aware.” Ace blew her a kiss. Mai returned it, then opened Elisa's contact. The call connected after a few seconds. Elisa appeared behind a desk that looked as though someone had spent an unreasonable amount of money ensuring it did not look expensive. She was reading something. Whatever it was, she stopped when she saw Mai. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” “Good morning, Elisa.” “Mai.” Elisa smiled. “You're calling me during business hours.” “Am I interrupting?” “Only something several people insist is important.” “Then I'll be brief.” “Oh, don't do that. I need a better excuse to ignore it.” Mai laughed. “How have you been?” “Busy. Irritated. Occasionally magnificent.” “So, normal.” “Precisely.” Elisa leaned back. “And you?” “Very well. The safehouse remains standing.” “I'm relieved.” “Brenda is currently occupying approximately seventy percent of the dining table.” “Only seventy?” “We're making progress.” “Give her my congratulations.” “Absolutely not. She'll consider it encouragement.” Elisa laughed. “God, I miss you people.” Mai's expression softened. “We miss you too.” For a moment, the joke was allowed to end. Elisa looked at her with genuine affection. There were things about the safehouse she missed more than she cared to admit. The noise. The casual interruptions. People who knew precisely who she was and didn't appear particularly impressed by the fact. The extraordinary luxury of being able to sit at a table and talk absolute nonsense without somebody recording the conversation for later strategic interpretation. She cleared her throat. “So. To what do I owe this call?” “Rogue has invited us to a party.” Elisa blinked. “Rogue?” “Yes.” “Amendiares?” “Unless you know another.” “I don't.” “Saturday night. Corpo Plaza.” Elisa tilted her head. “What sort of party?” “Her annual fixer gathering. Eight fixers, each bringing an avec.” Elisa's eyebrows rose. “Eight?” “Yes.” “And Rogue has invited you?” “Madame Panam's entire Stable.” Elisa stared. Mai watched comprehension arrive. First surprise. Then curiosity. Then something distinctly less respectable. “Oh,” Elisa said. Mai smiled. “There it is.” “What?” “That expression.” “What expression?” “The one I was expecting.” Elisa sat forward. “Mai. Are you telling me Rogue Amendiares is inviting Bea to a private party with eight of Night City's fixers?” “I'm telling you Rogue has invited the entire Stable. Bea included, if she wants to attend.” Elisa stared for another second. Then she began laughing. “Oh, that's outrageous.” “Rather.” “Eight fixers?” “Eight.” “With their own guests?” “Each one.” “And all eleven of us?” “If everyone accepts.” Elisa put a hand over her mouth. It did very little to contain her amusement. “Rogue has lost her fucking mind.” “That's one interpretation.” “What's yours?” “She knows exactly what she's doing.” That made Elisa laugh harder. “Somehow that's worse.” Mai settled comfortably into her chair. “Before you start imagining too much, there's something important. Rogue made it explicit that this is a social invitation. No bookings. No obligations. Nobody is being hired to entertain anyone.” Elisa nodded. “Good.” “Everyone attends as a guest.” “Even better.” “And what they choose to do with their evening is their own business.” Elisa gave her a long, delighted look. “Mai.” “Yes?” “You've known me long enough to understand that I don't need to be paid to find someone interesting.” “I suspected as much.” “Or to be curious.” “Certainly not.” “Or to—” “Elisa.” “What?” “Would you like to come?” Elisa leaned back again. She looked toward the ceiling. Thought for a moment. Then looked at Mai. “Oh, absolutely.” Mai laughed. “I thought you might.” “Saturday evening?” “Yes.” “Then I'll need to move a few things.” “Can you?” Elisa's smile acquired a certain corporate sharpness. “Mai, darling, I have survived board meetings that made hostile takeovers look like birthday parties. I can clear a Saturday.” “Excellent.” “Although whoever scheduled my Sunday morning review is about to have a disappointing day.” “Please don't start a corporate war over a party.” “No promises.” Mai shook her head. “Elisa.” “I'm joking.” A pause. “Mostly.” From somewhere beyond Mai's holo came Ace's voice. “That's my kind of woman!” Elisa's smile widened. “Is that Ace?” “Unfortunately.” “PUT ME ON!” Ace called. Mai sighed. “Elisa, would you excuse me for one moment?” “Certainly.” Mai turned the holo. Ace appeared immediately, looking far too pleased with herself. “Hello, trouble.” Elisa beamed. “Hello, expensive trouble.” Ace pressed a hand to her heart. “I'm touched.” “You're predictable.” “Cruel.” “Accurate.” Ace grinned. “So you're coming?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” “Apparently Rogue has decided she wants to see what happens when she puts sixteen powerful people in a room with the Stable.” “Twenty-seven,” Ace corrected. “I'm including Rogue among the powerful people, darling.” “Oh, I like that.” Elisa laughed. Then her expression changed slightly. “Actually, Ace, there's something we need to arrange.” “Reyes.” “Precisely.” Mai returned to view. “We haven't forgotten.” “Good. My own security can handle the outbound journey and the initial arrival. But if I'm attending as Bea, I want the same separation we used before.” “Agreed,” Mai said. Elisa nodded. An important line existed between Elisa's public life and the small, fiercely private corner of it that belonged to the safehouse and Bea. Her security detail could know when and where a transfer happened. They didn't need to know where she went afterward. And they certainly didn't need to know what she did with her weekend. “Reyes knows the procedures,” Elisa continued. “She does,” Ace said. “I'll call her as soon as we've settled your arrival.” “Thank you.” “When can you come?” Elisa glanced toward another display. “Friday would be preferable. I'd rather not arrive Saturday afternoon and spend the evening recovering from my normal life.” Mai nodded. “That also gives us time for any necessary preparation.” “Exactly.” Elisa began reviewing her calendar. A few seconds passed. Then she made a face. “Oh, somebody is going to be unhappy.” “Who?” Ace asked. “An executive who thinks my presence is indispensable.” “Is it?” “Absolutely not.” “Then fuck him.” Elisa laughed. “A compelling management philosophy.” “Available for consulting.” “Your fee?” “Shoes.” Mai closed her eyes. “Elisa, please don't encourage her.” “Too late.” A notification appeared beside Elisa's display. She read it. Smiled. Then moved something on her calendar. “There. Friday afternoon looks possible. I'll have my people confirm the exact timing and arrange the outward journey.” “Once it's confirmed, send the handoff details,” Mai said. “To you?” “To Ace. She'll coordinate with Reyes.” “Perfect.” Elisa hesitated. “And Mai?” “Yes?” There was an unexpectedly tender note in her voice. “I'd love to see everyone before the party. If that's all right.” Mai's face softened immediately. “Elisa.” “What?” “You know you're welcome.” “I know.” “Then stop asking as though you're applying for admission.” Elisa smiled. “Habit.” “A bad one.” “I'm working on it.” “Good.” Behind Mai, Shammy had wandered into view. Elisa spotted her. “Oh!” Shammy smiled. “Hello, Elisa.” “Shammy!” The affection in Elisa's voice was immediate. Shammy stepped closer. “You're coming?” “Apparently.” “Good.” “That's all? Good? I've just rearranged an executive schedule, potentially inconvenienced a small army of assistants, and committed myself to attending a party full of fixers.” Shammy considered this. Then smiled. “I'm very glad.” Elisa's expression softened. “Oh.” A few loose white strands lifted around Shammy's face. “And I want a hug when you arrive,” Shammy added. Elisa laughed. “You'll get one.” Ace leaned into view again. “Mine first.” “No,” Shammy said calmly. Ace turned toward her. “Excuse me?” “You can share.” Mai laughed. Elisa looked between the three of them. “God, I really have missed you.” “We know,” Mai said. “Friday, then.” “Friday,” Ace confirmed. “I'll arrange Reyes.” “Thank you.” “And Elisa?” “Yes?” Ace's grin returned. “Bring Bea's good shoes.” Elisa stared. Then began laughing again. “Oh, you wicked little bitch.” Mai gave Ace a resigned look. “I knew you were going to say something about shoes.” “It's an important consideration!” Elisa was still laughing when the connection ended. Ace wasted precisely three seconds before opening another contact. REYES. Mai watched her. “You do remember she's working?” “Reyes is always working.” “That isn't the same thing as being available.” “I know.” The call rang. Twice. Then Reyes answered. “Ace.” “Hello, beautiful.” “What do you want?” Ace looked offended. “Can't I call to say hello?” “You can.” “Thank you.” “You didn't.” Shammy laughed softly. Ace grinned. “Fair.” Reyes was somewhere quiet, although the sounds in the background suggested she wasn't at home. She gave Ace her full attention. “What's up?” “I need to borrow you on Friday.” “No.” “You haven't heard what for.” “That's usually when it's safest to refuse.” “It's Elisa.” Reyes paused. A real pause. Then her expression changed. “Is she all right?” “Perfectly.” “Then what?” “She's coming to Night City. Friday afternoon, probably. Needs an inbound handoff.” Reyes exhaled. “Right.” “Her people will bring her to the agreed transfer point. Same confidentiality arrangement as before.” “Does she have a confirmed time?” “Not yet. She's clearing her schedule.” “Then I can't confirm availability.” Ace nodded. “Understood.” Reyes regarded her. “And why is Elisa visiting?” Ace's grin returned. “Rogue's throwing a party.” Reyes stared. “Rogue.” “Yep.” “A party.” “Yep.” “And Elisa's coming down for it.” “As Bea.” Another pause. Reyes looked away for a moment. When she looked back, her expression was almost painfully neutral. “Ace.” “Yes?” “What have you people gotten yourselves into now?” “Nothing!” “Yet.” “Why does everyone keep adding that word?” “Experience.” Mai laughed quietly in the background. Reyes heard her. “Mai's there?” “Yes,” Mai answered. “Please tell me somebody is supervising this.” “I've been trying since breakfast.” “My condolences.” “Thank you.” Ace looked between them. “Can we focus? Elisa needs a ride.” “An escort,” Reyes corrected. “An extremely attractive escort.” “Ace.” “A highly competent professional escort.” “Better.” “Who happens to be extremely attractive.” Reyes closed her eyes. Shammy's shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Send me the arrangements when they're confirmed,” Reyes said. “I'll check my schedule. If I can take the handoff, I'll let you know.” “Thank you.” “And don't give Elisa's people the safehouse address.” Ace's expression lost its playfulness for a moment. “Wouldn't dream of it.” Reyes nodded. There were jokes she tolerated from Ace. There were also matters neither of them needed explained. Security was one of those. “Good,” Reyes said. “And if Friday doesn't work?” “Then we work out an alternative before anyone moves. Not after.” “Agreed.” Reyes narrowed her eyes. “One more question.” “Shoot.” “Why exactly does Rogue want Bea at this party?” Ace considered the question. Then smiled. “Because she wants to surprise eight fixers.” Reyes stared at her. “Ace.” “What?” “That's not an explanation.” “No,” Ace agreed cheerfully. “But it is going to be funny.” Reyes looked at Mai. Mai spread her hands. “I've stopped pretending I can prevent it.” For a moment, Reyes said nothing. Then she gave a short laugh. “Christ. Saturday's going to be something.” “That's the spirit!” “I didn't say something good.” “Details.” “Send the information,” Reyes said. “We will.” “And Ace?” “Yes?” “Keep your fucking shoes out of the operational briefing.” The call ended. Ace stared at the holo. Then turned toward Mai. “Why does everyone have a problem with my shoes?” Mai kissed her forehead. “Because, darling, they know you.” By the time the safehouse settled into the quieter part of the afternoon, two more things were clear. Nadia was coming. Elisa intended to come, subject to her travel arrangements. And Reyes had agreed to examine the Friday handoff once the timing was confirmed. Mai made the appropriate notes. She did not add assumptions where confirmations were missing. She did not invent arrival times. She did not presume anyone was available merely because she wanted them to be. Ace watched her for a moment. “You know something?” “What?” “You're enjoying this.” Mai looked up. “Organizing?” “No. This.” Ace gestured vaguely at the room, the holo, the growing list of people who might soon be together again. Mai followed the gesture. Iris and Brenda were still at the dining table, although considerably less engineering was being accomplished now. Shammy had settled near the window, looking through a message from Nadia with a small, private smile. Ace was beside her. Close. Warm. Looking at her as though the answer mattered. Mai set down the holo. “Yes,” she said. “I am.” Ace smiled. “Thought so.” Mai reached for her. Ace came willingly, sliding into her lap with the casual confidence of a woman who had never considered personal space a particularly important concept between lovers. “Rogue has absolutely no idea what she's started,” Ace murmured. Mai slipped her arms around her waist. “Oh, I think she does.” “You think?” “Yes.” Ace considered that. Then grinned. “That's even better.” Across the room, Shammy looked up from Nadia's message. “Are we taking bets on how long Rogue lasts before she regrets this?” Mai groaned. “Not you too.” Ace's eyes lit up. “Shammy, darling, I love the way you think.” “I know.” “Ten minutes.” Shammy tilted her head. “After we arrive?” “Obviously.” “Too generous.” Mai stared at them. “Absolutely not.” Ace looked back at her. “What?” “No betting pool.” “We're discussing probabilities.” “Without money,” Shammy added helpfully. Mai regarded the two women she loved. Then, very slowly, she smiled. “Five minutes.” Ace burst out laughing. Shammy's hair rose into a delighted silver halo. From the dining table, Brenda called, “I'll give her three!” Iris kissed her wife's cheek. “Darling, you're supposed to be working.” “I can multitask!” Mai shook her head. Rogue's party was still two days away. And the trouble had already begun. --- ## Chapter 3 — Two Invitations, One Secret By Thursday afternoon, Mai had begun to suspect that Rogue's invitation was going to consume considerably more of her time than the woman had admitted. Not that she particularly minded. Nadia had accepted with delight. Elisa was rearranging her schedule, and Ace had contacted Reyes about the security handoff. The remaining invitations could be handled individually, without turning the whole affair into a military operation. There was, however, one person Mai wanted to speak to before going any further. Madame Panam. Ace had settled beside Shammy on the sofa. The two were examining a message from Nadia, apparently involving an outfit that Shammy found interesting and Ace found hilarious. At the dining table, Brenda was still working. Iris was still distracting her. Mai had decided that particular problem was no longer hers to solve. She opened Panam's contact. The call connected after a few seconds. “Mai?” “Hello, Panam.” “Hey. Everything okay?” “Perfectly. I've got an invitation for you.” Panam's eyebrows rose. “An invitation?” “Yes.” “From whom?” “Rogue.” Panam stared at her. “Rogue?” “Amendiares.” “I know which fucking Rogue you mean.” Mai smiled. “Just establishing the facts.” “What does she want?” “To invite us to a party.” Panam looked suspicious. “Us?” “Madame Panam's Stable.” There was a pause. “How much of it?” “All eleven.” Panam stared at her for another moment. Then she started laughing. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Mai chuckled. “An interesting response.” “Rogue's inviting the entire Stable to a party?” “Apparently.” “What kind of party?” “Her annual fixer gathering. Eight fixers, each bringing an avec. She's rented the entire top floor of a tower in Corpo Plaza.” Panam blinked. “Wait. Eight fixers?” “Yes.” “Rogue's annual gathering?” “You know about it?” “Of course I know about it. She complains about organizing the damned thing every year.” “And yet continues organizing it.” “That's Rogue.” Mai settled back. “She wants something different this year.” “Different how?” “She says she wants a room full of people who are accustomed to controlling everyone else to spend an evening with eleven women who have absolutely no interest in being controlled.” Panam stared. Then gave a delighted bark of laughter. “Oh, that magnificent bitch.” “I thought you'd appreciate the idea.” “Appreciate it? Mai, she's practically asking us to ruin eight fixers' composure.” “Socially,” Mai reminded her. “Obviously.” “Panam.” “What?” “Rogue was very clear about the invitation. Everyone attends as a guest. No bookings, no obligations, no expectations. Every woman decides for herself whom she wants to spend time with.” Panam nodded. “Good.” “She wanted that understood before anyone accepted.” “Even better.” There was genuine approval in Panam's expression now. Rogue had done the important part properly. Whatever happened afterward would belong to the people involved. “So who's coming?” Panam asked. “Rogue mentioned Wakako, Regina, Dino, El Capitán, Mr. Hands, Dakota, Padre, and herself.” Panam's eyes widened slightly. “Wakako?” “Yes.” “Huh.” Mai caught the change. “Something interesting?” “Maybe.” “Panam.” “What?” Mai smiled. “Nothing.” “That's what I thought.” They shared a quiet laugh. Then Panam asked, “And the Stable?” “I'm contacting everyone. Nadia has accepted. Elisa intends to come, provided her travel arrangements work out. Shammy will contact Imani on Crystal Palace. The rest are straightforward enough.” “Right.” “Except Birgitta.” Panam became very still. Not alarmed. Interested. “What about her?” Mai smiled. “I thought you might like to invite her yourself.” The change in Panam's expression was immediate. A smile, smaller and much more personal than the one she'd worn a moment earlier. “Yeah.” “She's part of the Stable. Obviously she's invited.” “Obviously.” “But I thought you might enjoy making that particular call.” Panam looked away briefly. When she looked back, she was smiling openly. “You know me too damned well.” “I try.” “Thanks, Mai.” “Of course.” There was a comfortable pause. Then Mai added, “There's one practical matter.” “Only one?” “For the moment.” “Miracle.” “Some of the women will need temporary voice-sculpt work before Saturday. The face-meshes already exist, so there's no reason to involve Victor unless somebody actually needs him.” “Good.” “I'll coordinate those arrangements separately. Nobody needs to spend Friday sitting in his waiting room for no reason.” Panam chuckled. “Vic would probably throw us out.” “He'd be entitled to.” “And Imani?” “Shammy's calling her. We need to give her time to get down from Crystal Palace.” “Right. No last-minute orbital miracles.” “Precisely.” Panam nodded. “Anything else?” “Only whether you'd like to attend.” Panam gave her a look. “Mai.” “Yes?” “You're inviting me to spend Saturday night at Rogue's party with the entire Stable, eight fixers, and their guests.” “That is an accurate summary.” “And you genuinely need to ask?” “Consent and good manners, darling.” Panam laughed. “Then yes. I'd love to come.” “Excellent.” “And Mai?” “Yes?” “Tell Ace not to get arrested.” Mai glanced toward the sofa. Ace looked up immediately. “WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT?” Panam burst out laughing. “Because we know you!” Ace raised both hands in exasperation. “It's a party!” “That's never stopped you before.” Mai covered her smile. “I'll do my best.” “That's all anyone can ask.” “Enjoy your next call.” Panam's expression softened again. “Oh, I intend to.” The connection ended. --- Panam remained where she was for several moments after Mai's image disappeared. Birgitta. She hadn't needed Mai to remind her of that particular woman. Quite the opposite. She'd been thinking about her all morning. A message earlier, a photograph sent in passing, a brief exchange that had ended with a smile Panam hadn't managed to get rid of. She opened Birgitta's contact. Then paused. Not because she was uncertain whether to call. She simply enjoyed the small anticipation before hearing that voice. Finally, she pressed the connection. Birgitta answered after a few seconds. “Hello, beautiful.” Panam smiled immediately. “Well, that's supposed to be my line.” “Then you were too slow.” “Apparently.” Birgitta was sitting somewhere comfortable, her copper-grey hair falling loosely around her face. She had a cup in one hand and the expression of someone who had just been given a very pleasant interruption. “How's my favorite owner?” she asked. Panam laughed. “Your favorite?” “My only one.” “Smart answer.” “I have moments.” Panam leaned back. “Missed you.” Birgitta's smile changed. Not dramatically. It simply became warmer. “I missed you too.” For a little while neither rushed to say anything else. Panam looked at her. Birgitta looked back. The connection carried the comfortable silence of two women who no longer needed a reason to want each other's company. Eventually Birgitta lifted her cup. “So. How's your day?” “Pretty good.” “Only pretty good?” “Better now.” Birgitta laughed softly. “You're getting dangerously charming.” “Don't spread it around.” “Your reputation is safe with me.” Panam considered the woman on her screen. Then asked, “Have you eaten?” Birgitta burst out laughing. “Oh, there she is.” “What?” “My Panam.” “Is that a complaint?” “No.” “Then answer.” “Yes, I've eaten.” “Properly?” “Panam.” “Birgitta.” A long, amused look. Then Birgitta sighed theatrically. “Breakfast. Actual food. Not just coffee. Are you satisfied?” “Moderately.” “You're impossible.” “So I've been told.” Birgitta rested her chin on one hand. “And what have you been doing?” “Not much. A little work. A call from Mai.” “Oh?” “Yeah.” “What did she want?” Panam smiled. “Funny you should ask.” Birgitta narrowed her eyes slightly. “That expression concerns me.” “Which expression?” “The one that says you're about to tell me something outrageous and enjoy watching my reaction.” Panam laughed. “You're getting good at this.” “Practice.” “Rogue's throwing a party Saturday night.” Birgitta blinked. “Rogue Amendiares?” “Yep.” “What sort of party?” “Her annual fixer gathering. Eight fixers, each with an avec.” Birgitta's eyebrows rose. “That's quite a guest list.” “Gets better.” “Oh?” “She's invited the entire Stable.” Birgitta went very still. For one extraordinary moment, two different thoughts collided behind her pleasant expression. The first belonged to Birgitta. Panam wants me at a party. The second belonged to Reyes. Rogue. Eight fixers. Saturday. Followed almost immediately by a third. Victor. Birgitta took a measured sip from her cup. “Really?” “Really.” “All eleven?” “Every single one.” Birgitta lowered her cup. “Well, that's unexpected.” Panam grinned. “That's what I said.” “And you're going?” “Of course.” “Of course,” Birgitta repeated. Panam tilted her head. “Would you like to come?” Birgitta looked at her. There it was. The question she had hoped to hear, even before she'd known the invitation existed. Not a demand. Not an instruction. Just Panam, looking at her and wanting her there. “Yes,” Birgitta said. The answer came without hesitation. Panam smiled. “Good.” Birgitta smiled back. “Very good.” Panam laughed. “Something tells me you're going to enjoy yourself.” “I intend to.” “Rogue's promised good food, music, drinks, the whole thing.” “And eight fixers.” “And eight fixers.” Birgitta considered that. “Do you know who's attending?” “Rogue, Wakako, Regina, Dino, El Capitán, Mr. Hands, Dakota, Padre.” Birgitta's expression remained pleasantly interested. Inside, Reyes was doing a remarkably efficient inventory. Names. Connections. People who could recognize her natural face. People who knew her work. People who would have absolutely no reason to connect any of that with the copper-grey-haired woman currently smiling at Panam. Provided she did her job properly. Which she intended to. “That's quite a collection,” Birgitta said. “Right?” “And they've all got guests?” “Yep.” “Interesting.” Panam's grin widened. “Oh, sweetheart. I think interesting is going to be an understatement.” Birgitta laughed. “I rather hope so.” Panam watched her for a moment. “You know what?” “What?” “I'm really glad you're coming.” Birgitta's amusement softened. “So am I.” “No, I mean it.” “I know.” Panam looked momentarily uncomfortable with how openly happy she felt. Birgitta noticed. Of course she noticed. She had become very good at recognizing those tiny hesitations. “Panam?” “Yeah?” “I would have come just to see you.” Panam stopped moving. Then laughed, almost shyly. “Fuck.” Birgitta grinned. “An eloquent response.” “Shut up.” “No.” Panam shook her head. “God, I love you.” Birgitta's eyes softened. “I love you too.” The words settled between them without ceremony. No negotiation. No uncertainty. Just something they knew. After a moment, Panam smiled again. “Do you need anything before Saturday?” Birgitta thought about Victor. About the clinic. About the work that would be required to make sure Birgitta could spend an entire evening being Birgitta. And about how she was going to arrange all of that without Panam learning something she wasn't meant to know. “No,” she said. “I'll take care of my preparations.” “You sure?” “Absolutely.” “All right.” Panam nodded, accepting the answer. She trusted Birgitta to know what she needed. “And Saturday?” “I'll see you there.” “Good.” Birgitta leaned a little closer to the holo. “Unless you'd like to see me sooner.” Panam's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “I'm merely suggesting possibilities.” Panam laughed. “You're trouble.” “Your trouble.” The smile that crossed Panam's face was immediate and unguarded. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Mine.” The call ended. Birgitta remained motionless for several seconds. Then she set down her cup. Looked at the blank screen. And slowly covered her face with one hand. “Oh, fuck.” It was not an unhappy exclamation. Far from it. The problem was that she had just accepted an invitation to a party attended by eight of Night City's most influential fixers. As Birgitta. While also being Reyes. A woman who had spent years building professional relationships, acquiring a reputation, and becoming recognizable in circles that would undoubtedly overlap with the guest list. All perfectly manageable. In theory. Except that Friday was already becoming complicated. Elisa needed an inbound handoff. Ace had asked for her help. Reyes had promised to check her availability. And Victor needed to prepare Birgitta's voice for Saturday. She looked at her holo. Then laughed. Not because the problem was funny. Although it was. Not because it was impossible. It wasn't. But because somewhere in Night City, Ace had managed to complicate her weekend without having the slightest idea she'd done it. “Of course,” Reyes murmured. “Of fucking course.” She opened Victor's contact. Paused. Then smiled. This was going to be an interesting conversation. She placed the call. Victor answered with the weary expression of a man who had learned that certain names on his holo were rarely associated with an uncomplicated afternoon. “Reyes.” “Vic.” “What happened?” “Nothing.” He stared at her. “Nothing?” “Not a thing.” “Then why are you calling?” “I need an appointment.” Victor's eyes narrowed. “Medical?” “Technically.” “Reyes.” She smiled. “Voice-sculpt.” Victor closed his eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then: “Birgitta?” “Yes.” “How long?” “Long enough for Saturday evening. A little margin on either side.” Victor opened his eyes. “Another party?” Reyes considered the question. Then smiled again. “Something like that.” Victor looked at her. There were several possible responses. Most involved profanity. He settled on a sigh. “When?” “Friday.” “Of course Friday.” “Is that a problem?” “That depends.” “On?” “Whether you're going to tell me what you've gotten yourself into.” Reyes smiled sweetly. “No.” Victor stared at her. Then shook his head. “Christ. You people.” He opened his schedule. Reyes waited. And somewhere else in Night City, Panam was still smiling at the memory of Birgitta telling her she'd come just to see her. Neither woman had the slightest intention of missing Saturday. Only one of them knew quite how much work that promise required. --- ## Chapter 4 — A Long Way Down Shammy had been looking at the same message for nearly five minutes. Mai noticed. Of course Mai noticed. She had spent enough mornings with Shammy to recognize the difference between her being peacefully absorbed in something and her quietly waiting for the right moment to bring it up. “Something on your mind, darling?” Shammy looked up. “Imani.” Ace glanced over from the sofa. “What about her?” “She's going to need more warning than everyone else.” “Crystal Palace,” Mai said. Shammy nodded. “And she deserves to hear it properly. Not as the eleventh name on a guest list.” Mai smiled. “Agreed.” “Besides,” Shammy added, “I'd like to hear her voice.” Ace's expression softened. “That sounds like an excellent reason to call somebody.” Shammy regarded her for a moment. “It's generally worked for you.” “Constantly.” “Sometimes at three in the morning.” Ace pointed a finger at her. “Those are my best calls.” “Panam might disagree.” “Panam answers.” “That isn't the same thing.” Mai laughed. Ace considered the distinction. “Fair.” Shammy rose from her chair and crossed to the balcony doors, taking her holo with her. She didn't go outside. Instead, she settled into one of the comfortable chairs near the glass, where the afternoon light caught in her silver-white hair. Earth was a long way from Crystal Palace. Not an impossible distance. Not anymore. Humanity had become very good at transporting people, equipment, and extraordinary quantities of expensive nonsense between the planet and its orbital installations. But distance still mattered. People had schedules. Ships had departure windows. Security required clearance. And Imani had a life of her own up there. Shammy opened her contact. The connection took a little longer than a local call. A routing indicator appeared. Then another. Finally the screen resolved. Imani was standing beside a work surface, studying something on a display. She looked up. And smiled. “Shammy!” “Hello, Imani.” “Well, that's a lovely surprise.” “I hoped it would be.” “Give me a second.” Imani touched a control. The display beside her dimmed. Then she moved to a nearby chair and sat. “There. Now you have my undivided attention.” “That sounds dangerous.” Imani laughed. “Coming from you?” “I've been told I'm an unusual influence.” “By whom?” “Mai.” “Ah. A respected authority.” “Usually.” Imani leaned back, still smiling. For a moment, neither woman said anything. Then Imani's expression grew warmer. “I've missed you.” Shammy smiled. “I've missed you too.” “And the others?” “They're here.” “All of them?” “Ace, Mai, Iris, Brenda.” “Still keeping Watson interesting?” “Brenda is attempting to annex the dining table.” “Again?” “Mai has been negotiating territorial boundaries since breakfast.” Imani burst out laughing. “Oh, God. I've missed that place.” Shammy watched her. There was something in the way Imani said it. Not quite longing. Not quite homesickness. But close enough that Shammy felt a small tightening in her chest. “Would you like to come down?” she asked. Imani blinked. “Down?” “To Night City.” “Shammy, darling, that is a dangerously tempting question.” “I have an invitation.” Imani's eyes narrowed. “Oh?” “Saturday night.” “Go on.” “Rogue is hosting her annual fixer party.” Imani stopped moving. “Rogue Amendiares?” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” “The Rogue Amendiares who runs the Afterlife?” “The very same.” Imani stared at her. “Why do I have the feeling this conversation is about to become ridiculous?” “Because you've met my family.” “Fair.” Shammy continued. “Eight fixers, each with a guest. Rogue has invited Madame Panam's entire Stable.” Imani sat forward. “The entire Stable?” “All eleven.” Including Anna. The implication arrived. Imani looked at Shammy for a long moment. Then slowly began to smile. “Oh.” Shammy waited. “Oh, that's interesting.” “Yes.” “Very interesting.” “I thought so.” Imani leaned back again. “Eight fixers.” “Yes.” “Eight guests.” “Yes.” “And the Stable.” “Yes.” She considered the arithmetic. “Twenty-seven people.” “Assuming everyone accepts.” Imani laughed. “Rogue is either a genius or she's finally lost her mind.” “Those aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.” “Good point.” Shammy's smile broadened. “Would you like to come?” Imani didn't answer immediately. She looked away, toward the broad viewport on the far side of the room. Earth hung beyond it. Blue, white, enormous. Night City was somewhere down there. The safehouse. Her friends. The comfortable, ridiculous little world where Elisa could stop being important for an afternoon, Ace could be trusted to say something outrageous within thirty seconds of breakfast, and nobody seemed particularly interested in whether Imani had impressed the right people this week. She looked back. “Very much.” Shammy's expression brightened. “Good.” “But.” “Yes?” “I'm on Crystal Palace.” “I noticed.” Imani laughed. “You are such a menace.” “Occasionally.” “I can't just decide to have dinner in Night City tomorrow and appear at the table.” “I know.” “Even if I could, the travel arrangements would be a nightmare.” “That's why I'm calling Thursday.” Imani regarded her thoughtfully. Then smiled. “You've been talking to Mai.” “Always.” “Her influence is showing.” “Someone has to plan.” “And someone else has to make sure the plans survive contact with Ace.” “That's generally my job.” They laughed together. Then Imani became practical. “Right. Let me see what's possible.” She turned toward a nearby display and brought up her schedule. Shammy waited while she worked. There was no rush in the silence. Imani frowned once. Moved something. Frowned again. “Friday would be ideal,” she murmured. “Yes.” “Saturday morning might be possible, but I'd rather not spend the afternoon recovering from the journey.” “Neither would I.” Imani glanced at her. “Of course you wouldn't. You'd insist on feeding me.” “Probably.” “And making sure I rested.” “Certainly.” “And then Ace would arrive and ask whether I'd brought anything interesting from orbit.” “She would.” “And Brenda would ask whether I had any spare parts.” “Almost certainly.” Imani started laughing. Shammy joined her. “Oh, I miss you idiots.” “We miss you too.” Imani studied the available routes. “There's a possibility on Friday. I'd need confirmation, and I have a few obligations to rearrange.” “Take your time.” “I want to come.” “I know.” “I really do.” Shammy's voice softened. “Then we'll make room for you.” Imani looked at her. For a moment, the orbital distance seemed particularly unfair. “Thank you.” Shammy shook her head. “You don't have to thank me for wanting you here.” Imani smiled. “No. But I can.” They sat with that for a moment. Then Imani's eyes narrowed. “Actually, I have a question.” “Yes?” “Who else is coming?” “Rogue, Wakako, Regina, Dino, El Capitán, Mr. Hands, Dakota, and Padre. Each with someone.” Imani stared. “Good heavens.” Shammy's smile grew. “Quite.” “And Rogue has invited Anna?” “Yes.” “Not Imani?” “The invitation is to the Stable. You decide how you attend.” Imani considered that. Then she laughed. “Oh, Anna is going to enjoy herself.” Shammy tilted her head. “More than Imani?” “Different pleasures, darling.” “I suspected.” Imani smiled wickedly. “Besides, there's something rather appealing about spending an evening with people who consider themselves the most dangerous individuals in Night City and having absolutely no intention of being impressed.” Shammy laughed. “Rogue said something remarkably similar.” “Then she's definitely a genius.” “Possibly.” Another thought occurred to Imani. “Will Nadia be there?” “Yes. She's already accepted.” “Oh, wonderful.” Shammy smiled. “She was delighted.” “I can imagine. An evening with a room full of powerful people who may or may not understand what they're looking at.” “That's a fairly accurate description of most of her gallery openings.” Imani laughed. “And Sera?” “Of course.” “White couture?” Shammy glanced down at her perfectly ordinary clothing. “I haven't decided what I'm wearing yet.” Imani gave her a look. “Shammy.” “Yes?” “You're attending a party in Corpo Plaza as Sera.” “Yes.” “And you're considering wearing something that isn't extraordinary?” “I didn't say that.” “Good.” Shammy's hair lifted faintly. Imani noticed. “There she is.” “Who?” “My favorite impossible artist.” Shammy laughed. “Careful. Nadia might object.” “Then she can share the title.” “I think she'd enjoy that.” “Of course she would.” Imani returned to her schedule. “All right. I'll work on Friday. I can't promise anything until the transport and clearance are confirmed.” “That's fine.” “And I'll need enough time on the ground to prepare Anna.” “Yes.” “Victor?” “Only if you need voice work.” Imani nodded thoughtfully. “Right. I'll check what my identity setup requires and let you know.” “Mai is coordinating the invitations. We can arrange the necessary details once your arrival is confirmed.” “Perfect.” Imani leaned back. Then she smiled again. “Shammy?” “Yes?” “You know what's particularly wonderful about this?” “What?” “I'm considering rearranging my entire weekend because I want to spend Saturday night with my friends.” Shammy waited. Imani's expression grew quietly delighted. “Not because somebody needs me to attend a function. Not because there's a business opportunity. Not because my presence is expected.” She shook her head. “Just because I want to.” Shammy smiled. “That's a very good reason.” “Yes,” Imani said. “It is.” The call might have ended there. It didn't. Because Ace appeared behind Shammy. “IS SHE COMING?” Imani burst out laughing. Shammy closed her eyes. “Ace.” “What?” “Volume.” Ace lowered her voice by approximately three percent. “Is she coming?” Imani smiled at her. “I'm trying.” Ace's entire face lit up. “Excellent!” “Nothing confirmed yet.” “Details.” “Important details.” “Fine. Very important details.” Mai appeared just behind Ace. “Hello, Imani.” “Mai!” “Don't let Ace pressure you into an impossible itinerary.” “I'm trying not to.” “Good.” Ace looked offended. “I'm being supportive!” “You're being enthusiastic,” Mai corrected. “Those are related!” “Not identical.” Imani laughed. Shammy leaned back in her chair, smiling as the familiar exchange unfolded around her. Then Iris called from farther inside the room. “Is that Imani?” “Yes!” Ace answered. “Tell her hello!” Brenda's voice followed. “And ask whether she can bring—” “No!” Mai called. Brenda paused. “I haven't even finished!” “I know exactly where that sentence was going.” “That's deeply unfair!” Imani laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. “Oh, God.” Shammy smiled at her. “Yes?” “I am coming.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “Confirmed?” “No. But I'm going to do everything reasonable to make it happen.” “That's good enough for now.” Ace grinned. “See? Enthusiasm works.” “Sometimes,” Mai conceded. Imani looked from one beloved face to another. Then back to Shammy. “I'll call as soon as I know.” “We'll be here.” “I know.” The words were simple. They meant rather more than that. The connection ended. For a while, Shammy remained beside the balcony doors. Ace settled onto the arm of her chair. Mai stood beside them, one hand resting lightly on Shammy's shoulder. “Well?” Ace asked. “She wants to come.” “Of course she does.” “She's checking transport.” “Good.” Shammy looked up at Mai. “She sounded happy.” Mai smiled. “So did you.” “I am.” Ace leaned down and kissed Shammy's temple. “We all are.” Shammy reached for her hand. Mai's fingers joined theirs. The three remained together for a quiet moment. Then Ace said, “You know what?” Mai sighed. “I'm almost afraid to ask.” “If Imani makes it down Friday, that's practically the whole Stable in Night City before Saturday.” “Not necessarily all in one place,” Mai reminded her. “Obviously.” “Or at the safehouse.” “Obviously.” “Or needing Victor.” Ace gave her a wounded look. “Mai, darling, I am capable of understanding logistics.” Shammy considered that. Then said, very gently: “You once attempted to solve a scheduling conflict by suggesting everybody simply arrive at the same time.” Ace stared at her. “That was efficient.” “There were three different locations.” “Minor complication.” Mai burst out laughing. Ace sighed theatrically. “Betrayed. In my own home. By both women I love.” Shammy drew Ace down into a kiss. Ace stopped complaining. For approximately fifteen seconds. Then she pulled back. “So.” Mai smiled. “So?” “Who's next?” Mai glanced at her holo. There were still friends to contact. Kiro. And other practical details that would need attention before Friday. She opened her contacts. But before she could make another call, a message arrived from Nadia. NADIA: Sera, I have been thinking about Saturday. Shammy looked down at her own holo. Another message followed. NADIA: I think we should wear something that makes at least one fixer forget what they were saying. Shammy's smile became positively dangerous. Ace noticed. “Oh, no.” Mai looked at her. “What?” Ace pointed at Shammy. “That's her artist smile.” Shammy calmly typed a reply. SERA: Only one? A moment passed. Then Nadia answered. NADIA: You're right. We should be ambitious. Shammy started laughing. Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Ace. They both knew that laugh. Somewhere in Watson, two artists had just begun planning their appearance at Rogue's party. And Rogue, quite fortunately, had no idea. --- ## Chapter 5 — The Trouble with Invitations Kiro answered Mai's call with a screwdriver between her teeth. Mai waited. Kiro looked at the incoming call, recognized her, and made a thoughtful noise that was entirely incomprehensible. “Hello, darling,” Mai said. “Would you like to remove that before we attempt a conversation?” Kiro pulled the screwdriver free. “Depends. Is this an emergency?” “No.” “Did Ace break something?” “Not today.” “Did Brenda?” “Nothing she's admitting to.” “Then I have approximately five minutes before this thing decides to make my life miserable.” Mai looked at the equipment visible behind her. “What is it?” “A problem.” “What kind?” “The kind that worked perfectly yesterday and has apparently developed religious objections to doing its job.” Mai smiled. “Have you considered threatening it?” “Already tried.” “And?” “It doesn't believe in God.” From the sofa, Ace started laughing. Kiro looked past Mai. “Oh, she's there.” “Unfortunately.” “Hey!” Ace protested. Kiro grinned. “Hello, Ace.” “Hello, gorgeous. What are you breaking?” “Your chances of getting free technical support.” “Cruel.” “Experienced.” Mai gave a small, satisfied nod. “Now. I have an invitation.” Kiro leaned back in her chair. “An invitation.” “Yes.” “To what?” “Rogue's annual fixer party. Saturday night.” Kiro stopped moving. Then she carefully placed the screwdriver on her workbench. “Rogue Amendiares?” “Yes.” “The annual party with the other fixers?” “The very one.” “And you're going?” “Apparently the entire Stable has been invited.” Kiro stared at her. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then: “What?” Mai laughed. “All eleven of us. Rogue wants us there as guests.” Kiro looked away from the holo. Looked back. “Mai.” “Yes?” “Have you checked whether Rogue has recently suffered a head injury?” “Oddly enough, that was one of my first questions.” “Good. Because this sounds like something somebody would propose immediately after being hit with a very large object.” Ace appeared over Mai's shoulder. “That's what makes it brilliant.” Kiro looked at her. “No, that's what makes it concerning.” “Why can't it be both?” Kiro opened her mouth. Paused. Then smiled. “Fair.” Mai settled into a more comfortable position. “There's no professional obligation. It's a private party. We attend as guests, choose our own company, and enjoy ourselves.” Kiro's expression changed. The technical curiosity remained, but something warmer joined it. “Oh.” “Yes.” “So Deja isn't being booked.” “No.” “She gets to go to a party.” “Exactly.” Kiro considered that. Then slowly grinned. “That's actually rather wonderful.” “I thought you might think so.” “And who's attending?” Mai named the eight fixers. Kiro listened without interrupting. When Mai finished, she leaned forward. “Dakota Smith?” “Yes.” “Interesting.” Mai caught the change in her voice. “Do you know her?” “By reputation. A little professionally. She's somebody I've wanted to have a proper conversation with.” “About what?” “Several things.” Mai waited. Kiro looked innocent. “Technical things.” “Of course.” “Communications infrastructure. Information reliability. The way people build practical networks under difficult conditions.” “All very respectable.” “Entirely.” Ace leaned closer to the holo. “And absolutely nothing involving an attractive woman.” Kiro looked at her. “She's attractive?” Ace grinned. “I have no idea. I just wanted to see your face.” “Bitch.” “Love you too.” Mai laughed. Kiro shook her head. Then her expression softened. “Are you going as Dalia?” “Yes.” “Good.” One word. A slight change in her voice. Mai noticed immediately. “So we'll have an evening together.” “Among other things.” “Among other things,” Mai agreed. Kiro leaned closer. “Will you save me a dance?” Mai's answer was immediate. “Several.” “Promise?” “Darling, I wouldn't dream of letting you escape without dancing with me.” Kiro smiled. It was a different smile from the one she'd given Ace. Less defensive. Less performative. Simply pleased. “I've missed that.” “So have I.” There was a moment of quiet affection between them. Then Kiro's eyes narrowed. “Although I should warn you.” “Oh?” “If I get an opportunity to talk to Dakota Smith about her communications systems, you may have to come and rescue me.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “From Dakota?” “From myself. I might spend three hours discussing network architecture.” Ace considered that. “Mai, we could just send Dakota a warning.” “Absolutely not,” Kiro said. “Something tasteful. Beware: enthusiastic netrunner. May attempt to explain packet routing during dinner.” “ACE.” Mai laughed. “Kiro, darling, I think Dakota can decide for herself how much conversation she wants.” “Thank you.” “And if you spend three hours discussing network architecture, I'll come find you when it's time to dance.” Kiro smiled again. “Deal.” She glanced at the equipment behind her. Something on one of the displays had begun flashing. “Oh, shit.” “Your patient?” Mai asked. “My extremely uncooperative patient.” “Go save it.” “I intend to.” “And Kiro?” “Yes?” Mai's voice softened. “I'm looking forward to seeing you.” Kiro met her eyes. “Me too.” The connection ended. Ace regarded Mai thoughtfully. Mai looked back. “What?” “Several dances?” “Yes.” “Should I be jealous?” “Terribly.” Ace nodded gravely. “I'll start immediately.” Shammy, who had been sitting beside her, reached over and caught Ace's hand. “Would you like to dance with me instead?” Ace turned. Her grin appeared instantly. “Oh, absolutely.” “And Mai?” Mai smiled at them both. “I'll dance with everyone I love.” Ace considered that. “That's going to be a busy evening.” “Yes,” Mai said. “Rather.” By late afternoon, Mai had completed the remaining invitations. Not through a group message. Not through Panam. And certainly not by assembling the entire Stable in one room. She had simply called her friends. Some conversations had been brief. Others had wandered delightfully away from the original subject. By the end of them, Mai was beginning to understand why Rogue had chosen Thursday. It wasn't only about giving everyone time to prepare. It was about giving everyone time to enjoy the anticipation. There was something rather pleasing about that. A party didn't truly begin when the first guest walked through the door. Sometimes it began two days earlier, when somebody called and said, Would you like to come? And the answer was a smile. Or laughter. Or a dangerous expression. Or, in Ace's case, immediate consideration of footwear. Mai was reviewing her notes when Iris approached with two fresh cups of coffee. “One for you.” “Thank you.” Iris sat beside her. “Everyone contacted?” “Yes.” “And?” “Very positive.” Iris smiled. “Excellent.” She glanced at the invitations Mai had recorded. Then looked thoughtful. “Do we know who the fixers are bringing?” “No.” “Not even Rogue?” “Especially not Rogue.” Iris laughed. “Of course.” Mai studied her for a moment. “You're looking forward to it.” “I am.” “Good.” Iris hesitated. Then smiled. “It's been a while since Brenda and I attended a party together as Nova and Vega.” Mai considered that. “An entirely different social environment from your usual evenings.” “Quite.” “Does that worry you?” “Not particularly.” Iris sipped her coffee. “I'm curious.” “About the fixers?” “About everyone.” Mai smiled. “That sounds familiar.” Iris laughed softly. There was a pause. Then Iris glanced toward the dining table, where Brenda had finally begun packing away her equipment. “Vega has already informed me that she's going to be on her worst behavior.” Mai closed her eyes. “Of course she has.” “Her exact words were rather more colorful.” “I can imagine.” “No,” Iris said with a smile. “I don't think you can.” Mai looked at her. Iris calmly drank her coffee. Then they both started laughing. --- Brenda had, in fact, been thinking about Saturday for the better part of an hour. This was why the last section of her calibration had taken considerably longer than expected. Not because she was distracted. She preferred to think of it as parallel processing. Her equipment was finally packed away when Ace wandered over. “Thinking about the party?” Brenda looked up. “Obviously.” “Anything specific?” “Several things.” “Such as?” Brenda leaned back in her chair. “Eight fixers. Sixteen people on their side. Eleven on ours.” “Twenty-seven.” “Thank you, professor.” “Always happy to help.” Brenda smiled. “It's a room full of people who spend their lives making decisions that affect everyone else.” “Yep.” “And Rogue wants them to relax.” “Yep.” “And she's bringing us.” Ace's grin widened. “Yep.” Brenda shook her head. “Oh, this is going to be beautiful.” Ace perched on the edge of the table. “Question.” “Shoot.” “How long before somebody says something incredibly stupid?” “Among the fixers or among us?” “Either.” Brenda considered. “Depends who's drinking.” Ace nodded. “Reasonable.” “And whether Rogue's surprise is any good.” Ace looked interested. “What surprise?” “Mai said there's something special at the bar.” “Oh, right.” “Any guesses?” “Whiskey.” “Mai said it wasn't whiskey.” “Then expensive whiskey.” “That's still whiskey.” “Very expensive whiskey.” Brenda stared at her. Ace stared back. Then both women started laughing. Iris approached just in time to hear the end of it. “Should I ask?” “No,” Mai called from the kitchen. “Definitely not,” Shammy added. Iris smiled. “Then I won't.” Brenda rose, wrapped her arms around her wife, and kissed her. Iris returned the kiss with interest. Ace watched them for a moment. Then looked toward Mai. “See? That's a much better idea than organizing.” Mai gave her a look. “We have finished organizing.” Ace stood immediately. “Excellent.” Shammy rose from the sofa. “Where are we going?” Ace held out both hands. “Somewhere Mai can't make another list.” Mai laughed. “That narrows the possibilities considerably.” Ace grinned. “Darling, we have an entire bedroom.” Shammy's smile softened. “And a free evening.” Mai looked from one to the other. Then put her holo down. “Now that,” she said, “is an invitation I can accept without consulting anyone.” Ace caught her hand. Shammy took the other. And the three of them left the kitchen together. --- Elsewhere in Night City, Rogue was reviewing Saturday's arrangements. The venue was secured. The guest list was settled. Her fellow fixers had confirmed, some with considerably more questions than others. The catering was under control. The bar had been stocked according to her precise instructions. Especially the vodka. Rogue looked at the confirmation for that particular delivery. Genuine vodka. Not a synthetic approximation. Not something with an ambitious label and an alarming ingredient list. The real thing. She smiled. It had taken some effort to arrange. Worth it. She poured herself a whiskey and leaned back in her chair. Saturday was going to be interesting. She could already imagine Wakako's expression. Regina's. Dino's inevitable commentary. The way Hands would attempt to remain composed no matter what happened. And the look on Padre's face when he realized just how unconventional the guest list had become. Rogue chuckled. Then her holo chimed. A message from Mai. MAI: Invitations have been delivered. Everyone is enthusiastic. Imani is still arranging travel from Crystal Palace; Elisa's arrival is being coordinated separately. I'll confirm the final attendance when those details are settled. Rogue read it. Then smiled. Efficient. Clear. No promises beyond what had actually been confirmed. Exactly why she'd called Mai first. She typed a reply. ROGUE: Good. Tell Ace I expect her to behave. The response arrived almost immediately. MAI: You and I both know that would be an unreasonable expectation. Rogue laughed. Then another message appeared. MAI: But I promise she'll have fun. Rogue considered that. Finally, she typed: ROGUE: That's what I'm counting on. She set the holo aside. Took a sip of whiskey. And thought about Saturday. There was one particularly satisfying detail about the evening that nobody else knew yet. Her avec. Rogue smiled into her glass. Oh, they were going to have questions. She was looking forward to answering absolutely none of them. --- ## Chapter 6 — Friday Arrivals Friday morning found Mai in the kitchen, considering a message from Crystal Palace. She read it once. Smiled. Then read it again. Ace noticed immediately. “What?” “Imani.” Shammy looked up from her coffee. “Has she heard about the transport?” “She has.” Mai turned the holo toward them. **IMANI**: Transport confirmed. Departure clearance approved. I should reach Night City sometime in the evening, assuming everything runs on schedule. I'll send the final arrival details when they're available. ❤️ Shammy's face brightened. “Oh, wonderful.” Ace raised both arms. “YES!” From the dining table came an outraged noise. “Jesus Christ, Ace!” Brenda had nearly dropped a component the size of a fingernail. Ace looked over. “What?” “Some of us are working!” “Some of us are celebrating!” “Could you celebrate at a slightly lower volume?” Ace considered that. “No.” Iris, sitting beside Brenda, laughed. Brenda looked at her wife. “Don't encourage her.” “Darling, I haven't said anything.” “You're smiling.” “I'm happy Imani's coming.” “That's not why you're smiling.” “No,” Iris admitted. “It isn't.” Brenda sighed and returned to her work. Mai looked at the message again. “Friday evening. That gives her time to rest before Saturday, provided there aren't any delays.” “And time to prepare Anna,” Shammy said. “If her particular preparations require anything that can't wait until Saturday, we'll arrange it,” Mai replied. “But I'm not sending her racing across Night City immediately after coming down from orbit.” Ace leaned against the counter. “Agreed. First, we feed her.” Shammy smiled. “Then we hug her.” “Then we feed her again.” Mai looked at her wife. “Are you planning a welcome or an agricultural fattening program?” Ace grinned. “Why choose?” Shammy laughed. Mai sent Imani a short reply. **MAI**: Wonderful news. Send the details once they're final. We'll arrange your arrival without rushing you. Safe travels, darling. ❤️ Shammy added her own message. **SHAMMY**: I'm so happy you're coming. Ace looked thoughtful for a moment. Then typed. **ACE**: WARNING: WATSON CURRENTLY CONTAINS FIVE PEOPLE WHO MISS YOU VERY MUCH. ARRIVE PREPARED FOR HUGS. Imani's reply appeared shortly afterward. **IMANI**: That sounds considerably more dangerous than orbital reentry. Ace grinned. “She's definitely coming.” Mai kissed her cheek. “Yes, darling.” For a little while, Friday felt pleasantly uncomplicated. Then Mai's holo chimed again. This time it was Elisa. --- Elisa had been awake long enough to regret agreeing to one final meeting before her departure. Not because the meeting had been particularly difficult. Because it had been particularly unnecessary. She had spent twenty minutes listening to three executives explain something that could have been communicated in a four-line message. At the end, one of them had asked whether she wished to add anything. She had. It had taken her less than ten seconds. Nobody had seemed particularly pleased. Elisa considered the meeting a success. Now she sat in her office with her weekend bag beside the desk and her security manager standing nearby, reviewing the final details of her departure. He looked up from his display. “The inbound transfer is confirmed.” Elisa smiled. “Reyes?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” “She has the location and arrival window. Our detail will retain responsibility until the transfer is formally completed.” “And afterward?” “Reyes takes over. We won't follow.” “Good.” Her security manager studied her for a moment. “You've used this arrangement before.” “Yes.” “Then you know the procedure.” “Intimately.” His expression remained professional. Elisa noticed. And smiled. “Oh, don't look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you're deciding whether I'm going to be troublesome.” “I would never presume.” “Liar.” The corner of his mouth moved. Elisa laughed. She liked him. More than most of the people responsible for keeping her alive, certainly. He knew his job, understood discretion, and possessed enough of a sense of humor to survive prolonged exposure to her. There were also things he knew about Bea that he did not know about Elisa. And things Elisa knew about him that neither had any intention of discussing in an office. It was an arrangement that worked beautifully precisely because both understood the boundaries. “Will you be available for the return handoff?” she asked. “Unless something changes. We can confirm it during your visit.” “Good.” He closed the display. “Anything else?” “Yes.” He waited. “If someone schedules an emergency meeting while I'm away, I want you to ask whether anything is actually on fire.” “And if it isn't?” “Tell them to put something on fire and try again.” He looked at her. Elisa maintained a perfectly serious expression. Finally, he said, “I'll use my judgment.” “That's why I keep you.” “I thought it was my charming personality.” “That too.” He offered her the slightest smile. “Your transport is ready.” Elisa stood. For a moment, she looked at the bag. A simple thing. Clothes, personal necessities, a few items for the weekend. Nothing that suggested the scale of the life she was stepping away from. She liked that. Very much. “Then let's go.” --- Reyes was already at the transfer point when Elisa's vehicle arrived. She had deliberately given herself more time than she expected to need. This was not because she anticipated trouble. It was because experience had taught her that arriving exactly on time was an excellent way to discover that somebody else had made a mistake. Her vehicle waited nearby. The location remained suitable. The approach was clear. Her Friday afternoon, so far, was behaving itself. Which was fortunate. She had plans. Rather important plans. A notification appeared on her holo. **VICTOR**: Still coming? Reyes smiled faintly. **REYES**: Yes. **VICTOR**: On time? **REYES**: Planning to be. **VICTOR**: I'll alert the medical journals. She laughed under her breath. Then Elisa's armored vehicle approached. Reyes put the holo away. Work first. --- The vehicle stopped at the agreed position. Elisa's security manager emerged and walked toward her. “Reyes.” She nodded. “Good afternoon.” They completed the verification without unnecessary conversation. The procedures were familiar. Neither tried to make them impressive. Elisa's security remained responsible until the transfer was complete. Reyes took over only after both sides had confirmed the handoff. The distinction mattered. So did the information neither side requested. There was no reason for Elisa's security team to learn the safehouse location. They knew the transfer point. They knew Reyes. They knew the agreed procedure for returning Elisa to their protection. That was enough. When the final confirmation was completed, the rear door of the armored vehicle opened. Elisa stepped out. She saw Reyes. And smiled. “Well, there's a familiar face.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?” “Terribly. I was hoping for someone tall, mysterious, and devastatingly handsome.” “Should I call your security manager back?” Elisa laughed. “Oh, don't be difficult.” “You started it.” “Did I?” “Yes.” “Then I'm pleased to see our relationship remains unchanged.” Reyes looked at her weekend bag. “That's everything?” “Yes.” “Good.” Elisa glanced toward her security manager. “Thank you.” “Enjoy your weekend.” “Oh, I intend to.” He smiled. “I'm sure.” Elisa narrowed her eyes. “Is that professional skepticism?” “Professional experience.” “Cheeky bastard.” He looked entirely unrepentant. Reyes waited while they exchanged their final goodbyes. Then Elisa turned back toward her. “Shall we?” “After you.” Elisa climbed into Reyes's vehicle. Reyes checked that she was settled, completed the last handoff acknowledgment, and got behind the wheel. Only after Elisa's security detail had departed did she start the engine. The transfer was complete. And Elisa, for the next few days, belonged entirely to herself. --- They made it through approximately four blocks before Elisa began talking. Reyes had expected three. She considered four a pleasant surprise. “So.” “No.” Elisa turned toward her. “I haven't asked anything!” “You were about to.” “That's an outrageous assumption.” “Based on experience.” Elisa laughed. “Honestly, Reyes. You could at least pretend to be pleased to see me.” “I am pleased.” “Your face is remarkably discreet about it.” “My face has a job.” “And does that job permit smiling?” “Occasionally.” “Under what circumstances?” “When people stop asking questions.” Elisa sighed. “Tragically restrictive.” Reyes checked a mirror. “How've you been?” That surprised Elisa enough to stop her teasing. “Busy.” “I gathered.” “Somewhat tired.” “Also gathered.” “And increasingly convinced that certain people should be prohibited from scheduling meetings.” “That sounds familiar.” Elisa smiled. Then she looked at Reyes. “How about you?” “Good.” “Work?” “Fine.” “Life?” “Also fine.” Elisa studied her profile. “That's unusually positive.” “Enjoy it while it lasts.” “Oh, I intend to.” They drove another short distance. Then Elisa said, “I'm very excited about Saturday.” Reyes kept her eyes on the road. “Rogue's party?” “Yes.” “Should be interesting.” “That's an understatement.” “Probably.” Elisa leaned back. “Eight fixers, their guests, and the entire Stable.” “So I've heard.” “I wonder what Rogue's trying to accomplish.” “Could be she's just throwing a party.” Elisa gave a delighted laugh. “You don't believe that.” “Doesn't matter what I believe.” “Such a wonderfully evasive answer.” “Thanks.” Elisa watched the traffic for a moment. Then asked, “Are you working Saturday?” Reyes considered the question. There was nothing particularly complicated about answering it. Not every question required a detailed explanation. “No. I've got personal plans.” “Oh?” “Mm.” “Anything enjoyable?” Reyes smiled faintly. “Very.” Elisa's expression brightened. “Well, good for you.” “Thanks.” “And here I thought you spent every weekend finding new ways to get shot at.” “Only the boring ones.” Elisa laughed. That was all. No suspicious questions. No awkward evasions. No unnecessary references to identities Elisa had no reason to connect. Reyes had a private life. Elisa respected that. And Reyes was perfectly content to keep it that way. After another minute, Elisa glanced at her. “You seem happy.” Reyes's smile returned. “I am.” Elisa smiled back. “I'm glad.” For a moment, the conversation rested there. Then Elisa looked out at Night City moving past the window. “God, I've missed this place.” Reyes gave her a sideways glance. “Night City?” “No.” Elisa smiled. “The people.” Reyes understood. “Yeah.” And continued driving. --- The old commercial building in Watson looked much as Elisa remembered. Unremarkable frontage. No advertisement of its real purpose. Nothing to suggest that the upper floor contained one of the most important places in her life. Reyes parked. They stepped out. Elisa carried her own bag. At the street entrance, the security system identified them separately. Reyes. Elisa. Both authorized. The armored lower door released. They entered, and it secured itself behind them. Elisa looked toward the stairs. “Funny.” “What?” “I know this place well enough now that I recognize the approach.” Reyes nodded. “Good.” “But it still feels like I'm entering somewhere that doesn't quite belong to the rest of the city.” “That's partly the idea.” Elisa smiled. “I know.” They climbed to the upper landing. The safehouse door remained closed. Elisa pressed the bell. A camera indicator changed. Reyes looked directly into it. “Don't.” Elisa blinked. “Don't what?” “Not you.” Ace's voice came through the speaker. “Wow. Hostile.” Reyes closed her eyes. Elisa started laughing. “You haven't even opened the door!” “I saw her face,” Reyes replied. “My face is beautiful,” Ace announced. “Your face is annoying.” “Both can be true!” Mai's voice followed, a little farther from the speaker. “Ace, open the door.” “I'm greeting our guests.” “You're irritating Reyes.” “That's my traditional greeting.” Reyes leaned toward the camera. “Open the fucking door, Ace.” “See?” Ace declared. “She missed me.” The lock disengaged. A moment later, the upper door was opened manually. Ace stood behind it. Mai was beside her. For one heartbeat, Elisa stopped. There they were. Not images on a holo. Not voices traveling across the city. Ace, with those vivid violet eyes already full of mischief. Mai, wearing that quietly delighted expression she sometimes tried to conceal beneath perfect composure. Two women Elisa knew intimately. Two women she'd missed far more than she'd intended to admit. Her bag hit the floor. “Oh, fuck it.” Ace barely had time to laugh before Elisa crossed the threshold and wrapped both arms around her. “Hi,” Ace managed. “Hi.” Elisa held her tightly. Ace held her back. Then Elisa pulled away just far enough to look at her. And kissed her. Properly. Not a social greeting. Not a tentative little peck. A warm, familiar kiss from a woman who had been looking forward to this particular moment for days. Ace made a small sound of surprise. Then smiled against Elisa's mouth and drew her closer by the waist. For several seconds, the rest of Night City could have ceased to exist. When they finally separated, Ace looked extraordinarily pleased. “Well.” Elisa laughed. “Well?” “That's how you say hello.” “I thought you might approve.” “Immensely.” Elisa turned toward Mai. Mai was smiling. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Elisa caught her gently by the front of her shirt and drew her close. Mai came willingly. Their kiss was different. Slower. Less impulsive. Mai's hand settled at the back of Elisa's neck, her thumb resting lightly beneath her ear. Elisa smiled into the kiss. Mai noticed. Of course she noticed. When they separated, Mai remained close enough that their foreheads almost touched. “Welcome home,” Mai murmured. Elisa's breath caught for a moment. Then she laughed softly. “Oh, that's unfair.” Mai's smile deepened. “What is?” “Saying exactly the right thing.” “I do try.” Elisa kissed her once more. Briefly. Tenderly. Then Ace cleared her throat. Elisa turned. “Yes?” “I feel neglected.” Mai closed her eyes. “Ace.” “What? She kissed you twice.” Elisa stared at her. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, you ridiculous woman.” Ace spread her arms. “I'm simply asking for equal treatment.” “Of course you are.” Elisa stepped back toward her, caught her by the collar, and kissed her again. Ace returned it with enthusiasm. When Elisa released her, Ace looked triumphant. “Better.” “You are impossible.” “Loved anyway.” “Unfortunately,” Elisa said, smiling. Reyes, still standing outside the threshold, watched the entire performance with the expression of someone who had learned long ago that some things were best left entirely uncommented upon. Ace noticed her. “Don't look at me like that.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” “Judgmentally.” “I'm assessing the security implications.” “Of kissing?” “Of leaving you unsupervised.” Elisa doubled over laughing. Mai shook her head. “Reyes, darling, that battle was lost years ago.” “Clearly.” “ELISA!” Brenda's voice came from inside the safehouse. A moment later she appeared, Iris close behind her. Elisa turned. “Oh, look at you two!” Brenda grinned. “Look at you. Finally escaped the boardroom?” “Temporarily.” “Did anyone die?” “Not for lack of provocation.” “Excellent!” They embraced, laughing. Iris followed with a warm hug of her own. “It's lovely to see you.” “You too, sweetheart.” Elisa held her for another moment. Then glanced between the two married women. “How's domestic life?” “Wonderful,” Iris answered. “Terrible,” Brenda said simultaneously. Iris turned toward her. “Darling?” Brenda grinned. “She keeps distracting me while I'm working.” “By kissing you?” “Yes!” Elisa looked appalled. “Monstrous. Have you reported this?” “Repeatedly.” “And?” “Management refuses to intervene.” Mai folded her arms. “Management has concluded that the two of you are beyond help.” Ace nodded solemnly. “A tragic case.” Iris kissed Brenda's cheek. Brenda immediately forgot what she had been complaining about. Elisa laughed. Then she saw Shammy. The tall woman had been standing just inside the living area, smiling quietly while the others completed their greetings. Elisa's expression softened at once. “Shammy.” “Hello, Elisa.” Elisa crossed to her and wrapped her arms around her. Shammy returned the embrace without hesitation. It was a different kind of reunion. Unhurried. Comfortable. A moment in which neither woman had to perform anything. Elisa rested her cheek briefly against Shammy's shoulder. “Oh, I've missed you.” Shammy's arms tightened. “I know.” “And you?” “Very much.” A faint movement passed through Shammy's silver-white hair. Elisa drew back far enough to look at her. “You give wonderful hugs.” Shammy smiled. “You're very good at receiving them.” Elisa laughed and kissed her cheek. “I'll take that as a compliment.” “It was one.” There was something especially lovely about Shammy's directness. Elisa had missed that too. Behind them, Ace slipped an arm around Mai. Their eyes met over Elisa's shoulder. For a moment, the three members of the Triad shared a small, private smile. One of their loved ones had returned. The household felt fuller for it. Reyes shifted her weight beside the open door. Ace noticed immediately. “Hey.” Reyes looked at her. “What?” “You're not staying?” “No.” “Not even for coffee?” “Can't.” Mai turned. “Another appointment?” “Yes.” “Important?” Reyes considered the question. Then smiled faintly. “To me.” Ace's eyes narrowed. “Oh?” “No.” “I haven't asked anything.” “Exactly.” Elisa laughed. “Good luck extracting information from her. I tried during the drive.” “And?” Ace asked. “I learned that she has a private life and is apparently enjoying it.” Ace looked at Reyes. Reyes looked back. There was a brief silence. Then Ace smiled. “Good.” Reyes blinked. That wasn't quite the response she'd expected. Ace stepped closer and hugged her. It was quick, familiar, and affectionate. Reyes returned it with one arm. “Have fun,” Ace said quietly. Reyes's expression softened. “Planning to.” Mai approached next. “Thank you for bringing her.” “Of course.” “And for keeping the arrangements separate.” “That's the job.” “Still. Thank you.” Reyes nodded. Elisa came back toward the doorway. “Reyes?” “Yes?” She hugged her too. Reyes sighed theatrically. “Christ. Is everyone hugging me today?” “Apparently.” Elisa smiled. “Thank you.” Reyes looked at her. Then gave her a small, genuine smile. “Enjoy your weekend.” “I intend to.” “And don't let Ace talk you into anything stupid.” Elisa considered that. “Can I let her talk me into something fun?” Reyes shook her head. “That's usually the same thing.” Ace looked outraged. “HEY!” Reyes turned toward the stairs. “Bye, Ace.” “You're a menace!” “Learned from the best.” The door closed after her. Downstairs, Reyes stepped into the afternoon light. She checked the time. Good. Elisa's handoff was complete. The client was safe. Her corporate security detail had received the necessary confirmation. Nothing about the operation had compromised the safehouse or its people. Now she could turn her attention to her own plans. Her holo showed one remaining appointment. VICTOR. Reyes opened it. Confirmed the time. Then smiled. This wasn't a complicated operation. Not by her standards. There was no enemy surveillance to avoid. No hostile extraction. No one to rescue from an impossible situation. Just a visit to a trusted ripperdoc, a transformation she already knew well, and a woman she very much wanted to surprise. The difficulty lay in doing it properly. Reyes would visit Victor as Reyes. She would receive the temporary voice-sculpt required for Birgitta. The rest of the transformation would be completed privately, away from anyone who had no business knowing how the two identities were connected. And then— Panam. Reyes thought about the last time she'd seen her. About that familiar voice. The way Panam could become wonderfully, helplessly pleased when something surprised her. The particular warmth in her eyes when she looked at Birgitta. Reyes's smile grew. She opened their message history. Panam's latest message was waiting. **PANAM**: Saturday feels a long way off. Reyes laughed softly. “Oh, sweetheart.” She thought about replying. A hint, perhaps. Something teasing. Then she decided against it. A proper surprise was worth keeping. Instead, she sent a message under Birgitta's identity. **BIRGITTA**: Thinking of you, Owner. ❤️ The answer arrived shortly afterward. **PANAM**: Miss you, beautiful. Reyes looked at it for a long moment. Then her expression softened. “Not for much longer.” She put the holo away. Started the vehicle. And headed for Victor's clinic. --- Upstairs at the safehouse, Elisa had finally accepted a cup of coffee. Brenda had surrendered enough of the dining table to accommodate an additional person. Iris was sitting beside her, looking deeply amused. Ace had taken possession of the chair nearest Elisa. Mai was preparing something to eat. Shammy settled comfortably on Elisa's other side. For the first time since beginning her journey, Elisa had absolutely nothing she needed to accomplish. No meetings. No schedules. No executives. No security briefings. Just coffee, familiar faces, and the beautiful certainty that nobody in the room expected her to be anything other than herself. She looked around. Then sighed happily. “Oh, God. This is perfect.” Ace grinned. “We haven't even started Friday night.” Elisa turned toward her. “Should I be worried?” “Yes,” Brenda said. “No,” Mai answered. Shammy considered. “Possibly.” Iris laughed. Elisa looked at Ace. Ace spread her hands. “What?” Elisa shook her head, smiling. “I've missed you so much.” Ace leaned over and kissed her cheek. “We know.” Mai appeared with a plate of food. “And we're very glad you're here.” Elisa looked at the five people around her. Then down at the food. Then back at Mai. “You really are going to spoil me, aren't you?” Mai smiled. “Darling, you've come to the wrong household if you expect otherwise.” Elisa laughed. And Friday afternoon, which had begun in an office full of people demanding her attention, became something infinitely better. A homecoming. --- ## Chapter 7 — The Woman Victor Knows Victor looked up when the clinic door opened. Reyes stepped inside. He took one look at her expression and sighed. “Oh, Christ.” Reyes stopped. “Hello to you too, Vic.” “You're smiling.” “Am I?” “Yes.” “Is that medically concerning?” “With you? Depends what caused it.” Reyes closed the door behind her. “No injuries. No broken chrome. No bullet holes. Nothing bleeding.” Victor leaned back in his chair. “That's an unusually promising start.” “I thought you'd appreciate it.” “I would, if I believed it was the whole story.” Reyes smiled. Victor pointed at her. “See? That.” “What?” “That smile.” “I'm having a good day.” “And now you want something.” “An appointment.” “You already have an appointment.” “Then we're both doing an excellent job.” Victor stared at her. Reyes stared back. Finally, he shook his head. “Sit down, smartass.” She did. Victor brought up her records. “Birgitta?” “Yes.” “Same voice?” “Of course.” “Any problems with the last sculpt?” “No.” “Discomfort? Irregularities? Anything unusual when it wore off?” “Nothing.” Victor nodded. “Good.” He examined the previous settings. Reyes watched him work. There was a familiarity to the scene now that hadn't existed during her first visit. Back then, Birgitta had been an idea. A carefully constructed identity. A face and voice that would allow Reyes to walk into an entirely different part of Night City without carrying her professional reputation through the door. Now Birgitta had a history. Friends. People who looked forward to seeing her. A woman who loved her. Victor glanced sideways. “Something funny?” Reyes blinked. “What?” “You're smiling again.” “Sorry.” “No, you're not.” “No.” Victor sighed. “How long?” “Through Sunday morning. A little margin would be useful.” “Starting now?” “Yes.” He selected the appropriate duration. “Busy weekend?” “Very.” “Work?” “Not exactly.” Victor looked at her. Reyes smiled. He put down the stylus. “Rogue's party.” Reyes stopped smiling. Victor looked profoundly satisfied. “Oh, that's interesting.” “Vic.” “Saturday night. Half the city has been talking about it.” “Not half the city.” “Enough of it.” Reyes folded her arms. “Who told you?” Victor shrugged. “People talk.” “Which people?” “People who need things fixed.” “Helpful.” “Glad to be of service.” He returned to his terminal. “Let me guess. Birgitta's going.” “Yes.” “With Madame Panam's Stable.” “Yes.” Victor looked at her again. “And Panam?” Reyes gave him a long, flat stare. Victor's expression changed. Recognition arrived. Then comprehension. Then a slow, delighted smile. “Oh.” “Don't.” “Oh, Reyes.” “Vic.” He leaned back. “Does she know?” “Know what?” “That you're—” “Victor.” He stopped. Reyes's expression was no longer amused. Victor knew that look. He raised one hand. “Understood.” A moment passed. Then he said more quietly, “Still just us?” “And Lena. Shammy figured it out herself.” Victor nodded. “And Panam doesn't know.” “No.” He considered that. Then turned back to the medical display. “Right. Let's keep it still that way.” Reyes relaxed slightly. “Thank you.” “It's your identity, Reyes. Not mine to give away.” She smiled. Victor caught it. “Although,” he added, “I reserve the right to think this is fucking hilarious.” Reyes laughed. “Fair.” --- The procedure itself was familiar. Victor had already established Birgitta's vocal profile, and there was no reason to redesign something that worked. He checked the existing settings, verified that the previous temporary sculpt had fully resolved, and prepared the new one. Reyes sat patiently. Mostly. Victor glanced at her. “Stop looking at the clock.” “I'm not.” “You've checked it three times.” “Professional habit.” “Bullshit.” Reyes smiled. Victor shook his head. “Whoever you're trying to see will still be there when I finish.” Reyes considered that. Then laughed softly. “Oh, I hope so.” Victor paused. He looked at her for a moment. Something about the answer had been different. Not the words. The feeling behind them. “You really like her.” Reyes looked at him. There was no reason to pretend otherwise. “Yes.” Victor nodded. “Good.” The simplicity of it caught her pleasantly off guard. She smiled. Then he pointed at the chair. “Now sit still before I accidentally make you sound like a malfunctioning vending machine.” “Cruel.” “Experienced.” When Victor finished, he adjusted a final setting and studied the readings. “Say something.” Reyes considered. Then, in Birgitta's brighter voice, said, “You're an adorable old bastard.” Victor looked up. “Oh, that's definitely her.” Birgitta laughed. The sound was unmistakably different from Reyes's natural voice. Lighter. Warmer. More openly expressive. Victor made a small adjustment. “Again.” “What would you like me to say?” “Anything.” “Then I'd like you to stop making me perform like a trained animal.” Victor smiled. “Good. Voice is clean.” He completed the diagnostics. Birgitta listened to herself speak again. There she was. Not merely a pitch change. Not simply Reyes speaking differently. A voice that belonged to a woman with her own habits, pleasures, memories, and ways of approaching the world. Victor watched her expression. “You happy?” “Very.” “Good.” He removed the final equipment. “Duration's set. You know what to watch for. Call if anything feels wrong.” “I will.” “And don't leave it until the last possible minute if you need an adjustment.” “Understood.” Victor gave her a look. “I mean it.” “I know.” Birgitta rose from the chair. Victor watched her collect her belongings. There was something entertaining about how little of the transformation he had performed today. The face-mesh already existed. The wardrobe already existed. The hair and eye styling were not his job. All he'd done was prepare the voice. Yet the woman standing before him was already beginning to move differently. Reyes hadn't disappeared. Victor knew better than that. But Birgitta was arriving. He found himself smiling. “Have fun.” Birgitta looked at him. “Oh, I intend to.” Victor narrowed his eyes. “Should I ask?” “No.” “Good. I wasn't going to.” She reached the door. Then stopped. “Vic?” “Yeah?” “Thank you.” His expression softened. “Anytime.” Birgitta smiled. Then she left. Victor watched the door close. For several seconds, he remained perfectly still. Then he looked at the empty chair. “Rogue's party,” he muttered. He shook his head. “Jesus Christ.” And returned to work. --- Reyes had arranged her next steps carefully. There was a private location where she could complete the transformation without attracting attention. Not the safehouse. Not a public dressing room. Not somewhere Panam might unexpectedly appear. She reached it without incident. Inside, she secured the door, set down her bag, and opened the case containing Birgitta's equipment. Everything was where it belonged. The face-mesh. The accessories. The clothing she'd chosen. The small collection of objects that existed for Birgitta alone. Reyes took a moment to look at them. She remembered the first time she'd assembled this identity. How strange it had felt. How deliberate. Every choice made to create a woman who could move through a different world without bringing Reyes's reputation along. Now the process felt almost domestic. Familiar. A change of clothes before going to see someone she loved. She smiled. Then began. The face-mesh settled into place. Her familiar reflection changed. The styling followed. Muted copper-grey hair. Very light brown eyes. The brighter voice Victor had just restored. The last details came together. When she finally looked into the mirror, Birgitta looked back. She tilted her head. Smiled. Then laughed. “Oh, she's going to kill me.” The woman in the mirror looked entirely delighted by the possibility. Birgitta checked her holo. Panam's latest message was still there. **PANAM**: Miss you, beautiful. She considered replying. Then decided against it. Some things were much better delivered in person. --- Panam's Friday evening was proceeding quietly. She had finished the work she intended to finish. Her city apartment was in something approaching order. Dinner was still an unresolved question. And Saturday was taking an unreasonable amount of time to arrive. She stood in the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator. Then closed it. Opened it again. Nothing had improved. “Fuck.” She considered ordering food. That would have been sensible. She considered cooking. That would have required deciding what she wanted. She considered calling Birgitta. That was considerably more appealing. Panam opened her holo. Looked at Birgitta's name. Smiled. Then shook her head. “No. Let the girl have her evening.” She put the holo down. A moment later, the doorbell rang. Panam looked toward the door. She wasn't expecting anyone. Her expression sharpened automatically. The apartment's security display showed the visitor. For a full second, Panam didn't move. Then she leaned closer. Copper-grey hair. A familiar face. A small overnight bag. And the most outrageously pleased smile she'd seen in weeks. Panam stared. “No fucking way.” She opened the door. Birgitta stood in the hallway. “Hello, Owner.” Panam blinked. Once. Twice. “Birgitta?” “Unless you were expecting someone else.” Panam looked her up and down. The bag. The clothes. The smile. Then back at her face. “You said Saturday.” Birgitta's smile widened. “I said I'd see you at the party on Saturday.” Panam stared. “I didn't say I wouldn't see you Friday.” There was a heartbeat of silence. Then Panam started laughing. “You sneaky little bitch.” Birgitta looked delighted. “Surprise.” “Oh, you have no fucking idea.” Panam stepped forward. Birgitta barely had time to put down her bag before Panam caught her by the waist and pulled her close. Their kiss was immediate. Warm. Hungry with missing each other. Birgitta laughed softly against Panam's mouth. Panam kissed her again. When they finally separated, Panam rested her forehead against hers. “Jesus, I missed you.” “I know.” “Don't sound so pleased with yourself.” “I can't help it.” Panam laughed. Then hugged her properly. Birgitta wrapped both arms around her and held on. For several seconds, the hallway ceased to matter. There was only the familiar weight of Panam's arms. The warmth of her body. The extraordinary relief of being exactly where Birgitta wanted to be. Panam drew back. “Are you staying?” Birgitta raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to?” Panam stared at her. Then laughed again. “Get your ass inside.” “Yes, Owner.” Birgitta picked up her bag. Panam caught her hand before she could take a second step. “And Birgitta?” “Yes?” “Thank you.” The answer caught Birgitta by surprise. She looked at Panam. Panam smiled. “For coming early.” Birgitta's expression softened. “I wanted another night with you.” Panam's hand tightened around hers. “You've got one.” Then she pulled Birgitta inside and closed the door. An hour later, dinner had finally been resolved. Panam had ordered enough food for considerably more than two people. Birgitta had laughed at the quantity. Panam had told her to shut up and eat. Birgitta had obeyed with suspicious enthusiasm. Now they sat together on the sofa, plates mostly empty, the city glowing beyond the windows. Birgitta rested comfortably against Panam. Panam's arm lay around her shoulders. Nothing needed doing. No vehicles needed repairing. No routes needed planning. Nobody was asking for help. For once, neither woman had anywhere else she wanted to be. Panam kissed the top of Birgitta's head. “You really planned this.” “Mm-hmm.” “All of it?” “Yes.” “Just to surprise me?” Birgitta lifted her head. “Mostly.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Mostly?” “I also wanted you to myself for a little while before tomorrow.” Panam considered that. Then smiled. “Smart girl.” “I have moments.” Panam kissed her. Birgitta answered without hesitation. When they separated, Panam kept her close. “You know what I was doing when you rang the bell?” “What?” “Trying to decide whether to call you.” Birgitta laughed. “Really?” “Really.” “And?” “I decided to let you have your evening.” Birgitta stared at her. Then started laughing harder. “Oh, Panam.” “What?” “You absolute sweetheart.” “Don't.” Birgitta kissed her cheek. “Too late.” Panam shook her head. “You're unbearable.” “Your unbearable.” Panam smiled. “Yeah.” Her hand settled against Birgitta's cheek. “Mine.” Birgitta leaned into the touch. For a while, neither said anything. Then Panam asked, “Are you tired?” “A little.” “Long day?” “Busy.” “Want to go to bed?” Birgitta looked at her. The question was simple. The invitation beneath it was not difficult to understand. She smiled. “Very much.” Panam rose and held out her hand. Birgitta took it. They left the dishes for later. The city could wait. Saturday could wait. For tonight, there was no party, no crowd, no reason to be anywhere but together. At the bedroom door, Birgitta caught Panam's wrist. Panam turned. “What?” Birgitta stepped close. Kissed her slowly. Then rested her forehead against hers. “I love you.” Panam's expression softened. “I love you too.” Birgitta smiled. “Good.” Panam laughed. “Good?” “Yes.” “That's all?” “For now.” Panam wrapped her arms around her. “Come here, you impossible woman.” Birgitta went willingly. And Friday night, which had begun with a secret appointment and a carefully planned surprise, ended exactly where she'd hoped it would. In Panam's arms. They made it as far as the bed before the last of the day's restraint gave way. Panam pulled Birgitta down with her, both of them laughing when the mattress bounced. Birgitta's copper-grey hair spilled across the pillow. Panam propped herself on one elbow and just looked at her for a second. “Still smug?” “Extremely.” Panam kissed her, slower this time, and Birgitta answered by sliding a hand under the hem of Panam's shirt. The touch was familiar and new at once. Panam exhaled against her mouth. “Missed this,” she murmured. “I know.” They undressed each other without ceremony. Shirts, pants, the quiet rustle of fabric hitting the floor. When Birgitta's hands found bare skin, she made a soft sound that went straight through Panam. Panam rolled them, settling between Birgitta's thighs, and the older woman wrapped her legs around her without hesitation. “Owner,” Birgitta whispered, half teasing, half breathless. Panam laughed against her collarbone. “Yeah?” “Less talking.” “Bossy.” She kissed down Birgitta's throat, then lower, taking her time with the places she already knew. Birgitta's fingers threaded into her hair. When Panam's mouth closed over a nipple, Birgitta arched, a quiet curse slipping out. Panam smiled against her skin and kept going, mapping the familiar landscape of her body with lips and tongue and the occasional scrape of teeth that made Birgitta's breath catch. By the time Panam's hand slid between her thighs, Birgitta was already wet. Panam circled her clit with two fingers, light at first, then firmer when Birgitta's hips pushed into the touch. “There,” Birgitta managed. Panam hummed and slipped two fingers inside, curling them. Birgitta's free hand gripped the sheets. Panam worked her steadily, watching her face, adjusting when Birgitta's breathing changed. The room filled with soft sounds: skin on skin, the occasional laugh when Panam did something particularly good, Birgitta's low voice saying her name. When Birgitta came, it was with her forehead pressed to Panam's, one hand tight on her shoulder, the other still in her hair. Panam stayed with her through it, slowing only when the last shivers eased. Birgitta pulled her up and kissed her, tasting herself on Panam's mouth. “Your turn.” Panam grinned. “Demanding.” Birgitta flipped them with surprising ease and settled between Panam's legs. She took her time, kissing down Panam's stomach, then lower. When her tongue finally found Panam's clit, Panam swore and spread her thighs wider. Birgitta was thorough and a little mean about it, licking and sucking until Panam's hips were moving on their own. Two fingers slid inside, and Panam's hand found the back of Birgitta's head. “Fuck— right there—” Birgitta hummed and kept the rhythm. Panam came harder than she'd expected, thighs tightening around Birgitta's shoulders, a rough sound leaving her throat. Birgitta stayed until it passed, then crawled back up and collapsed half on top of her. They lay tangled, catching their breath. Panam's hand rested on the small of Birgitta's back. Birgitta's cheek was against her collarbone. “Still think surprising me was clever?” Panam asked eventually. Birgitta's laugh was muffled against her skin. “Absolutely.” Panam kissed the top of her head. “Good. Because I'm not letting you leave in the morning.” “Wasn't planning to.” They stayed like that until sleep pulled them under, the city lights still moving beyond the window. --- ## Chapter 8 — Welcome Back to Earth Imani had always thought the most beautiful thing about returning to Earth was the moment it stopped looking like a planet and started looking like somewhere people lived. From Crystal Palace, Earth was magnificent. Blue oceans. White clouds. The thin, luminous curve of atmosphere separating an entire civilization from the blackness beyond. An impossible view. One she had never quite grown tired of. But it was also distant. There was no smell of coffee in that view. No traffic. No laughter coming from another room. No warm hand reaching across a table to steal something from your plate. And certainly no Ace saying something so outrageous that everyone else immediately forgot what they had been discussing. Imani smiled at the thought. Her transport had departed without complications. The descent had been routine, the kind of routine that required an extraordinary amount of machinery and several layers of people being very good at their jobs. Now the shuttle was approaching the final stages of its journey. Night City waited somewhere below. And, according to her holo, so did several people who had absolutely no intention of letting her arrive quietly. She opened the latest message. **ACE**: IMPORTANT QUESTION. Imani laughed. **IMANI**: I'm almost afraid to ask. **ACE**: HOW MUCH LUGGAGE? **IMANI**: One case. **ACE**: THAT'S IT? **IMANI**: I am visiting for a weekend, Ace. **ACE**: SO? Imani shook her head. A second message arrived. **MAI**: Please ignore my wife. We'll arrange to meet you after arrival clearance. **IMANI**: Thank you, darling. I'll send the final details once I'm released. **SHAMMY**: Looking forward to seeing you. ❤️ Imani looked at the last message for a moment. Then smiled. **IMANI**: I know. She put the holo away as the cabin lighting changed. For a while, she watched the world grow closer. Friday evening. Saturday's party. And, somewhere between them, the remarkable pleasure of being welcomed home. --- At the Watson safehouse, Elisa had discovered that Brenda's latest project was much more interesting than it had any right to be. She had also discovered that asking Brenda one innocent question could produce a twenty-minute explanation involving materials science, power tolerances, and something described as a completely reasonable engineering decision. Elisa was beginning to suspect that this phrase meant approximately the opposite of what Brenda believed it meant. “So,” Elisa said, regarding the small device on the dining table, “what happens if it fails?” Brenda looked offended. “It won't.” “Hypothetically.” “Depends how.” “Spectacularly.” From the kitchen, Mai looked up. “No.” Elisa turned toward her. “I haven't suggested anything!” “You asked Brenda to describe a spectacular failure.” “Purely academic curiosity.” “That is how half the trouble in this house begins.” Brenda folded her arms. “You people have absolutely no respect for experimental engineering.” Iris, sitting beside her wife, smiled. “Darling, I respect your engineering enormously.” “Thank you.” “I simply prefer it when all the walls remain attached to the building.” Brenda considered that. “Reasonable preference.” Elisa began laughing. There it was again. That effortless absurdity. A few hours earlier, she'd been surrounded by people who could spend an entire meeting carefully avoiding saying what they meant. Here, Brenda could describe something as a success because nobody had been injured. Elisa had missed it terribly. Mai entered carrying a plate of food. “Brenda, will this device still be occupying the table tomorrow?” Brenda considered the question. “Define tomorrow.” “After midnight.” “Technically—” “Brenda.” “No.” Mai smiled. “Thank you.” Elisa nodded solemnly. “Masterful diplomacy.” Brenda muttered something about oppressive domestic regimes. Iris kissed her cheek. “You love it here.” Brenda looked at her. Then smiled. “Yeah.” A moment passed. “Even with the tyranny.” Mai sighed. Elisa laughed harder. Then Mai's holo chimed. She glanced down. Her expression changed. “Oh.” Iris looked up. “Good news?” “Very good.” Mai turned the display toward them. **IMANI**: Landing confirmed. Waiting for arrival clearance. I'll message when I'm released. Brenda grinned. “Excellent!” Elisa's face brightened. “Oh, wonderful.” Iris smiled. “She's almost here.” Mai nodded. “I'll let Ace and Shammy know.” She sent a brief message to the two women, who had gone out earlier to take care of a few errands before collecting Imani. A reply came back almost immediately. **ACE**: ALREADY HEADED TOWARD ARRIVALS. Mai smiled. “Of course they are.” Elisa laughed. “Do you think Ace's enthusiasm has survived the entire journey?” “I suspect it's increased.” “That seems medically unlikely.” “She's Ace.” “Fair point.” --- Across the city, Ace was driving with the comfortable confidence of someone who knew Night City's roads far too well. Shammy sat beside her. Her silver-white hair caught the light as she studied the latest message from Imani. “She's landed.” Ace grinned. “Excellent.” “Still waiting for clearance.” “Then we've got time.” Shammy glanced at her. “Time for what?” “Flowers.” Shammy smiled. “We already bought flowers.” “More flowers.” “Ace.” “What?” “We have a perfectly lovely bouquet in the back.” “We could get another.” “And where would Imani sit?” Ace considered that. “Fair point.” Shammy laughed. For a little while they drove in companionable silence. Then Ace glanced toward her. “Happy?” “Very.” “Me too.” Shammy smiled and reached across the center console to rest her hand briefly on Ace's arm. The touch was familiar. Quiet. Entirely sufficient. Ace caught her hand for a moment and kissed her fingers before returning her attention to the road. “Think she's tired?” “Probably.” “Then we should get her home.” “Yes.” “And feed her.” “Of course.” “And hug her.” “Definitely.” Ace looked thoughtful. “And maybe let her sleep before we start talking about Saturday.” Shammy turned toward her. “That's remarkably sensible.” “I have moments.” “Yes,” Shammy said affectionately. “You do.” At the safehouse, Mai was doing something considerably less exciting. She was ensuring there would be somewhere for seven people to sit down and eat without Brenda's equipment occupying half the dining table. Brenda watched her clear a small collection of components into an organized tray. “You know, I was going to do that.” “Were you?” “Eventually.” “Before dinner?” Brenda hesitated. “Define dinner.” Iris laughed. Mai gave her a look. Brenda raised both hands. “All right! All right!” She stood and began helping. Elisa watched them with a delighted expression. “Does this happen often?” “Daily,” Iris said. “Sometimes twice,” Mai added. Brenda looked offended. “I am a responsible adult.” “Of course you are, darling,” Iris said. Brenda narrowed her eyes. “That sounded suspiciously affectionate.” “It was.” “Oh.” Iris smiled. Brenda leaned over and kissed her. Elisa sighed happily. “God, I love this house.” Mai looked around the room. The dining table was finally beginning to resemble a place where people might eat. The food was ready. Imani was safely on the ground. Ace and Shammy were on their way to meet her. For once, everything seemed to be proceeding according to plan. Mai regarded this situation with deep suspicion. Then her holo chimed again. **IMANI**: Cleared and collecting luggage. Where should I meet them? Mai forwarded the message. A response arrived from Ace. **ACE**: TELL HER TO LOOK UP WHEN SHE COMES OUT. Mai closed her eyes. “Oh, dear.” Elisa looked up. “What?” “Nothing.” “Mai.” “Ace is being Ace.” Elisa laughed. “Then Imani's in excellent hands.” “Enthusiastic hands.” “Even better.” Imani emerged from the arrivals area feeling the accumulated weight of the journey. Nothing was wrong. She was simply tired enough that the prospect of a shower, a good meal, and familiar company had become extraordinarily attractive. She collected her case. Checked her holo. Then smiled at the latest message. **ACE**: LOOK UP. Imani looked up. Nothing. She turned. Still nothing. Then she heard a familiar voice. “Not that far up!” Imani turned again. Ace stood beyond the arrivals area, waving with enough enthusiasm to attract the attention of several passing travelers. Beside her stood Shammy. Tall. Silver-white hair falling over her shoulders. Smiling. For a moment, Imani simply stared. Then her face broke into a delighted grin. “Oh, you beautiful idiots.” Ace opened her arms. Imani abandoned all attempts at dignity. She hurried toward them. Ace met her halfway. Their embrace was enthusiastic enough that Imani's case nearly toppled over. “HELLO!” “Hello, Ace!” “You made it!” “I did!” “Actual Earth!” “Apparently!” Ace drew back. Imani looked at her. Then laughed. “Oh, God, you're exactly as ridiculous as I remembered.” “Better.” “Worse.” “Better.” “Definitely worse.” Ace grinned. Imani kissed her cheek. “Missed you.” Ace's expression softened. “Missed you too.” Then Shammy stepped closer. Imani turned. And the laughter quieted. “Shammy.” “Hello, Imani.” Imani moved into her arms. Shammy held her warmly. No jokes. No elaborate greetings. Just a long, comfortable embrace. Imani closed her eyes. There was something about the simple solidity of another person after a journey that had spent so much time separating her from everything familiar. Shammy's hand settled gently between her shoulders. “You're here.” Imani laughed softly. “I am.” “How was the journey?” “Long.” “Difficult?” “No. Just long.” Shammy held her a little tighter. “Then we're glad you made it.” Imani drew back. She looked at Shammy's face. Then at Ace. Then back at Shammy. “I missed you both.” Ace leaned against her. “We know.” “Modest as ever.” “Obviously.” Imani looked around. “Where's Mai?” “Home,” Shammy answered. “With Iris, Brenda, and Elisa.” “Elisa's there already?” Ace grinned. “Arrived this afternoon.” “Oh, wonderful.” “And she's been making up for lost time.” Imani raised an eyebrow. “Has she?” Ace's grin grew positively wicked. Shammy gave her a look. “Ace.” “What?” “Let Imani recover from orbital travel before you start.” “I was merely informing her that everyone is happy.” “Of course you were.” Imani burst out laughing. “Some things never change.” Ace picked up her case. “Come on. Let's get you home.” Imani looked at her. “That's not heavy.” “I know.” “I can carry it.” “I know.” “Ace.” Ace grinned. “Humor me.” Imani regarded her for a moment. Then smiled. “All right.” They walked toward the exit together. Shammy remained close beside her. And for the first time since leaving Crystal Palace, Imani felt the peculiar, wonderful relief of no longer having to arrange anything. Someone else had come to meet her. Someone else knew where they were going. All she had to do was come along. During the drive, Imani found herself increasingly fascinated by the simple fact that Night City hadn't changed very much. The traffic was still appalling. The advertising was still aggressively insulting to human intelligence. Someone was apparently attempting to sell a product whose promotional claims required several laws of physics to resign. Ace drove with the comfortable confidence of someone who knew the city far too well. Shammy sat beside Imani. “You're quiet,” Shammy observed. “Am I?” “A little.” Imani smiled. “Just looking.” “At the city?” “At everything.” She watched another enormous advertisement slide past. “Crystal Palace is beautiful.” “Yes.” “But sometimes I forget how wonderfully unreasonable everything down here is.” Ace laughed from the front. “That's Night City.” “Entirely too many people.” “Yep.” “Too much noise.” “Yep.” “Questionable architecture.” “Definitely.” Imani smiled. “And I missed it.” Shammy took her hand. Imani looked down. Then squeezed gently. “Mostly because of the people,” she added. Ace glanced at them in the mirror. “Obviously.” A moment passed. Then Imani asked, “So. Saturday.” Ace's grin appeared. “Oh, Saturday.” “Have we learned anything new?” “Only that Rogue is keeping several things to herself.” “Such as?” “Her avec.” Imani tilted her head. “She hasn't said who she's bringing?” “Nope.” “Interesting.” “Right?” Shammy smiled. “Mai refuses to ask.” “Why?” “Because she doesn't want Rogue to know she's curious.” Imani laughed. “That sounds exactly like Mai.” Ace nodded. “She's suffering.” “Terribly?” “Heroically.” Imani leaned back. “And the rest of the fixers?” “We know the names. Not all their guests.” Imani considered that. “Eight fixers and eleven women from the Stable.” “Yep.” “That could become a rather interesting room.” Ace laughed. “That's what we're counting on.” Shammy looked toward the passing city. “I think Nadia's looking forward to it.” “Oh, I can imagine.” “She and Sera are planning their outfits.” Imani turned toward her. “Sera?” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” “Oh, God.” Ace started laughing. Imani looked between them. “What?” “Nothing,” Shammy said. “That's not a nothing smile.” Ace glanced back. “She's plotting.” “I am considering artistic presentation,” Shammy corrected. “Which, in this case,” Ace said, “means making wealthy people forget their own names.” Imani laughed. “Excellent.” Shammy looked pleased. “I thought you'd understand.” “Darling, I fully support the arts.” Ace shook her head. “I'm surrounded by troublemakers.” Imani leaned forward. “Ace.” “Yes?” “Where exactly do you think you stand in that particular hierarchy?” Ace considered. Then smiled. “Near the top.” “Precisely.” --- Back at the safehouse, Mai was checking the time. Elisa had helped Iris finish setting the table. Brenda had finally packed away the remaining components. The place looked almost suspiciously orderly. Mai wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. Then her holo chimed. **ACE**: TEN MINUTES. Mai smiled. She looked toward the others. “They're nearly here.” Elisa's face brightened. “Oh, wonderful.” Brenda glanced toward the door. “Should we prepare a welcome?” Iris looked at her. “What kind of welcome?” Brenda smiled innocently. “Nothing dramatic.” Mai narrowed her eyes. “Brenda.” “What?” “No surprises involving machinery.” “I wasn't going to suggest machinery!” “Good.” “A banner, perhaps.” Mai closed her eyes. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” Elisa burst out laughing. “That's exactly what Ace wanted!” Brenda looked delighted. “Really?” “Yes.” “See? Great minds.” “Absolutely not,” Mai said. Iris kissed Brenda's cheek. “Darling, let's just welcome her normally.” Brenda considered. Then sighed. “Fine.” A moment passed. “Boring, but fine.” Ten minutes later, the street-level entrance recognized three authorized arrivals. Ace and Shammy accompanied Imani upstairs. At the upper landing, Ace pressed the bell. Mai opened the safehouse door manually. Imani barely had time to step through before she found herself in Mai's arms. “Oh, darling.” Mai held her close. “Welcome back.” Imani laughed softly. “Thank you.” Mai drew back. Studied her face. Then touched her cheek. “You look tired.” “Long journey.” “Hungry?” “A little.” “Good. We have food.” Imani laughed. “Of course you do.” “And somewhere comfortable for you to settle.” “Oh, Mai.” “What?” “You've been planning my recovery.” “Someone has to.” Ace stepped past them carrying the case. “I offered to bring a banner.” Imani stared. “A banner?” “Mai refused.” “Tragically,” Shammy said. Mai looked at her. “Don't encourage her.” Imani dissolved into laughter. Then Iris appeared. “Imani!” “Oh, sweetheart!” They embraced warmly. Brenda followed, grinning. “Welcome back to gravity.” Imani laughed. “Thank you.” “Any complaints?” “About gravity?” “Travel, infrastructure, orbital technology, anything interesting.” Iris gave Brenda a warning look. “Darling.” “What?” “She's been traveling.” “I know!” “She doesn't need an engineering interview.” Brenda considered that. “Tomorrow?” “No.” “Sunday?” Imani laughed harder. “I'll tell you all about the journey after I've had something to eat.” Brenda beamed. “Excellent.” Iris kissed her cheek. “See? Patience.” “Overrated,” Brenda muttered. Then Elisa emerged from the living area. Imani stopped. “Elisa!” Elisa's face lit up. “Imani!” They embraced. For a moment, neither woman seemed particularly interested in letting go. Elisa drew back first. “Look at you!” “Look at you!” “You've escaped orbit.” “And you've escaped your office.” Elisa grinned. “Temporarily.” “Wonderful.” “Isn't it?” Imani looked around the room. Mai. Ace. Shammy. Iris. Brenda. Elisa. Six familiar faces. Six people whose company made the distance from Crystal Palace feel entirely worthwhile. She shook her head. “Oh, this is ridiculous.” Mai smiled. “What is?” “I spent most of yesterday organizing a trip across a rather substantial portion of space.” “Yes?” “And now that I'm here, all I want is dinner and to sit with you.” Ace grinned. “That can be arranged.” “Apparently so.” Mai took her hand. “Come on.” Imani followed. Dinner was noisy. Not because anyone was arguing. Because seven people who liked one another very much had an extraordinary number of things to say. Imani described the journey. Brenda asked three sensible engineering questions and approximately six less sensible ones. Iris interrupted before the seventh could become a lecture. Elisa entertained everyone with a carefully edited account of her final meeting, which included a description of an executive whose principal talent appeared to be speaking at length without introducing information. Ace offered to solve the problem. Mai declined on Elisa's behalf. Shammy listened, laughed, and occasionally said something so unexpectedly precise that the entire table dissolved again. At one point, Imani set down her fork and simply watched them. Mai noticed. “Something wrong?” “Not at all.” “Then what?” Imani smiled. “I was just thinking.” “Dangerous,” Ace said. “Very.” Imani looked around the table. “I've spent so much time in places where everybody is extraordinarily careful about who they appear to be.” Elisa nodded slowly. “Oh, I know that feeling.” “And here,” Imani continued, “everyone seems perfectly comfortable being an absolute idiot.” Ace raised her glass. “Finally, someone recognizes our greatest achievement.” Brenda raised hers too. “To idiocy.” “Brenda,” Iris said. “What?” Iris smiled. Then raised her own glass. “To selective idiocy.” Mai sighed. Shammy laughed. And Imani joined the toast. --- Later, once dinner had been cleared and the last of the travel fatigue was beginning to catch up with her, Imani found herself sitting beside Shammy on the sofa. Ace and Mai had gone to the kitchen together. Iris and Brenda were talking quietly near the dining table. Elisa was making herself another drink. The household had settled into a slower rhythm. Shammy glanced at Imani. “Tired?” “A little.” “Happy?” “Very.” Shammy smiled. Imani studied her for a moment. Then leaned against her shoulder. “Thank you for calling me yesterday.” “Of course.” “No, really.” Shammy waited. Imani looked toward the window. “It's strange. I spend so much time surrounded by people who are perfectly happy to invite me somewhere because they need something.” “Yes.” “And yesterday you called because you wanted me there.” Shammy considered that. Then answered simply. “Yes.” Imani smiled. “I liked that.” Shammy slipped an arm around her. “Good.” They sat quietly for a while. Then Imani laughed softly. “Tomorrow should be interesting.” “Very.” “Do you think Rogue understands what she's invited?” Shammy looked thoughtful. Then smiled. “I think Rogue understands exactly what she's invited.” Imani raised an eyebrow. “And?” “I don't think she can predict what everyone will do.” Imani considered that. Then began to laugh. “Oh, that's much better.” “Yes,” Shammy agreed. “It is.” --- Elsewhere in Night City, Panam had finally stopped pretending she was going to get any useful work done. Birgitta had seen to that. Not deliberately. Well. Not entirely deliberately. But Panam had spent enough time missing her that having her suddenly present in the apartment felt like an unexpected gift. They had eaten. Talked. Laughed. Kissed. And now the evening belonged to them. Birgitta stood by the window, looking out over the city. Panam approached quietly. Wrapped both arms around her waist. And rested her chin on her shoulder. “Hey.” Birgitta smiled. “Hello, Owner.” “Still pleased with yourself?” “Immensely.” Panam laughed softly. “You really got me.” “I did.” “Didn't suspect a thing.” “That was the idea.” Panam kissed her cheek. Birgitta leaned back against her. For a while, they watched the city together. Then Panam said, “You know, I was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Birgitta turned slightly. “Were you?” “Very much.” “And now?” Panam smiled. “Now I'm looking forward to waking up beside you.” Birgitta's expression softened. “Oh.” Panam caught it. “What?” “Nothing.” “Birgitta.” She turned in Panam's arms. Then kissed her. Slowly. When she drew back, she was smiling. “That's an even better plan.” Panam laughed. “Good.” She took Birgitta's hand. “Come on.” “Where?” “Bed.” Birgitta's smile widened. “Yes, Owner.” They made it to the bedroom with most of their clothes still on. Panam pushed Birgitta onto the bed and followed, kissing her while her hands worked at the remaining buttons and zippers. Birgitta laughed when a strap caught and helped, kicking her pants off one-handed. When they were bare from the waist down, Panam settled between her thighs and reached down to touch her. Birgitta was already wet. Panam stroked her once, twice, then pushed two fingers inside and curled them. “Fuck—” Birgitta's head tipped back. Panam fucked her with a steady, unhurried rhythm, thumb on her clit, free hand braced beside her head. Birgitta's legs wrapped around her hips. She came quickly, a sharp little sound, hips jerking against Panam's hand. Panam kept moving until it eased, then withdrew her fingers and brought them to Birgitta's mouth. Birgitta licked them clean, eyes bright. “Your turn.” She pushed Panam onto her back and straddled one thigh, grinding down while her hand slipped between Panam's legs. Two fingers inside, thumb circling. Panam swore and gripped her hip. Birgitta rode the motion, watching her face, and Panam came with her free hand fisted in the sheet and Birgitta's name on her tongue. They collapsed together afterward, still half-dressed from the waist up, laughing breathlessly against each other's mouths. “Saturday can wait,” Panam said eventually. Birgitta kissed her jaw. “Yes, Owner.” And the city continued glowing beyond the windows while two very happy women decided that Saturday could take its time arriving. --- At the Watson safehouse, Mai checked the time. Friday was nearly over. Imani was safely down from Crystal Palace. Elisa had arrived without incident. Nadia had sent Shammy several messages about tomorrow. Kiro was looking forward to an evening out. The invitations had been delivered. The necessary preparations were coming together. And Rogue's party was now less than a day away. Mai put down her holo. Ace approached from the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Thinking?” “Always.” “About tomorrow?” “Among other things.” Ace kissed her cheek. “Worried?” Mai considered the question. Then smiled. “No.” Ace looked mildly surprised. “Really?” “Really.” “Even with eight fixers?” “Yes.” “Eleven women?” “Yes.” “Rogue?” “Especially Rogue.” Ace grinned. “That's my girl.” Mai turned in her arms. Kissed her. Then rested her forehead against hers. “It's going to be an extraordinary evening.” Ace smiled. “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “We haven't even started.” Mai laughed. And somewhere across Night City, a surprising number of people were preparing for exactly the same Saturday night. None of them knew quite what to expect. Which, Mai suspected, was precisely how Rogue wanted it. --- ## Chapter 9 — Saturday Morning, Bad Decisions Pending Saturday morning began with a disagreement about coffee. Not the quality. Not the quantity. The ownership. “That's mine,” Brenda said. Ace examined the mug in her hand. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “Absolutely?” “It's got my name on it.” Ace turned the mug. BRENDA. She considered this. “Compelling evidence.” “Give it back.” “But it's already full.” “Because I filled it!” “Excellent initiative.” Brenda stared at her. Iris, seated beside her wife at the dining table, quietly put down her own coffee. “Ace.” “Yes?” “Give Brenda her mug.” Ace sighed theatrically. “Nobody appreciates improvisation in this household.” Mai entered the kitchen just in time to see Ace surrender the stolen coffee. “Good morning.” “Your wife is a menace,” Brenda announced. “Which one?” Ace grinned. Shammy, who had followed Mai into the kitchen, laughed. Brenda looked between them. “That's a very unfair question.” Mai kissed Ace's cheek on her way past. “Darling, why are you stealing Brenda's coffee?” “I wasn't stealing it.” “You were holding it.” “Briefly.” “Against her wishes?” “Technicality.” Mai reached for a clean mug. “Make your own.” “I was going to.” “Then do so.” Ace looked at Shammy. “See what I have to endure?” Shammy leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yes. Coffee accountability. Terrible.” Brenda laughed so hard she nearly spilled the mug she'd just recovered. Saturday was off to a promising start. Imani emerged from the guest hallway a little later, looking considerably better than she had the previous evening. She'd slept well. That alone felt like a minor luxury. Travel between Crystal Palace and Earth wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but the accumulated procedures, schedules, and hours of being politely managed tended to leave her longing for somewhere nobody needed to inspect her documents. She followed the sound of laughter toward the kitchen. And found exactly what she expected. Mai was making breakfast. Ace was arguing about something. Shammy was smiling. Brenda had already occupied a portion of the dining table. Iris was watching her wife with unmistakable affection. Elisa sat at the counter, holding coffee and looking extraordinarily pleased with life. Imani stopped in the doorway. “Oh, good.” Seven heads turned. Ace grinned. “She's alive!” Imani raised an eyebrow. “Was that in doubt?” “Orbital travel. Very dangerous.” “I survived.” “Heroically.” Imani laughed. “Good morning, you idiots.” Shammy immediately rose. “Sleep well?” “Beautifully.” “Good.” Imani crossed to her and accepted a warm hug. Then Ace appeared. “My turn.” “You hugged me approximately seventeen times yesterday.” “Eighteen is a better number.” Imani laughed and hugged her. Mai approached with a fresh cup. “Coffee?” “Oh, God, yes.” Mai handed it over. Imani took a sip. Closed her eyes. And sighed. “There. Civilization.” Elisa nodded solemnly. “Precisely.” Brenda looked up. “You're calling this household civilized?” Imani glanced at her. “Civilization is a flexible concept.” Ace raised a finger. “That's what I've been saying for years.” “No,” Mai replied, “you've been arguing that rules are flexible.” “Related concepts.” “Not identical.” Imani laughed again. Then looked at Elisa. “How are you feeling?” “Wonderfully irresponsible.” “That sounds promising.” “It is.” Elisa gestured toward the room. “Two days without anybody asking me to approve a budget, resolve a personnel dispute, or attend a meeting that could have been a message.” “Magnificent.” “And tonight I get to be Bea.” Imani smiled. “And I get to be Anna.” Their eyes met. For a moment, both women looked entirely too pleased with themselves. Ace noticed. “Oh, no.” Elisa turned. “What?” “That's the same expression you had yesterday when Mai told you about the fixers.” “Is it?” “Yes.” Imani looked innocent. “Perhaps we're merely looking forward to a pleasant social evening.” Ace stared at her. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, I like Saturday.” Breakfast took longer than it needed to. Nobody complained. The conversation moved from Imani's journey to Brenda's latest project, then to an argument about whether Ace genuinely needed a particular pair of shoes for the evening. Ace maintained that she did. Mai maintained that she already owned several equally suitable pairs. Ace explained, with great patience, that equally suitable was not the same thing as the correct pair. Elisa listened with the intense concentration of someone attending an important academic lecture. “I see,” she said. Ace nodded. “Exactly.” “So the shoes are essential.” “Absolutely.” “And the others are inadequate.” “Not inadequate. Merely less appropriate.” “Tragic.” “Thank you!” Mai regarded Elisa. “You're encouraging her.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because it's fun.” Shammy laughed into her coffee. Iris leaned closer to Brenda. “You know, Vega might enjoy a new pair of shoes.” Brenda turned slowly. “Don't you fucking start.” Iris smiled sweetly. “I was only suggesting.” “You own enough shoes to equip a small army.” “Not all of them go with the dress I'm considering.” Ace pointed across the table. “SEE?” Brenda looked at Mai. “Can we ban this conversation?” Mai considered. “Tempting.” Elisa was laughing openly now. Imani shook her head in delight. “And I thought the political conversations on Crystal Palace were exhausting.” “Oh, those are easy,” Ace said. “Nobody actually believes what they're saying.” Mai gave her a look. “Ace.” “What?” “Some people do.” “That's even worse.” Brenda nearly choked on her coffee. Eventually the conversation returned to the practical question of the evening. Mai had a holo open, but she wasn't attempting to impose a schedule on everybody. She was confirming that the necessary arrangements had somewhere sensible to happen. “Before we get distracted again,” she said, “there are a few things to settle.” Ace looked disappointed. “We were doing so well.” “We were discussing shoes.” “An important topic.” “I know, darling.” Shammy rested her chin on her hand. “What do we need?” “First, the identities. Anyone who needs a temporary voice-sculpt should already have had the necessary appointment or have a confirmed arrangement that leaves enough time before tonight. We aren't improvising medical procedures on the way to a party.” Brenda nodded. “Reasonable.” “And nobody needs to visit Victor just because they use a face-mesh,” Mai continued. “Those are existing personal equipment. Different matter entirely.” Imani listened carefully. She had brought what she needed for Anna, and the remaining preparations were hers to manage. “Understood,” she said. Mai glanced at her. “And you're not going to exhaust yourself preparing after yesterday's journey.” Imani smiled. “I'm well rested.” “Good.” “I promise not to build a new personality from scratch before dinner.” Ace grinned. “Disappointing.” “Very.” Mai shook her head. “Second, the location. Rogue has the entire top floor of the tower. We have the venue details and entry arrangements. Nobody should need to guess which building or entrance they're supposed to use.” “Excellent,” Elisa said. “Third, the evening itself. It's a party. We're attending as guests. Nobody is there to fulfill a quota, meet expectations, or do anything they don't feel like doing.” Elisa lifted her mug. “To that.” Imani touched hers against it. “Absolutely.” Brenda leaned back. “And if somebody behaves like an asshole?” Mai smiled. “Then we handle it like adults.” Ace opened her mouth. Mai turned toward her. “Without violence.” Ace closed it. Shammy laughed. “She's disappointed.” “I'm considering my options.” “Consider words,” Mai advised. “Cruel.” “Practical.” Iris smiled. “I rather suspect Rogue has invited a collection of people who are accustomed to being told yes.” “That's precisely what makes it interesting,” Elisa said. Imani nodded. “People can surprise you when they don't have to behave according to their titles.” Brenda considered that. Then grinned. “And sometimes they surprise you by being exactly as ridiculous as you expected.” Ace raised her coffee. “To both possibilities.” They drank. --- Across Night City, Panam woke to the unfamiliar luxury of having absolutely no reason to get out of bed. She opened her eyes. For a moment, she simply looked at the ceiling. Then she became aware of the warm weight beside her. Copper-grey hair lay across the pillow. Birgitta was asleep, one arm resting comfortably over Panam's waist. Panam smiled. Oh, yes. Friday had been a very good day. She turned carefully. Birgitta stirred. Her eyes opened. For a moment, she looked mildly confused. Then she saw Panam. And smiled. “Morning, Owner.” Panam laughed softly. “Morning, beautiful.” Birgitta moved closer. Panam caught her in her arms and kissed her. There was no hurry in it. No surprise this time. Just the familiar pleasure of waking beside someone she'd spent far too many mornings missing. When they separated, Birgitta rested her forehead against Panam's. “Sleep well?” “Better than I expected.” Birgitta smiled. “Good.” “And you?” “Wonderful.” Panam brushed a strand of copper-grey hair away from her face. “Still pleased with yourself?” “Extremely.” “You really are a smug little thing.” “Only when I've done something clever.” “And surprising me was clever?” “Wasn't it?” Panam considered. Then kissed her again. “Very.” Birgitta laughed against her mouth. For a while, they stayed exactly where they were. Panam traced a slow, affectionate hand along Birgitta's back. Birgitta rested comfortably against her. Outside, the city had already begun making its customary demands on everyone unfortunate enough to be awake. Neither woman felt inclined to answer. Eventually Panam sighed. “We should probably have breakfast.” “Probably.” “Food.” “Yes.” “Coffee.” “Absolutely.” “Then we can think about tonight.” Birgitta opened one eye. “Do we have to think about tonight yet?” Panam looked at her. A smile spread across her face. “No.” “Good.” Birgitta kissed her. Panam drew her closer. Breakfast could wait a little longer. They stayed under the sheets, lazy and warm. Panam rolled onto her back and pulled Birgitta with her so the copper-grey hair spilled across her chest. Birgitta settled with her thigh between Panam's, and the contact was enough to make both of them shift. “Morning,” Panam said again, quieter. “Mm.” Birgitta's hand drifted down Panam's side, over her hip, and between her thighs. Panam was already slick from earlier. Birgitta stroked her slowly, two fingers sliding through the wetness, circling her clit without rushing. Panam's breath changed. She hooked a leg over Birgitta's hip to give her more room. “Tease,” she muttered. “Patient,” Birgitta corrected, and slipped two fingers inside. Panam exhaled, eyes half-closed. Birgitta fucked her with an easy, unhurried rhythm, thumb resting lightly on her clit. Every time Panam tried to speed it up, Birgitta eased back just enough to keep control. It made Panam laugh and swear in the same breath. “You're enjoying this.” “Very much.” When Panam came, it was quieter than the night before, a slow roll that left her hips pressing into Birgitta's hand and a satisfied sound against her neck. Birgitta kissed her through it, then withdrew her fingers and brought them to her own mouth. Panam watched, amused and a little ruined. “Your turn again?” she asked. Birgitta smiled. “If you want.” Panam pushed her onto her back and settled between her legs. She kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before licking a slow stripe up Birgitta's cunt. Birgitta's hand found her hair. Panam took her time, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her clit, two fingers curling inside once Birgitta started rocking into her mouth. The morning light made everything softer. Birgitta came with her free hand over her mouth, muffling the sound, thighs trembling around Panam's ears. They stayed tangled afterward, not in any hurry to move. Eventually Panam sighed. “We should probably have breakfast.” “Probably.” --- Later, they sat together in Panam's kitchen. Panam had ordered breakfast. A generous one. Birgitta looked at the spread. Then at Panam. “Planning to feed an entire nomad clan?” “No.” “Are you certain?” “Eat.” Birgitta laughed. “Yes, Owner.” Panam smiled into her coffee. There was something deeply satisfying about having Birgitta here. Not arriving for a brief meeting. Not saying goodbye after a few hours. Just here. Moving around the apartment as though she belonged. Because, Panam realized, in many ways she did. Birgitta caught her looking. “What?” “Nothing.” “Panam.” “I'm happy.” That quieted Birgitta immediately. Her smile softened. “Oh.” Panam shrugged. “Thought you should know.” Birgitta reached across the table and took her hand. “I am too.” For a moment, neither spoke. Then Panam's grin returned. “So. Today.” Birgitta laughed. “There it is.” “Eight fixers.” “Yes.” “Sixteen people on their side.” “Yes.” “And us.” Birgitta tilted her head. “Are you counting the entire Stable as us, or just you and me?” Panam's smile changed. “Both.” Birgitta laughed. “Good answer.” Panam leaned forward. “Any particular plans for tonight?” “Enjoy myself.” “Reasonable.” “Dance.” “Definitely.” “Have interesting conversations.” “Good.” Birgitta considered. “And perhaps meet someone worth remembering.” Panam smiled. “Oh, I'm counting on that.” There was no possessiveness in the answer. No suspicion. They had never needed their affection to mean that nobody else could interest them. Panam enjoyed Birgitta's curiosity. Birgitta enjoyed Panam's confidence. And both knew where they wanted to return when the evening was over. Panam lifted her coffee. “To tonight.” Birgitta touched her cup against it. “To tonight.” Then she smiled. “And to waking up beside you tomorrow.” Panam's expression softened. “Yeah.” She reached for Birgitta's hand again. “To that too.” --- Elsewhere in Watson, Nadia was standing in front of an arrangement of clothing that had somehow become more complicated since the previous evening. Sera was on her holo. The artist's silver-white hair framed a face that looked profoundly amused. Nadia held up one garment. “Well?” Sera considered it. “Interesting.” “Interesting good or interesting terrible?” “Interesting as in it will make people look.” Nadia smiled. “That was the idea.” “Then it works.” Nadia lowered the garment. “Now yours.” Sera looked at her. “What about mine?” “Don't pretend you haven't decided.” “I haven't entirely.” “Shammy.” The use of her familiar name drew a laugh. Nadia folded her arms. “White.” “Yes.” “Couture.” “Obviously.” “And something that makes everyone wonder whether the room's lighting has changed because you've walked in.” Sera tilted her head. “Would that be excessive?” Nadia stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, darling. We're attending a party hosted by Rogue Amendiares. Excessive is practically the invitation.” Sera's smile became dangerous. “Then perhaps we should take it seriously.” “Now you're talking.” They spent the next several minutes discussing shapes, movement, textures, and the difference between clothing that attracted attention and clothing that made people forget why they were staring. Nadia had her own ideas. Sera had hers. Neither intended to surrender them merely to create a matching pair. Their collaboration was considerably more interesting than that. Eventually Nadia set down the garment. “Do you think Padre will be there?” “Yes.” “I'd like to talk to him.” Sera smiled. “About art?” “Among other things.” “Good.” Nadia considered. “I've always found it interesting when people who spend their lives thinking about faith encounter people who spend their lives making things they can't entirely explain.” Sera's expression grew thoughtful. “Then perhaps he'll surprise you.” Nadia smiled. “I hope so.” Then she looked at the clothing again. “And if not, at least we'll look spectacular.” Sera laughed. “That too.” By early afternoon, the safehouse had developed the pleasant disorder that came with seven people preparing for an event. Not everyone was doing the same thing. Not everyone needed help. And nobody had suggested turning the preparations into a single enormous production line. Mai considered that progress. Elisa was reviewing Bea's wardrobe choices. Imani was quietly checking Anna's personal preparations. Iris and Brenda had disappeared into their bedroom to discuss clothing, although Mai suspected the conversation was not entirely about fabric. Shammy had left to spend some time with Nadia. Which left Mai and Ace in the living room. Ace stood in front of a mirror, examining two different pairs of shoes. Mai watched from the sofa. For several minutes, neither said anything. Then Ace turned. “Well?” Mai looked at the first pair. Then the second. “Both are lovely.” Ace sighed. “That's not helpful.” “I know.” “Which one?” Mai considered carefully. “The second.” Ace blinked. “Really?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because you've picked it up four times in the last six minutes, and every time you put it down, you look disappointed.” Ace stared at her. Then began to smile. “Oh.” Mai smiled back. “You already knew which pair you wanted.” “Maybe.” “You just wanted me to agree.” “Maybe.” Mai rose and crossed the room. She stopped in front of Ace. “Darling.” “Yes?” “You could wear either pair and look magnificent.” Ace smiled. “Flattery.” “Observation.” “And you?” “What about me?” “What are you wearing?” Mai's smile changed. “Something suitable.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “That's evasive.” “Yes.” “Mai.” “Ace.” “You're keeping secrets.” “Occasionally.” Ace considered that. Then grinned. “Oh, this evening is going to be fun.” Mai wrapped her arms around her. “I intend to make sure it is.” Ace kissed her. Warmly. Without hurry. When they separated, she rested her forehead against Mai's. “Love you.” “Love you too.” Ace's smile softened. Then returned to its usual dangerous brightness. “Right.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Shoes settled.” “Excellent.” “Now we find out whether Rogue survives her own party.” Mai laughed. “Darling, Rogue has survived Night City for decades.” “Exactly.” Ace grinned. “It's about time she faced a proper challenge.” --- At the Afterlife, Rogue received a final confirmation from the party venue. Everything was ready. The top floor was reserved exclusively for her guests. The reception areas, dining spaces, private rooms, and quieter corners had been prepared. The bar was stocked. Including the genuine vodka. Rogue inspected that detail one last time. Then nodded. Perfect. She opened the guest list. Eight fixers. Eight avecs. Eleven members of Madame Panam's Stable. Twenty-seven people. Enough personalities to start a war. Or an extraordinary party. Rogue smiled. She was counting on the latter. Mostly. Her holo chimed. A message from Suzie Q. **SUZIE**: Still on for tonight? Rogue laughed softly. **ROGUE**: Of course. **SUZIE**: And you're absolutely certain you want me there? Rogue's smile widened. **ROGUE**: More certain than ever. A moment passed. **SUZIE**: You're enjoying keeping this quiet, aren't you? **ROGUE**: Immensely. Suzie's reply arrived almost immediately. **SUZIE**: You wicked old bitch. ❤️ Rogue laughed aloud. She poured herself a small whiskey. Not vodka. Not yet. That could wait until tonight. Then she looked out over Night City. Eight fixers. Eleven women. And one hell of a surprise. “Oh,” Rogue murmured. “This is going to be good.” --- ## Chapter 10 — The People Behind the Reputations Rogue Amendiares had spent enough years in Night City to know that throwing money at a party was easy. Throwing a good party was considerably harder. Money could buy the top floor of a corporate tower for an evening. It could buy food that hadn't been assembled from something vaguely adjacent to food, alcohol that didn't taste like industrial disinfectant, and furniture designed by someone who had apparently heard of the human spine. It could not buy interesting company. Nor could it make interesting people behave like themselves. For that, you had to get the invitations right. And perhaps, Rogue thought, arrange things so that nobody quite knew what was coming. She stood near the windows of the rented top floor, looking down over Corpo Plaza. Night City was beginning to light up beneath her. Even from this height, the city looked restless. Traffic streamed between towers, advertisements pulsed across enormous surfaces, and countless windows revealed lives being lived behind glass. Somewhere out there, eleven women were preparing for a party. Rogue smiled. She could hardly wait. “Ms. Amendiares?” She turned. The evening's bar manager was waiting beside the counter. “Everything is ready.” “Everything?” “Yes.” “Food?” “Prepared.” “Music?” “Final checks complete.” “Private rooms?” “Ready, stocked with refreshments, and accessible only to guests.” “Security?” “Confirmed.” Rogue nodded. “And the vodka?” The man smiled. “Chilled exactly as requested.” “Show me.” He reached beneath the bar and produced a bottle. Rogue accepted it, examined the label, and turned it slowly in her hand. Real vodka. Not a synthetic recreation. Not an almost-convincing approximation. The genuine article. Getting it had been expensive, annoying, and sufficiently complicated that she had briefly considered sending somebody to personally argue with several international shipping authorities. Fortunately, money and persistence had eventually achieved what diplomacy could not. She handed it back. “Good. Don't put it on display like a fucking museum exhibit. It's here to be drunk.” “Understood.” “And no speeches about how rare it is.” He nodded. “Of course.” Rogue considered. “Unless somebody asks.” “Then?” “Tell them.” The man smiled. “Understood.” She dismissed him with a nod. Then checked her holo. One new message. **SUZY**: Elevator. Don't you dare start without me. Rogue laughed. **ROGUE**: Wouldn't dream of it. **SUZY**: Liar. **ROGUE**: Get upstairs. **SUZY**: Bossy bitch. Rogue put the holo away. A moment later, the elevator chimed. And Suzy Q arrived. Rogue had expected Suzy to look magnificent. She hadn't expected to forget what she was about to say. Suzy stepped out of the elevator with the effortless confidence of a woman who had spent years watching people attempt to impress her and had long since learned to recognize the difference between genuine style and expensive desperation. Her dress was dark, beautifully fitted, and daring enough to make the venue's understated corporate architecture look positively timid. She wore it like she owned the building. Rogue found that deeply entertaining. Suzy looked her up and down. “Well, fuck me.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “That's an interesting greeting.” “I was commenting on your appearance.” “Were you?” “Among other possibilities.” Rogue laughed. Suzy approached, slipped both arms around her shoulders, and kissed her. Not briefly. Not as an obligatory social greeting. It was a familiar kiss between women who liked each other very much and saw no reason to disguise the fact. When they separated, Rogue was smiling. “Hello, Suzy.” “Hello, trouble.” “You look beautiful.” “I know.” “Modest as ever.” “Learned from you.” Rogue offered her an arm. Suzy took it. Then looked around. The panoramic windows caught her attention first. Then the carefully arranged seating areas. The long bar. The dining space. The open floor where music was already playing softly. And the discreet corridor beyond. Suzy glanced at Rogue. “Oh, you've thought of everything.” “I try.” “Private rooms?” “Yes.” “How many?” “Enough.” Suzy grinned. “You optimistic old bitch.” “Experienced.” “Same difference.” Rogue led her toward the bar. Suzy noticed the bottles. She stopped. Looked again. Then leaned closer. “Rogue.” “Yes?” “What's that?” Rogue followed her gaze. “Vodka.” “Don't give me that shit.” Rogue smiled. Suzy turned toward her. “Is that real vodka?” “Yes.” Suzy stared. Then she laughed. Not politely. Not quietly. A full, delighted laugh that echoed through the nearly empty room. “Oh, you magnificent, ridiculous woman.” Rogue looked pleased. “Thought you might appreciate it.” “Appreciate it? Do you know how long it's been since I had the real thing?” “That's why I got it.” Suzy's expression softened for a moment. Then she kissed Rogue again. “You're trying to spoil me.” “Is it working?” “Disgracefully well.” The bartender poured Suzy a small measure. She tasted it. Paused. Closed her eyes. Then exhaled. “Oh, fuck.” Rogue laughed. “That good?” “Better.” Suzy looked at the glass as though it contained a particularly fond memory. Then she lifted it. “To you.” Rogue touched her whiskey against it. “To tonight.” They drank. And Suzy glanced toward the elevators. “So. When do the victims arrive?” Rogue smiled. “Our guests, Suzy.” “Of course.” “Eight fixers and their avecs.” “And eleven women who are going to teach them several things they didn't know they needed to learn.” Rogue laughed. “You sound confident.” Suzy turned. “Rogue, darling. I've known those women for years.” “I know.” “I've seen them at their sweetest, their wildest, their most ridiculous, and their most unexpectedly thoughtful.” “And?” “And you've invited a group of people who are accustomed to controlling every room they enter.” Rogue's smile widened. “Yes.” Suzy took another sip. “Oh, this is going to be beautiful.” --- Regina Jones was the first to arrive. Rogue recognized her before she'd fully cleared the elevator. Regina moved with the familiar economy of someone who'd spent years looking at rooms as collections of possibilities and problems. Nothing theatrical about it. She simply noticed things. The security personnel. The exits. The bar. Suzy. That last one stopped her. For half a second, Regina's eyebrows rose. Then she smiled. “Oh, Rogue.” Rogue opened her arms. “Regina.” They embraced. Regina stepped back. “I should have known you'd do something interesting.” “We've barely started.” “Exactly.” She turned toward the man beside her. “This is Adrian. My cousin.” Adrian offered his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Rogue shook it. “Welcome.” He was a little younger than Regina, with an easy smile and the relaxed manner of somebody who didn't believe every introduction required a performance. He looked around. “Quite a place.” “Glad you approve.” “I assume Regina's already identified every exit.” Regina gave him a look. Adrian grinned. “What?” “You promised.” “I promised not to tell embarrassing childhood stories.” Rogue's interest sharpened immediately. “Oh?” “Adrian.” “What? That wasn't one.” Suzy laughed. “I'm beginning to like him.” Regina looked toward the ceiling. “Wonderful. I've been here thirty seconds.” Adrian turned to Suzy. “You must be Rogue's guest.” “Suzy Q.” He blinked. Recognition arrived. “Lizzie's?” “The very same.” He smiled. “Well. This evening just became more interesting.” Regina shook her head. “That seems to be a recurring theme.” Rogue offered them drinks. Adrian accepted. Regina looked at Suzy again. Then at Rogue. And smiled knowingly. “I'm impressed.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “By the venue?” “By your choice of company.” Suzy lifted her glass. “Smart woman.” Rogue laughed. “Don't encourage her.” “Too late,” Regina said. --- Dino Dinovic arrived with laughter already following him out of the elevator. He was in the middle of telling his companion a story. “—and I told him, if the generator is already on fire, asking whether it's under warranty is probably missing the point.” The man beside him laughed. Dino turned. Saw Rogue. And spread his arms. “ROGUE!” “Dino.” “Look at this fucking place!” He approached, embraced her enthusiastically, and stepped back to survey the room. “You rented the whole floor?” “Yes.” “Jesus.” “Something wrong?” “Only that now my next birthday is going to look embarrassing.” Rogue smiled. “Good.” He laughed. Then gestured toward his companion. “Tomas. Old friend. Occasionally my conscience.” Tomas offered his hand. “Only occasionally because he rarely listens.” Rogue shook it. “An unenviable job.” “You have no idea.” Dino grinned. “I listen.” Tomas looked at him. “Name one occasion.” Dino considered. A pause. “Last Tuesday.” “What happened last Tuesday?” “You told me to order dinner.” “And?” “I ordered dinner.” Tomas turned to Rogue. “See? Miracles do happen.” Suzy laughed. Dino noticed her. Stopped. Then stared. “Holy shit.” Suzy smiled. “Hello, Dino.” He looked at Rogue. Then at Suzy. Then back. “That's your avec?” Rogue gave him an innocent look. “Is there a problem?” “A problem?” Dino threw back his head and laughed. “Rogue, you're an absolute fucking legend.” Suzy curtsied slightly. “Good evening to you too.” Dino caught her in a warm embrace. “Great to see you.” “You too.” He stepped back. Then frowned toward the bar. “Wait.” Rogue followed his gaze. Dino stared at the vodka bottle. Then looked at Rogue. “No.” Rogue smiled. Dino pointed. “No fucking way.” Suzy began laughing again. Tomas looked confused. “What?” Dino turned to him. “That is either the most convincing fake I've ever seen or Rogue has just become my favorite person in Night City.” Tomas examined the bottle. “Is that real?” Rogue sighed theatrically. “Yes.” Dino looked positively ecstatic. “Oh, this is going to be a night.” --- Muamar Reyes entered fifteen minutes later with a broad smile and his arm comfortably linked with that of a man whose relaxed posture suggested he was very accustomed to Muamar's enthusiasm. “Rogue!” “Capitán.” Muamar embraced her. “Beautiful place.” “Thank you.” “An excellent choice.” “I thought so.” He turned. “Rafael. A very old friend.” Rafael smiled. “Not quite as old as he makes me sound.” Muamar waved a hand. “Experienced. Distinguished.” “Chronically patient,” Rafael corrected. Rogue laughed. “Then you've had plenty of practice.” “More than I expected when we met.” Muamar looked offended. “I am excellent company.” “Absolutely.” “You see?” Rafael smiled. “I didn't say you were quiet company.” Suzy laughed. Muamar turned. Then recognized her. His grin widened. “Suzy Q!” “Captain.” He took her hands. “Now there's a surprise.” “Good one?” “Excellent.” He glanced at Rogue. “Is there something you're not telling us?” “Several things.” Muamar laughed. “At least you're admitting it.” Rafael looked interested. “Should I be concerned?” Suzy considered. “Only if you dislike having fun.” “Then I believe I'm safe.” “Good answer.” Muamar looked around. “Where's the music coming from?” Rogue gestured toward the sound system. “Automated for now.” “Room for dancing?” “Plenty.” “Food?” “Coming.” “Drinks?” Suzy pointed at the bar. Muamar followed her gesture. Saw the vodka. Stopped. And looked at Rogue. “Oh, my God.” Rogue closed her eyes. “Not you too.” Muamar turned to Rafael. “My friend, I believe we have entered paradise.” Rafael examined the bottle. Then shook his head. “You've clearly been underestimating Rogue.” “Never again.” --- Wakako Okada did not announce her arrival. She had never needed to. When the elevator doors opened, she stepped out with the composed dignity of someone who understood that true authority had nothing to do with volume. She wore beautiful, restrained evening clothes and carried herself as though the room had already agreed to accommodate her. The man beside her was enormous. Rogue had seen large men before. Night City produced them in quantities that occasionally suggested some corporation was manufacturing them wholesale. This one was different. His size was remarkable, yes, but so was the complete absence of any need to advertise it. He moved carefully. Not cautiously. Carefully. As though he understood exactly how much space he occupied and had no intention of making it somebody else's problem. Rogue approached. “Wakako.” “Rogue.” They exchanged a warm greeting. Wakako looked around. “You've done well.” “Thank you.” “The location is excellent.” “Glad you approve.” “And discreet.” “Very.” Wakako nodded. Then gestured to her companion. “My nephew, Daichi.” Daichi inclined his head. “Ms. Amendiares.” Rogue looked up at him. And up. “Christ.” His mouth twitched. Rogue smiled. “Sorry. Couldn't help it.” “Most people can't.” Wakako's expression remained perfectly composed. “He's used to it.” “I imagine.” Daichi offered his hand. Rogue took it. His grip was firm but carefully measured. A large man who knew his own strength. She liked that immediately. “Welcome, Daichi.” “Thank you.” Wakako looked toward the windows. “Beautiful view.” “Come and see it properly.” Rogue led them toward the glass. Daichi stopped a respectful distance from the edge. Wakako noticed. “Afraid of heights?” “No.” “Then?” “I'm wondering what the view would look like from the street if somebody decided to build a tower with a little more taste.” Rogue laughed. “Oh, I like him.” Wakako smiled faintly. “He has his moments.” Daichi looked at her. “Auntie.” “What?” “You asked.” Rogue laughed again. Then Wakako noticed Suzy. Her expression changed only slightly. But Rogue saw it. “Suzy Q.” Suzy approached. “Wakako.” They greeted each other politely. Wakako looked at Rogue. “Your companion?” “Yes.” “How interesting.” Suzy smiled. “Everybody keeps saying that.” “Perhaps,” Wakako replied, “because Rogue has arranged something worth being interested in.” Rogue inclined her head. “High praise.” “Enjoy it while it lasts.” Rogue laughed. Wakako allowed herself the smallest smile. --- Dakota Smith arrived without hurry. She stepped out of the elevator beside Saskia, a woman whose easy confidence and open expression made her immediately pleasant company. Dakota surveyed the room. Her eyes moved over the windows, the seating areas, the guests already talking together. Then she nodded. “Good.” Rogue approached. “Dakota.” “Rogue.” They embraced briefly. Dakota stepped back. “A fine place.” “Thank you.” “And comfortable.” “That was intentional.” Dakota smiled. “This is Saskia. A good friend.” Saskia offered her hand. “Lovely to meet you.” “Likewise.” She looked around. “Dakota warned me that a room full of fixers could be intimidating.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Did she?” “Very politely.” Dakota shook her head. “I told her the room would be full of people accustomed to getting their way.” “Which,” Saskia said, “sounds like a group in desperate need of somebody telling them no.” Rogue laughed. “Oh, you're going to fit right in.” Saskia smiled. “That was my hope.” Dakota's eyes moved toward the bar. She noticed Muamar laughing with Dino. Regina talking with Tomas. Wakako standing near the windows. Padre hadn't arrived yet. Her expression grew thoughtful. “You've invited an interesting collection.” “That's the idea.” “Some of these people haven't shared a room socially in years.” “Possibly.” “And tonight they will.” “Yes.” Dakota looked at Rogue. Then smiled. “You're up to something.” Rogue put a hand over her heart. “I'm wounded.” “No, you're not.” “No.” Dakota laughed. Saskia watched them with amusement. “Should I ask?” “No,” Dakota said. “Yes,” Rogue said. They looked at one another. Then both laughed. Saskia shook her head. “Good. I was worried I'd have to be the sensible one.” Rogue offered her an arm. “Come. Let me show you the bar.” --- Wade Bleecker arrived looking like a man who could attend a diplomatic reception, negotiate a particularly unpleasant contract, and order dinner without changing his expression. Rogue greeted him with genuine warmth. “Wade.” “Rogue.” They shook hands. He looked around. “Excellent venue.” “Thank you.” “Private enough for the company.” “I certainly hope so.” The woman beside him rolled her eyes. “Oh, Wade, please don't start discussing security before we've had a drink.” Rogue turned toward her. The woman smiled. “Evelyn.” “Rogue.” They shook hands. “Wade's cousin,” Evelyn added. “And, apparently, his designated social rehabilitation officer.” Rogue laughed. Wade sighed. “Evelyn.” “What?” “We discussed this.” “We discussed not telling embarrassing stories.” “Precisely.” “I haven't told any.” “You're preparing to.” “Only because you keep looking worried.” Rogue looked delighted. “I should have invited you years ago.” Evelyn grinned. “You probably should have.” Wade shook his head. “My cousin has a talent for making an evening unnecessarily complicated.” “Only when the company deserves it.” Rogue laughed. Then Suzy approached. “Mr. Hands.” He turned. For the first time since arriving, his composure shifted visibly. “Suzy Q.” She smiled. “In person.” “Indeed.” He glanced toward Rogue. “An inspired choice.” Rogue smiled. “Thank you.” Evelyn looked between them. “Have you met?” “Professionally,” Wade answered. Suzy laughed softly. “Night City is a small town when you're in the right businesses.” Evelyn considered that. Then smiled. “Now that sounds considerably more interesting than Wade's description of the evening.” Wade sighed. “Must every conversation become an examination of my shortcomings?” “Of course not,” Evelyn answered. “Thank you.” “We haven't even had dinner.” Suzy laughed. Rogue closed her eyes briefly. Oh, she liked this woman. --- Padre was the last of the eight fixers to arrive. Rogue saw him step from the elevator with a male companion beside him. Sebastian Ibarra wore his years comfortably. He had the warm gravity of a man who had seen too much of the world to mistake cynicism for wisdom, and whose reputation carried a degree of affection unusual among Night City's fixers. He approached with a smile. “Rogue.” “Padre.” They embraced warmly. “Thank you for inviting me.” “My pleasure.” He looked around. “A beautiful evening.” “We haven't started yet.” “Then a promising beginning.” He turned toward his companion. “Gabriel. A friend of many years.” Gabriel offered his hand. “Thank you for having me.” “Welcome.” Gabriel was plainly comfortable in his own skin. There was a quiet humor in his expression, the kind that suggested he preferred listening before speaking but had usually been paying more attention than anyone realized. He looked around. “Quite a gathering.” Padre nodded. “And I believe we're only halfway to the full company.” Rogue smiled. “Not quite halfway. Sixteen of twenty-seven.” Gabriel considered that. “Then this may become very interesting indeed.” Suzy approached. “Padre!” He turned. His face warmed. “Suzy.” They embraced. “Good to see you.” “And you, my dear.” He stepped back and looked at her. Then at Rogue. Then back again. For a moment, he said nothing. Finally, he chuckled. “Ah.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Ah?” “I begin to understand the shape of this evening.” Suzy laughed. “Oh, Padre. You haven't seen anything yet.” “Then I shall look forward to being surprised.” Rogue smiled. “Good attitude.” Padre glanced toward the bar. “May I ask whether you have whiskey?” Rogue laughed. “Sebastian, I would never invite you without whiskey.” “Then you continue to demonstrate excellent judgment.” They walked together. At the counter, the bartender prepared Padre's drink. Gabriel studied the selection. Then noticed the vodka. He blinked. Looked again. Then turned toward Rogue. “May I ask a question?” “Of course.” “Is that real?” Rogue sighed. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Padre followed Gabriel's gaze. Stopped. And looked at the bottle. Then at Rogue. “Is it?” “Yes.” Padre stared. Then started laughing. Not loudly. But with unmistakable delight. “Rogue.” “What?” “You've gone to extraordinary trouble.” “I know.” “For vodka.” “For good vodka.” “A distinction I appreciate.” Suzy lifted her glass. “Finally, a man of culture.” Padre laughed. “I have been called worse.” Gabriel considered his whiskey. Then looked at the vodka again. “Would it be rude to change my order?” Rogue grinned. “Not remotely.” --- For the next half hour, Rogue did very little hosting. This was deliberate. Sixteen people didn't need constant supervision, particularly when most of them were professionally skilled at conversation. But it was fascinating to watch how quickly their usual roles began to loosen. Dino was telling a story to Gabriel and Tomas, punctuating it with gestures large enough to make nearby guests instinctively protect their drinks. Regina had joined Dakota near the windows. They were discussing something quietly, occasionally interrupted by Adrian, who seemed to have discovered that both women enjoyed correcting one another's assessments of Night City. Wakako was seated comfortably with Padre. Daichi stood nearby, speaking with Rafael. Muamar had become involved in a spirited argument with Evelyn about the relative merits of several transportation systems. Wade listened. For several minutes. Then made one precise observation. Muamar stopped talking. Evelyn stared at her cousin. “Oh, finally.” Wade looked at her. “What?” “You've joined the conversation.” “I was already in it.” “Your face wasn't.” Rogue heard that from halfway across the room. She laughed into her whiskey. Suzy appeared beside her. “You're enjoying this.” “Very much.” “You've got Regina laughing at Adrian, Dino attempting to explain how he once accidentally started a fight with a jukebox, and Wakako discussing art with Padre.” “Mm.” “And Hands is being bullied by his cousin.” Rogue smiled. “Best part so far.” Suzy laughed. Then looked around more thoughtfully. “You know what I like?” “What?” “Nobody's trying particularly hard to impress anybody.” Rogue nodded. “That was the plan.” “It helps that most of them already know one another.” “And the ones who don't?” “They're discovering interesting things.” Rogue looked toward Gabriel. He had managed to extricate himself from Dino's story and was now speaking with Saskia. They were both laughing. Rogue smiled. “Exactly.” Suzy looked toward the elevators. “And the others?” “Coming.” “All eleven?” “Yes.” Suzy considered that. Then laughed softly. “Oh, Rogue.” “What?” “You really have no idea what you've set loose.” Rogue turned. “That's an interesting thing to say to someone who helped build this invitation list.” “I know exactly whom you invited.” “So do I.” Suzy's smile became knowing. “Do you know what happens when Mandi meets somebody who thinks her hair is the most outrageous thing about her?” Rogue laughed. “Usually something educational.” “And Nova and Vega?” “Trouble.” “Different varieties of trouble,” Suzy corrected. Rogue nodded. “Fair.” “And Anna?” Rogue looked at her. Suzy's expression softened slightly. “Now she's going to be interesting.” “Why?” “Because people look at some of the others and immediately understand that they're being invited to play.” “And Anna?” Suzy smiled. “Anna's going to make them wonder what they're missing.” Rogue considered that. Then smiled. “Good.” The music shifted. Not dramatically. Just enough to make the room feel less like a reception and more like the beginning of a proper evening. Dino immediately noticed. He looked toward the open floor. “Oh, now that's better.” Tomas sighed. “Don't.” “What?” “We haven't eaten yet.” “We can dance before dinner.” “You can injure yourself before dinner.” Dino laughed. Then caught Suzy's eye. “Dance?” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me or announcing an intention?” “Asking.” She looked at Rogue. Rogue waved one hand. “Go.” Suzy smiled. Then took Dino's hand. “Come on.” He led her onto the floor. Tomas watched. Then looked toward Gabriel. “Should I be worried?” Gabriel considered. “About Dino?” “Yes.” “Probably.” They laughed. Across the room, Wakako was watching the same scene. She turned toward Rogue as the fixer approached. “You've arranged dancing.” “Of course.” “Good.” Rogue smiled. “Planning to participate?” “Perhaps.” “Anyone in particular?” Wakako considered. Then glanced toward Padre. Rogue followed her gaze. “Oh.” Wakako's smile was almost imperceptible. “He dances well.” “Does he?” “Better than he admits.” Rogue laughed. “I'll remember that.” Wakako looked toward the elevators. “The Stable hasn't arrived yet.” “No.” “Curious.” “About the delay?” “About them.” Rogue's expression sharpened with interest. “Oh?” Wakako took a thoughtful sip. “Eleven women. Some already well known in certain circles. Others rather less so. And you considered the entire group worth inviting.” “Yes.” “That suggests you see something unusual in them.” “I do.” Wakako studied her. “Then why invite us?” Rogue smiled. “Because you're interesting too.” Wakako waited. Rogue laughed. “Oh, don't look at me like that. That's part of it.” “And the rest?” Rogue considered the question. Then answered more seriously. “Because I'm tired of watching good people meet only when they want something from each other.” Wakako's expression changed. Not dramatically. But she looked at Rogue with new attention. “Ah.” “Business is business. Everybody in this room knows that.” “Yes.” “But tonight nobody needs a contract, a favor, or an introduction to someone who can make their next problem disappear.” Wakako nodded slowly. Rogue looked toward the room. “I want to see what happens when they meet because they actually want to be here.” Wakako considered that. Then smiled. “A surprisingly sentimental motivation.” Rogue laughed. “Don't spread it around.” “Your secret is safe with me.” They stood together for a moment. Then Wakako added, “And perhaps you are curious whether anyone here can still be surprised.” Rogue turned toward her. Wakako smiled. Rogue laughed. “Perhaps.” --- Near the bar, Suzy returned from dancing with Dino, looking thoroughly entertained. She accepted the water Rogue offered her. “Thank you.” “Survive?” “Barely.” “Dino?” “Still alive.” “Good.” Suzy took a drink. Then looked at Rogue. “You know, there's another reason tonight works.” “Oh?” “Everybody brought someone they actually wanted here.” Rogue glanced around. Regina's cousin. Dino's friend. Muamar's companion. Wakako's nephew. Dakota's friend. Wade's cousin. Padre's friend. Suzy herself. None of them were decorative additions to the guest list. They had histories with the people who'd brought them, their own opinions, their own senses of humor, and their own reasons for being curious about this evening. Rogue smiled. “Yes.” Suzy slipped an arm around her waist. “Smart girl.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Girl?” “You heard me.” “I could have you thrown out.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “You could try.” Rogue laughed. Then her holo chimed. A notification from the venue's reception security. GUEST ARRIVAL CONFIRMED. SIX. Rogue looked down. And smiled. Suzy noticed immediately. “What?” Rogue turned the display. Suzy read it. Then slowly began to grin. “Oh.” “Yes.” “The first six?” “Yes.” Suzy set down her water. “Well, fuck.” Rogue laughed. “What?” “I think I'd like to be standing beside you for this.” “Why?” Suzy gave her an affectionate look. “Because I want to see your face when the others see them.” Rogue smiled. “Come on, then.” They crossed toward the elevator together. Behind them, conversations continued. Dino was laughing again. Regina had apparently persuaded Adrian to tell a story he'd been trying to avoid. Wade was listening intently to something Saskia had said. Daichi stood beside Wakako, looking comfortably amused by the entire gathering. Padre had raised his glass to Gabriel. Sixteen people. A very pleasant evening. Then the elevator indicator changed. The doors slid apart. And Rogue, watching the faces of her guests, knew immediately that the evening had just entered an entirely different category. Because the first thing anyone saw wasn't a dress. It wasn't a pair of expensive shoes. It wasn't even the confident petite woman standing at the front of the arriving group. It was the explosion of neon-orange hair above her face. Dino stopped in the middle of a sentence. Adrian turned. Daichi raised his eyebrows. Regina smiled. And Mandi, who had noticed every single reaction, looked out into the room with positively wicked delight. “Well, well.” Beside her, Dalia was already laughing. Mandi spread her arms. “Anybody miss us?” Suzy leaned toward Rogue. And whispered, with unmistakable satisfaction: “Now your party starts.” --- ## Chapter 11 — A Certain Lack of Subtlety Dino Dinovic had seen plenty of strange things in Night City. He'd seen corporate executives show up at the Afterlife in armored evening wear because somebody had told them it was fashionable. He'd seen a mercenary bring a live iguana to a business meeting. And once, memorably, he'd watched a man attempt to negotiate a discount on a funeral while standing beside the body. But he had never seen quite that shade of orange. “Holy fuck,” he said. Tomas followed his gaze. At the elevator stood a petite woman whose hair appeared to have been illuminated from within by a particularly enthusiastic neon sign. Neon-orange. Not copper. Not red. Not anything nature had ever intended. The color was an outright act of defiance against the comparatively tasteful lighting Rogue had arranged. And beneath it, the woman was smiling. Not nervously. Not self-consciously. She looked as though she'd spent a considerable amount of time anticipating the effect of her entrance and was now delighted to discover that reality had exceeded expectations. Dino's eyes moved downward. Black eyes. No visible iris, no familiar hint of color to soften the impression. A discreet collar at her throat. An expensive outfit that followed her compact frame without making the slightest apology for it. And shoes. Good God, the shoes. He glanced at Tomas. “Tell me you're seeing this.” Tomas smiled. “I'm seeing it.” “Those fucking shoes.” “I'm more concerned about the hair.” “That's because you lack priorities.” Before Tomas could answer, the woman raised both arms. “Anybody miss us?” Rogue started laughing. Suzy Q closed her eyes, visibly delighted. And the woman beside the orange-haired arrival removed a lollipop from her mouth. “Darling, we're going to be barred before we've been offered a drink.” Her voice was lower than Dino expected, with a rough, smoky warmth that made the dry delivery considerably more entertaining. Tomas looked at her. Then looked again. “Oh.” Dino understood. The second woman was almost as visually outrageous as the first. Her dreadlocks was an impossible, screaming pink, vivid enough to compete with the orange beside her without resembling it in the slightest. Her emerald-green eyes caught the room's light and returned it with an unusual reflective intensity. Thigh-high boots completed an outfit that was rather more controlled than her companion's but no less deliberate. The menthol lollipop returned to her mouth. And the expression above it suggested that while the orange-haired woman intended to have fun, the pink-haired woman intended to have fun and remember every detail afterward. Dino smiled slowly. “Jesus Christ.” Tomas nodded. “Now I understand why Rogue was grinning.” Regina Jones noticed something different. The hair was impossible to miss, obviously. So were the black eyes and the brilliant pink. --- But Regina had spent too much of her life interviewing people to mistake appearance for the whole story. She watched the orange-haired woman register the room. One glance at Rogue. Another at Suzy. Then a quick sweep across the assembled guests. Interested. Alert. Enjoying herself. The woman beside her did the same thing, but differently. She took her time. And for an instant Regina had the distinct impression that the pink-haired woman was making a series of quiet decisions about what she saw. Then both women laughed at something, and the impression vanished into the general spectacle of their arrival. Regina smiled. Well. Aren't you two interesting. Then the third and fourth women stepped into view. And even Dino fell silent. Their hair was the first thing that made them look like a pair. Not because it matched. Because the two designs answered one another. One woman wore chrome and gold, the metallic colors catching the warm light as she turned her head. The other wore chrome and brass-yellow. There was an unmistakable relationship between the looks, but nothing about them suggested that the women were supposed to be copies. Then Regina saw their eyes. She stopped smiling. Not from alarm. From astonishment. The gold-accented woman's eyes were white. Entirely white. No ordinary iris. No conventional pupil. White voids looking out through an otherwise expressive face. Her companion's eyes were black. Complete black voids. For a moment, Regina simply stared. The effect should have been unsettling. It was. But the women were laughing at one another, and the contrast between their impossible eyes and utterly natural expressions made the sight considerably more fascinating than frightening. The woman with black-void eyes said something. Regina couldn't hear it. The one with white-void eyes turned toward her. A beat. Then both burst out laughing. Regina caught the broad grin on the black-eyed woman's face and the amused restraint with which her companion attempted, unsuccessfully, to contain herself. “Oh, they're going to be trouble,” Adrian murmured beside her. Regina laughed. “I think you're right.” --- Behind the two women came another arrival. She had none of the visual aggression of the first four. That was immediately noticeable. She looked elegant, comfortable, and entirely at ease with being seen. Her clothing was beautifully considered, flattering without competing for attention against the more extravagant colors surrounding her. She was smiling. Not performing. Simply enjoying the moment. She glanced at the room, caught Suzy's eye, and smiled more broadly. Then she leaned toward the sixth arrival. And Regina's attention shifted again. Platinum-blonde hair. Almost luminous against the warmer tones of the room. Black lipstick. And eyes that were unmistakably human. After the startling black and white voids of the preceding pair, those ordinary eyes should have made the sixth woman less remarkable. Instead, something about the contrast made Regina look twice. The platinum-haired woman stood very still for a moment. Not uncertain. She seemed to be allowing herself the simple pleasure of seeing the room and knowing that the room was seeing her. Her dress was striking without being the most revealing outfit in the group. It didn't need to be. The woman wearing it stood with a confidence that seemed almost new enough to be precious. Then her lips curved into a smile. And Regina found herself smiling back. “Now,” she murmured, “who are you?” --- Mandi had been counting. Not the people. The reactions. Dino had practically stopped breathing. Regina was examining them with professional curiosity. Muamar was smiling. Wakako looked interested. And Rogue— Oh, Rogue looked absolutely delighted with herself. Mandi turned toward Dalia. “I think we made an impression.” Dalia slowly removed her lollipop. “Darling, I think the lighting system is considering surrender.” Mandi looked upward. “It's still working.” “For now.” “Then we're fine.” Dalia glanced toward Dino. Then toward Tomas. Then back at Mandi. “Two of them appear particularly fascinated.” Mandi followed her gaze. Her smile widened. “Oh, hello.” Dalia caught her hand before she could move. “First, our hostess.” Mandi sighed. “You're very strict.” “Occasionally.” “I like it.” “I know.” Dalia kissed her. Warmly. Without ceremony. Then released her hand just long enough to slip an arm around her waist. To anyone watching, the affection was unmistakable. They were lovers. Comfortable ones. Neither sought distance from the other merely because they might find the evening's company interesting. Mandi looked toward Rogue. “Come on, then.” They crossed the room together. Rogue met them halfway. “Mandi.” “Rogue!” Mandi threw her arms around her. Rogue laughed and caught her. “Christ, woman.” “What?” “I can barely see past your hair.” “That's a feature.” “I gathered.” Mandi kissed her cheek and stepped back. Rogue looked at Dalia. “Darling.” “Good evening, Rogue.” They embraced. Rogue took a moment to admire her. “Pink.” Dalia smiled. “Very.” “Subtle.” “Exquisitely.” Rogue laughed. Then looked between the two women. “You're going to give my guests heart attacks.” Mandi looked offended. “Before dinner? That's terrible hospitality.” “Then perhaps you'd better behave.” Dalia sighed. “She keeps saying that.” “Does she?” “Apparently she believes repetition will eventually produce results.” Rogue smiled. “Will it?” Dalia regarded Mandi. Then Rogue. “No.” Mandi looked triumphant. “See?” Rogue shook her head. And then Suzy stepped forward. Mandi saw her. Her expression changed so abruptly that several nearby guests noticed. For one second, she simply stared. Then— “OH, YOU MAGNIFICENT BITCH!” Suzy spread her arms. “Hello, trouble.” Mandi practically launched herself into the embrace. Suzy laughed, holding her tightly. “You're going to break something!” “Worth it!” “Oh, God, I've missed you.” Mandi drew back. “You're Rogue's avec?” Suzy smiled. “Yes.” Mandi turned toward Rogue. “You sneaky old bastard!” Rogue looked enormously pleased. “Thank you.” “You could have warned us!” “And miss that reaction?” Mandi considered. Then laughed. “Fair.” Dalia stepped forward. “Suzy, darling.” “Come here, gorgeous.” They embraced. Suzy kissed her cheek. Then looked at her properly. “Oh, that's a dangerous shade of pink.” Dalia smiled. “It keeps Mandi from getting all the attention.” Mandi gasped. “Impossible.” Suzy laughed. “Oh, I've missed you two.” She knew exactly who they were. She'd known from the beginning, when Mandi first came to Lizzie's. There had never been a moment when Suzy mistook Mandi's flamboyant cover for a stranger and wondered about the person beneath it. That knowledge belonged to the trust between them. It stayed there. She looked at the orange hair, the black contacts, the mischievous expression, and smiled at a woman she knew very well. “Having fun already?” Mandi nodded. “Immensely.” Suzy glanced toward Dino. “So I noticed.” Mandi followed her gaze. Then laughed. “Oh, you noticed that?” “Darling, I notice everything.” “Of course you do.” Dalia put her lollipop back into her mouth. “And occasionally,” she said, “Suzy even tells us what she's noticed.” Suzy looked at her. Then laughed again. “Christ. You're both impossible.” “Professionally,” Mandi said. By now Nova and Vega had reached Rogue. Rogue greeted them warmly. “Welcome, ladies.” Nova smiled. “Thank you, Rogue.” Vega glanced toward the windows. “Nice view.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Only nice?” Vega looked at her. “Would you prefer a dishonest compliment?” Suzy started laughing. Rogue folded her arms. “Oh, I remember you.” “Good.” “Still charming.” “Whenever necessary.” Nova laid a hand gently against Vega's back. “She's been looking forward to this.” Vega turned. “Don't ruin my reputation.” “You've been discussing the party since breakfast.” “That's not evidence.” “Brenda—” Nova stopped herself. The fraction of a syllable had barely escaped, swallowed beneath the music and the surrounding conversation. Vega's black-void eyes fixed on her. A heartbeat. Then Vega leaned closer. “Careful, sweetheart. You're about to tell everyone my embarrassing childhood nickname.” Nova's smile returned. “Wouldn't dream of it.” Suzy watched the exchange. She understood precisely what had happened. But she merely smiled. “Now, you two,” she said, “I hope you're planning to enjoy yourselves.” Vega looked scandalized. “Suzy, why the fuck else would we be here?” Rogue laughed. “Food?” “Excellent.” “Music?” “Promising.” “Drinks?” “Pending inspection.” “And the company?” Vega regarded her. Then looked around the room. Her gaze traveled past Regina, Dino, Muamar, Wakako, and the others. A wicked grin spread across her unfamiliar face. “Oh, the company looks very promising.” Nova laughed. Rogue put a hand over her heart. “Such enthusiasm.” “Don't get sentimental,” Vega warned. “Wouldn't dare.” --- Anna had been standing a little behind Bea, watching the greetings. She was accustomed to people looking at her. On Crystal Palace, people had looked because they knew her position, recognized her connections, or wanted something. Here, nobody knew that. Nobody knew the meetings, the obligations, or the hundreds of tiny social negotiations that had once seemed inseparable from simply being Imani. They saw platinum hair. Black lipstick. A beautifully made dress. And a woman called Anna. She found herself enjoying it. Bea glanced back. “All right?” Anna smiled. “Very.” “Nervous?” “A little.” “Good nervous?” “Very good.” Bea took her hand for a moment. Then squeezed. “Come on.” They approached Rogue together. Rogue's face warmed. “Bea.” “Rogue.” They embraced. Rogue stepped back and looked at her. “It's wonderful to see you.” “Likewise.” “You look magnificent.” Bea smiled. “So do you.” Rogue glanced past her. “And this must be Anna.” Anna stepped forward. “Hello, Rogue.” They shook hands. Rogue looked at her for a moment. Then smiled. “You came all the way from Crystal Palace.” “I did.” “Just for a party.” Anna considered that. Then looked at Bea. At Mandi and Dalia. At Nova and Vega. At Suzy. And finally back at Rogue. “Not just any party.” Rogue laughed softly. “Good answer.” Anna smiled. “I was rather hoping you'd approve.” “I do.” Suzy stepped closer. “Anna, sweetheart.” Anna's face lit up. “Suzy!” They embraced. Suzy drew back and examined her. There was no awkwardness in it. She had seen Anna before. She knew the woman. But something about seeing her here, among strangers with no connection to her other life, made Suzy's smile particularly warm. “Look at you.” Anna laughed. “What?” “Nothing. You're beautiful.” Anna's expression softened. “Thank you.” Suzy glanced at the platinum hair. “Lena's work?” “Yes.” “Of course.” Anna touched one pale strand. “It took some getting used to.” “I imagine.” Anna grinned. “Now I rather like it.” Suzy looked at her for a moment. Then nodded. “Good.” Bea watched them, smiling. Rogue glanced toward the rest of the room. “Well, ladies. Shall we introduce you to the others?” Mandi appeared at her elbow. “Oh, absolutely.” Dalia sighed. “There goes the evening.” “Darling,” Mandi said, “the evening hasn't even begun.” “Precisely my concern.” Dino had been waiting with the patience of a man who possessed very little patience. When Rogue finally approached with Mandi and Dalia, he straightened. Rogue smiled. “Dino, Tomas. Meet Mandi and Dalia.” Mandi offered her hand. “Gentlemen.” Dino took it. “Dino Dinovic.” “I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you?” “Rogue told us who'd be here.” “Ah.” “And I recognized you immediately.” Dino looked pleased. “Really?” “Yes.” “What gave me away?” Mandi considered. “Your hair.” Tomas burst out laughing. Dino stared. Then began laughing too. “Oh, you little shit.” Mandi looked delighted. Dalia offered Tomas her hand. “Dalia.” “Tomas.” His eyes flicked toward her pink hair. Then her reflective emerald eyes. Then the lollipop. He smiled. “I have to ask.” Dalia tilted her head. “Which part?” “The hair.” “Ah.” “Is that an actual color?” Dalia considered him. Then slowly removed the lollipop. “Apparently.” Tomas laughed. “I walked into that.” “Yes.” Dino looked at Mandi. “And yours?” “Very real.” He eyed the orange. “Has anybody ever accused you of being subtle?” “Not successfully.” Dino laughed. Then gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you something?” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked at the two men. Then smiled. “Why not?” They set off together. Mandi walked beside Dino. Dalia fell into step with Tomas. And Rogue, watching them go, recognized the beginning of exactly the kind of conversation she'd hoped tonight would produce. Not four people instantly deciding they wanted the same thing. Four people curious enough to find out. Regina had been watching Anna. Not constantly. Just enough to notice that the platinum-haired woman was drawing attention without obviously seeking it. There was something fascinating about her composure. She looked a little younger when she laughed. And considerably more assured when someone approached her. Regina crossed toward Rogue as the fixer returned from introducing Dino. “The platinum blonde.” “Anna.” “Interesting.” Rogue smiled. “You've said that about several women tonight.” “I intend to keep saying it until you stop presenting me with evidence.” Rogue laughed. Regina glanced toward Anna. “She's not what I expected.” “What did you expect?” “Someone arriving from Crystal Palace for a Night City party? A woman determined to make sure everybody knew where she'd come from.” “And?” “She seems entirely uninterested in doing that.” Rogue looked across the room. Anna was listening to something Adrian had said, her expression bright with amusement. “Perhaps,” Rogue said, “that's rather the point.” Regina considered. Then nodded slowly. “Perhaps.” --- Wade Bleecker noticed the same woman several minutes later. He was standing with Evelyn when Anna approached the bar. She looked at the selection. Then at the bartender. “Something non-synthetic, please.” The bartender smiled. “We have several options.” Anna considered. “Surprise me.” Wade turned slightly. Anna noticed. Their eyes met. She smiled. “Something wrong?” “Not at all.” “Good.” He inclined his head. “Wade Bleecker.” “Anna.” “A pleasure.” “Likewise.” Evelyn looked between them. Then smiled. “Evelyn.” “Lovely to meet you.” Anna shook her hand. Wade glanced toward the bartender, who was preparing her drink. “You've come from Crystal Palace?” “Yes.” “That's quite a distance for an evening's entertainment.” Anna accepted the glass. “Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. She smiled. “I've traveled much farther for considerably less interesting company.” Evelyn laughed. Wade's expression changed. Only a little. But Anna noticed. He looked at her more attentively. “Then I hope we justify the journey.” Anna took a sip. Considered the drink. Then looked back at him. “So do I.” Evelyn smiled. Wade glanced at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That expression is not nothing.” “I'm simply enjoying the conversation.” Anna laughed. “Then I think we're off to a promising start.” Near the windows, Wakako was observing the gathering with quiet amusement. Daichi stood beside her. He watched Mandi cross the room, orange hair bright beneath the lights. Then Dalia followed, her pink hair an equally astonishing declaration. “Colorful,” he said. Wakako smiled faintly. “Very.” He glanced toward Nova and Vega. The white and black eyes had clearly caught his attention. “Those two are remarkable.” “Yes.” “Have you met them before?” “No.” “Interesting presentation.” “Deliberate presentation,” Wakako corrected. Daichi looked at her. She continued. “People who make themselves memorable that intentionally usually have a reason.” He considered that. “Perhaps they simply enjoy it.” Wakako smiled. “An equally interesting possibility.” Then she saw Anna across the room. Her gaze lingered. “Ah.” Daichi followed it. “The blonde?” “Yes.” “She seems pleasant.” Wakako considered the word. “Perhaps.” He glanced at her. “You don't believe pleasant?” “I believe it's far too early to decide that's all she is.” Daichi smiled. “You're enjoying this.” “Very much.” --- At the opposite side of the room, Padre had found himself speaking with Bea. Their conversation began with the vodka. Naturally. “You've tried it?” she asked. Padre smiled. “I have.” “Extraordinary.” “Rogue has many talents.” “Clearly.” “And an equally remarkable ability to make them expensive.” Bea laughed. Padre studied her. “You seem happy.” “I am.” “Then I'm glad.” She considered him for a moment. “Do you always greet strangers like that?” “Like what?” “As though their happiness matters.” Padre's expression softened. “I try.” Bea smiled. “That's rather lovely.” Gabriel joined them. “Sebastian, I see you've abandoned me.” Padre laughed. “Only temporarily.” Gabriel turned to Bea. “Gabriel.” “Bea.” They shook hands. He glanced at her drink. “Vodka?” “Yes.” “Then I believe you're already making better decisions than I am.” Bea laughed. “And what are you drinking?” “Whiskey.” “An excellent decision.” “Then perhaps neither of us is doing badly.” She smiled. “Perhaps not.” Padre watched them. Then looked toward the windows. “I believe I shall investigate the view.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Now?” “Yes.” Bea's smile widened. Padre chuckled. “Enjoy your conversation.” And walked away. Gabriel watched him go. Then turned back. “He does that.” “What?” “Finds a reason to leave when he thinks two people would enjoy talking.” Bea laughed. “Does he?” “Frequently.” “How considerate.” “Very.” She studied him. Then raised her glass. “To considerate friends.” Gabriel touched his against it. “To excellent company.” --- Rogue stood beside Suzy near the edge of the reception area. For a few minutes, neither spoke. The six arrivals had changed the room. That much was undeniable. Not simply because of their appearance. Although the appearance had certainly done its work. Dino was laughing with Mandi and Dalia. Regina was speaking with Nova. Vega had already said something to Muamar that made him throw back his head and laugh. Anna was listening to Wade with an expression that suggested she was becoming genuinely interested in his answers. Bea had found Gabriel. And none of them was behaving quite as the fixers had expected. Suzy looked at Rogue. “Well?” Rogue smiled. “Well what?” “Your verdict.” “They've been here twenty minutes.” “Precisely.” Rogue looked across the room again. “I'm beginning to understand your point.” Suzy laughed. “Which one?” “That I haven't the faintest idea how tonight will unfold.” Suzy's smile softened. “Good.” Rogue turned toward her. “Good?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because if you could predict everything, you'd have invited the wrong people.” Rogue considered that. Then laughed. “Fair.” Suzy kissed her cheek. Then glanced toward the elevator. “Still five to come.” Rogue followed her gaze. “Yes.” Suzy smiled. “Oh, darling.” “What?” “You've seen the fireworks.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “And?” Suzy laughed softly. “You haven't seen the whole sky yet.” --- At the bar, Mandi had just discovered that Dino could talk almost as enthusiastically as she could. This delighted her. It also meant Dalia and Tomas were occasionally forced to interrupt before either of them forgot to breathe. “So you're telling me,” Dino said, “that the hair is deliberate?” Mandi stared at him. “No, Dino. I was attacked by an industrial paint mixer.” Tomas nearly spat out his drink. Dino laughed. “All right, all right!” “Of course it's deliberate.” “Why orange?” Mandi considered. Then smiled. “Because it makes people look.” Dino nodded. “That it does.” “And once they're looking—” She leaned a little closer. “—I get to decide what they discover.” For a moment, Dino stopped laughing. He looked at her. Really looked. And saw something beyond the hair. Beyond the shoes. Beyond the flamboyant manner. A woman who was perfectly aware of the effect she had on people. And who hadn't revealed nearly as much about herself as he'd initially assumed. His smile changed. “Now that's interesting.” Mandi returned the smile. “Isn't it?” Dalia watched from beside Tomas. Then slowly returned her menthol lollipop to her mouth. A small, deeply satisfied smile appeared around it. Tomas noticed. “What?” Dalia glanced toward Mandi. Then back at him. “Nothing.” “That looked like something.” She considered him. Then leaned closer. “Darling, if I've learned anything about Mandi, it's that the most dangerous moment is when somebody realizes she isn't nearly as simple as she looks.” Tomas glanced toward his friend. Dino was still smiling at Mandi. Their conversation had continued. The orange-haired woman said something. Dino laughed. Then answered more seriously. Mandi listened. Really listened. Tomas looked back at Dalia. “And you?” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Me?” “Are you as complicated as you look?” She regarded him for a long moment. Then smiled. “Much worse.” Tomas laughed. Dalia laughed with him. And across the room, Rogue Amendiares watched two conversations become something that might actually be worth remembering. Then the elevator chimed again. Five more women were on their way up. And the evening, already promising, had barely begun. --- ## Chapter 12 — The Rest of the Sky Daichi had been watching the elevators. Not because he was impatient. He was enjoying himself considerably more than he'd expected, and Wakako had already informed him that his habit of observing every arrival before deciding whether to approach was entirely too obvious. But there was something about the first six women that interested him. He'd noticed the orange hair first. That would have been difficult to avoid. Then the pink dreadlocks, the metallic hair of the Marlow duo, and their extraordinary eyes. The ice-blue-haired woman had appeared almost restrained by comparison, although Daichi suspected that was an impression she encouraged deliberately. And finally the platinum blonde, whose black lipstick and quiet confidence had drawn more than one curious glance. Six women. Six entirely different impressions. He was beginning to understand why Rogue had looked so pleased with herself. The elevator chimed again. Wakako glanced toward it. “Ah.” Daichi followed her gaze. The doors opened. And the first woman stepped out. Daichi stopped breathing for approximately half a second. Not because she was wearing anything particularly outrageous. Because she looked directly at the room with the kind of confidence he had learned to recognize among people who could command a great deal without raising their voices. She was beautiful, certainly. But there was something more substantial about her. Her posture. The way she surveyed the gathering. The slight impatience in her expression, as though she had already decided that standing around waiting for somebody to tell her what to do would be a waste of a perfectly good evening. Then the woman beside her said something. She turned. And laughed. The change was remarkable. All that commanding presence, and suddenly there was warmth enough to make Daichi wonder whether he'd misread her entirely. He hadn't. He was simply beginning to realize there was more to read. Panam stopped just beyond the elevator. Birgitta stood beside her, holding her hand. “Nice place,” Birgitta murmured. Panam surveyed the enormous windows. “Rogue doesn't do things halfway.” “Apparently not.” “Look at that view.” Birgitta looked. Then glanced at Panam. “Are you admiring the view or calculating how much the tower costs?” “Both.” Birgitta laughed. Panam squeezed her hand. “Behave.” “Yes, Owner.” The words were soft enough not to carry beyond the two of them. Panam smiled. Birgitta was dressed beautifully, her muted copper-grey hair arranged to frame the warm, expressive face that had become so familiar to Panam. Her eyes were very light brown. In the shifting light, they appeared almost golden for a moment. Panam liked them. She liked the way they brightened when Birgitta laughed. She liked the way Birgitta looked at her when nobody else was paying attention. And after the unexpected gift of Friday night together, she was finding it particularly difficult not to reach over and kiss her every few minutes. Fortunately, she had no intention of trying very hard. She caught Birgitta's chin lightly and kissed her. Birgitta smiled against her mouth. When they separated, she whispered, “Again?” Panam laughed. “You greedy girl.” “Terribly.” “Later.” Birgitta looked scandalized. “Owner.” Panam leaned close. “Unless you'd prefer we never reach the party.” Birgitta considered. Then smiled. “Oh, that's an interesting alternative.” Panam laughed and took her hand again. “Come on, trouble.” The woman who emerged behind them might have escaped immediate notice if the lighting had been a little poorer. Her hair was a dark, venomous green. Not the bright green of cheap fashion dye. Something deeper. In shadow it came close to black, but wherever the light caught it properly, the green revealed itself with unsettling richness. She wore ivory. Not stark white. Warm, expensive ivory, beautifully chosen to complement the softness of her face and the brown-amber of her eyes. An ivory collar with dark hardware rested at her throat. Daichi watched her pause at the elevator. She looked almost gentle. Approachable. There was something sweet about her expression. Then she glanced at Panam. “Are we going to stand here all night, or do I need to start charging admission?” Panam turned. “Oh, fuck off, Deja.” Deja smiled sweetly. “See? That's much better.” Birgitta burst out laughing. Daichi's eyebrows rose. Wakako noticed. “Interesting?” she asked. He smiled. “Very.” Wakako watched Deja for another moment. “Appearances,” she murmured, “are such unreliable witnesses.” Then the last two women appeared. And Daichi forgot about the green hair. For an instant, it seemed as though somebody had placed a sculpture in the elevator. The taller woman wore white. Not merely a white dress. The garment was architectural, arranged in shapes and lines that seemed to belong as much to a gallery as to a human body. She had silver-white hair. Long. Unmistakable. And eyes of brilliant electric blue. The most peculiar thing was the hair. A few fine strands moved near her shoulders, although Daichi could see no air movement. He blinked. The strands settled. The woman was looking at something on the ceiling. Then her companion touched her arm. She turned. Smiled. And suddenly the strange, almost unearthly impression gave way to something disarmingly human. Affection. Delight. A shared joke Daichi couldn't hear. The other woman was striking in a completely different way. She moved like somebody who enjoyed being looked at but refused to make being admired the point of her existence. Her clothing was bold, individually styled, and unmistakably chosen by someone with an artist's eye. She said something to the silver-haired woman. Both laughed. Then they stepped into the room. Wakako regarded them thoughtfully. “Ah,” she said again. Daichi looked down at her. “You know them?” “By reputation.” “Which ones?” “The artists.” He studied the pair. “The woman in white?” “Sera.” “And the other?” “Nadia.” Daichi looked back. “Artists?” “Yes.” He considered their appearance. Then nodded. “That makes sense.” Wakako smiled. “Does it?” “No,” Daichi admitted. She laughed. --- Nadia surveyed the reception area. Twenty-two people were already present. She recognized some from photographs and public appearances. Others were unfamiliar. And then she spotted Rogue. “Oh, there she is.” Sera followed her gaze. Rogue stood beside Suzy Q, looking profoundly pleased with herself. Nadia smiled. “She's enjoying this.” “Yes,” Sera said. “Far too much.” “Probably.” Nadia turned toward her. The light touched Sera's silver-white hair. For a moment, the faintest blue gradient appeared near the ends. Nadia noticed immediately. She smiled. “Oh, darling.” Sera looked at her. “What?” “Your hair.” Sera reached up. A few strands lifted away from her fingers. She blinked. Nadia laughed. “You're excited.” “I am.” “Good.” Sera looked toward the room again. There were familiar faces. Mandi's extraordinary orange hair. Dalia's neonpink dreadlocks. Nova and Vega's metallic colors. Bea's ice-blue silhouette. Anna's platinum blonde. And people she hadn't yet met. Some were laughing. Some talking quietly. Some watching the newcomers with open curiosity. Sera felt Nadia's hand slip into hers. She looked down. Then back at her. Nadia smiled. “Come on. Let's give them something to talk about.” Sera considered. Then smiled back. “I think they already have plenty.” “Darling, that has never stopped us before.” Rogue approached the five arrivals with Suzy beside her. “Panam.” “Rogue.” They embraced. Rogue stepped back and examined her. “You look wonderful.” Panam grinned. “I know.” Rogue laughed. “Of course you do.” Then her gaze moved toward Birgitta. “And you must be Birgitta.” Birgitta offered her hand. “Delighted.” Rogue shook it. “Welcome.” Birgitta smiled brightly. “Thank you for inviting me.” “My pleasure.” Rogue noticed the affectionate way Panam's hand settled against Birgitta's back. There was nothing uncertain about it. No tentative new attachment. The two women were very clearly comfortable with one another. Rogue smiled. “Enjoying Night City?” Birgitta tilted her head. “Immensely.” “Good.” “Although,” Birgitta added, “your city does make an extraordinary amount of noise.” Panam snorted. “Your city?” Rogue laughed. “She's not wrong.” Birgitta smiled at her. “I didn't say it was unpleasant.” “Of course not.” “I rather like a city that has absolutely no idea when to shut up.” Panam laughed. Rogue's smile widened. “Oh, you'll fit right in.” Then Suzy stepped forward. “Birgitta!” Birgitta's expression brightened. “Suzy!” They embraced warmly. Suzy drew back and looked her over. “Oh, sweetheart.” Birgitta laughed. “What?” “You look happy.” “I am.” Suzy glanced toward Panam. Then back at Birgitta. “Good.” Birgitta smiled. “Very good.” Suzy kissed her cheek. Panam watched the exchange with obvious affection. Then Suzy turned to her. “Panam.” “Suzy.” They embraced. Rogue looked between them. “You all seem extraordinarily pleased to see one another.” Panam grinned. “Imagine that.” Suzy laughed. “Rogue, darling, you invited people who actually like each other.” “A dangerous mistake.” “Catastrophic,” Birgitta agreed. Panam looked at her. Birgitta smiled innocently. Rogue shook her head. “And there are five more minutes before dinner.” Deja approached Rogue next. The difference between her face and her voice caught Rogue immediately. The face was gentle. Almost sweet. The voice belonged to a woman with no intention of wasting time making other people comfortable with nonsense. “Rogue.” “Deja.” They shook hands. Rogue looked her over. “Beautiful outfit.” “Thank you.” “The green is extraordinary.” “I know.” Rogue laughed. Deja smiled. Then Suzy appeared. “Oh, look at you.” Deja opened her arms. “Suzy!” They embraced. Suzy examined her ivory outfit. Then the collar. Then the dark green hair. “Very nice.” “Thank you.” “Lena?” “Among other contributors.” Suzy smiled. “And the mouth is still all yours?” Deja's eyes narrowed. “Would you like a demonstration?” Suzy burst out laughing. “Oh, there she is.” Rogue looked amused. Deja smiled sweetly at her. “Don't worry. I only bite people who deserve it.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Deja considered. “Sometimes I make exceptions.” Suzy laughed harder. Rogue shook her head. “Christ. You really are one of Mandi's friends.” Deja looked offended. “That's an unnecessarily harsh accusation.” From several feet away, Mandi shouted, “I HEARD THAT!” Deja turned. “GOOD!” The room laughed. And Rogue, who had initially been struck by Deja's appearance, began to understand why Suzy had been so eager to see this particular group assembled. Dalia heard Deja's voice. She turned immediately. The menthol lollipop came out of her mouth. “Oh, darling.” Deja looked across the room. Their eyes met. A smile appeared on Deja's face. Dalia excused herself from Tomas, who had been explaining something about Dino's preferred methods of problem-solving. He stopped. Followed her gaze. Then smiled. “Well, I think I understand.” Dalia laughed softly. “You probably don't.” She crossed toward Deja. Deja was already moving to meet her. They came together with no hesitation. Dalia slipped both arms around her. Deja's arms settled around Dalia's waist. Their kiss was warm, familiar, and thoroughly enthusiastic. Not a brief greeting between acquaintances. Something that made it perfectly clear they were very pleased to be together. When they separated, Deja was smiling. “Hello, beautiful.” Dalia touched her cheek. “Hello, darling.” “You've been here long?” “Not terribly.” “Having fun?” Dalia glanced toward Tomas and Dino. Then back. “It's been educational.” Deja laughed. “Oh?” “Very.” “Should I be concerned?” “Only if you object to interesting people.” Deja smiled. “Then no.” Dalia kissed her again. A few nearby guests watched with amused appreciation. Wakako noticed the exchange. So did Dakota. And Saskia, who had been speaking with Dakota near the windows, tilted her head. “Now that's a happy reunion.” Dakota smiled. “Yes.” Saskia watched Deja laugh at something Dalia said. The ivory-clad woman looked almost impossibly sweet when she smiled. Then she said something in reply. Dalia threw back her head and laughed. Saskia's interest sharpened. “Who is she?” “Deja,” Dakota answered. Saskia considered. “I think I'd like to meet her.” Dakota smiled. “Then we shall.” Rogue approached Sera and Nadia. “Sera.” “Rogue.” They embraced. Rogue stepped back. Looked up. And laughed. “Christ, you've outdone yourself.” Sera smiled. “Thank you.” Rogue gestured toward the white dress. “Is that something one wears or something one builds?” Sera tilted her head. “Both, perhaps.” Nadia started laughing. Rogue turned toward her. “Nadia.” “Hello, Rogue.” They embraced. Rogue examined her outfit. “Wonderful.” Nadia smiled. “Thank you.” “Did you coordinate?” “Not exactly.” Sera glanced at her. “We had several discussions.” “Arguments,” Nadia corrected. “Discussions.” “Darling, you rejected four designs before breakfast.” Sera considered. “Five.” Nadia stared at her. Then laughed. “Five! See?” Rogue laughed with them. “And the result?” Nadia gestured toward Sera. “Well, there she is.” Rogue looked at the white dress again. Then at Sera's silver-white hair and electric-blue eyes. “You know,” she said, “you're going to frighten half the people in this room.” Sera looked mildly surprised. “Why?” Nadia turned toward her. “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “You're standing here looking like somebody convinced lightning to attend a formal dinner.” Sera considered. Then smiled. “That's rather lovely.” Nadia laughed. Rogue shook her head. “You two really are artists.” “Guilty,” Nadia said. Suzy approached. “Sera!” Sera's face brightened. “Suzy.” They embraced warmly. Then Nadia. “Hello, trouble.” Nadia smiled. “Hello yourself.” Suzy looked between the two women. Then at their outfits. “Oh, this is getting ridiculous.” Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Is that praise?” “Enormous praise.” “Good.” Suzy looked at Rogue. “See?” Rogue sighed. “Yes, yes. I see.” “No, you don't.” Rogue laughed. “Then I look forward to being educated.” --- Padre had been watching Sera and Nadia from the far side of the reception area. At first, it had been the clothes. He was not immune to beauty. Nor was he incapable of appreciating the extraordinary skill required to turn fabric and light into something that challenged the eye. But then he'd noticed Sera's hair. The faint movement. The blue in her eyes. And the way Nadia's expression softened when she looked at her. Padre smiled. He approached Rogue as she finished the introductions. “Rogue.” “Padre.” “Would you introduce me?” Rogue's smile widened. “Gladly.” She turned. “Sera. Nadia. Sebastian Ibarra.” Padre inclined his head. “An honor.” Sera smiled. “The honor is ours.” Nadia offered her hand. “Lovely to meet you.” “And you.” He looked between them. “I understand you're artists.” Nadia grinned. “So we've been accused.” Sera laughed softly. Padre smiled. “And what sort of work do you create?” Nadia glanced at Sera. A familiar invitation. Sera considered. “Work that sometimes asks people to look at familiar things differently.” Padre nodded. “An admirable ambition.” Nadia smiled. “And occasionally work that asks whether the observer is willing to admit what they're actually seeing.” His expression sharpened with interest. “Ah.” Sera glanced at her. Nadia smiled. Padre considered the pair. “Then perhaps you'll permit an old man to ask a difficult question.” Nadia leaned forward slightly. “Please.” “Do you believe art is intended to reveal truth?” Sera thought for a moment. “Sometimes.” “And when it doesn't?” Nadia answered. “Perhaps it reveals what people want to believe is true.” Padre studied her. Then slowly smiled. “An interesting distinction.” Sera nodded. “There's another.” He turned toward her. “Please.” “Sometimes the artist doesn't know which it is.” For a moment, Padre said nothing. Then he laughed softly. “Oh, I think we're going to have a wonderful conversation.” Nadia looked delighted. “That's exactly what I was hoping.” Rogue quietly stepped away. Nobody stopped her. --- Panam had been examining the bar. The selection was excellent. Unnecessarily excellent. Which meant Rogue was having fun. Then she noticed the vodka. She stopped. Looked again. “Rogue.” Rogue approached. “Yes?” “What the fuck?” Rogue followed her gaze. “Oh.” “Is that genuine?” “Yes.” Panam stared at her. Then laughed. “You extravagant bastard.” “I've heard that several times tonight.” “Not enough.” Rogue grinned. “Would you like some?” Panam looked tempted. Then considered. “A little.” The bartender poured a small measure. Panam tasted it. Her expression changed. “Oh, fuck.” Rogue laughed. “Good?” Panam nodded slowly. “Very.” Beside her, Wakako spoke. “An unusual indulgence.” Panam turned. Wakako stood nearby with a drink of her own. “Wakako.” “Madame Panam.” They greeted each other warmly. Panam smiled. “Enjoying yourself?” “Immensely.” “Good.” Wakako glanced at the vodka. “Rogue seems determined to make tonight memorable.” “She's doing a decent job.” “Indeed.” For a moment they regarded one another. Then Wakako asked, “May I join you?” Panam smiled. “Please.” They moved toward a quieter part of the bar. Rogue watched them go. She had invited two women accustomed to command, both capable of making rooms full of very difficult people listen. And now, without a contract or a favor between them, they were beginning an entirely voluntary conversation. Rogue smiled. Excellent. --- Birgitta had wandered toward the windows. She hadn't meant to abandon Panam. Panam was perfectly capable of having an interesting conversation without her, and Birgitta was quite capable of doing the same. She'd paused to admire the view when a voice spoke nearby. “Beautiful, isn't it?” She turned. And looked up. Considerably up. Daichi stood a few feet away. Birgitta stared for half a second. Then smiled. “Goodness.” Daichi laughed quietly. “Sorry.” “Whatever for?” “People sometimes find the height a little surprising.” Birgitta looked at him. Then at the skyline. Then back. “Oh, darling, I wasn't complaining.” His smile widened. “Good.” She offered her hand. “Birgitta.” “Daichi.” He shook it carefully. Birgitta looked at his hand around hers. Then up at him. “Goodness,” she repeated. Daichi laughed. “You already said that.” “I know.” “Are you going to keep saying it?” “Possibly.” He shook his head, amused. She gestured toward Wakako. “Your companion?” “My aunt.” “Ah.” Daichi nodded. “And yours?” “Panam.” He glanced toward the bar. “The woman speaking with my aunt?” “Yes.” Daichi smiled. “They seem to be getting along.” Birgitta followed his gaze. Panam was laughing. Not politely. Genuinely. Wakako's expression had softened in response. Birgitta smiled. “They do.” Daichi regarded her. “You're pleased.” “Very.” “Some people might be uncomfortable.” Birgitta turned back. “Some people are uncomfortable with an extraordinary number of perfectly pleasant things.” Daichi laughed. “Fair.” She studied him. “You don't seem to be one of them.” “Not usually.” “Good.” For a moment, neither spoke. Then Birgitta tilted her head. “May I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Do you dance?” Daichi considered. “Not particularly well.” Birgitta smiled. “Oh, that's not what I asked.” His laughter was immediate. “No. I suppose it wasn't.” She offered her hand. “Then perhaps later?” Daichi took it. “I'd like that.” Birgitta smiled. “Excellent.” --- Near the center of the room, Deja had finally disengaged from Dalia long enough to meet Dakota and Saskia. Dalia accompanied her. Not as a guardian. Not as someone reluctant to let her go. Simply because she wanted to. Dakota approached with an easy smile. “Deja?” “Yes.” “Dakota Smith.” “Lovely to meet you.” They shook hands. “And this is Saskia.” Saskia offered her hand. Deja took it. Their eyes met. Saskia smiled. “Hello.” “Hello.” A small pause followed. Then Saskia glanced at Deja's dark green hair. “That's beautiful.” Deja smiled. “Thank you.” “And the ivory.” “Yes?” “An excellent choice.” “Glad you approve.” Saskia looked at her. Then smiled. “Oh, I do.” Dalia noticed the exchange. Of course she did. She slipped an arm around Deja's waist and kissed her cheek. “Darling, I believe I've found you interesting company.” Deja turned. “You say that as though you're leaving.” Dalia smiled. “I was planning to find Mandi.” “Ah.” “And possibly another drink.” “Definitely another drink.” Dalia laughed. Then looked at Saskia. “Take good care of her.” Saskia raised an eyebrow. Deja's expression changed immediately. “Dalia.” Dalia smiled innocently. “What?” Saskia looked between them. “I don't think she needs taking care of.” Deja turned toward her. A slow smile spread across her face. “Oh, I like you.” Dakota laughed. Dalia's grin widened. “Excellent.” Then she kissed Deja on the lips. Warmly. Thoroughly. When they separated, Dalia whispered something that made Deja laugh. Then she stepped back. “Have fun.” Deja smiled. “Planning to.” Dalia walked away. Saskia watched her go. Then turned toward Deja. “She really does adore you.” Deja's expression softened. “Yes.” A moment passed. Then Saskia said, “And I suspect you're not nearly as innocent as you look.” Deja stared at her. Dakota smiled into her drink. Then Deja began laughing. “Oh, darling.” Saskia grinned. “What?” “That's the nicest thing anybody's said to me all evening.” --- Rogue finally had her twenty-seven guests. Eight fixers. Eight companions. Eleven women from Madame Panam's Stable. And the room had changed. The difference wasn't merely visual, although the contrast between Mandi's neon-orange hair, Dalia's pink dreadlocks, the Marlow duo's metallic colors and void eyes, Bea's ice blue, Anna's platinum, Deja's venom-green hair, Birgitta's muted copper-grey, and Sera's silver-white was impossible to ignore. It was the way people were beginning to move. The conversations. The laughter. The curiosity. The tiny moments when somebody looked at a stranger and decided they wanted to know more. Suzy stood beside Rogue, watching. “Well?” Rogue took a sip of her whiskey. “I'm satisfied.” Suzy laughed. “Satisfied?” “Extremely.” “Good.” Rogue looked around. Anna had approached Wade again. Bea was still enjoying Gabriel's company. Regina was speaking with Nova. Vega had Muamar laughing hard enough to draw attention from across the room. Dino and Tomas had Mandi between them at the bar, all three apparently finding something enormously entertaining. Dalia was returning toward them. Deja and Saskia were deep in conversation. Wakako and Panam had taken seats near the windows. Birgitta stood beside Daichi, smiling up at him. Sera and Nadia were listening to Padre, who looked more animated than Rogue had seen him in months. Everything was beginning to take shape. But nothing had settled. Not yet. Suzy leaned closer. “You know what happens next?” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.” Suzy smiled. “They start finding out whether the people they're attracted to are actually worth spending time with.” Rogue considered that. Then nodded. “And?” “Some will be.” “Yes.” “Some won't.” “Obviously.” “And some,” Suzy said, looking toward the room, “are going to discover things they never expected to want.” Rogue smiled slowly. “That,” she said, “is what I was hoping for.” Suzy kissed her cheek. Then glanced toward the dance floor. “And now, if you'll excuse me, there's an orange-haired menace over there who promised me a dance.” Rogue laughed. “Go.” Suzy set down her glass. And crossed the room toward Mandi. Rogue watched her go. Then turned toward the windows. Night City glittered far below. Twenty-seven people were gathered above it. And the evening was only beginning. For once, Rogue Amendiares had absolutely no desire to know how it would end. She intended to enjoy finding out. --- ## Chapter 13 — The Man Who Preferred Not to Be Seen Wade Bleecker had a reputation for knowing things. Not simply facts. Anyone with money, contacts, and a sufficiently competent netrunner could acquire facts. Wade knew which facts mattered. He knew when a change in someone's tone meant the conversation had stopped being about the subject under discussion. He knew when silence was an invitation, when it was a warning, and when it was considerably more valuable than anything he might say. He also knew when somebody was attempting to manipulate him. Which was why the platinum-haired woman standing beside him was becoming something of a puzzle. She wasn't trying. Or, if she was, she was taking a remarkably unconventional approach. “I don't believe you,” Anna said. Wade raised an eyebrow. “About which part?” “That you actually enjoy negotiating shipping contracts.” “I didn't say I enjoyed them.” “You said you found them interesting.” “I do.” “That's worse.” Evelyn laughed into her drink. Wade looked at his cousin. “You are being unhelpful.” “I am having a wonderful evening.” “Those are not mutually exclusive.” “Clearly.” Anna smiled. Her platinum hair caught the warm lighting, nearly white where it passed across her shoulders. The black lipstick should have made her expression severe. Instead, the smile transformed it. Wade found that contrast distracting. He was not accustomed to being distracted. Anna leaned one elbow against the bar. “Let me understand this. You spend your days negotiating with people who want things moved from one place to another, frequently without anybody knowing where those things came from.” “That is an oversimplification.” “Of course.” “A rather substantial one.” “I was hoping you'd say that.” “Why?” “Because it means I get to hear the interesting version.” Evelyn looked delighted. Wade considered Anna. “And why would the interesting version appeal to you?” She took a sip of her drink. “Because people are almost always more interesting when they explain something they actually understand.” He paused. It was a perfectly reasonable answer. It was also disarmingly sincere. “Very well,” he said. Evelyn straightened. “Oh, this should be good.” Wade ignored her. “Imagine a manufacturer who can produce an exceptionally valuable component, but only in limited quantities.” Anna nodded. “The manufacturer needs a buyer, and the buyer needs a reliable supply. Straightforward enough.” “Not quite. The manufacturer cannot afford to have the buyer learn who else wants the component. The buyer cannot afford to reveal how badly it's needed. Several intermediaries know pieces of the arrangement, and none has a complete picture.” Anna's expression sharpened. “Because whoever controls the complete picture controls the price.” “Among other things.” “And you?” “I ensure that everyone receives enough of what they need to make the transaction worthwhile.” Anna considered that. “While knowing considerably more than any of them.” “Not necessarily.” She smiled. “Oh, come now.” Wade inclined his head. “Frequently.” “There we are.” Evelyn laughed. “Anna, I think you've just achieved more honesty in five minutes than some of Wade's clients manage in five months.” “That is a gross exaggeration,” Wade said. “Six months?” “Evelyn.” Anna looked between them, amused. Then she returned her attention to Wade. “Can I ask you something?” “Certainly.” “Do you ever get tired of being the person who understands what everyone wants?” His expression changed. Only slightly. But Evelyn noticed. And so did Anna. The question was not particularly difficult. Wade could have answered it in several conventional ways. A polite dismissal. A joke. A remark about the advantages of knowing one's customers. All perfectly serviceable. All entirely inadequate to the expression on Anna's face. She wasn't asking how he managed his professional obligations. She seemed genuinely curious whether the obligations exhausted him. “Occasionally,” he admitted. Anna nodded. “That sounds reasonable.” “Does it?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because even when people are interesting, they can be terribly demanding.” Evelyn made an appreciative sound. “Oh, you have no idea.” Wade gave her a look. “Do you intend to contribute anything useful to this conversation?” “I'm considering it.” “Take your time.” “I will.” Anna laughed. Then looked back at Wade. “On Crystal Palace, people are extremely good at explaining what they want.” “So I've heard.” “Most of them are considerably less good at explaining why they deserve it.” Wade smiled faintly. “An affliction not limited to orbital society.” “No,” Anna agreed. “I imagine not.” “And how do you respond?” “It depends.” “On?” “Whether I believe they know the difference.” That answer interested him. “Between wanting something and deserving it?” “Yes.” “An important distinction.” “I think so.” Anna glanced around the room. Dino was laughing somewhere near the bar's other end. His voice carried easily above the music. Mandi stood beside him, neon-orange hair unmistakable even in the crowded room. She was gesturing with the energetic conviction of someone explaining a plan that probably should not be attempted indoors. Dalia watched her over a menthol lollipop, neonpink dreadlocks falling across one shoulder. Anna smiled at the sight. Wade followed her gaze. “Friends?” “Yes.” “Close?” “Very.” “You seem an unusual group.” Anna turned back. “Do we?” “I'd say that's a fairly objective observation.” She laughed. “Fair.” “What brought you together?” Anna considered. That was a more complicated question than it sounded. There were stories she could tell. Others she couldn't. Some belonged to people who trusted her, and she had no intention of turning an enjoyable conversation with a stranger into a casual inventory of their private lives. But there was a perfectly good honest answer. “We liked one another.” Wade waited. Anna smiled. “That's it.” “Surely there's more.” “Of course there's more. But liking one another was the important part.” Evelyn lifted her glass. “I approve of that philosophy.” “Thank you.” Wade looked thoughtfully toward the group. “And the eleven women here tonight are all part of the same professional arrangement?” “Yes.” “An unusual arrangement.” “That's a popular word tonight.” “Appropriate, I think.” Anna studied him. “Does it bother you?” “Why should it?” “Some people find the idea of women making their own rules surprisingly offensive.” Evelyn snorted. “Oh, don't get Wade started on people making bad rules.” Wade sighed. “Evelyn.” “What? You hate bad rules.” “I dislike inefficient rules.” “See?” Anna smiled. “That's a wonderfully fixer-like distinction.” “An efficient rule may serve its purpose very well.” “Even if it's unfair?” Wade looked at her. She looked back. Evelyn's smile widened. “Oh, this is getting good.” A waiter approached with a tray of small dishes. Anna examined the selection. “What's that?” The waiter explained. She selected one, thanked him, and took a bite. Her expression changed. “Oh.” Evelyn laughed. “Good?” Anna nodded, still chewing. “Very.” She took another. Then looked at Wade. “You should try one.” “I've already eaten.” “That wasn't my recommendation.” “Indeed?” “Try one.” He regarded her. Then accepted the offered plate. Evelyn covered her mouth. Anna waited expectantly. Wade tasted it. Paused. And nodded. “Excellent.” Anna smiled with obvious satisfaction. “There.” Evelyn looked between them. “Remarkable.” Wade turned. “What?” “You accepted advice.” “I do that frequently.” “No, you accept information. There's a difference.” Anna laughed. Wade looked at his cousin with the expression of a man contemplating whether family loyalty had been oversold as a virtue. Evelyn looked delighted with herself. Then her attention shifted toward the music. “Oh.” Anna followed her gaze. The dance floor had become considerably more active. Muamar was attempting to demonstrate something to Rafael, whose laughter suggested he had no confidence whatsoever in the captain's proposed choreography. Suzy Q had taken Mandi's hand. The two women were dancing with absolutely no concern for the opinions of anybody around them. Anna smiled. Wade noticed. “You'd rather dance?” She turned back. “Not at this moment.” “Are you certain?” “Yes.” “Please don't feel obliged to remain.” Anna studied him. Then set down her drink. “Wade.” “Yes?” “Do you do that often?” “What?” “Offer people a graceful escape before they've asked for one?” Evelyn went very still. Wade considered the question. “I try not to monopolize conversations.” “That's considerate.” “Thank you.” “But you're assuming I'd be more interested in something else.” “Not necessarily.” Anna tilted her head. “I told you I wanted to hear the interesting version.” “Yes.” “And I'm still here.” He looked at her for a moment. Then inclined his head. “Point taken.” Anna smiled. “Good.” Evelyn looked at the dance floor again. Then back at Anna. “I believe I'll leave you two to your extremely civilized interrogation.” Wade sighed. “Evelyn.” “What?” “You are enjoying yourself far too much.” “Darling, you brought me to a party with genuine vodka, extraordinary food, and eleven women whose personalities make most corporate receptions look like funerals.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I intend to enjoy every fucking minute.” Anna laughed. Evelyn turned to her. “Don't let him intimidate you.” “I'll do my best.” “And don't believe him when he claims he's boring.” Wade closed his eyes. “Goodbye, Evelyn.” She grinned. “Have fun.” And walked away. Anna watched her go. Then turned toward Wade. “I like your cousin.” “So does everyone.” “That's not a complaint, is it?” “Not entirely.” She laughed. They found seats near the windows. There was no particular reason to remain at the bar, and Wade had suggested somewhere quieter when the music began rising. Anna accepted immediately. Outside, Corpo Plaza glittered below them. She stood near the glass for a moment. Wade joined her at a respectful distance. “Different view from the Palace,” he said. She smiled. “Very.” “Do you miss it?” Anna considered. “I haven't been away long enough to miss it.” “Of course.” “But I will.” “What part?” She glanced at him. He seemed genuinely interested. “The movement,” she said eventually. “Movement?” “The station never really stops being somewhere between places. Even when you're perfectly still, there's always this sense that everything around you exists because somebody managed to put it there.” Wade nodded. “A remarkable engineering achievement.” “Yes.” “But?” She smiled. “But I wasn't talking about engineering.” He waited. Anna looked out over the city again. “People go there carrying enormous expectations. Money, ambition, dreams, obligations. Some arrive believing they've finally made it. Others realize that getting there only means they have somewhere new to be disappointed.” “An expensive place to discover disappointment.” “Extraordinarily.” He smiled faintly. “And you enjoy observing them?” “Sometimes. Sometimes I get tired of it.” “You said earlier that people can be demanding.” “They can.” “And yet you choose to work among them.” “People are also fascinating.” “Even the disappointing ones?” “Especially some of those.” Wade laughed softly. Anna turned toward him. “Now you.” “Me?” “What do you like about Night City?” He looked faintly surprised. “That's a rather broad question.” “I have time.” He considered the skyline. “The possibilities.” Anna waited. He added, “And the fact that its people tend to reveal what matters to them, sooner or later.” “Even when they're trying to hide it?” “Especially then.” She smiled. “That sounds exhausting.” “Occasionally.” “And lonely.” Wade turned. Anna's expression remained open. She hadn't delivered the word as an accusation. She was considering the possibility. He looked back toward the city. “Sometimes.” He could have left it there. Normally, he would have. He had no particular objection to personal conversation. But there were degrees of intimacy, and he preferred to choose them carefully. Anna did not push. Instead, she sat down. Took another small sip of her drink. And looked thoughtfully at the city. The silence lasted long enough for Wade to become aware that he was the one deciding whether to continue. That was unusual. People who wanted something from him generally had very little patience for silence. They filled it. Explained themselves. Asked another question. Tried again. Anna seemed perfectly content to let him think. He sat beside her. “Evelyn thinks I take myself too seriously.” Anna smiled. “Does she?” “Frequently.” “Is she right?” “Occasionally.” “There's that word again.” He laughed. “She insists I should spend more time with people who don't want anything from me.” Anna considered. “Does she?” “Yes.” “Sounds sensible.” “Perhaps.” “And difficult.” He glanced at her. “Why difficult?” “Because if you're accustomed to people approaching you for a reason, you start looking for the reason even when there isn't one.” Wade studied her. Anna continued before he could answer. “Sometimes somebody just thinks you'd be interesting to talk to.” He remained quiet. She smiled. “For example.” “For example?” “I came over because you looked interesting.” “And?” “You are.” It was so straightforward that he had no immediate response. Anna appeared to find this rather amusing. “You look surprised.” “A little.” “Why?” “Because you're remarkably direct.” She considered. “I'm discovering I rather enjoy it.” “I see.” “Does it bother you?” “No.” “Good.” He looked toward the room. “So what do you want from me, Anna?” She smiled. “Right now?” “Yes.” “I'd like you to stop wondering what I want from you.” He laughed. A genuine laugh. Anna's smile widened. “There.” “Apparently my cousin was right.” “About?” “Some things.” “I'm sure she'd love to hear that.” “Please don't tell her.” Anna laughed. “Your secret is safe.” They stayed near the windows. The conversation wandered. Not aimlessly. It followed the natural route of two curious people discovering unexpected points of agreement. They discussed travel. Night City's architectural excesses. The peculiar tendency of powerful people to believe discretion and good taste were interchangeable. Anna described an orbital reception where a guest had spent nearly an hour explaining the market value of a sculpture while standing directly in front of it, preventing anybody else from seeing the work. Wade laughed. “What happened?” “The artist finally asked him to move.” “And?” “He offered to buy the sculpture.” “Of course he did.” “She declined.” Wade smiled. “An expensive mistake.” “Possibly. She might have accepted an apology.” He considered that. “Or perhaps she understood that the man wasn't actually interested in her work.” Anna smiled. “Exactly.” At another point, Wade asked whether she'd ever considered remaining in Night City. Anna shook her head. “Not permanently.” “You seem to enjoy it.” “I do.” “But the Palace is home.” “For now.” He noticed the qualification. “For now?” She considered. “I think I'm becoming more comfortable with the possibility that my life might change.” “Most lives do.” “Yes. But some people spend a great deal of energy pretending theirs won't.” He nodded. “And you?” “I'm trying not to.” Wade looked at her. “What brought that on?” Anna thought about the question. About Sera. About being invited into a circle of friends who had given her room to make choices without turning those choices into obligations. About looking into a mirror and seeing platinum hair, black lipstick, and her own familiar eyes. About discovering that the woman in the mirror didn't need permission to be there. She smiled. “Some very good company.” Wade followed her glance across the room. Sera was seated with Nadia and Padre. The artist's silver-white hair lifted subtly as she laughed at something Nadia had said. A few moments later, Padre spoke. Both women turned toward him with complete attention. Wade regarded them. “Friends?” “Very good ones.” He nodded. “Then I imagine you're fortunate.” Anna looked at him. “Yes,” she said. “I am.” The music changed. The previous song had been lively, drawing laughter and exuberant movement from the floor. The new one was slower. Not solemn. Simply inviting a different kind of closeness. Anna noticed immediately. Wade followed her gaze. “Now,” he said, “perhaps you would prefer to dance.” She turned toward him. “Perhaps.” He smiled. “Would you like to?” Anna studied him for a moment. “Are you asking whether I'd like to dance?” “Yes.” “Or suggesting that I might prefer somebody else's company?” Wade laughed. “I believe I've learned my lesson.” “Have you?” “I'm asking whether you'd like to dance with me.” Anna smiled. “Yes.” A small pause. Then she offered him her hand. “Very much.” Wade could dance. Anna found that unsurprising. He moved with the same careful competence he brought to conversation: attentive, controlled, and more comfortable responding than revealing too much initiative. It made him an excellent partner. For approximately thirty seconds. Then Anna stopped. He looked at her. “Something wrong?” “No.” “Then?” She smiled. “Do you ever stop thinking?” He laughed. “I'm beginning to suspect that's becoming a recurring criticism.” “Not criticism.” “An observation?” “Yes.” “And your recommendation?” She stepped closer. “Enjoy yourself.” He looked down at her. “I am.” “Good.” Then she rested a hand against his shoulder. “Show me.” For a moment he seemed genuinely surprised. Then something in his posture eased. He drew her a little closer. And they began moving again. Anna smiled. “There.” Wade laughed softly. “You're becoming rather demanding.” “Am I?” “Very.” She considered. “Does it bother you?” “No.” “Good.” They turned slowly. Around them, other couples moved through the music. Muamar and Rafael were dancing together. Saskia had persuaded Deja onto the floor, and Deja appeared to be demonstrating that her apparently gentle presentation concealed a considerable talent for making someone laugh while dancing. Dalia watched them with an affectionate smile, neonpink dreadlocks falling over one shoulder. Across the room, Mandi was dancing with Suzy. Wade noticed the orange hair. “I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like her.” Anna followed his gaze. “Mandi?” “Yes.” Anna laughed. “Oh, she's wonderful.” “I imagine she's rather difficult to overlook.” “That's the idea.” “And the pink-haired woman?” “Dalia.” “They're together?” “Yes.” He nodded. “An interesting pair.” Anna smiled. “Very.” “And you all know one another well?” “We do.” He considered the women. Then looked down at Anna. “There's something remarkable about the ease between you.” Anna's expression softened. “That's one of the reasons we're here.” “To enjoy yourselves?” “Yes.” “And?” “To enjoy each other being happy.” Wade was quiet for a moment. Then smiled. “A rather uncommon quality.” “Perhaps.” They danced a little longer. Then Anna leaned closer. “Wade?” “Yes?” “May I tell you something?” “Of course.” “I've had a very enjoyable conversation with you.” “As have I.” “And I like dancing with you.” “The feeling is mutual.” She looked up at him. “Then could you please stop examining whether I've got some hidden agenda?” He began laughing. Anna laughed too. “I'm serious!” “I know.” “Good.” He shook his head. Then smiled in a way she hadn't seen before. Not the polished, diplomatic expression with which he'd greeted her. Something warmer. Less guarded. “Very well, Anna.” She grinned. “Excellent.” He drew her close again. This time, he wasn't trying to understand her. He was simply dancing. And Anna decided she liked that version of Mr. Hands considerably more. From near the bar, Rogue watched them. She'd noticed Anna approach Wade earlier. She'd noticed Evelyn eventually leave them alone. But what interested her now was the expression on Wade Bleecker's face. The man was smiling. Actually smiling. Rogue took another sip of whiskey. “Well, I'll be damned.” Suzy appeared beside her, a little flushed from dancing. “What?” Rogue nodded toward the floor. Suzy looked. Then smiled. “Oh.” “Your Anna is doing rather well.” Suzy laughed. “She isn't my Anna.” “You know what I mean.” “I do.” They watched for a moment. Wade said something. Anna laughed. Then answered. He laughed too. Rogue shook her head. “I don't think I've ever seen Hands look quite that relaxed.” Suzy smiled. “Maybe nobody's given him a reason.” “Plenty of people have tried.” “Trying isn't the same thing.” Rogue looked at her. Suzy continued. “Anna isn't trying to impress him. She's interested in him.” “An important distinction.” “Enormous.” Rogue watched them turn across the floor. “And he?” Suzy considered. “I suspect he's beginning to realize that being interesting to somebody doesn't necessarily mean they want to use you.” Rogue glanced at her. “That's surprisingly thoughtful.” Suzy looked offended. “Darling, I run Lizzie's. You think I spend my days discussing lipstick and cocktails?” Rogue laughed. “Absolutely not.” “Good.” Then Suzy smiled. “Although I do enjoy both.” Rogue kissed her cheek. “Of course you do.” Anna and Wade finished their dance when the music changed again. Neither seemed in any hurry to separate. Wade offered his arm. She accepted. They crossed toward the bar together. “Another drink?” he asked. “Water, please.” “An excellent idea.” He ordered two glasses. Anna took hers and drank. Then looked at him. “Thank you.” “For the water?” “For the conversation.” He smiled. “The pleasure was mine.” “And the dance.” “That too.” She considered him. Then smiled. “I'd like to spend more time with you tonight.” His expression changed. Not surprise, exactly. Something closer to genuine pleasure. “I'd like that too.” “Good.” “Anna?” “Yes?” “May I ask you something?” She laughed. “You've been asking me things all evening.” “One more.” “Go on.” He looked at her. “Why me?” Anna considered. She could have said that his reputation interested her. That she was curious about the man who operated so effectively while remaining so difficult to pin down. That she'd heard people talk about Mr. Hands in terms usually reserved for institutions rather than individuals. All of those answers would have been true. But they weren't the important truth anymore. So she gave him that instead. “Because you listened.” He was quiet. Anna continued. “And because when you finally stopped trying to figure out what I wanted, I got to meet somebody I rather like.” Wade smiled. Slowly. Genuinely. “Then I'm glad you were persistent.” Anna laughed. “Oh, Wade.” “What?” “I'm only getting started.” He laughed with her. And for once, he looked entirely comfortable with not knowing what came next. --- ## Chapter 14 — Soft Look, Sharp Mouth Saskia had made three observations about Deja. The first was that her appearance was a magnificent piece of misdirection. The second was that she knew it. The third was that she was enjoying the hell out of watching people discover the first two. They were dancing. Or, more accurately, they had been dancing until Saskia made the mistake of asking whether Deja was always this sweet. Deja had stopped. Looked at her. And smiled. “Oh, darling.” Saskia laughed. “What?” “That's adorable.” “Which part?” “You.” “Me?” “Yes.” Deja's warm brown-amber eyes seemed almost impossibly innocent. “You've known me for twenty minutes, and you've decided I'm sweet.” “I said you looked sweet.” “Ah. Important distinction.” “I thought so.” “Very good. There's hope for you yet.” Saskia burst out laughing. “Oh, you're a menace.” “Occasionally.” “Only occasionally?” “When I'm asleep, I'm very well behaved.” Saskia considered. “Somehow I doubt that.” Deja's smile widened. “Good. You're learning.” They resumed dancing. Deja moved easily, letting the music guide her without turning every step into a demonstration. Saskia enjoyed that. She'd met people who danced to attract attention. Others danced because they enjoyed the music. Deja seemed perfectly capable of doing both, but the balance shifted according to whatever interested her at the moment. She wasn't performing for the room. She was dancing with Saskia. And that was a considerably more enjoyable distinction. “You know,” Saskia said, “Dakota told me tonight would be interesting.” “She did?” “Yes.” “Was she specific?” “Not particularly.” “Smart woman.” Saskia laughed. “Why?” “Because if she described us accurately, you might not have believed her.” “Oh?” Deja smiled. “Have you met Mandi?” “The orange-haired one?” “That's her.” “I've seen her.” “Good. Imagine trying to explain Mandi to somebody who hasn't.” Saskia considered. Then laughed. “All right, I see your point.” “Exactly.” “And Dalia?” Deja's expression warmed. “What about her?” “You two are close.” “Very.” “I noticed.” Deja smiled. “I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't.” Saskia glanced toward the bar. Dalia was standing with Mandi, Dino and Tomas, one hand resting affectionately against Mandi's back. Her neonpink dreadlocks caught the light whenever she moved. Then Dalia looked toward the dance floor. Found Deja. And smiled. Deja smiled back. Dalia blew her a kiss. Deja caught it theatrically. Saskia laughed. “Oh, that's shameless.” “Yes,” Deja agreed happily. “You don't even pretend otherwise.” “Why would I?” Saskia considered. “Fair question.” “Excellent. Your score is improving.” “My score?” “I'm keeping one.” “Out of?” “An unspecified maximum.” “That seems unfair.” “I'm also the judge.” “Even worse.” Deja laughed. Saskia shook her head, grinning. “I begin to understand why Dalia adores you.” For a moment, Deja's expression softened. Then she looked back at Saskia. “And I'm beginning to understand why Dakota brought you.” “Oh?” “You're fun.” Saskia smiled. “So are you.” “Good. Now we've established the obvious, shall we dance properly?” Saskia offered her hand. “Lead on.” Dakota Smith watched from the edge of the floor. She had been talking with Regina about the peculiar ways Night City turned ordinary logistical problems into opportunities for violence, but her attention kept returning to Saskia. Not because she was worried. Quite the opposite. Saskia looked delighted. That was unusual enough to be worth appreciating. Regina noticed. “Your friend?” Dakota nodded. “Yes.” “Having a good time.” “I believe so.” Regina followed her gaze. “Deja?” “Yes.” “Interesting woman.” Dakota smiled. “That's becoming the description of the evening.” Regina laughed. “I've met six of Rogue's guests so far. Every one of them has made me reconsider my first impression.” “Perhaps that is the point.” Regina considered. “Rogue certainly seems pleased.” They glanced toward their hostess. Rogue was standing near the windows with Suzy Q, listening to something Wakako was saying. Suzy laughed. Rogue followed a moment later. Dakota smiled. “She should be.” Regina nodded. Then looked back toward the dance floor. “Deja looks remarkably approachable.” “Yes.” “And?” Dakota watched Saskia laugh at something the green-haired woman had just said. “And I suspect she is considerably more formidable than that appearance suggests.” Regina grinned. “You've met her?” “Not properly.” “Then how do you know?” Dakota considered. “Because Saskia has been trying to get the last word for fifteen minutes.” Regina looked again. Deja said something. Saskia opened her mouth. Stopped. Then laughed helplessly. Regina began laughing too. “Ah.” Dakota smiled. “Precisely.” The next song was slower. Saskia moved closer. Deja accepted the change without hesitation, resting a hand lightly against her shoulder. For a while, they danced without talking. The music gave them something neither needed to explain. Saskia became aware of several things. Deja's warmth. The subtle green of her hair where the light touched it. The ivory collar at her throat. And the complete absence of uncertainty in the way she moved. Saskia glanced at the collar. Deja noticed immediately. “Go ahead.” Saskia looked up. “What?” “Ask.” She hesitated. “I wasn't sure whether it was appropriate.” Deja smiled. “That depends on the question.” “The collar.” “Yes?” “Is it part of your work?” “Sometimes.” “And otherwise?” Deja considered her. “It's something I chose.” Saskia nodded. “Right.” “Dalia and I have our own arrangement.” “I gathered.” “But that doesn't mean everything about me belongs to her.” Saskia met her eyes. “Of course not.” “Good.” Deja smiled. Saskia thought for a moment. “Does it mean something different when you're with her?” “Yes.” “Would you rather not explain?” “Not at all.” Deja adjusted her hand on Saskia's shoulder. “Sometimes I like giving somebody I trust more control. Sometimes I like being difficult enough to make her earn it.” Saskia laughed. “Somehow that second part doesn't surprise me.” “It shouldn't.” “And she enjoys that?” Deja's expression became wonderfully wicked. “Dalia has a remarkable amount of patience.” “I can imagine.” “And excellent ways of telling me when I've used all of it.” Saskia laughed again. Then grew thoughtful. “But it's something you both want.” “Yes.” “Not a rule other people get to apply to you.” Deja's eyes sharpened. For the first time, her smile disappeared completely. “Exactly.” The answer was quiet. Absolute. Saskia nodded. “Understood.” Deja studied her for another moment. Then smiled again. “See? You are learning.” Saskia laughed. “Am I winning?” “Darling, I haven't decided whether there's a prize.” “Cruel.” “Terribly.” The music ended. Saskia kept hold of Deja's hand. “Drink?” “Water.” “Good idea.” They crossed toward the bar. Saskia ordered two glasses. Deja thanked the bartender, took hers, and drank half before speaking again. Saskia noticed. “Thirsty?” “Dancing does that.” “I was beginning to think you might be unstoppable.” Deja glanced at her. “That's Mandi's department.” They laughed. Then Saskia leaned against the counter. “Can I ask something less personal?” “Try me.” “What do you actually enjoy doing when you're not here?” Deja considered. “A dangerous question.” “Why?” “Because I may answer it.” “That's rather the idea.” “Then you might find yourself listening to a very long explanation about network security.” Saskia blinked. Then smiled. “Network security?” “Yes.” “Seriously?” “Very.” “I wasn't expecting that.” Deja's expression became innocent. “Oh, darling. How disappointing.” Saskia laughed. “No, I mean—” “You saw the dress, the collar, the pretty face, and thought, there's a woman who must spend all day choosing lipstick?” “I didn't think that!” “Good.” “I genuinely didn't.” Deja regarded her over the rim of her glass. Then smiled. “I know.” “You little shit.” Deja laughed delightedly. “There she is!” Saskia shook her head. “Goddammit.” “You're welcome.” Saskia took another drink. “Fine. Network security.” “Mm-hmm.” “Tell me something interesting.” Deja tilted her head. “Something interesting?” “Yes.” “Something you won't regret asking?” “Preferably.” Deja considered. “People spend extraordinary amounts of money securing access to things they haven't bothered to understand.” Saskia raised an eyebrow. “Such as?” “Buildings. Databases. Communication systems. They buy expensive protective layers, install them, and assume the money has done the thinking for them.” “And it hasn't?” “Money is notoriously bad at thinking.” Saskia smiled. “Fair.” “Then somebody who actually understands the system discovers the expensive security is protecting the wrong thing.” “That sounds rather common.” “Painfully.” Saskia considered. “So what do you do?” “Understand what matters before deciding how to protect it.” “Sounds straightforward.” “Most good ideas do.” “Until somebody has to implement them.” Deja stopped. Then slowly smiled. “Oh.” Saskia raised an eyebrow. “What?” “That was a good answer.” “Thank you.” “Very good.” “Do I get points?” “Several.” Saskia laughed. “I'll treasure them.” They found Dakota near the windows. She was alone for the moment, looking out toward the city. Saskia approached first. “Dakota!” Her friend turned. And smiled. “Enjoying yourself?” “Immensely.” “I can see.” Saskia gestured toward Deja. “Have you two properly met?” “Only briefly.” Deja offered her hand. “Then let's fix that.” Dakota shook it. “A pleasure.” “Likewise.” Dakota regarded her with quiet curiosity. “Your hair is remarkable.” Deja smiled. “Thank you.” “Almost black in this light.” “That's one of the things I like about it.” “And the ivory.” “Also deliberate.” Dakota nodded. “The contrast works.” “I'm glad you think so.” Saskia laughed. “Oh, don't let the gentle smile fool you.” Deja turned toward her. “Excuse me?” Dakota smiled. “What have I missed?” “She's been insulting me for half an hour.” “Affectionately,” Deja corrected. “Relentlessly.” “Also true.” Dakota chuckled. “I see.” Saskia folded her arms. “And then she tells me she works with network security.” Dakota looked at Deja. “Ah.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Ah?” Dakota smiled. “I've spent years watching people buy technology to solve problems caused by their own decisions.” Deja laughed. “Then we've both suffered.” “Perhaps from different directions.” “Tell me.” Dakota considered. “In the Badlands, communications problems rarely begin with someone forgetting an expensive piece of hardware.” “No?” “They begin when someone assumes a perfectly good system will continue working under conditions nobody designed it for.” Deja nodded immediately. “Temperature?” “Sometimes.” “Dust?” “Frequently.” “Power?” “Always eventually.” Both women laughed. Saskia watched them. “Oh, this is going to be fascinating.” Dakota smiled. “You asked.” “I did.” Deja turned toward Saskia. “Darling, if you're bored, we can discuss the relative merits of your shoes.” Saskia glanced down. “My shoes are excellent.” “I agree.” “Thank you.” “Unlike several network architectures.” Dakota laughed. Saskia groaned. “Goddammit.” The conversation continued far longer than any of them expected. It began with communications. Moved to equipment reliability. Then to the difference between what a system was designed to do and what people actually expected of it. Dakota described the practical improvisations required to keep remote communities connected when infrastructure was unreliable. Deja was interested in the details. Not politely interested. Genuinely. She asked questions. Specific ones. The sort that revealed she was already building a picture of how everything fitted together. Dakota responded in kind. And somewhere in the exchange, her relaxed expression gave way to something more personal. “Most people only notice infrastructure when it fails,” she said. Deja nodded. “Because when it works, they forget somebody made it work.” “Yes.” “And somebody keeps making it work.” Dakota looked at her. Then smiled. “Exactly.” Saskia fell quiet. She knew Dakota well enough to recognize that tone. Dakota could speak about practical problems all evening. But this was no longer merely about machinery. Deja appeared to recognize it too. “People take the work for granted,” she said. “Sometimes.” “Even the ones who depend on it most.” Dakota nodded. “The Badlands teach you that being independent doesn't mean you need nobody.” Deja thought about that. Then said, “It means you know what you're responsible for.” Dakota's expression softened. “Yes.” A small silence followed. Not uncomfortable. Just thoughtful. Then Saskia cleared her throat. “Wonderful. Two competent women having a serious conversation. I'm completely out of my depth.” Deja turned. “Oh, sweetheart.” Saskia groaned. “Don't.” “Come here.” “What?” Deja slipped an arm around her waist. “You're the reason we're talking.” Saskia blinked. Then laughed softly. “Fair point.” Dakota smiled. “And the evening is better for it.” Saskia looked between them. Then shook her head. “You're both terrible.” “Apparently,” Dakota agreed. Later, the music softened again. Dakota excused herself to speak with Padre. Saskia and Deja remained by the windows. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Saskia turned toward her. “You know, I wasn't expecting any of this.” Deja smiled. “What were you expecting?” “A party.” “Technically accurate.” Saskia laughed. “I mean, drinks, dancing, interesting people.” “And?” “I didn't expect to meet somebody I could laugh with for an hour and then watch have a genuinely fascinating conversation with one of my oldest friends.” Deja's expression warmed. “Dakota's wonderful.” “She is.” “I like her.” “So do I.” Saskia hesitated. Then smiled. “And I like you.” Deja looked at her. The soft expression returned. Not the deliberately innocent look she used when preparing to say something outrageous. Something simpler. “Good.” Saskia laughed. “Good?” “Yes.” “That's all?” Deja considered. Then stepped closer. “No.” Saskia's smile faltered slightly. Not from discomfort. From suddenly understanding that the conversation had changed. Deja reached for her hand. “I like you too.” Saskia looked down at their joined fingers. Then back. “Oh.” “Mm-hmm.” “Now you're doing it.” “Doing what?” “Making me forget what I was going to say.” Deja grinned. “Finally.” Saskia laughed. “You absolute menace.” “Affectionately.” “Relentlessly.” “Also true.” It was Saskia who kissed her. She moved slowly enough to leave room for an answer. Deja gave one by meeting her halfway. The kiss was warm and unhurried. When they separated, Saskia was smiling. Deja studied her for a moment. Then said, “Well.” Saskia laughed. “Well?” “That was a much better use of your mouth.” “Oh, fuck you.” Deja burst out laughing. Saskia laughed too. Then caught her hand again. “Would you like another?” Deja's eyes brightened. “Very much.” The second kiss lasted longer. Saskia's hand settled gently against Deja's cheek. Deja slipped an arm around her waist. Neither seemed particularly concerned that they were standing at a party. But when they separated, Deja glanced over Saskia's shoulder. And smiled. Saskia turned. Dalia was watching them from near the bar. She raised her glass. Her neonpink dreadlocks fell across one shoulder, and a familiar mischievous smile appeared around the menthol lollipop. Deja laughed. Saskia looked back. “Should I be embarrassed?” “Why?” “She's watching us.” “She has eyes.” Saskia laughed. “Very helpful.” Deja squeezed her hand. “Darling, Dalia likes seeing me happy.” Saskia looked toward the pink-haired woman again. Dalia smiled directly at her. Not possessively. Not warningly. Warmly. Saskia returned the smile. Then she looked at Deja. “I think I understand.” “Good.” Dalia joined them a few minutes later. She approached with the easy confidence of someone who had no interest in pretending she hadn't seen them kissing. “Having fun?” Deja smiled. “Very.” Dalia looked at Saskia. “And you?” “Enormously.” “Excellent.” She slipped an arm around Deja and kissed her. Deja returned the kiss affectionately. When they separated, Dalia glanced toward Saskia. “You have excellent taste.” Saskia laughed. “I'd gathered that.” Dalia smiled. “Oh, I like you.” Deja looked between them. “Wonderful. Now there's two of you.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Two of what?” “People who think they're entitled to tease me.” Saskia grinned. “Think?” Dalia laughed. Deja groaned theatrically. “I'm surrounded.” “Tragic,” Dalia agreed. “Appalling,” Saskia added. Deja shook her head. Then smiled. “I'm going to need another drink.” “Water first,” Dalia said. Deja looked offended. “I just had water.” “How long ago?” Deja considered. Saskia started laughing. Dalia smiled. “Exactly.” Deja sighed. “Fine.” Dalia kissed her cheek. “Good girl.” Deja's expression changed. Only slightly. But Saskia noticed. It was nothing like the bantering obedience of a moment earlier. Something private had passed between the two women. And Saskia understood immediately that she didn't need to know everything about it. She only needed to respect it. Dalia looked at her. “You're welcome to join us.” Saskia smiled. “I'd like that.” “Good.” Deja took Saskia's hand. Dalia slipped her arm around Deja's waist. And together they walked toward the bar. From her place beside Rogue, Suzy had watched the whole exchange. She smiled. “What?” Rogue asked. “Nothing.” Rogue followed her gaze. “Oh.” “Mm-hmm.” “Deja and Saskia.” “Yes.” “And Dalia.” “Obviously.” Rogue considered them. Then smiled. “That's an interesting arrangement.” Suzy turned toward her. “Darling.” “What?” “You've met these women.” “I have.” “And you're still trying to put them into neat little arrangements?” Rogue laughed. “Occupational habit.” “Terrible habit.” “I've been told.” Suzy looked toward the three women again. Deja was laughing. Saskia was saying something to Dalia. And Dalia had removed her lollipop to answer, her expression mischievous. Suzy smiled. “You know what's nice?” “What?” “They're not trying to make everybody want the same thing.” Rogue nodded. “No.” “They're just making room for the things they actually want.” Rogue looked around the party. Wade and Anna were back near the windows. Mandi had returned to Dino and Tomas. Nova and Vega were talking with Muamar and Rafael. Wakako and Panam were deep in a conversation that appeared to be growing more enjoyable by the minute. Birgitta stood beside Daichi, laughing at something he'd said. Bea had drawn Gabriel into a discussion with Regina. Padre was still with Sera and Nadia. Rogue smiled. “Good.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “Very good.” At the bar, Saskia found herself standing between two women who looked as though they'd been designed specifically to defeat any attempt at maintaining a sensible conversation. One with screaming neonpink dreadlocks, reflective emerald eyes, and a menthol lollipop. The other with dark venom-green hair, brown-amber eyes, and a face so sweet it ought to have come with a warning label. Dalia ordered water. Deja accepted it with theatrical resignation. Saskia watched. Then smiled. “You know what?” Dalia glanced at her. “What?” “I think Dakota's going to be very pleased with herself.” Deja laughed. “Why?” “Because she brought me to a party where I met you.” Dalia's expression warmed. Deja smiled. Then leaned closer to Saskia. “Darling.” “Yes?” “Tell her she has excellent taste.” Saskia laughed. “I will.” Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Then looked toward the dance floor. “Well.” Deja followed her gaze. “What?” “There's music.” “Yes.” “And you've had water.” “Yes.” Dalia smiled slowly. “Then I believe we have a perfectly good reason to dance.” Deja grinned. Saskia looked between them. “Both of you?” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Problem?” Saskia considered. Then laughed. “Not remotely.” Deja took her hand. Dalia took the other. And the three women returned to the dance floor. Saskia had arrived expecting an interesting evening. She was beginning to suspect that was going to be a spectacular understatement. --- ## Chapter 15 — Invitations and Temptations Saskia had arrived at Rogue's party expecting an enjoyable evening. Good food. Interesting people. Perhaps some dancing. She hadn't expected to find herself between two extraordinary women on a dance floor, discovering that one of them had apparently made it her personal mission to destroy Saskia's ability to maintain a coherent thought. The other was helping. Enthusiastically. “This is unfair,” Saskia announced. Deja looked up at her with enormous brown-amber eyes. “What is?” “Both of you.” Dalia laughed. Her neonpink dreadlocks swung across one shoulder as she turned, the menthol lollipop temporarily abandoned in favor of a particularly wicked smile. “Darling, we haven't done anything.” “That's the problem.” Deja stopped dancing. Then looked at Dalia. “Oh.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I think she's complaining.” “About what?” “Insufficient attention.” Saskia stared at them. “Oh, fuck you both.” Deja's smile became positively radiant. “Now that's an interesting suggestion.” Dalia burst out laughing. Saskia covered her face. “Jesus Christ.” “Wrong establishment,” Dalia murmured. Deja laughed so hard she had to catch Saskia's arm. And despite herself, Saskia joined them. There was something wonderfully liberating about these women. They didn't seem interested in making anyone guess whether they were enjoying themselves. They said what they meant. They laughed when something amused them. And when they wanted to touch somebody, they made it clear enough that the other person could decide whether to welcome it. Saskia was discovering she liked that very much. Dalia moved closer. “Now, sweetheart.” Saskia lowered her hands. “Yes?” “Would you actually like more attention?” The teasing remained in her voice, but the question itself was sincere. Saskia looked at her. Then at Deja. “Yes.” Deja smiled. “From whom?” Saskia considered her options. Then grinned. “I'm beginning to think you're both going to be unbearable until I answer that properly.” “Correct,” Deja said. Dalia nodded. “Entirely.” Saskia laughed. Then reached for Deja's hand. “And if I say both?” Dalia's expression softened into something warmer. “Then we'll see what we all enjoy.” Across the room, Suzy Q had finally caught Mandi alone. Or as close to alone as one could reasonably expect at a party of twenty-seven people. Dino and Tomas had stepped away to investigate the food, leaving Mandi leaning against the bar with one foot lifted slightly behind her as she examined the heel of an outrageously expensive shoe. Suzy approached quietly. “Mandi.” The orange-haired woman looked up. Her black eyes brightened. “Oh, hello, gorgeous.” Suzy glanced downward. “Problem?” “No.” “Then why are you inspecting your shoe?” “Professional responsibility.” “To whom?” “Humanity.” Suzy laughed. Mandi lowered her foot. “These shoes are a triumph of engineering.” “I'm sure.” “Architecture.” “Obviously.” “And possibly witchcraft.” “Now that I believe.” Mandi grinned. Then Suzy stepped closer. “Dance with me.” Mandi's expression changed. It wasn't the invitation itself. They'd danced together many times. It was the way Suzy said it. Quietly. With a smile that suggested she had considerably more in mind than moving around to music. Mandi tilted her head. “Suzy Q.” “Yes?” “Are you flirting with me?” “Shamelessly.” Mandi looked scandalized. “At a respectable gathering like this?” Suzy stared at her. Then laughed. “Oh, you little shit.” Mandi offered her hand. “Come on, then. Before Rogue notices and calls the authorities.” Suzy took it. “Rogue would probably sell tickets.” “Excellent point.” The music was slower than before. Mandi approved immediately. It gave her a very good excuse to stand close to Suzy. Not that she needed one. Suzy rested a hand against her waist. Mandi slipped her arms around Suzy's shoulders. For a moment they simply moved together. Then Suzy looked down into the black contacts. “Do you know what I've been thinking about?” Mandi grinned. “My shoes?” “No.” “My hair?” “God, no.” “My devastating charm?” Suzy smiled. “Closer.” Mandi's expression became theatrically thoughtful. “Oh, this is difficult.” Suzy touched her cheek. “I've missed you.” The joke vanished. Not completely. With Mandi, that would have required medical intervention. But enough. Her expression softened. “Missed you too.” Suzy smiled. “Good.” Mandi glanced toward Rogue. Their hostess was speaking with Wakako near the windows. Rogue caught her eye. Looked at Suzy. Then raised her glass with a smile that could only be described as conspiratorial. Mandi laughed. “Oh, she knows.” Suzy followed her gaze. “Of course she knows.” “She looks awfully pleased.” “Rogue frequently does.” “Do you think she's expecting something?” Suzy turned back. “Mandi.” “Yes?” “Would you like me to kiss you?” Mandi's grin returned in full force. “Thought you'd never ask.” Suzy kissed her. Mandi responded with immediate enthusiasm, drawing her closer. Neither hurried. The music continued around them. When they separated, Suzy was smiling. “Well?” Mandi considered. Then sighed. “Tragic.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Tragic?” “Absolutely terrible.” “Oh?” “We're going to have to try again.” Suzy laughed. “You shameless little menace.” “It's a burden.” The second kiss was considerably less concerned with maintaining appearances. Dino noticed. Naturally. He had been returning from the food with Tomas when Suzy and Mandi kissed again. He stopped. “Oh, hello.” Tomas followed his gaze. Then laughed. “Apparently the dancing's improving.” Dino watched for another moment. Mandi's neon-orange hair was impossible to mistake. Suzy had one hand against her cheek. They looked thoroughly absorbed in one another. Dino smiled. “Well, good for them.” Tomas glanced at him. “Disappointed?” Dino turned. “Why?” “You seemed interested in Mandi.” “I am.” “And?” “And she appears to be having a fantastic time.” Tomas laughed. “That's a surprisingly sensible answer.” “Fuck you.” “There's the Dino I know.” Dino took a bite of something from his plate. Then looked toward the dancing women again. “Besides, the night's young.” Tomas smiled. “That it is.” --- At the center of the floor, Deja was beginning to suspect that Saskia had been hiding a considerable amount of mischief. This pleased her. She had been worried about being the worst influence in the conversation. Dalia, naturally, had eliminated that concern almost immediately. Saskia stood between them, one hand in each of theirs. The music changed. Something with a slower, more deliberate rhythm. Dalia looked at Deja. Deja smiled. Then Dalia turned to Saskia. “Come here, darling.” Saskia moved closer. Dalia rested a hand lightly against her waist. “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “Good.” Deja stepped in beside them. For a while they danced without talking. It was an interesting arrangement. Not particularly coordinated at first. Three people trying to discover a shared rhythm without anyone taking complete charge. Then Dalia made a small adjustment. Deja followed immediately. Saskia noticed. And smiled. “Oh.” Dalia looked at her. “What?” “You two do this a lot.” “Dance?” “Know what the other wants before she says it.” Deja laughed. “Not always.” Dalia smiled. “Frequently.” Saskia considered. “That's rather beautiful.” For a moment, Deja's expression changed. Not embarrassed. Simply touched. Dalia glanced toward her. Then kissed her cheek. Deja turned and kissed Dalia properly. Saskia watched. The affection between them wasn't theatrical. They weren't trying to make the room notice. It was simply there. Warm. Established. And entirely comfortable. When they separated, Deja looked at Saskia. “Everything all right?” Saskia smiled. “Better than all right.” Deja offered her a hand. “Then come here.” Saskia accepted. Her kiss with Deja was gentle at first. Then warmer when Deja returned it. When they separated, Saskia laughed softly. “Oh, damn.” Deja grinned. “Good?” “Very.” Dalia smiled at them. “Excellent.” Saskia looked toward her. Then hesitated. Dalia noticed immediately. “What is it?” “May I?” Dalia's smile softened. “Of course.” Saskia leaned closer. Dalia met her halfway. Their kiss was affectionate and unhurried. When they separated, Saskia was smiling so broadly that Deja started laughing. “Oh, look at you.” Saskia stared. “What?” “You're pleased with yourself.” “Shouldn't I be?” “Absolutely.” Dalia laughed. Then slipped her arms around both women. “Now,” she murmured, “shall we try dancing again?” Saskia considered. “I'm not sure I remember how.” Deja grinned. “Tragic.” “Heartbreaking,” Dalia agreed. And all three dissolved into laughter. Dakota had noticed the exchange. She wasn't spying. She had simply been standing near enough to see Saskia kiss Deja. Then Dalia. Then laugh so freely that several nearby guests turned to look. Dakota smiled. “Happy?” Regina asked beside her. “Very.” “Your friend seems to be having an excellent evening.” “She does.” Regina watched the three women return to dancing. “Interesting relationships.” Dakota nodded. “Yes.” “Not complicated?” Dakota considered. “Most worthwhile relationships are complicated.” Regina laughed. “Fair.” “The question is whether the people involved know what they're doing.” “And those three?” Dakota smiled. “I suspect they understand one another better than most.” Regina looked thoughtful. Then nodded. “Perhaps.” --- Suzy finally drew back from Mandi. The orange-haired woman looked positively delighted. Suzy laughed. “You're enjoying yourself.” “Immensely.” “Good.” Mandi tilted her head. “Suzy?” “Yes?” “Can I ask something?” “Always.” “Would you like to find somewhere quieter?” Suzy looked at her. Then smiled. “Oh?” Mandi leaned closer. “Somewhere with a comfortable sofa.” “Very specific.” “I'm a woman of refined tastes.” Suzy glanced toward Rogue. Rogue was watching them. Again. Mandi followed her gaze. Then raised one hand. Rogue lifted her glass. Suzy laughed. “She really is incorrigible.” “She invited me.” “True.” “She should have known better.” “Oh, she did.” Mandi looked delighted. “Excellent.” Suzy took her hand. “Come on, then.” They crossed toward the private corridor together. Mandi walked with the cheerful confidence of somebody who had absolutely no intention of pretending she wasn't enjoying herself. But halfway across the room, she stopped. Suzy looked back. “What?” Mandi glanced toward the dance floor. Dalia was still there. Between Deja and Saskia. The three women were laughing. Dalia caught Mandi's eye. Then noticed Suzy's hand in hers. Her expression brightened. Mandi raised her eyebrows. Dalia smiled. Then blew her a kiss. Mandi caught it theatrically. Pressed it to her heart. And grinned. Suzy laughed. “Happy?” Mandi nodded. “Very.” “Good.” They continued toward the corridor. The private rooms had been arranged with Rogue's usual attention to detail. Not merely bedrooms. Small, comfortable retreats with seating areas, private facilities, refreshments, and enough space for guests to decide what they wanted without feeling they had been ushered toward any particular conclusion. Suzy appreciated that. Mandi appreciated the sofa. “Oh, that's excellent.” Suzy closed the door behind them. Mandi examined the upholstery. Then looked up. “Do you think Rogue tested the furniture?” Suzy laughed. “For comfort?” “Obviously.” “Probably.” “Good. I like responsible hosting.” Suzy approached. “And what would you like to do with this responsibly selected furniture?” Mandi considered. Then smiled. “Sit down.” “Really?” “Yes.” Suzy looked suspicious. “That's unexpectedly modest.” “Darling, I've been wearing these shoes for hours.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Oh, you ridiculous woman.” Mandi sat. Then extended a hand. “Come here.” Suzy accepted it. Mandi drew her down beside her. For a moment they simply looked at one another. Then Suzy brushed a strand of neon-orange hair away from Mandi's face. “You know,” she said softly, “I really have missed this.” Mandi smiled. “My hair?” “You.” “Oh.” “The jokes.” “Of course.” “The trouble.” “Obviously.” “And the moments when you stop pretending everything is a joke.” Mandi's expression softened. She reached for Suzy's hand. “Missed you too.” Suzy kissed her. Slowly. Mandi returned the kiss with an affection that had very little to do with showing off. When they separated, she smiled. “Well.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Well?” “That was lovely.” “Only lovely?” “Dangerously lovely.” Suzy laughed softly. “Better.” Mandi drew her close again. This time neither felt any need to keep talking. They kissed until Suzy was laughing against her mouth, until Mandi had forgotten the joke she'd been preparing, and until the extraordinary evening beyond the closed door seemed very far away. Eventually Suzy rested her forehead against Mandi's. “Comfortable?” “Very.” “Want me to stay?” Mandi smiled. “Please.” Suzy kissed her once more. Then settled against her. There was no hurry. No audience. Just two women who had missed one another and were delighted to have found time together. --- Back on the dance floor, Saskia had become very aware of how warm Deja's hand felt in hers. Dalia's, too. The music had changed again, but none of them seemed particularly interested in leaving. Saskia laughed at something Deja said. Then looked toward the windows. “Good God.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I came here with Dakota expecting a perfectly civilized party.” Deja smiled. “And instead?” Saskia looked between them. “I'm dancing with two exceptionally beautiful women who have apparently decided to ruin my concentration.” Dalia laughed. “Only your concentration?” Saskia grinned. “We'll see.” Deja squeezed her hand. “Darling, you're getting bold.” “Bad influence.” “Obviously.” Dalia smiled. “Would you like a change of scenery?” Saskia's expression shifted. “A change of scenery?” “Somewhere quieter.” Deja turned toward Dalia. Their eyes met. A familiar understanding passed between them. But Deja didn't simply assume. She looked at Saskia. “Would you like that?” Saskia considered. Then nodded. “Yes.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” Saskia glanced toward the private corridor. Then back. “Both of you?” Deja laughed softly. “Only if that's what everybody wants.” Dalia nodded. “Exactly.” Saskia looked from one to the other. Then smiled. “I'd like to spend some time alone with you both.” Deja's expression warmed. “Then let's find somewhere comfortable.” They left the dance floor together. No dramatic announcement. No furtive glances. Just three women holding hands, making their way toward the quieter part of the venue. Dakota caught Saskia's eye as they passed. Saskia smiled. Dakota returned it. Nothing needed explaining. At the entrance to the corridor, Dalia paused. Saskia looked at her. “What?” Dalia smiled. “Before we go any farther, one thing.” Saskia nodded. “Go on.” “You don't owe either of us anything because you've enjoyed dancing with us.” Deja nodded. “Or kissing us.” Saskia's expression softened. “I know.” “Good,” Dalia said. “And if I change my mind?” “Then we change plans,” Deja answered immediately. Saskia looked at them. Then laughed. “Oh, I think I like you two rather more than is sensible.” Dalia grinned. “Excellent.” Deja squeezed her hand. “Come on.” --- Their room was quiet, warmly lit, and considerably less formal than the reception space. Saskia stepped inside. Looked around. Then laughed. “Rogue really doesn't do anything halfway, does she?” Dalia closed the door. “Rarely.” Deja crossed toward the sofa and sat. Then held out her hand. “Saskia.” Saskia approached. Deja drew her gently down beside her. Dalia joined them on the other side. For a moment they simply sat together. The change in atmosphere was immediate. No music demanding movement. No crowd drawing their attention. Just conversation, warmth, and the unmistakable awareness that they had chosen to be here. Saskia looked at Deja. “You know what surprised me most about you?” Deja smiled. “My extraordinary modesty?” Saskia laughed. “No.” “My technical brilliance?” “Closer.” “My devastating charm?” Dalia snorted. Saskia grinned. “That too.” Deja looked delighted. “Go on.” Saskia considered. “You're genuinely comfortable with who you are.” Deja's expression changed. Dalia glanced at her. Saskia continued. “Not just the clothes. Or the collar. Or the way you tease people.” She smiled. “You know what you want.” Deja was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled. “I've had some help learning that.” Dalia reached for her hand. Deja took it. Saskia watched them. Then leaned closer. “May I kiss you?” Deja's smile warmed. “Yes.” They kissed. When they separated, Dalia touched Saskia's cheek. “And me?” Saskia laughed softly. “Very much.” Dalia kissed her. And when Saskia drew back, she found Deja smiling at both of them. “Oh, look at you.” Saskia laughed. “What?” “Still pleased with yourself.” “Can you blame me?” Deja considered. “Not remotely.” Dalia smiled. Then slipped an arm around Saskia. The three settled together on the sofa, trading kisses and quiet laughter, their earlier banter giving way to a tenderness none of them seemed interested in disguising. For a while, Saskia forgot about the party. Not because the evening had become less interesting. Because she'd found something she wanted to enjoy without distraction. --- Out in the reception area, Rogue watched the private-room occupancy display change. Two rooms were now in use. She smiled. Then turned toward the bar. Wakako and Panam were still talking. Birgitta and Daichi had moved onto the dance floor. Anna and Wade sat together near the windows, their conversation apparently showing no signs of ending. Nova and Vega had somehow managed to make both Muamar and Rafael laugh so hard that Regina had turned to investigate. And Dino and Tomas were now standing alone at the bar, looking toward the dancers with the expressions of men reconsidering their evening's possibilities. Rogue took a sip of whiskey. Suzy was enjoying herself. Mandi was undoubtedly being impossible. Dalia, Deja and Saskia had found a quieter place to enjoy one another's company. And the remaining guests were beginning to realize that the evening offered considerably more than polite conversation. Rogue smiled. Now we're getting somewhere. --- ## Chapter 16 — Double Trouble Muamar Reyes had made a serious tactical error. He had assumed that the woman with the white-void eyes was the reasonable one. In his defense, almost anyone might have made the same mistake. Nova Marlow had spent the previous ten minutes listening to him with composed interest. Her chrome-and-gold hair caught the light whenever she tilted her head, and her expression suggested someone willing to let a man finish explaining himself before deciding whether he deserved to be contradicted. Her professional partner, Vega, was showing considerably less restraint. The chrome-and-brass-yellow hair was impossible to overlook. So were the black-void eyes. Particularly when their owner smiled immediately before saying something outrageous. “So,” Vega said, “you've spent a substantial portion of your career transporting things nobody's supposed to know exist.” Muamar raised a finger. “That's a gross simplification.” “Is it inaccurate?” “That's not the point.” “Excellent. We've established the point.” Rafael laughed. Muamar turned toward him. “Don't encourage her.” “I'm not.” “You're laughing.” “She's funny.” Vega beamed. “See? Rafael appreciates quality.” Nova took a sip of her drink. “Don't get too comfortable. She's only being nice because she hasn't discovered your weaknesses yet.” Rafael grinned. “And what happens when she does?” Nova regarded him over the rim of her glass. “That depends on how entertaining they are.” Vega pointed at her. “See? That's the problem with Nova. She lets you think she's the civilized one.” “I am civilized.” “You once spent twenty minutes explaining to a man why his proposal was insulting, and he thanked you afterward.” “He needed the explanation.” “He needed his head examined.” Muamar burst out laughing. Rafael shook his head. “I'm beginning to understand why Rogue invited you.” Vega leaned closer. “Oh, darling. You haven't begun to understand a fucking thing.” Rafael liked them. That much was becoming obvious. Not simply because both women were striking. Night City was full of beautiful people, and he had long ago discovered that beauty offered almost no useful information about whether somebody was worth spending an evening with. The Marlow duo were something else. They worked together. That was apparent in the smallest details. Nova didn't interrupt Vega's stories to redirect attention toward herself. Vega knew when Nova was about to make a point and frequently arranged the conversation so that she could deliver it. They teased one another with the brutal familiarity of colleagues who had survived enough shared professional disasters to stop worrying about politeness. And neither appeared interested in pretending the other was infallible. “So,” Rafael said, “how did you two become partners?” Vega opened her mouth. Nova pointed at her. “Don't.” Vega stared. “What?” “Tell the version that doesn't involve three fictional arrests.” Muamar laughed. “Three?” “Four,” Vega corrected. Nova closed her eyes. “Vega.” “What? I'm improving the story.” “You're manufacturing evidence.” “That's what good storytelling is.” Rafael started laughing. Muamar leaned forward. “No, no. I want her version.” Nova sighed. “Of course you do.” Vega raised her glass. “Finally, a man with taste.” Then she glanced toward Nova. Nova gave her a level look. A silent warning. Vega considered. And smiled. “Fine. The boring version.” “Accurate,” Nova corrected. “Must you always be difficult?” “Professionally.” Vega turned toward the men. “We discovered we worked well together.” Rafael waited. “And?” “And neither of us could find a sufficiently convincing reason to stop.” Nova smiled. “That part is true.” Muamar laughed. “A rare victory for honesty.” “Don't get used to it,” Vega replied. They had been talking long enough for the initial spectacle of the Marlow duo's appearance to fade into something much more interesting. Muamar had almost stopped noticing the impossible eyes. Almost. Whenever Vega delivered one of her more outrageous remarks, the black voids made her expression particularly startling. Nova's white-void eyes had a different effect. She could listen with complete attention, her unfamiliar gaze resting on someone without revealing the usual cues people relied upon to judge where she was looking. But her face remained expressive. Her amusement was obvious. So was her impatience. And when she smiled, the effect could be devastating. Muamar regarded her thoughtfully. “You've been awfully quiet.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “Have I?” “Compared with Vega.” “Everyone is quiet compared with Vega.” “HEY!” Rafael laughed. Nova turned toward Muamar. “I'm listening.” “Carefully.” “Usually.” “Why?” She considered. “Because you've been telling us a fascinating story about how one of your deliveries went spectacularly wrong.” Muamar grinned. “And?” “And I'm trying to work out which parts you've improved for dramatic effect.” Vega made a delighted noise. “Oh, fuck.” Rafael started laughing. Muamar put a hand over his heart. “I'm wounded.” “Not according to your story,” Nova replied. “You escaped entirely unharmed.” Vega slapped the counter. “THERE she is!” Muamar stared at Nova. Then began laughing. “Oh, you magnificent bastard.” Nova smiled. “Thank you.” “That's not a compliment.” “I've decided to take it as one.” Rafael lifted his glass. “To professional discretion.” Vega snorted. “Darling, you're drinking with the wrong women for that.” Nova glanced at her. “On the contrary. We're extremely discreet about anything that actually matters.” Rafael regarded her. Then nodded appreciatively. “That,” he said, “I believe.” The conversation moved from disastrous deliveries to disastrous clients. Vega had opinions. Enormous opinions. Most of them expressed with language that would have made an average corporate executive swallow his drink. “There's nothing quite like a rich asshole who thinks paying for something means he understands how it works,” she announced. Muamar nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, now that I understand.” “Doesn't matter what the thing is. A machine. A system. A service. Give the bastard enough money and suddenly he's an expert.” Rafael smiled. “You've met a few?” “Enough to establish a pattern.” Nova took a drink. “Vega has a particular intolerance for people confidently explaining subjects they don't understand.” Vega turned. “Because it's fucking exhausting!” Muamar laughed. “And Nova?” “Oh, she's worse.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “Am I?” “Much worse.” “How?” “You ask them questions.” Rafael smiled. “That sounds reasonable.” “It is not reasonable,” Vega declared. “Not when she already knows they can't answer.” Nova looked innocent. “I believe people should have opportunities to clarify their positions.” Vega stared at her. Then turned toward Muamar. “See? That's the dangerous one.” Muamar laughed so hard he had to set down his glass. Rafael was grinning. Nova merely smiled. Vega noticed the music change first. A faster rhythm had given way to something more inviting. She looked toward the dance floor. Then toward the men. “Well.” Muamar raised an eyebrow. “Well?” “Can either of you dance?” “Of course.” Vega considered him. “That was an astonishingly confident answer.” “Because it's true.” “Oh, excellent. I adore watching men defend their reputations.” Rafael laughed. “And if they're good dancers?” “Then I suppose I'll have to find something else to criticize.” Nova smiled. “You'll manage.” “Obviously.” Muamar offered Vega his hand. “Shall we?” She looked at it. Then at him. “Why, Captain. How civilized.” “I have hidden depths.” “You'd better.” She took his hand. Rafael turned toward Nova. “May I?” Nova smiled. “Gladly.” And the four of them joined the dancers. Muamar was a very good dancer. Vega found this deeply inconvenient. Within a minute she'd discovered that her planned campaign of merciless mockery had run into the unfortunate obstacle of actual competence. “Oh, fuck you.” He laughed. “What?” “You're good.” “I told you.” “I assumed you were full of shit.” “An understandable mistake.” She laughed. He turned her smoothly beneath his arm. Her chrome-and-brass-yellow hair flashed through the light. When she came back toward him, she was grinning. “All right.” “All right?” “I concede the point.” “That's very generous.” “Don't get used to it.” He laughed again. Then leaned close enough to be heard. “Having fun?” “Immensely.” “Good.” “And you?” “More than I expected.” Vega raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I had no idea what Rogue had planned.” “Neither did we.” “Really?” “Darling, Rogue's idea of a surprise apparently involves collecting most of the city's dangerous personalities and giving them excellent alcohol.” Muamar laughed. “And excellent company.” Vega's expression warmed. “That too.” A few feet away, Nova was discovering that Rafael had a talent for making conversation without forcing it. He was attentive. Funny. And refreshingly comfortable letting a silence pass without treating it as a problem to be solved. She liked that. “You dance well,” she said. “Thank you.” “Muamar's been boasting about his abilities.” “He does that.” “And yours?” “I prefer demonstration.” Nova laughed. “A wise policy.” “Occasionally.” She studied him. “You've known him a long time?” “Yes.” “How long?” “Long enough to recognize when a story has acquired new details.” Nova smiled. “Then you must have an excellent memory.” “Somebody has to.” They laughed. Rafael glanced toward Vega and Muamar. His friend was smiling broadly, listening as Vega apparently explained something with a sequence of gestures that suggested an engineering disaster. Rafael shook his head. “She's really something.” Nova followed his gaze. “Yes.” “You two must have interesting working days.” She laughed. “That is one word for them.” “And the others?” “Productive, occasionally catastrophic, and very rarely boring.” Rafael smiled. “Sounds familiar.” Nova regarded him. “You and Muamar?” “Yes.” “Then perhaps we have something in common.” “Perhaps.” He offered his hand as the music shifted. She accepted. And they continued dancing. Vega was becoming increasingly interested in Muamar. Not because of his reputation. That had been entertaining enough, but it was the man himself who was beginning to win her over. He was enthusiastic without being pushy. Comfortable with laughter, including laughter at his own expense. And, importantly, he appeared completely unfazed by her language. She decided to test that. “So, Captain.” “Yes?” “What's the worst thing a woman has ever said to you on a date?” He considered. “Oh, that's a dangerous question.” “Excellent.” “Do you want the honest answer?” “Obviously.” He leaned closer. “She told me my car had more personality than I did.” Vega stopped. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, that's fucking brutal!” “It was.” “Was she right?” Muamar looked offended. “Of course not.” Vega glanced at him. “Captain.” “What?” “Was she right?” He hesitated. Then laughed. “All right. Perhaps that evening.” Vega laughed harder. “Oh, I like you.” His expression warmed. “Good.” She moved a little closer. “Very much, actually.” Muamar looked at her. Then smiled. “The feeling is mutual.” For a moment neither spoke. Then Vega tilted her head. “Are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to do all the fucking work?” He laughed. “May I?” “Yes, you magnificent idiot.” He kissed her. Vega returned it immediately, one hand settling against his shoulder. The kiss was warm and thoroughly enthusiastic. When they separated, Muamar was grinning. “Well?” Vega pretended to consider. “Acceptable.” “Acceptable?” “For a first attempt.” He laughed. “You're impossible.” “Frequently.” Then she kissed him again. Nova noticed. She smiled. Rafael followed her gaze. “Your partner seems to be enjoying herself.” “Very.” “Good.” Nova turned back. “And you?” “What about me?” “Are you enjoying yourself?” Rafael smiled. “Immensely.” “Excellent.” A moment passed. Then he said, “May I kiss you?” Nova regarded him. The question was gentle. Entirely without presumption. She liked that too. “Yes.” Their kiss was unhurried. When they separated, Nova smiled. Rafael looked pleased. “Good?” “Very.” He laughed softly. “That's reassuring.” She raised an eyebrow. “Were you worried?” “Perhaps a little.” “Why?” “Because I rather like you.” Nova's expression warmed. “Then we have something else in common.” The four met again when the song ended. Vega looked positively delighted. Nova recognized the expression. “Oh, God.” Vega turned. “What?” “Whatever you're about to say, reconsider.” Vega looked wounded. “Nova!” “I'm saving us all time.” Muamar laughed. Rafael smiled. Vega regarded Nova. Then glanced at Rafael. Then back. Her grin widened. “Oh.” Nova closed her eyes. “Don't.” “Did you kiss him?” “Vega.” “I'm asking a perfectly reasonable question.” Rafael started laughing. Nova sighed. “Yes.” Vega clapped her hands once. “FUCKING FINALLY!” Several nearby guests turned. Nova stared. Muamar burst out laughing. Rafael covered his mouth. Vega looked around innocently. “What?” Nova shook her head. “You're a menace.” “A professional menace.” “Unfortunately.” Vega slipped an arm companionably around Nova's shoulders, giving her a brief squeeze before releasing her. Then she turned to the men. “Gentlemen.” Muamar smiled. “Yes?” “Drinks?” Rafael laughed. “Excellent idea.” Back at the bar, the atmosphere had changed. The four were still joking. Still teasing. But now there was a pleasant certainty about the attraction between them. Nobody needed to pretend otherwise. Muamar ordered water. Vega looked offended. “Water?” “Yes.” “Captain, are you trying to ruin my evening?” “Keeping myself alive.” “Unreasonable.” Nova accepted a glass of her own. “Drink some.” Vega turned. “Excuse me?” “You've been dancing.” “I've noticed.” “Water.” Vega stared at her. Then sighed. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Rafael handed her a glass. “Here.” She looked at him. “Traitor.” “Hydrated traitor.” Muamar laughed. Vega took a drink. Then smiled. “God, you're all unbearable.” Nova looked at her. “You love it.” Vega grinned. “Unfortunately.” Their exchange was precisely the kind of banter the two women had become known for: irreverent, familiar, and completely natural between professional partners who knew one another extraordinarily well. Nothing about it required the guests to imagine a private romantic relationship. As far as anyone here needed to know, the Marlow duo were colleagues, friends, and formidable allies. That was enough. Rafael set down his glass. “May I propose something?” Vega raised an eyebrow. “Darling, that depends enormously on what you're proposing.” Muamar laughed. “A dangerous opening.” “I'm an adventurous woman.” Nova smiled. “We've noticed.” Rafael grinned. “I was going to suggest somewhere quieter.” Vega considered. “Quieter?” “Yes.” “Why?” “So we can continue enjoying one another's company without shouting over the music.” She looked at Muamar. He smiled. “Sounds excellent to me.” Then Vega turned toward Nova. A brief look passed between them. Not a secret romantic exchange. A professional partner's familiar question: What do you think? Nova considered Rafael. Then Muamar. Then smiled. “I'd enjoy that.” “Good.” Vega looked back at the men. “Well, gentlemen.” Muamar raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “Lead the way.” They walked toward the private corridor. Vega remained beside Muamar. Nova walked with Rafael. As they passed the bar, Dino spotted them. His eyebrows rose. He glanced at Tomas. “Interesting.” Tomas followed his gaze. Then laughed. “Very.” Dino watched Vega say something to Muamar. The captain threw back his head and laughed. Nova shook her head at whatever she'd heard. Rafael smiled. Four people. Four distinct personalities. And clearly a remarkable amount of mutual interest. Dino grinned. “Those two women are fucking incredible.” Tomas nodded. “Yes.” “Do you think Rogue knew?” “About what?” “How they'd get along?” Tomas considered. Then smiled. “I think Rogue hoped everyone would surprise themselves.” Dino looked toward the corridor again. Then raised his glass. “Well, she's doing a damn fine job.” --- The private suite was spacious. A comfortable seating area. Soft lighting. A well-stocked refreshment counter. And an uninterrupted view over Night City. Vega stopped in the doorway. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Muamar laughed. “What?” “Rogue has a gift for making people feel underdressed in buildings.” Nova entered behind her. Looked around. Then smiled. “Very nice.” Rafael closed the door once everyone was inside. Vega turned toward him. “Now, Rafael.” “Yes?” “Tell me something.” “Anything.” She smiled. “Are you always this polite?” He laughed. “Not always.” “Good.” Muamar looked amused. “Why good?” “Because I'm interested in meeting the version of you that stops worrying about behaving perfectly.” Rafael considered. Then grinned. “You might regret that.” Vega's smile widened. “Darling, I very rarely regret interesting decisions.” Nova sighed. “That's not entirely true.” Vega turned. “Oh, fuck off.” The men burst out laughing. Nova smiled sweetly. “I'm only helping.” “Professionally,” Vega muttered. “Precisely.” They settled onto the sofas. At first, nothing particularly dramatic happened. And that was part of the pleasure. Nobody was trying to hurry the others toward a predetermined conclusion. Muamar told a story about a disastrous evening involving a client, a stolen vehicle, and a restaurant owner with a remarkably aggressive interpretation of customer service. Vega laughed until she had to wipe her eyes. Rafael supplied corrections whenever the captain's narrative drifted too far from reality. Nova began asking questions. Specific questions. Questions that exposed increasingly unlikely elements of the story. Eventually Muamar threw up his hands. “All right! All right! Perhaps I've improved one or two details.” “One or two?” Rafael repeated. Vega collapsed against the back of the sofa. “Oh, you lying bastard!” Muamar looked at her. “You're enjoying this.” “Immensely.” “Then I regret nothing.” “Good answer.” Rafael smiled at Nova. “You see what I deal with?” She nodded solemnly. “A terrible burden.” “Enormous.” “Fortunately, he seems trainable.” Vega started laughing again. Muamar stared at Nova. “You're worse than she is!” Nova smiled. “Thank you.” Eventually the conversation softened. The city glittered beyond the windows. The party was audible as a distant murmur. Vega sat beside Muamar, her hand resting comfortably in his. Nova sat with Rafael, close enough that their shoulders touched. They talked more quietly now. Not because anybody had run out of jokes. Because they'd reached the pleasant point where conversation no longer required a performance. Muamar turned toward Vega. “May I tell you something?” She smiled. “Depends whether it's boring.” He laughed. “I don't think it is.” “Go on.” “I've had a wonderful evening.” Her expression warmed. “So have I.” “And I'd like to kiss you again.” Vega considered. Then smiled. “Captain, that may be the least objectionable idea you've had all night.” He laughed. Then kissed her. Vega returned it warmly, drawing him closer. Across the room, Rafael brushed a metallic strand of hair away from Nova's face. She looked at him. Smiled. And kissed him. For a while, the four of them simply enjoyed the affection they'd found. No declarations. No promises. No invented obligations. Just an evening that had become considerably more interesting than any of them had expected. Vega eventually drew back from Muamar. She looked toward Nova. “Having fun over there?” Nova turned. Her white-void eyes were bright with amusement. “Very.” “Good.” Rafael smiled. Muamar glanced between the women. “You two really are remarkable.” Vega raised an eyebrow. “Are we?” “Yes.” She considered. Then smiled. “Oh, we know.” Nova laughed. “Modesty has never been her strongest quality.” “Neither has patience,” Vega replied. Rafael grinned. “Should we be concerned?” Vega regarded him. Then Muamar. Then smiled. “Only if you're intending to waste the rest of the evening talking about cargo insurance.” Muamar burst out laughing. “Noted.” Nova looked toward Rafael. “Would you like to stay a little longer?” He smiled. “Very much.” “Good.” Vega stretched comfortably against the sofa. Then looked around at the others. “Well, gentlemen.” Muamar smiled. “Yes?” “I think we can agree Rogue's party has exceeded expectations.” Rafael laughed. “Enormously.” Nova nodded. “Quite.” Vega grinned. “Then perhaps we ought to make sure the rest of the evening lives up to the beginning.” Muamar regarded her. His smile widened. “I think we can manage that.” And for once, Vega Marlow had absolutely no objection to his confidence. --- Back in the reception area, Rogue noticed that four familiar figures were missing. She glanced toward the corridor. Then smiled. Bea approached with Gabriel beside her. Her ice-blue hair remained immaculate, the sharp chin-length line catching the light as she turned. “Something amusing?” Bea asked. Rogue nodded toward the private suites. “Muamar and Rafael.” Bea followed her gaze. Then noticed who else was absent. A smile appeared. “Oh, those two.” Rogue laughed. “Indeed.” Gabriel glanced between them. “Should I ask?” Bea turned toward him. “Only if you enjoy answers that make you blush.” He smiled. “I might.” Rogue raised her glass. “Good. You're learning.” Bea laughed. Then glanced at the nearly empty space beside Rogue. “Where's Suzy?” “Still enjoying herself.” “With Mandi?” “Yes.” Bea smiled. “Wonderful.” Rogue looked at her. “You seem pleased.” “Why wouldn't I be?” “Fair.” Bea glanced toward Gabriel. Then back at Rogue. “Actually, I was hoping to ask you something.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Bea's smile became distinctly mischievous. “About your private suites.” Gabriel looked interested. Rogue started laughing. “Oh, I think I'm going to like this.” --- ## Chapter 17 — The Hostess Has Her Privileges Rogue Amendiares looked at Bea. Then at Gabriel. Then back at Bea. “About my private suites?” Bea smiled. Her ice-blue hair framed her face in a sharp, immaculate chin-length line. Beneath it, her expression was so sweet that Rogue immediately became suspicious. She knew better than to trust that particular smile. “Yes,” Bea said. Rogue folded her arms. “I'm listening.” “Are they all as comfortable as the descriptions suggest?” “More.” “Good.” “Planning to inspect the furniture?” “Possibly.” Gabriel made a quiet sound beside her. Rogue turned toward him. “Something to add?” He smiled. “I'm beginning to suspect this conversation has several layers.” Bea laughed. “Only several?” “I'm being conservative.” Rogue grinned. “I like him.” “So do I,” Bea replied. Gabriel looked between them. “Should I be worried?” “Yes,” Rogue said. “No,” Bea said simultaneously. They looked at one another. Then burst out laughing. Gabriel shook his head. “Wonderful. Very reassuring.” Bea slipped her arm through his. “Don't worry. Rogue enjoys making people nervous.” “Occupational hazard,” Rogue agreed. “And you?” Gabriel looked at Bea. “Me?” “Are you nervous?” He considered. “A little.” Bea's smile softened. “Good nervous?” “Very.” “Then we're doing fine.” Rogue studied the two of them. Gabriel had spent much of the evening with Bea. They'd talked at the bar, danced once, and returned to conversation with the sort of easy familiarity that sometimes developed quickly between people who discovered they enjoyed similar things. Rogue had noticed the change. Gabriel had become less formal. Bea, meanwhile, had grown increasingly playful. There had been a moment earlier when Gabriel made a remark that caused her to laugh so suddenly she nearly spilled her drink. Rogue had looked over. Bea caught her eye and smiled. Now here they were. And Rogue was beginning to suspect she was being invited into something rather interesting. She tilted her head. “Bea.” “Yes?” “Are you flirting with my guest?” “Shamelessly.” “Gabriel?” He smiled. “Quite happily.” “And with me?” Bea's eyes brightened. “Rogue, darling.” “What?” “I thought you'd never ask.” --- Rogue laughed. A proper laugh, deep enough that Wakako glanced over from her conversation with Panam. Bea looked pleased. Gabriel was grinning. “Well,” Rogue said, “that's refreshingly direct.” “I find it saves time.” “Does it?” “Usually.” Rogue looked her over. The extraordinary ice-blue hair. The expensive dress. The composed manner that seemed almost at odds with the mischief in her eyes. She knew that Bea's confidence wasn't merely a costume. There was a formidable mind behind it, and a woman who had made a deliberate decision about how she wished to spend her evening. Rogue liked that. Very much. “And what exactly are you proposing?” Bea considered. Then looked toward Gabriel. “Would you like to explain?” He raised an eyebrow. “Me?” “Yes.” “You're the one who started this.” “And you've been enjoying watching me.” “Immensely.” “Then participate.” Rogue grinned. Gabriel regarded Bea with open amusement. Then turned toward Rogue. “I've had a wonderful time with Bea.” “Good.” “And I'm rather attracted to her.” “Understandable.” Bea smiled. “Why, Gabriel.” He laughed. “And,” he continued, “having spent a little time with you tonight, I find myself rather attracted to you as well.” Rogue's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Yes.” Bea looked delighted. Rogue studied him for a moment. Then smiled. “That's a remarkably good answer.” “Thank you.” “Particularly because you managed it without making either woman sound like a consolation prize.” Gabriel laughed. “I'd be a very foolish man to do that.” “Yes,” Bea agreed. “You would.” Rogue considered. Then stepped closer. “Gabriel.” “Yes?” “Would you like to kiss me?” He smiled. “Very much.” “Then come here.” He kissed her carefully at first. Not hesitantly. Simply giving her room to decide how close she wanted him. Rogue answered by placing a hand against his cheek and drawing him nearer. When they separated, she regarded him thoughtfully. “Well.” Gabriel smiled. “Well?” “Not bad.” Bea burst out laughing. Gabriel looked at her. “Not bad?” Rogue's expression became wicked. “Would you prefer a written evaluation?” “I was hoping for something a little more enthusiastic.” She laughed. “Greedy.” “Apparently.” Bea slipped closer. “May I offer a second opinion?” Rogue turned toward her. “By all means.” Bea kissed Gabriel. A warm, affectionate kiss that ended with both smiling. Then she looked at Rogue. “My assessment?” “Please.” “Very promising.” Rogue laughed. Gabriel shook his head. “Should I be concerned that I'm being evaluated by committee?” “Absolutely,” Bea replied. “Any right of appeal?” “Of course.” “To whom?” Rogue offered him her arm. “The committee chairwoman.” They didn't leave immediately. Rogue had a party to host, and unlike some of her guests, she could not disappear without arranging a few practicalities. She checked with the bar manager. Dinner service was running smoothly. Security had reported nothing unusual. The private suites were operating as intended. And the staff had been instructed to respect guests' privacy without compromising safety. Satisfied, she glanced toward Wakako. The older fixer was still speaking with Panam. Their conversation had become considerably less formal. Wakako had one hand resting on the back of a chair, listening while Panam explained something with the characteristic directness that made her impossible to confuse with anybody else. Rogue considered approaching. Then decided against it. Wakako was perfectly capable of managing an evening without supervision. So was Regina. And Padre. And, frankly, every person in the room. That had been rather the point. Rogue turned back toward Bea and Gabriel. “Everything's in order.” Bea smiled. “Excellent.” Gabriel offered his hand. “Shall we?” Rogue looked at it. Then at him. “Gentlemanly.” “I try.” “Don't overdo it.” He laughed. Bea took his other hand. And the three walked toward the private corridor. --- The suite they selected overlooked the eastern side of Corpo Plaza. Rogue opened the door. Gabriel entered first. Then stopped. “Good Lord.” Bea followed. “Oh, this is beautiful.” The room was softly lit, with comfortable seating arranged near the windows, a private washroom, and a refreshment counter stocked with water, fruit, and several carefully chosen drinks. Beyond the glass, Night City stretched away into the darkness. Gabriel turned toward Rogue. “You really don't do things halfway.” Rogue laughed. “I've heard that.” Bea approached the windows. For a moment she stood quietly, looking out. The ice-blue of her hair caught the reflection of the city lights. Gabriel joined her. “Quite a view.” “Yes.” Rogue watched them. There was something she appreciated about people who could enjoy a moment without immediately trying to fill it with noise. Bea rested her hand lightly against Gabriel's arm. He turned toward her. She smiled. Then looked back at Rogue. “Come here.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Giving me orders in my own party?” Bea's expression was delightfully innocent. “Inviting you.” “Ah.” “Important distinction.” Rogue smiled. “Very.” She crossed the room. For a moment, the three stood together beside the windows. The city glittered below. Gabriel glanced toward Rogue. Then toward Bea. “I should probably say something.” Rogue looked amused. “Should you?” “Yes.” Bea smiled. “Go on.” He took a breath. “I'm having a wonderful evening. And I'm very happy to be here with both of you.” Rogue nodded. “Good.” “But I don't want either of you thinking I'm assuming anything.” Bea's expression warmed. “Gabriel.” “Yes?” “That's precisely why I wanted you here.” He looked at her. She continued. “You've been attentive all evening. You listen. You ask. And when I tell you what I want, you don't treat it as a negotiation.” Rogue smiled. “An increasingly rare talent.” Gabriel laughed softly. “Thank you.” Bea stepped closer. “Now, what I'd like is to kiss you again.” He smiled. “Gladly.” “And then,” Bea continued, glancing toward Rogue, “I'd very much like to kiss our hostess.” Rogue's eyebrows rose. “Oh, would you?” Bea laughed. “Very much.” “Then why are we still discussing it?” Bea kissed Gabriel first. Then turned toward Rogue. For an instant they simply looked at one another. Rogue had known a great many people. She'd met mercenaries, executives, politicians, criminals, and enough liars to fill a corporate boardroom several times over. But there was something particularly attractive about a woman who could meet her gaze without performing deference. Bea did exactly that. “May I?” Rogue smiled. “Please.” Their kiss was unhurried. Bea's hand rested against her shoulder. Rogue touched the side of her face, careful not to disturb the sharp line of the ice-blue hair. When they separated, Bea was smiling. “Oh.” Rogue laughed softly. “Oh?” “That was worth asking.” “I'm glad you approve.” “Enormously.” Gabriel smiled. Rogue turned toward him. “Well?” He laughed. “Well what?” “Still enjoying yourself?” “More than ever.” “Good.” She offered him her hand. “Come sit down before we spend the entire evening standing at the window.” They settled onto the sofa. Bea sat between them. At first, the arrangement produced a remarkable amount of laughter. Gabriel made the mistake of remarking that he'd never imagined his evening would take this turn. Rogue asked whether he wished to file a complaint. Bea volunteered to handle the paperwork. Gabriel insisted that the complaint would be entirely complimentary. Rogue demanded supporting evidence. Bea offered to gather it. By the time they'd finished, all three were laughing too hard to continue the joke. Then the laughter softened. Gabriel took Bea's hand. She turned toward him. He brushed his thumb lightly across her knuckles. “You really are extraordinary.” Bea's expression changed. “That's a dangerous compliment.” “Why?” “Because I might start believing you.” “I rather hope you do.” For a moment she was quiet. Then she leaned over and kissed him. Rogue watched with a small smile. Not detached. Not waiting for her turn. Simply enjoying the affection between two people she liked. When Bea drew back, Rogue touched her shoulder. Bea turned. Rogue smiled. “Hello, beautiful.” Bea laughed softly. “Hello, trouble.” “Stealing my lines?” “Improving them.” Rogue grinned. “Oh, you're asking for it.” “Am I?” “Absolutely.” Bea leaned closer. “Good.” Their next kiss was warmer. Rogue drew her into an embrace. Gabriel rested a hand gently against Bea's back, and she reached for him without needing to look. For a while they remained close, trading kisses, affectionate touches, and occasional laughter whenever one of them made an outrageous remark. It was comfortable. Easy. The sort of closeness that became possible when nobody was trying to impress anybody else. Eventually Rogue leaned back. Bea looked at her. “Something wrong?” “Not remotely.” “Then?” Rogue smiled. “I was thinking.” Gabriel laughed softly. “That sounds dangerous.” “Frequently.” Bea grinned. “About?” Rogue looked between them. “Suzy.” Bea's expression warmed. “Ah.” Gabriel smiled. “Your companion?” “Yes.” “The woman who greeted you so affectionately when I arrived?” “The very same.” He nodded. “You seem very happy together.” Rogue considered. “We are.” Bea touched her hand. “That's wonderful.” Rogue smiled. “And she's currently enjoying some time with Mandi.” Gabriel laughed. “An extraordinary woman.” “Which one?” Bea asked. He thought. “Both.” Rogue grinned. “Excellent answer.” Bea laughed. Then Rogue's expression softened. “You know what I like?” “What?” Bea asked. “Not having to pretend any of this is a problem.” Gabriel nodded. “I understand.” Bea smiled. “So do I.” Rogue looked toward the windows. Then back at them. “I've spent most of my life watching people turn affection into leverage.” Neither interrupted. “Who wants whom. Who owes whom. Who can use it against somebody.” Bea's expression grew thoughtful. “And tonight?” Rogue smiled. “Tonight I'd rather just enjoy the people I care about.” Gabriel raised her hand and kissed it. “A fine ambition.” Bea leaned against Rogue's shoulder. “Very fine.” Time moved differently in the suite. Not because the party had stopped. It hadn't. Music continued beyond the walls, distant enough to become atmosphere rather than interruption. But the three had found a rhythm of their own. Conversation. Laughter. Affection. Occasional silence. At one point Bea slipped off her shoes with an audible sigh. Rogue glanced down. “Trouble?” “Nothing tragic. My feet have simply filed a formal protest.” Gabriel laughed. “Reasonable.” Rogue looked at the shoes. “Expensive?” “Very.” “Worth it?” Bea considered. “Ask me tomorrow.” Rogue laughed. She moved one of the cushions behind Bea's back. “There.” Bea turned. “Thank you.” “Comfortable?” “Much.” Gabriel retrieved water for all three. They drank. Then settled together again. Bea looked from one to the other. “You know, this may be the first time tonight I've stopped wondering what everybody else is doing.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Curious?” “Always.” “And now?” Bea smiled. “Rather occupied.” Gabriel laughed. Rogue leaned closer. “Good.” She kissed Bea. Then drew Gabriel into another affectionate embrace. And for a while, the three simply enjoyed being together. The kisses grew slower and more deliberate. Rogue's hand settled at the nape of Bea's neck; Bea's fingers found the open collar of Gabriel's shirt. Gabriel answered by drawing both women closer, careful with his hands, as though he was still measuring how much room they wanted. Bea broke a kiss with Rogue to look at him. “You're thinking again.” “Occupational hazard.” “Stop,” she said, and kissed him. Rogue watched, amused, then leaned in and kissed the side of Bea's throat. Bea made a soft sound and tilted her head. Gabriel's hand moved to Rogue's waist. The three of them shifted until Bea was half in Rogue's lap and Gabriel was close enough that his knee pressed against both of them. “Clothes,” Bea announced. “Optional.” Rogue laughed against her skin. “Decisive.” “Practical.” They undressed in pieces. Gabriel's jacket first, then the buttons of his shirt under Bea's fingers. Rogue's dress loosened at the side; she helped Bea out of hers with a quiet efficiency that still left room for laughter when a strap caught. When the last layers were gone, the three of them settled on the wide sofa, skin to skin, the distant music and city lights the only company. Bea kissed down Rogue's chest, then looked up. “May I?” Rogue's hand rested in her ice-blue hair. “Please.” Bea took her time. Mouth and tongue, unhurried, while Gabriel watched and stroked Bea's back, then leaned down to kiss Rogue. Rogue's free hand found Gabriel's cock, already hard, and stroked him slowly while Bea worked between her thighs. The combination made Rogue's breath catch. She came with a low, surprised sound against Gabriel's mouth, hips lifting once, then settling. Bea kissed her way back up, smiling. “Your turn,” Rogue told her. Gabriel moved down. Bea spread her legs without ceremony and guided his head. He was thorough and attentive, licking her open, two fingers sliding inside once she was wet enough. Rogue watched, one hand on Bea's breast, the other resting on Gabriel's shoulder. Bea came with her head tipped back against the cushions and a soft laugh that turned into a moan, thighs tightening around Gabriel's ears. When she eased, she pulled him up and kissed him. “Now you.” Rogue and Bea together. Bea stroked him while Rogue kissed his throat and chest. When he was close, Bea took him into her mouth, slow and deep, while Rogue's fingers slipped between Bea's legs again. Gabriel's hand found Rogue's hair. He came with a rough exhale, hips jerking once, and Bea swallowed, then crawled up to kiss him. Rogue's fingers stayed where they were until Bea came a second time, quieter, pressed against both of them. They rearranged themselves afterward, limbs overlapping, none of them in a hurry to separate. Rogue's arm lay across Bea's waist. Gabriel's hand rested on Rogue's hip. The suite was warm. Outside, the party continued without them. Much later, Gabriel glanced toward the city. The lights had shifted as the evening deepened. Bea lay comfortably against the sofa cushions, ice-blue hair slightly tousled. Rogue was beside her, looking enormously satisfied with the way the evening had unfolded. Gabriel smiled. “Well.” Rogue turned. “Well?” “I believe your party has exceeded expectations.” Bea laughed. “Which expectations?” “All of them.” Rogue grinned. “Good.” He regarded her warmly. “Thank you.” “For what?” “Inviting me.” “Padre invited you.” “He did.” “Then thank Padre.” “I intend to.” Bea laughed. “Perhaps don't provide too much detail.” Gabriel considered. Then smiled. “An excellent suggestion.” Rogue shook her head. “Sebastian would probably laugh.” “He would,” Gabriel agreed. “And then give you some unexpectedly insightful advice.” “Also true.” Bea smiled. “I like him.” “Most people do,” Gabriel said. Rogue nodded. “He's earned it.” They sat together for another quiet moment. Then Bea looked at Rogue. “Something on your mind?” Rogue smiled. “Just thinking about the evening.” “Regretting anything?” “Not a damned thing.” Bea's expression warmed. “Good.” Gabriel reached for her hand. She took it. Rogue looked at them both. Then laughed softly. “What?” Bea asked. “Nothing.” “That expression is absolutely not nothing.” Rogue grinned. “I've just realized something.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I may have made it rather difficult for anybody else to throw a better party.” Bea burst out laughing. Gabriel smiled. “Wasn't that the idea?” Rogue considered. Then laughed too. “Oh, absolutely.” When they eventually returned to the reception area, the party was still in full swing. Rogue spotted Suzy almost immediately. She had returned from her own private adventure and was standing near the bar with Mandi. Mandi's neon-orange hair was slightly less immaculate than when she'd arrived. Suzy looked thoroughly pleased with herself. Rogue approached. Suzy turned. Their eyes met. A slow smile spread across her face. “Well, hello.” Rogue grinned. “Hello, darling.” Suzy looked at Bea. Then Gabriel. Then back at Rogue. Her smile widened. “Oh.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Suzy laughed. “Having fun?” “Immensely.” “Good.” She stepped closer and kissed Rogue warmly. Rogue returned it. When they separated, Suzy looked at Bea. “Sweetheart.” “Suzy.” They embraced. Then Suzy turned to Gabriel. “Enjoying the party?” He smiled. “More than I expected.” Suzy laughed. “That's becoming a popular answer.” Mandi appeared beside them. “ROGUE!” Rogue closed her eyes. “Oh, God.” Mandi pointed at her. “You!” “Yes?” “Have been having fun.” Rogue looked scandalized. “At my age?” Mandi nodded vigorously. “Disgraceful.” Suzy burst out laughing. Bea covered her mouth. Gabriel shook his head, smiling. Rogue looked at Mandi's hair. Then at her shoes. Then at Suzy. “And you?” Mandi placed a hand over her heart. “An absolute angel.” Suzy laughed so hard she had to lean against Rogue. Bea shook her head. “Oh, Mandi.” “What?” “Nobody believes you.” Mandi sighed. “This is becoming a recurring problem.” Rogue grinned. “Perhaps you should consider why.” Mandi looked thoughtful. Then smiled. “No.” Everybody laughed. Rogue caught Suzy's hand. For a moment they stood together, watching the room. The evening continued around them. Wakako and Panam were laughing. Anna had drawn another smile from Wade Bleecker. Birgitta and Daichi were still enjoying one another's company. And somewhere among the guests, a dozen more conversations were turning into possibilities nobody had anticipated when they'd arrived. Suzy leaned closer. “Happy?” Rogue looked at her. Then around the room. Then back. “Very.” “Good.” Rogue squeezed her hand. “And you?” Suzy smiled. “Darling.” “What?” “I think this may be one of your better ideas.” Rogue laughed. “High praise.” “Enormous.” Then Suzy kissed her cheek. “And the night's not over.” Rogue's grin returned. “No.” She looked toward the room again. “Not even close.” --- ## Chapter 18 — A Dangerous Kind of Understanding Wakako Okada had spent most of her adult life dealing with people who wanted something from her. Money. Protection. Influence. Access to someone else's money, protection, or influence. She was very good at recognizing which. Tonight, however, she had encountered a woman who appeared to want absolutely nothing from her. It was refreshing. It was also rather suspicious. “Tell me something, Panam.” Panam turned toward her. “Sure.” “Do you always speak to people this directly?” Panam laughed. “Usually.” “Even when you know who they are?” “Especially then.” Wakako smiled. “An interesting policy.” “Works for me.” “I imagine it causes difficulties.” “Oh, absolutely.” Panam took a sip of her drink. “Usually for people who expect me to give a shit about their titles.” Wakako laughed. A genuine laugh, warm enough to make Panam grin. “I see,” Wakako said. “And what about people who have earned their reputations?” Panam considered. “That depends.” “On?” “What they actually did to earn them.” Wakako regarded her for a moment. Then smiled. “Very good.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Was that a test?” “Perhaps.” “Did I pass?” “Would you care?” Panam laughed. “Fair point.” They were sitting near the windows, comfortably separated from the louder music. Night City glittered below them. Wakako had selected tea. Panam had tried the genuine vodka, enjoyed it considerably, and switched to water. Neither felt any particular need to explain her choice. For several minutes, they'd been talking about the city's changing balance of power. Not business. Not contracts. Simply the peculiar spectacle of watching people convince themselves that their influence would last forever. Wakako had a lifetime of observations to contribute. Panam had rather less patience for the people involved. “The problem with most corpos,” Panam said, “is that they've never had to fix anything with their own hands.” Wakako considered. “A generalization.” “Sure.” “And not always accurate.” “Also true.” “Yet you believe it.” “I believe enough of them mistake having money for knowing what they're doing.” Wakako nodded slowly. “That is considerably harder to dispute.” Panam leaned back. “Out in the Badlands, you can own the most expensive vehicle in existence. Doesn't mean a damn thing if you can't keep it running.” “Or if you have no one willing to help when it fails.” Panam looked at her. Wakako smiled. “Did you think I had forgotten the importance of family?” Something in Panam's expression changed. “No.” “Good.” She glanced toward the city. “People often assume that because I work in Night City, I must believe the city has the answers to everything.” “And?” “It has answers to many things. Often terrible answers.” Panam laughed. Wakako continued. “But family, loyalty, obligation—those existed long before these towers.” Panam nodded. “Yeah.” “And they will remain after the towers fall.” For a moment neither spoke. Then Panam smiled. “You know, I didn't expect to like you this much.” Wakako turned. Her eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Don't look so surprised.” “I believe I am entitled to a moment of surprise.” Panam laughed. “Fine. Have your moment.” Wakako studied her. “And why did you expect otherwise?” Panam considered. “Your reputation.” “Ah.” “People talk.” “They do.” “Usually because they want something or they're afraid of somebody who has it.” Wakako smiled faintly. “And now?” “Now I'm talking to you.” “Does that make a difference?” “Pretty fucking big one.” Wakako laughed. --- On the dance floor, Birgitta had discovered that Daichi was not merely tall. He was patient. This turned out to be considerably more interesting. Most men of his size made an effort to occupy less space around smaller companions. Daichi did that too, but without making a performance of gentleness. He simply adjusted. When Birgitta stepped closer, his hand found a comfortable position against her back. When she changed direction, he followed. When she laughed, he smiled. And when she deliberately made a sudden turn to see whether he could keep up, he did. “Oh!” Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Problem?” Birgitta laughed. “None whatsoever.” “You look surprised.” “I am.” “Disappointed?” “Hardly.” He smiled. “Good.” They continued dancing. Birgitta's muted copper-grey hair moved against her shoulders. The lights caught her very light brown eyes whenever she looked up at him. After a while, she tilted her head. “Daichi.” “Yes?” “Can I ask a terribly rude question?” He laughed. “Of course.” “Do you ever get tired of people talking about your size?” His smile changed. Not vanishing. Becoming more thoughtful. “Sometimes.” “I thought so.” “Usually when it's the only thing they can think of.” Birgitta nodded. “That must get boring.” “It can.” She considered him. Then smiled. “Well, good news.” “Oh?” “I've noticed several other things.” Daichi laughed. “Have you?” “Yes.” “Such as?” “You listen.” He waited. “You don't interrupt people merely because you've decided you know what they're going to say.” “Thank you.” “You're rather funny.” “I try.” “And you're a much better dancer than you pretended.” He laughed. “Ah.” Birgitta grinned. “There it is.” “What?” “The guilty expression.” He shook his head. “My aunt is going to like you.” Birgitta laughed. “I hope so.” Daichi studied her for a moment. “And you?” “What about me?” “Do you ever get tired of people making assumptions?” Birgitta's smile softened. “Frequently.” “About your appearance?” “About everything.” He nodded. She looked toward the windows, where Panam and Wakako were still talking. Then back. “Sometimes people decide who you are before you've had a chance to say a word.” Daichi smiled. “I know the feeling.” “Yes,” Birgitta said. “I rather thought you might.” They danced quietly for a little while. Then he asked, “And who are you, Birgitta?” She looked up. The question caught her attention precisely because it was so uncomplicated. Not who are you really? Not where did you come from? Simply an invitation to say something about herself. Birgitta considered. “Someone who likes being happy.” Daichi smiled. “That's a good beginning.” “And someone who's getting rather better at admitting what makes her happy.” “Such as?” She looked directly at him. “Dancing with attractive men who treat me like a person.” His laughter was immediate. “Well.” Birgitta grinned. “Well?” “I'd be a fool to complain.” “Exactly.” At the windows, Wakako had noticed the pair. She watched Daichi laugh. Then watched Birgitta smile up at him. “Your companion seems to be enjoying herself,” Wakako observed. Panam followed her gaze. Her expression warmed instantly. “She does.” “And so does my nephew.” “Good.” Wakako regarded her. “You're pleased.” “Of course.” “Some people might find that surprising.” Panam looked at her. “Why?” Wakako smiled. “You are rather obviously attached to Birgitta.” Panam laughed. “That's putting it mildly.” “Yet you're delighted to see her enjoying another man's company.” Panam considered the question. Then shrugged. “She's happy.” “Yes.” “She's making her own choices.” “Apparently.” “And Daichi seems like a decent man.” Wakako's expression softened. “He is.” “Then what's the problem?” Wakako looked toward the dance floor again. “There is none.” Panam grinned. “Exactly.” A small pause followed. Then Wakako said, “You have an unusual understanding of relationships.” Panam laughed. “Oh, you have no fucking idea.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.” Panam leaned back. “Let's put it this way. I've spent enough of my life with people who thought loyalty meant ownership.” Wakako listened. “Those aren't the same thing.” “No,” Wakako agreed. “They're not.” Panam took a drink of water. “I know Birgitta cares about me. She doesn't need to spend every second standing beside me to prove it.” “And you?” “I care about her enough to want her to enjoy herself.” Wakako regarded her thoughtfully. “An admirable distinction.” “It's not always easy.” “No worthwhile principle is.” Panam smiled. “Now that sounds like something Padre would say.” Wakako laughed. “Sebastian has his moments.” --- The next song ended. Daichi looked toward the bar. “Would you like something to drink?” “Water, please.” “Gladly.” Birgitta took his arm. They crossed the reception area together. As they passed the windows, Panam caught Birgitta's eye. Birgitta smiled. Then held up their joined hands with the delighted expression of someone presenting evidence of an excellent evening. Panam laughed. Wakako turned. Daichi inclined his head. “Auntie.” “Daichi.” “Enjoying yourselves?” “Very much.” Birgitta looked at Panam. “And you, Owner?” The word was soft and affectionate. Panam's expression warmed. “Very.” Wakako observed the exchange without comment. Daichi smiled. Panam reached for Birgitta's hand and drew her closer. “Having fun, sweetheart?” Birgitta nodded enthusiastically. “Enormously.” “Good.” Panam kissed her. Birgitta returned the kiss warmly, one hand resting against Panam's cheek. When they separated, Panam smiled. “Drink your water.” Birgitta laughed. “Yes, Owner.” Daichi chuckled. “Apparently everyone is being reminded to hydrate tonight.” Panam grinned. “You want to spend tomorrow miserable?” “No.” “Then drink.” “Yes, ma'am.” Wakako laughed. “Oh, I see why you like him.” Panam turned toward her. “Right?” Birgitta looked between them. Then laughed. “I feel terribly outnumbered.” “Good,” Panam said. “Owner!” “You're getting difficult.” “I'm getting thirsty.” Panam pointed toward the bar. “Then go.” Birgitta grinned. “Yes, Owner.” She took Daichi's hand again. And they continued toward the drinks. Wakako watched them go. Then turned toward Panam. “May I ask you something personal?” Panam raised an eyebrow. “You've been doing that for half an hour.” Wakako smiled. “Then perhaps one more won't offend you.” “Go ahead.” “Are you happy?” Panam stopped. It was such a simple question. And one she hadn't expected. For a moment she looked toward Birgitta, who was laughing at something Daichi had said to the bartender. Then toward Sera. The silver-white-haired artist sat near Padre and Nadia, listening with unmistakable delight as Nadia apparently challenged something the priest had said. Sera's hair lifted slightly. Nadia noticed. And smiled. Panam felt an answering warmth. Then she looked back at Wakako. “Yeah.” Wakako waited. Panam laughed softly. “Really fucking happy.” Wakako smiled. “Good.” Panam studied her. “And you?” Wakako looked amused. “My turn?” “Fair's fair.” She considered. “I have had a great deal of happiness in my life.” “That wasn't the question.” “No.” “Are you happy now?” Wakako looked toward the city. For several seconds, she said nothing. Panam let her think. Eventually Wakako smiled. “Tonight?” “Yes.” “Very.” Panam grinned. “Good.” Wakako turned toward her. “And perhaps,” she added, “more than I expected.” The music changed again. Something slower. Warm enough to invite dancing without demanding it. Wakako noticed. So did Panam. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Wakako set down her tea. “Panam.” “Yeah?” “Would you care to dance?” Panam stared. Just for a second. Then she laughed. “Seriously?” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Do I look unserious?” “No.” “Then?” Panam set down her water. “I'd love to.” Wakako smiled. “Excellent.” She rose. Panam offered her hand. Wakako took it. And the two women crossed toward the dance floor together. --- Rogue Amendiares noticed immediately. She had been discussing something with Regina when she looked up and saw Wakako approaching the floor with Panam. For a moment she simply stared. Then she began to smile. Regina followed her gaze. “Oh.” Rogue laughed softly. “Oh, indeed.” “That's unexpected.” “Isn't it?” Regina regarded them. Wakako was smiling. Panam was laughing. They looked remarkably comfortable together. “Do you think—” Rogue raised one hand. “Don't.” Regina turned. “What?” “Don't finish that sentence.” Regina laughed. “Why?” “Because I want to enjoy watching whatever happens without anybody trying to name it first.” Regina considered. Then smiled. “Fair.” They watched the two women begin to dance. And Rogue found herself thinking that perhaps she'd underestimated her own party. Not its guests. Never that. But the sheer number of ways people could surprise one another when given a little room. --- Panam hadn't expected Wakako to be a particularly enthusiastic dancer. She'd expected competence. Composure. Perhaps a little formality. She had not expected the older woman to smile so openly when the music began. Nor had she expected to find herself laughing within the first thirty seconds. “What?” Wakako asked. Panam shook her head. “Nothing.” “That expression is not nothing.” Panam laughed. “I'm just enjoying myself.” “As am I.” “You dance well.” “Thank you.” “Where'd you learn?” Wakako considered. “Many years ago.” “That's a suspicious answer.” “Is it?” “Very.” Wakako smiled. “Some things deserve a little mystery.” Panam grinned. “Fair.” They turned slowly. The room moved around them. Mandi and Suzy had reappeared near the bar. Rogue was speaking with Regina. Anna and Wade were deep in conversation again. And somewhere nearby, Birgitta was laughing with Daichi. Panam looked toward them. Then back at Wakako. “You know something?” “What?” “I've been having a fucking wonderful time talking to you.” Wakako's expression warmed. “Likewise.” “And I wasn't expecting that.” “We've established this.” Panam laughed. “Yeah.” Wakako regarded her. “Would you like to know what surprised me?” “Sure.” “You don't seem interested in impressing me.” Panam grinned. “Should I be?” “No.” “Good.” “And yet,” Wakako continued, “you have managed it rather thoroughly.” Panam stopped smiling for a moment. Then looked at her. “Well, shit.” Wakako laughed. “An eloquent response.” “Give me a second.” “Take your time.” Panam shook her head, grinning. “Goddammit, Wakako.” “Panam?” “I think you're flirting with me.” Wakako's smile became unmistakably mischievous. “Do you?” Panam laughed. “Oh, you absolutely are.” They continued dancing. A little closer now. Neither hurried the change. Wakako's hand rested lightly against Panam's shoulder. Panam held her comfortably. And for a while, they let the music carry the conversation. Then Wakako spoke. “Would that bother you?” Panam looked down at her. “What?” “Flirting.” Panam smiled. “Not remotely.” “Good.” A small pause. Then Panam added, “Would it bother you if I flirted back?” Wakako's eyes brightened. “My dear.” “What?” “I believe you've been doing precisely that for the last twenty minutes.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck me.” Wakako laughed with her. “Perhaps another time.” Panam nearly missed a step. Then looked at Wakako. The older woman's expression was perfectly composed. Except for the smile. That smile. Panam shook her head. “You are dangerous.” Wakako inclined her head. “An old reputation.” “An accurate one.” “Occasionally.” Panam laughed. Then drew her a little closer. “Well, I'm enjoying the danger.” Wakako smiled. “Good.” --- At the bar, Birgitta watched them. Daichi handed her another glass of water. She accepted it. Then looked toward the floor again. Her smile widened. Daichi followed her gaze. “My aunt.” “Mm-hmm.” “And Panam.” “Yes.” He considered them. “They seem happy.” Birgitta looked at him. “Very.” “Does that please you?” “Immensely.” Daichi smiled. “You really mean that.” “Of course.” He nodded. Then looked at her. “And are you happy?” Birgitta laughed softly. “Oh, Daichi.” “What?” “I've had a wonderful evening.” “So have I.” She smiled. “Good.” He hesitated. Then offered his hand. “Would you like another dance?” Birgitta looked at it. Then at him. Her expression softened. “Yes.” He smiled. “Gladly.” She took his hand. And together they returned to the floor. --- By the time the song ended, Panam and Wakako had stopped making any attempt to disguise how much they were enjoying one another. Nothing dramatic had happened. No sudden declaration. No spectacular gesture. Just a conversation that had become a dance, and a dance that had become something warmer. Wakako looked at Panam. “Thank you.” Panam smiled. “For?” “A lovely dance.” “Anytime.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Anytime?” Panam laughed. “Well, within reason.” “Ah. Negotiating already.” “Habit.” Wakako smiled. “I'm glad.” Panam studied her. Then said, “Would you like to spend a little more time together tonight?” Wakako's expression softened. “Very much.” “Good.” “Somewhere quieter?” Panam glanced toward the windows. Then toward the private corridor. Then back. A slow grin spread across her face. “Wakako.” “Yes?” “Are you asking me to join you in one of Rogue's suites?” Wakako considered. “Would you find that objectionable?” Panam laughed. “Not even slightly.” “Then perhaps I am.” Panam shook her head, smiling. “Goddammit.” Wakako laughed. “You seem to use that word frequently.” “Only when I'm impressed.” “Then I shall treasure it.” Panam glanced toward Birgitta. She stood with Daichi a little farther along the floor. When she noticed Panam watching, she smiled. Panam approached. Wakako accompanied her. Birgitta looked between them. Then smiled more broadly. “Hello, Owner.” “Hello, sweetheart.” Panam touched her cheek. “Having fun?” “Yes.” “Good.” Birgitta glanced at Wakako. “And you?” Wakako smiled. “Very much.” Panam grinned. “Wakako and I are going to spend a little time together.” Birgitta's expression brightened. “Oh!” Panam laughed. “That's your reaction?” “Yes!” “Just yes?” Birgitta considered. Then smiled. “Would you prefer applause?” Daichi laughed. Wakako covered her mouth. Panam shook her head. “You impossible girl.” Birgitta stepped closer and kissed her. Warmly. Affectionately. When they separated, she smiled. “Enjoy yourself, Owner.” Panam's expression softened. “You too.” “I intend to.” Panam glanced at Daichi. “Take good care of each other.” He nodded. “We will.” Birgitta looked offended. “Owner, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Panam grinned. “I know.” “Good.” “And I'm still allowed to say it.” Birgitta laughed. “Yes, Owner.” Wakako watched the exchange with quiet interest. Then Birgitta turned to her. “I hope you have a wonderful time.” Wakako smiled. “Thank you, my dear.” Birgitta's grin widened. “Oh, I think you will.” Panam groaned. “Birgitta.” “What?” “Behave.” Birgitta's laughter was immediate. “Absolutely not.” --- Rogue saw Panam and Wakako approach the private corridor. She was standing with Suzy near the bar. Suzy followed her gaze. Then smiled slowly. “Well.” Rogue laughed. “Well indeed.” “Did you see that coming?” “No.” Suzy turned toward her. “Really?” “Not quite like this.” Suzy grinned. “Good.” Rogue looked at her. “Why good?” “Because you needed a surprise of your own.” Rogue laughed. “Fair.” They watched the two women disappear toward the suites. Then Rogue looked back across the room. Birgitta was dancing with Daichi. Anna and Wade were laughing together. Sera and Nadia remained near Padre, apparently having discovered a conversational topic none of them intended to abandon. Deja and Saskia were returning from the private corridor with Dalia between them, all three looking exceptionally pleased with themselves. Mandi was speaking animatedly with Dino. Tomas listened nearby. And Bea had joined Gabriel at the refreshment counter. Rogue smiled. Suzy slipped an arm around her waist. “Happy?” Rogue considered the room. Then looked at the woman beside her. “Very.” Suzy smiled. “Good.” Rogue kissed her cheek. “And you?” Suzy laughed softly. “Darling, your guests have barely begun causing trouble.” Rogue grinned. “Excellent.” And somewhere beyond the reception area's quieter corridor, a private door closed behind Wakako Okada and Panam Palmer. The evening continued. And Rogue Amendiares was having the time of her life. --- ## Chapter 19 — The Trouble with Powerful Women Wakako Okada closed the suite door behind them. Panam looked around. Then she whistled. “Jesus Christ.” Wakako smiled. “An impressive room.” “Impressive? You could park half a nomad convoy in here.” “I suspect Rogue would object.” “Only if we scratched the furniture.” Wakako laughed. It was becoming a remarkably familiar sound. Panam liked it. That realization was still surprising enough to make her smile. The suite was beautiful, of course. Every room Rogue had arranged seemed designed to make wealthy people feel that their money had finally purchased something worthwhile. But Panam had spent enough time around extravagant surroundings to stop being impressed by expensive furniture for its own sake. What interested her was the woman standing beside the door. Wakako studied her with open amusement. “Something on your mind?” “Yeah.” “Would you care to share?” Panam turned toward her. “I think you're enjoying surprising me.” “Very much.” “Figures.” “Does it bother you?” “Hell, no.” Wakako smiled. “Good.” Panam crossed toward the windows. The city sprawled below them, towers glittering against the dark. She felt Wakako approach. Not crowding her. Simply coming close enough to share the view. “For a woman who spends her life controlling information,” Panam said, “you've been pretty damn direct tonight.” Wakako considered. “Perhaps I find directness refreshing.” “From me?” “Especially from you.” Panam laughed softly. “Well, shit.” Wakako's smile widened. “You keep saying that.” “You keep earning it.” For a while they stood together. The party's music reached them as a distant pulse through the walls. Panam glanced toward Wakako. “You really weren't expecting this either, were you?” “No.” The answer came without hesitation. Panam raised an eyebrow. “That's unusually honest.” Wakako looked amused. “Would you prefer a carefully constructed lie?” “Not particularly.” “Then no. When I accepted Rogue's invitation, I expected a pleasant evening, a few familiar faces, and perhaps an interesting conversation.” “And instead?” Wakako turned toward her. “Instead, I met a woman who asked me whether I was happy.” Panam smiled. “You asked first.” “I did.” “Seemed fair.” “It was.” Wakako regarded her thoughtfully. “You realize most people who meet me are more concerned with discovering whether I approve of them?” “Sounds exhausting.” “It is.” “Then stop making it so easy for them.” Wakako blinked. Then laughed. “Panam!” “What?” “Do you have any idea how many people would be terrified to say that to me?” “Probably a lot.” “And?” Panam shrugged. “I'm not one of them.” Wakako looked at her for several seconds. Then smiled. “No,” she said quietly. “You most certainly are not.” Panam turned fully toward her. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Are we going to keep having this incredibly interesting conversation all night?” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Would that disappoint you?” “No.” “Then?” Panam grinned. “But I'd also really like to kiss you.” Wakako went still. Not with alarm. With unmistakable pleasure. Then her expression softened. “My dear Panam.” “What?” “You might have asked twenty minutes ago.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, you sneaky—” Wakako stepped closer. “May I?” Panam's grin became something warmer. “Please.” Their first kiss was gentle. Wakako's hand rested against Panam's cheek. Panam touched her waist, then drew her a little closer when Wakako returned the embrace. Neither rushed. When they separated, Panam looked almost astonished. “Well.” Wakako smiled. “Well?” “Fuck.” Wakako laughed. “Should I be offended?” “No.” “Good.” “I'm trying to find a compliment.” “Take your time.” Panam shook her head. “You're impossible.” “Occasionally.” “And that was—” She stopped. Then smiled. “Really damn good.” Wakako's expression warmed. “Thank you.” Panam leaned closer. “And I'd like another.” Wakako answered by kissing her. Wakako was accustomed to people trying to anticipate what she wanted. It came with her position. People watched her smallest gestures for signs of approval or displeasure. They searched her words for hidden instructions. Panam did none of that. When she wanted to touch Wakako's cheek, she did. When she wanted to laugh, she laughed. And when she drew back from a kiss, she looked Wakako directly in the eyes. No calculation. No performance. Only the evident pleasure of discovering someone unexpected. Wakako found it deeply attractive. “You're thinking again,” Panam murmured. “Yes.” “Anything I should know?” Wakako smiled. “I was thinking how pleasant it is to be wanted without being pursued for what I can provide.” Panam's expression changed. Something gentler appeared beneath the humor. “Wakako.” “Yes?” “I'm not looking for a fixer.” “I know.” “Good.” Panam touched her hand. “I'm here because I like you.” Wakako looked at their joined hands. Then back at her. “An unexpectedly wonderful reason.” Panam grinned. “Also, you're a hell of a kisser.” Wakako laughed. “And there goes the poetry.” “Never claimed to be a poet.” “Clearly.” Panam leaned in again. Wakako welcomed her. They eventually moved to the sofa. Not because the moment had lost its momentum. Because Wakako looked at the elaborate high-heeled shoes she had worn for the evening and made a decision. “These,” she announced, “have served their purpose.” Panam watched her remove them. Then laughed. “Oh, I know that look.” “Do you?” “Worn some spectacularly stupid footwear myself.” “Have you?” “Once or twice.” Wakako looked skeptical. Panam grinned. “Don't spread that around.” “Your secret is safe.” “Good.” Wakako settled beside her. Panam offered an arm. Wakako considered it for a moment, then accepted, moving comfortably against her. The gesture was surprisingly intimate. Not more dramatic than their kisses. Simply quieter. Wakako rested against Panam's shoulder. Panam glanced down. “Comfortable?” “Very.” “Good.” They sat together, looking out over the city. Eventually Wakako spoke. “Tell me about the people you love.” Panam smiled. “Oh, that's a long story.” “We have time.” “Yeah. We do.” She began with the Badlands. Not a rehearsed account of the Aldecaldos. Not a list of names and loyalties. She talked about the peculiar experience of growing up among people who could infuriate you beyond reason and still be the first to appear when you needed help. About the noise of a convoy. About somebody always borrowing a tool and never returning it. About meals that started with five people and somehow ended with twenty. Wakako listened. Panam wasn't accustomed to telling stories without somebody interrupting to offer advice. Wakako didn't. When she asked questions, they were thoughtful ones. What had Panam missed most when she left? What had brought her back? What had finally convinced her that family didn't have to mean surrendering her independence? Panam answered as honestly as she could. Then she spoke of the life she'd built since. Of Sera, whose imagination seemed capable of turning any ordinary day into an impossible adventure. Of Nadia, who had arrived in Night City with the courage to start over and somehow made Panam feel as though the world had gained another color. And of Birgitta. Wakako smiled at the name. “She seems very dear to you.” “She is.” “And very happy.” Panam's expression softened. “That's what matters.” Wakako regarded her. “You take caring for people seriously.” Panam laughed. “Someone has to make sure they eat.” “Is that your definition of romance?” “Part of it.” Wakako smiled. “Practical.” “Damn right.” “And the rest?” Panam considered. “Making sure people know they're wanted. Not just useful.” For once, Wakako had no immediate reply. Panam looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That is absolutely not nothing.” Wakako smiled. “I was thinking that we may understand one another better than I expected.” Panam leaned closer. “Yeah?” “Yes.” “Good.” She kissed her. Wakako smiled against her mouth. When they separated, Wakako touched Panam's cheek. “May I tell you something?” “Always.” “I haven't allowed myself an evening like this in a very long time.” Panam listened. Wakako continued. “Not because I haven't had opportunities.” “I believe that.” “Because most opportunities come wrapped in complications.” “People wanting things.” “Usually.” Panam nodded. “And tonight?” Wakako smiled. “Tonight, I would like to stop worrying about what someone might ask of me tomorrow.” Panam regarded her. Then took her hand. “Then don't.” Wakako laughed quietly. “You make it sound very simple.” “Doesn't mean it's always easy.” “No.” “But you don't owe me anything.” Wakako's expression softened. Panam continued. “You can enjoy tonight. Tomorrow we can decide whether we want coffee, another dance, or nothing at all.” Wakako smiled. “And which would you prefer?” Panam grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.” Wakako laughed. Then she drew Panam toward her for another kiss. This one lingered. They settled into the sofa's cushions, the city spread beyond the glass, discovering how pleasant it was to be close without having to explain themselves. --- Elsewhere, at the bar, Rogue Amendiares was discovering that her reputation for omniscience had suffered a serious blow. Suzy Q was thoroughly enjoying it. “Admit it.” Rogue looked at her. “Admit what?” “You didn't see Wakako and Panam coming.” “I saw the possibility.” “Bullshit.” Rogue laughed. Suzy grinned. “You didn't.” “Not until they started dancing.” “Aha!” “Don't look so pleased with yourself.” “Darling, I live for these moments.” Rogue shook her head. Suzy leaned against the counter. “You know what I like?” “Enlighten me.” “Wakako looked happy.” Rogue considered. “Yes.” “Not merely satisfied. Not politically entertained. Happy.” Rogue looked toward the private corridor. Then smiled. “Yeah.” Suzy's expression warmed. “It's rather nice.” “It is.” For a moment they watched the party together. Then Rogue glanced at Suzy. “You look happy too.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn't I?” “Very.” “Then stop interrogating me.” Rogue laughed. Suzy leaned closer. “And for the record, Mandi is every bit as impossible as you warned me.” Rogue's grin widened. “Oh?” “Absolutely.” “Terrible company?” “Appalling.” “An ordeal?” “Unbearable.” Rogue laughed. Suzy smiled. “I'd happily spend another evening with her.” “Of course you would.” “Jealous?” Rogue considered. Then shook her head. “Not of Mandi.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I'm jealous of her shoes.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Rogue!” “Have you seen them?” “Of course I've seen them!” “The little menace has better footwear than most corporate executives.” Suzy was laughing too hard to answer. --- Across the room, Mandi had discovered that Dino Dinovic was a spectacularly rewarding man to tease. His friend Tomas was even worse. Or better. Depending on one's definition. “So,” Mandi announced, planting herself between them at the bar, “which one of you is the bad influence?” Dino pointed at Tomas. Tomas pointed at Dino. Mandi looked from one to the other. Then grinned. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Dino laughed. “Something tells me you're the bad influence.” Mandi placed a hand over her heart. “Me?” “Yes.” “I'm a model of restraint.” Tomas looked at her screaming neon-orange hair. Then at the shoes. Then at the mischievous expression. “Restraint?” “Professionally certified.” Dino laughed. “By whom?” “Me.” “Ah.” “Strict standards.” Tomas grinned. “I'm sure.” Mandi climbed onto a barstool. Her heels caught the light. Dino looked down at them. “Those are impressive.” Mandi beamed. “THANK YOU!” Tomas laughed. Dino shook his head. “You really love shoes.” “Darling, shoes are civilization.” “Are they?” “Absolutely. Without good shoes, society collapses.” Tomas considered. “That's an interesting political theory.” Mandi nodded gravely. “I have a manifesto.” Dino laughed. “Of course you do.” Mandi leaned toward him. “And tonight, gentlemen, I'm conducting field research.” Tomas raised an eyebrow. “Into?” “Whether two very handsome men can survive an evening in my company.” Dino grinned. “I like our chances.” Mandi's black-contact eyes widened theatrically. “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “That's exactly what the last optimist said.” --- Dalia appeared at the edge of the group a little later. Her neonpink dreadlocks spilled over one shoulder. The reflective green of her eyes caught the bar lights, and the menthol lollipop between her lips gave her expression an air of calculated insolence. Mandi spotted her immediately. “DALLY!” Dalia turned. “Christ, Mandi. Half the city heard you.” “GOOD!” Dino laughed. Dalia approached, accompanied by Deja and Saskia. Deja's dark venom-green hair looked almost black in the dimmer light, and her ivory ensemble remained remarkably composed for someone who had spent a substantial portion of the evening enjoying the company of two very enthusiastic women. Saskia looked considerably less interested in concealing her good mood. Mandi regarded the three of them. Then smiled slowly. “Oh.” Dalia narrowed her eyes. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “Was not.” “Liar.” Mandi gasped. “Such language.” Deja laughed. “She's got you there.” Mandi looked at her. “Traitor.” “Frequently,” Deja replied. Saskia shook her head, smiling. Dino watched them with undisguised amusement. Tomas leaned toward him. “I'm beginning to understand why Rogue invited them.” Dalia glanced at him. “Darling, you haven't seen a fucking thing yet.” Mandi burst out laughing. --- A little farther down the bar, Regina Jones had been listening. Her cousin Adrian stood beside her. She'd spent the evening observing the extraordinary women Rogue had gathered. It wasn't their beauty that intrigued her most. Night City had never lacked attractive people. It was their ease with one another. They appeared to move through the evening without the constant calculations that dominated so much of Regina's professional life. Even when they teased, it was affectionate. Even when they disagreed, nobody seemed interested in scoring a victory. And every now and then, one of them would say something so wonderfully outrageous that Regina found herself laughing before she could stop. Adrian followed her gaze. “Interested?” Regina smiled. “Very.” “In which one?” She considered the question. Then looked at Dalia. The neonpink dreadlocks. The impossible green eyes. The directness. The way she could dismiss Mandi's latest absurdity with three words and a look. “Her,” Regina said. Adrian smiled. “Dalia?” “Yes.” “She seems quite a character.” Regina laughed. “That's putting it mildly.” “Going to say hello?” Regina studied the group. Dalia was laughing at something Deja had whispered. Then Saskia touched her arm. Dalia turned, her expression becoming unexpectedly warm. Regina noticed. She smiled. “Perhaps.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps?” “I'd rather not interrupt.” He looked at her. Then grinned. “Regina Jones, exercising patience?” “Don't spread it around.” --- Back in the private suite, Wakako had grown comfortably quiet. Panam rested beside her, one arm around her shoulders. Their conversation had wandered through families, old grudges, foolish business decisions, and the unpredictable ways people found happiness. At some point Wakako had begun laughing at a story involving a convoy, an enormous pot of stew, and a mechanic who had mistakenly seasoned dinner with a substance meant for cleaning machinery. Panam had been halfway through explaining the consequences when Wakako touched her hand. “Panam.” “Yeah?” “Come here.” Panam smiled. “I'm right here.” “Closer.” That grin returned. “Yes, ma'am.” Wakako laughed. Then kissed her. Panam answered with unmistakable affection. When they separated, Wakako studied her. “You know, there is something very appealing about a woman who isn't impressed by power.” Panam smiled. “Power's useful.” “Yes.” “Doesn't make somebody interesting.” “And what does?” Panam considered. Then touched Wakako's cheek. “This.” Wakako's expression softened. “An unexpectedly good answer.” “Don't tell anybody. I've got a reputation.” Wakako laughed. “Your secret is safe.” Panam kissed her again. Then settled comfortably beside her. Neither had any desire to hurry back to the party. For once, Wakako Okada was not receiving urgent messages, managing somebody else's crisis, or deciding which difficult person deserved her attention. She was simply enjoying an evening with a woman who made her laugh. And Panam Palmer, who had expected almost anything from Rogue's party except this, was very happy indeed. At the bar, Rogue watched Regina begin moving toward Dalia's group. She smiled. Suzy followed her gaze. “Oh, there's another one.” Rogue laughed. “Another what?” “Unexpected conversation.” “Regina?” “Mm-hmm.” “And Dalia?” “Looks like it.” Rogue considered. Then grinned. “That could be interesting.” Suzy laughed. “Darling, your definition of interesting is becoming increasingly expensive.” “Worth every eddie.” Suzy slipped her hand into Rogue's. For a moment they stood together. Then she looked around the room. “Do you know what the best part is?” Rogue turned. “What?” “Nobody here is pretending to have a miserable time just to look important.” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Yeah.” “It's rather wonderful.” “It is.” Suzy leaned closer. “Now, what are you planning next?” Rogue's grin became dangerous. “Something.” “Oh, God.” “What?” “That expression.” “Which expression?” “The one that usually precedes trouble.” Rogue laughed. “Darling, I invited eight fixers and eleven extraordinary women to the same room.” Suzy smiled. “Yes?” “Trouble was the entire point.” And across the bar, Regina Jones finally approached Dalia. “May I join you?” Dalia turned. Looked at her. Then smiled slowly around her menthol lollipop. “Well, well.” Regina raised an eyebrow. Dalia removed the lollipop. “Regina Jones.” “In person.” Dalia's smile widened. “Darling, I was wondering when you'd come over.” Regina laughed. “Were you?” “Oh, absolutely.” She gestured toward the empty space beside her. “Come on. We don't bite.” Mandi made an offended noise. “Speak for yourself!” Dino burst out laughing. Tomas nearly spilled his drink. Regina grinned. Dalia closed her eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Mandi.” Mandi beamed. “YOU LOVE ME!” Dalia sighed. “Unfortunately.” And Regina Jones decided she was going to enjoy this conversation very much. --- ## Chapter 20 — The Trouble with Asking Nicely Regina Jones took one look at Mandi's enormous grin and decided that whatever happened next, she was going to enjoy herself. “Do I want to know what I've interrupted?” Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. “Darling, you haven't interrupted anything.” “Really?” “You've improved it.” Regina laughed. “That's a promising beginning.” Mandi leaned across the counter. “She's been watching you.” Dalia turned slowly. “Mandi.” “What?” “Shut up.” “SEE?” Dino burst out laughing. Tomas covered his mouth. Regina raised an eyebrow. “Has she?” Mandi nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. She noticed you ages ago.” Dalia sighed. “I'm going to murder her.” Mandi beamed. “Promises, promises.” Regina looked at Dalia. The neonpink dreadlocks were gathered over one shoulder, their extraordinary color almost luminous beneath the bar lighting. Her emerald-reflective eyes gave away very little, but the amused curve of her mouth suggested she wasn't nearly as irritated as she pretended. “So,” Regina said, “you noticed me.” Dalia met her gaze. “Of course.” “Why didn't you come over?” “Because you were busy.” “Considerate.” “Occasionally.” “And now?” Dalia smiled. “Now you're here.” Regina returned the smile. “Yes. I am.” For the first time since the conversation began, Mandi remained silent. It lasted approximately three seconds. “Oh, I LIKE this.” Dalia pointed her lollipop at her. “One more word.” Mandi raised both hands. “Not a word.” Dino leaned toward Tomas. “Five eddies says she doesn't last a minute.” “Not taking that bet.” Mandi looked offended. “YOU TWO!” Everyone laughed. --- Regina had expected flirtation. Rogue hadn't exactly been subtle about the nature of the evening, and Regina had enough experience to recognize interest when she encountered it. What she hadn't expected was to find herself enjoying the woman's conversation quite so quickly. Dalia was outrageous, certainly. But she was also observant. When Regina mentioned an investigation that had dragged on for months, Dalia didn't ask for confidential details or pretend to know more than she did. Instead, she asked what had kept Regina interested when the work became tedious. It was a surprisingly good question. “Someone had to keep going,” Regina answered. Dalia nodded. “That's usually the part nobody applauds.” Regina regarded her. “No. It isn't.” “People love the dramatic finish. Nobody wants to hear about the six hundred boring little things you had to get right first.” Regina smiled. “You sound as though you've dealt with that yourself.” Dalia's mouth curved. “Let's say I've known a few people who thought competence happened by magic.” Deja laughed quietly beside her. “Oh, that's putting it kindly.” Regina turned toward the woman in ivory. “You agree?” “Entirely.” Deja's dark venom-green hair caught a sliver of light as she tilted her head. Her warm amber-brown eyes contrasted with the sharp amusement in her expression. “Dalia has a talent for noticing the details that other people prefer to ignore.” Dalia glanced at her. “Careful, sweetheart. You'll ruin my reputation.” “What reputation?” “The one where I'm a terrible influence.” Deja smiled. “That one's safe.” Saskia laughed. Regina looked between them. “You know one another well.” Deja nodded. “Very.” “And you aren't afraid to tell her when she's being impossible?” Saskia grinned. “Apparently nobody is.” Dalia looked toward the ceiling. “I'm surrounded by traitors.” Mandi leaned in. “HOT traitors!” Dalia pointed at her without looking. “I heard that.” “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO!” Adrian approached with two fresh glasses of water. He handed one to Regina. “Thought you might want this.” “Thanks.” Then he looked around the group. “I see you've made friends.” Mandi turned toward him. “Oh, hello.” Adrian smiled. “Hello.” She looked him up and down with theatrical approval. “Another handsome man. Rogue really doesn't understand the concept of moderation.” Dino laughed. Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Should I introduce myself?” Mandi offered her hand. “Mandi.” “Adrian.” He shook it. She regarded him seriously. “Very important question.” “Go ahead.” “Can you dance?” “Reasonably.” Mandi narrowed her black-contact eyes. “Suspicious answer.” “Would you prefer unreasonable confidence?” “YES!” Adrian laughed. “Well, then. I'm magnificent.” Mandi clapped her hands. “OH, I LIKE HIM!” Dino shook his head. “Get in line.” Tomas smiled. “There's a line?” Mandi looked horrified. “Gentlemen! I'm not running a ticket counter!” Dalia muttered, “Yet.” The group dissolved into laughter. Regina took a drink of water, watching Dalia with increasing delight. She was beginning to understand how the woman operated. Mandi was a magnificent distraction. But Dalia was the one quietly keeping track of everything. Saskia touched Deja's arm. “Dance?” Deja smiled. “Again?” “Unless you're tired.” “Not remotely.” Dalia turned toward them. “Go on, you two.” Deja gave her a questioning look. “Sure?” Dalia's expression softened. “Of course.” Deja leaned close enough to murmur something Regina couldn't hear. Dalia laughed. “Cheeky bitch.” Deja smiled. “You adore me.” “Unfortunately.” They exchanged a brief, familiar look before Deja took Saskia's hand. Then the two women headed for the dance floor. Regina watched them go. “Something tells me those two are trouble.” Dalia smiled around her lollipop. “Only the best kind.” Regina turned back. “And you?” “Me?” “Are you trouble?” Dalia considered. Then smiled slowly. “Regina, darling. I'm a fucking catastrophe.” Regina burst out laughing. “Good.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Good?” “I've had a very orderly week.” “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “That sounds like a medical emergency.” --- Dino leaned closer to Tomas. “I'm beginning to think we've become decorative.” Tomas smiled. “We've been decorative for years.” Mandi turned toward them. “Not true!” Dino looked hopeful. “No?” “You're also excellent entertainment.” “Wonderful.” “And,” Mandi added, leaning closer, “I haven't forgotten you.” Tomas raised an eyebrow. “That's reassuring.” “Should be.” She glanced toward Dalia and Regina. Then back at the men. “But I think those two need a little room.” Dino followed her gaze. Dalia was listening to something Regina had said. The conversation had become quieter. More focused. He nodded. “Fair.” Mandi grinned. “Excellent. Gentlemen?” Tomas smiled. “Yes?” “Come dance with me.” Dino laughed. “Both of us?” “Unless one of you has suddenly lost the use of his legs.” “Not yet.” “Then MOVE!” Mandi hopped off the barstool. Her extraordinary shoes landed with a confident click. She caught Dino's hand, offered the other to Tomas, and marched toward the floor. Tomas looked back over his shoulder. “Should we call for help?” Dalia waved her lollipop. “Too late.” Regina watched them disappear. Then shook her head, laughing. “Is she always like that?” Dalia smiled. “On quiet evenings, she's worse.” Regina laughed again. They stood together at the bar for a moment. The music moved around them. Regina glanced toward the city beyond the windows. “You know, I wasn't sure I should come tonight.” Dalia turned. “Why?” “Rogue's invitation was unusual.” “That's putting it mildly.” “Eight fixers, each bringing someone, and eleven women none of us had met in quite this setting.” Dalia nodded. “Interesting experiment.” “Yes.” “What worried you?” Regina considered. “That it might be awkward.” Dalia smiled. “Has it been?” “Not remotely.” “Good.” Regina looked at her. “And I wasn't expecting to meet someone who could make me laugh and understand exactly what I meant when I talked about work.” Dalia's expression changed. Not dramatically. Just enough for Regina to notice. “Darling,” Dalia said, “you'd be surprised how many of us know what it's like to do difficult work while everyone else assumes it's easy.” Regina nodded. “Yes. I suppose I would.” Dalia regarded her. Then returned the lollipop to her mouth. “Anyway. Enough serious talk.” Regina smiled. “Oh?” “I want to know something.” “Go ahead.” “Do you ever do anything spectacularly irresponsible?” Regina stared. Then laughed. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” “Occasionally.” “Define occasionally.” Regina considered. “Less often than I'd like.” Dalia's smile widened. “Oh, that is a terrible answer.” “Why?” “Because now I have ideas.” Regina studied her. Then set down her glass. “Let me ask you something instead.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Go on.” “You've been flirting with me since I walked over.” “Guilty.” “Very effectively.” “Thank you.” “And I find you extraordinarily attractive.” Dalia's smile softened. “That's mutual.” Regina took a small step closer. “Then why are we standing here pretending this is only a conversation?” Dalia regarded her for a moment. Then laughed softly. “Well, fuck.” Regina smiled. “Too direct?” “Darling, I think I just fell a little bit in love with your negotiating style.” Regina grinned. “Excellent.” Dalia glanced toward the dance floor. Then back. “May I kiss you?” Regina smiled. “Yes.” Dalia slipped the lollipop into its wrapper, set it on the counter, and stepped closer. Her hand rested against Regina's waist. Regina touched her shoulder. Their kiss was warm, unhurried, and entirely free of theatrical performance. When they separated, Regina was smiling. “Oh.” Dalia laughed softly. “Oh?” “That was worth coming over for.” “Sweetheart, we've barely started talking.” Regina's smile widened. “I was hoping you'd say that.” They danced next. Regina hadn't expected Dalia to be quite so graceful. The thigh-high boots looked spectacular, but she had assumed they were chosen primarily for effect. She discovered otherwise almost immediately. Dalia moved with the effortless confidence of someone who understood exactly where her body was in relation to the music. And where Regina was. And how close she could bring them without making either woman uncomfortable. Regina laughed as Dalia turned her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That expression isn't nothing.” “I was thinking your boots are ridiculous.” Dalia looked offended. “Regina!” “Beautiful. But ridiculous.” “Sacrilege.” “And somehow you're dancing in them as though they weigh nothing.” Dalia grinned. “Practice.” “I can see that.” They turned together. Then Regina stepped closer. Dalia's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” Regina smiled. “Your turn to be surprised.” Dalia laughed. “I'm listening.” Regina kissed her. Briefly. Deliberately. Dalia's eyes widened. Then she grinned. “Okay.” “Okay?” “Now you're showing off.” Regina laughed. “Perhaps.” “Good.” Across the floor, Deja noticed. She smiled. Saskia followed her gaze. “Dalia?” “Yes.” “And Regina.” “Looks like it.” Saskia considered them. “They suit each other.” Deja laughed. “Do they?” “Both appear to enjoy making people work for an answer.” “Oh, Dalia doesn't make people work for answers.” “No?” “She makes them work for the right questions.” Saskia smiled. “That's a distinction.” “A very important one.” They danced a little longer. Then Saskia asked, “Do you mind?” Deja looked at her. “Mind what?” “Seeing her with Regina?” Deja's expression softened. “No.” Saskia waited. Deja smiled. “I like seeing people I care about happy.” Saskia nodded. “That's rather lovely.” Deja laughed. “Don't tell Dalia I said anything sentimental.” “Why?” “She'll be unbearable.” Saskia grinned. “I think she already is.” Deja kissed her. Saskia smiled against her lips. Then laughed when they separated. “Very convincing argument.” “I'm a talented negotiator.” “I've noticed.” --- Regina and Dalia eventually returned to the bar. Adrian was waiting nearby. He took one look at Regina's expression and smiled. “Well?” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Well what?” “Enjoying yourself?” “Very.” “Good.” Dalia regarded him. “Your cousin asks suspiciously innocent questions.” Adrian laughed. “She knows me.” Regina shook her head. “He's been trying to embarrass me since we were children.” “Family tradition,” Adrian explained. Dalia nodded solemnly. “An important cultural institution.” Regina laughed. “Don't encourage him.” “Oh, sweetheart. I'm going to encourage him enormously.” Adrian grinned. “I like her.” Regina sighed. “Of course you do.” Dalia turned toward him. “Adrian.” “Yes?” “Can I ask you something?” “Certainly.” “Are you as charming as your cousin?” Regina stared. Adrian laughed. “That depends.” “On?” “Whether you're asking professionally.” Dalia's smile widened. “Oh, you're definitely related.” Regina shook her head. “God help me.” Dalia slipped an arm companionably around her waist. “Darling, I think we're well past that.” Adrian's humor was different from Regina's. Where Regina could be dry and incisive, Adrian preferred to let a conversation develop until he could puncture it with a perfectly timed observation. Dalia discovered she enjoyed both. They talked for a while. About the party. About Rogue. About how strange it was to see Night City's most guarded people laughing openly in a room full of potential rivals. Regina eventually leaned against the bar. “I'm beginning to think Rogue planned more than an entertaining evening.” Dalia looked at her. “Oh?” “Look around.” Dalia did. Wakako and Panam were absent. Mr. Hands and Anna had settled into a quiet conversation near the windows. Birgitta and Daichi were dancing again. Mandi had somehow convinced Dino and Tomas to attempt a maneuver that looked certain to end in either spectacular success or minor injury. Dalia laughed. Regina continued. “People are talking to each other.” “Yes.” “Really talking. Without immediately wondering what advantage they can gain.” Dalia nodded. “It's unusual.” “Very.” Adrian smiled. “Maybe that's the point.” Dalia turned toward him. “What?” “Give people somewhere they don't have to be on guard every second.” Regina considered. Then nodded slowly. “Maybe.” Dalia smiled. “Rogue's not stupid.” “No,” Regina agreed. “She most certainly isn't.” After a while, Adrian looked toward the dance floor. “Regina.” “Yes?” “May I borrow your charming new acquaintance for a dance?” Regina raised an eyebrow. Dalia turned toward him. “Oh?” Adrian smiled. “Unless she'd rather stay here.” Dalia considered. Then looked at Regina. “Well?” Regina laughed. “Why are you asking me?” “Because you're standing beside me looking dangerously interested.” Regina shook her head. “Go dance.” Dalia grinned. “Excellent.” Adrian offered his hand. She accepted. And the two moved toward the floor. Regina watched them with considerable amusement. Then someone spoke beside her. “Having fun?” She turned. Rogue. Regina laughed. “Enormously.” “Good.” “Was this your plan?” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “What plan?” Regina gestured toward Dalia. Toward Adrian. Toward the room. “This.” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Not specifically.” Regina laughed. “Of course not.” “I invited interesting people.” “And hoped they'd entertain one another?” “Something like that.” Regina studied her. “You're enjoying this.” Rogue grinned. “More than you know.” Dalia and Adrian were midway through a dance when he spoke. “May I ask you a personal question?” Dalia smiled. “Depends how personal.” “Are you enjoying Regina's company?” She laughed. “Very.” “Good.” “You're protective of her.” Adrian considered. “She's family.” “Not the same thing.” “No.” Dalia waited. He smiled. “I suppose I am.” “That's sweet.” He laughed. “Don't tell her.” “Oh, darling, I absolutely will.” “Cruel.” “Professionally.” They danced a little longer. Then Adrian said, “She works too much.” Dalia's expression softened. “So I've gathered.” “She forgets there's a world outside her investigations.” “I noticed she was pretty damn good at enjoying herself once she gave herself permission.” Adrian smiled. “Yes.” Dalia regarded him. “You love her.” “Of course.” “Good.” He looked at her. “Why good?” “Because she's worth loving.” Adrian studied Dalia for a moment. Then smiled. “I think I understand why she likes you.” Dalia laughed. “Careful. You're going to make me sentimental.” “Would that be terrible?” “Catastrophic.” He laughed. Then turned her beneath his arm. --- They returned to Regina. She was talking with Rogue. Dalia looked between them. “Should I be worried?” Rogue grinned. “Always.” Dalia laughed. “Fair.” Regina turned toward Adrian. “Good dance?” “Excellent.” Dalia smiled. “He's a gentleman.” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Occasionally.” Adrian sighed. “I'm never escaping this reputation.” Rogue laughed. Then glanced toward the far end of the room. Suzy was beckoning to her. “Duty calls.” Regina smiled. “Thanks for the invitation.” Rogue looked at her. “Enjoy the rest of the night.” “Oh, I intend to.” Rogue grinned. Then walked away. --- For a moment, the three stood together. Dalia looked at Regina. Then Adrian. Then smiled. “Well.” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Well?” “I believe we've established that all three of us are enjoying ourselves.” Adrian laughed. “Seems so.” “Good.” Regina studied her. “And?” Dalia's smile widened. “And I'm wondering whether we should find somewhere we can hear ourselves think.” Adrian looked amused. “Quieter?” “Much.” Regina considered. Then smiled. “Are you suggesting one of Rogue's private suites?” Dalia tilted her head. “Would that bother you?” Regina stepped closer. “Not remotely.” Adrian looked between them. Then grinned. “I seem to be missing part of this conversation.” Dalia turned toward him. “Darling, you're not missing anything. I'm inviting you too.” Adrian went still. Just long enough to make Dalia laugh. “Oh, that got your attention.” Regina turned toward him. “Adrian?” He looked at her. Then smiled. “I'm flattered.” Dalia studied them. Regina gave a small, amused shake of her head. “Dalia, he's my cousin.” For the first time that evening, Dalia's expression changed from teasing confidence to genuine alarm. “Fuck.” Adrian burst out laughing. Regina covered her face. Dalia stared at them. Then threw up her hands. “OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!” Regina was laughing too hard to speak. Adrian leaned against the bar. “I'm sorry,” he managed. “No, you're fucking not!” “Not even slightly.” Dalia pointed at him. “You absolute bastard!” He laughed harder. Regina wiped her eyes. “Oh, God.” Dalia looked from one to the other. Then shook her head. “Fine. That one's on me.” Regina smiled. “Very much.” Dalia sighed theatrically. “Jesus Christ. I've been professionally outmaneuvered.” Adrian bowed slightly. “An honor.” “Fuck off.” He laughed. Then Regina stepped closer and touched Dalia's cheek. “Still interested in somewhere quieter?” Dalia looked at her. The embarrassment dissolved into a slow smile. “Oh, darling.” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “Very.” Adrian straightened. “Then I'll leave you two to it.” Dalia looked at him. “Good idea.” He grinned. “Enjoy yourselves.” Regina smiled. “We intend to.” Adrian gave his cousin a quick affectionate squeeze of the shoulder. Then turned toward the bar. Dalia watched him go. Then looked at Regina. “Your family is dangerous.” Regina laughed. “You have no idea.” Dalia grinned. “Come on, beautiful.” She offered her hand. Regina accepted. And together they headed toward the private corridor. At the bar, Mandi spotted them. She was dancing between Dino and Tomas. Her neon-orange hair bounced as she turned. Then she saw Dalia holding Regina's hand. Her grin widened. “DALLY!” Dalia stopped. Closed her eyes. Then turned. “What?” Mandi pointed dramatically toward the private corridor. “YOU!” Dalia stared. Mandi beamed. “GOOD LUCK!” Dino burst out laughing. Tomas covered his mouth. Regina looked at Dalia. “Does she always announce everything?” Dalia sighed. “Only the things she thinks are important.” Mandi blew her a kiss. “LOVE YOU!” Dalia shook her head. Then smiled. “Love you too, menace.” She turned back toward Regina. “Now.” Regina laughed. “Now?” Dalia squeezed her hand. “Before she gets another idea.” They disappeared into the corridor. --- Mandi watched them go. Then turned toward Dino and Tomas. “Well, gentlemen.” Dino grinned. “Yes?” She smiled. “I believe we've established that Dally is having a wonderful evening.” Tomas laughed. “Looks that way.” Mandi leaned closer. “And I think it's high time we stopped letting her have all the fun.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Mandi's black-contact eyes sparkled with mischief. “Would either of you like to find out just how good my shoes look when they're not being used for dancing?” Tomas laughed. Dino grinned. “Mandi.” “Yes, darling?” “You are an absolute menace.” She beamed. “AND YOU LOVE IT.” --- In the private corridor, Regina stopped beside an available suite. Dalia turned toward her. “Second thoughts?” Regina smiled. “Not remotely.” “Good.” “But I do have a question.” “Ask.” Regina stepped closer. “Are you always this shameless?” Dalia considered. Then smiled. “Only when someone gives me a very good reason.” Regina touched her cheek. “And have I?” Dalia leaned closer. “Regina, darling.” “Yes?” “You walked over to me, made me laugh, kissed me on a dance floor, and somehow managed to convince me that being interrogated by a fixer could be the highlight of my evening.” Regina smiled. “That's quite a list.” “And now you're standing here asking whether I'm shameless.” “Are you?” Dalia kissed her. When they separated, she whispered, “Find out.” Regina laughed softly. Then opened the door. And for once, Dalia—hidden beneath the unmistakable colors and attitude of her joytoy identity—found herself very happy to let somebody else take the lead. --- ## Chapter 21 — A Question of Control Regina Jones closed the door. Then she turned around. Dalia stood a few steps away, one hand resting against her hip, her neonpink dreadlocks spilling across the dark fabric of her outfit. Her reflective emerald eyes caught the room's warm lighting. The menthol lollipop had disappeared somewhere along the way. Regina noticed. “Lost something?” Dalia smiled. “Put it away.” “Shame.” “Why?” “I was beginning to associate it with you.” Dalia laughed. “Darling, there's considerably more to me than a piece of candy.” “I was hoping there would be.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Regina walked closer. “Though I have to admit, the dreadlocks are making a strong impression too.” Dalia glanced down at them. “Good impression?” “Spectacular.” “Excellent. They're expensive.” Regina laughed. “Somehow I'm not surprised.” Dalia's smile broadened. “And you, Regina Jones, have been making a rather spectacular impression yourself.” “Have I?” “Mm-hmm.” Regina stopped in front of her. “Tell me something.” “Ask.” “Do you ever stop flirting?” Dalia considered. “When I'm asleep.” “Only then?” “Depends on the dream.” Regina burst out laughing. “Oh, you're impossible.” “Frequently.” Regina touched one of the pink dreadlocks, then paused. “May I?” Dalia's expression softened. “Of course.” Regina let the long strand slide between her fingers. “Extraordinary.” Dalia smiled. “Thank you.” Then Regina looked into her eyes. “And the woman underneath all this?” Dalia tilted her head. “What about her?” “I'd quite like to get to know her.” For a moment, Dalia's smile changed. The mischief didn't disappear. But something warmer joined it. “Well,” she said softly, “that's a very good beginning.” They didn't immediately move toward the sofa. Regina was still studying her. Not in the appraising way Dalia knew from professional encounters. There was curiosity in it. And something almost disconcertingly straightforward. Dalia liked that. “Are you always this observant?” she asked. Regina smiled. “Occupational habit.” “Dangerous habit.” “Occasionally.” “You're going to end up noticing things I don't want you to notice.” “Then I'll ask whether you'd rather I didn't.” Dalia blinked. Regina's expression remained perfectly serious. Then Dalia laughed. “Oh, fuck.” “What?” “You really do know how to ask the right questions.” Regina smiled. “I try.” Dalia considered her. Then took Regina's hand. “Come here.” Regina stepped closer. Dalia slipped her arms around her waist. For a moment they simply stood together. Then Regina touched her cheek. “May I kiss you again?” Dalia smiled. “Please.” Their kiss began gently. Regina drew closer, and Dalia answered with an affectionate hand against the back of her neck. When they separated, neither moved away. Regina brushed her thumb across Dalia's cheek. “You know,” she murmured, “you're rather different when you're not tormenting an entire room.” Dalia laughed softly. “Disappointed?” “Not remotely.” “Good.” “I like both versions.” Dalia regarded her. Then smiled. “That,” she said, “might be the nicest thing anybody's said to me tonight.” Regina kissed her again. Eventually they sat together near the windows. The suite overlooked a dazzling stretch of Corpo Plaza. Streams of traffic moved between the towers below, and the occasional aircraft crossed the dark like a solitary spark. Dalia settled with one leg folded beneath her. Regina sat beside her, turning enough to face her comfortably. For several minutes they talked. Not about contracts. Not about Rogue. About the peculiar lives people built in Night City. Regina admitted that she'd become far too accustomed to treating a free evening as something that required justification. Dalia regarded her. “Why?” Regina laughed. “Because there's always something unfinished.” “There always will be.” “I know.” “Doesn't mean you have to finish it personally.” Regina smiled. “You sound like Adrian.” “Clearly a man of excellent judgment.” “He's going to be unbearable if I tell him that.” “Then don't.” Regina laughed. After a moment she grew thoughtful. “He worries about me.” “I noticed.” “He thinks I spend too much time trying to fix things.” “Do you?” Regina considered. “Probably.” Dalia watched her. “And who takes care of Regina?” The question landed quietly. Regina looked at her. Then away toward the windows. “I'm not sure I have a very good answer.” Dalia nodded. She didn't rush to offer a solution. She simply reached for Regina's hand. Regina looked back. “What?” “Nothing.” “That expression isn't nothing.” Dalia smiled. “I was thinking you're allowed to have an evening where nobody needs you to solve a damn thing.” Regina regarded her. Then laughed softly. “Even you?” “Especially me.” “Really?” “Oh, I can take care of myself.” Regina's smile returned. “I don't doubt it.” “Good.” Dalia leaned closer. “Though I wouldn't object to a little attention.” Regina laughed. “Ah. There she is.” “Never left, sweetheart.” Regina kissed her again. This time there was no uncertainty in the gesture. Dalia welcomed her closer, one hand settling against her shoulder. The distant music continued. When Regina drew back, her expression had softened. “Tell me if I'm moving too fast.” Dalia smiled. “Regina.” “Yes?” “You've spent half the evening being thoughtful.” “Is that a complaint?” “Absolutely not.” “Then?” Dalia touched her cheek. “I want to be here with you.” Regina's smile warmed. “Good.” “And if I want something different, I'll tell you.” “Fair.” “Same goes for you.” Regina nodded. “Agreed.” Dalia laughed softly. “Excellent. We've negotiated the terms.” Regina grinned. “Very professionally.” “Want to seal the agreement?” “How?” Dalia kissed her. Regina laughed against her mouth before returning it. The room's warmth gradually became its own small world. They moved closer together on the sofa. Regina's hand rested against Dalia's waist. Dalia slipped an arm around her shoulders and leaned into her embrace. Their kisses became more confident, punctuated by affectionate laughter and the occasional outrageous remark. When Dalia murmured that Regina was considerably more persuasive than her professional reputation suggested, Regina replied that she had barely begun presenting her case. Dalia burst out laughing. “Oh, you absolute bitch.” Regina smiled. “Too much?” “Not nearly enough.” Regina drew her close again. For a while, conversation gave way to the simple pleasure of being wanted. There was an ease to it that surprised Regina. She was accustomed to weighing risks, gathering information, and remaining alert for the detail everyone else had missed. Here, she could simply be herself. And Dalia, for all her gleeful mischief, seemed perfectly content to let her. Eventually they settled together against the cushions, trading quieter kisses and murmured observations. Regina rested her forehead against Dalia's. “Are you comfortable?” Dalia smiled. “Very.” “Good.” “Though I have one complaint.” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “These boots.” Regina glanced down. “The spectacularly ridiculous ones?” “Exactly.” “What about them?” “They were not designed for sitting on a sofa.” Regina burst out laughing. Dalia shook her head. “Don't look so pleased. Fashion involves sacrifice.” “Apparently.” “Terrible suffering.” “Tragic.” Dalia grinned. “Help me with them?” Regina smiled. “Gladly.” The boots were, Regina discovered, considerably more complicated than they appeared. Not because they were difficult to remove. Because Dalia insisted on providing a running commentary. “Careful. Those are worth more than a reasonably good motorcycle.” Regina looked up. “Really?” “No.” Regina laughed. “You liar.” “But they were expensive.” “That I believe.” “Properly expensive.” “Dalia.” “Yes?” “Are you trying to distract me?” “Is it working?” Regina shook her head. “Spectacularly.” “Good.” When the second boot was safely set beside the first, Dalia flexed her feet with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, that's heavenly.” Regina laughed. “Better?” “Much.” “You could have taken them off earlier.” Dalia looked scandalized. “In public?” “Apparently not.” “Regina, darling. Standards.” Regina was still laughing when Dalia pulled her gently back onto the sofa. “Now,” Dalia murmured. Regina smiled. “Yes?” “Where were we?” They discovered that the conversation could become just as intimate as the kisses. Regina talked about cases she hadn't been able to forget. Without names. Without confidential details. Only the feelings those cases had left behind. Dalia listened. Really listened. And when Regina spoke of people who had suffered because someone powerful decided their lives were expendable, Dalia's teasing expression disappeared. “That's the part that stays with you,” she said. Regina nodded. “Yes.” Dalia squeezed her hand. “I understand.” Regina studied her. “I think you do.” For a moment, neither spoke. Then Regina smiled faintly. “You're full of surprises.” Dalia laughed. “Darling, I'm practically a subscription service.” Regina burst out laughing. “Oh, God.” “Premium package.” “Stop.” “Unlimited surprises.” “Dalia!” “Customer satisfaction guaranteed.” Regina covered her face. Dalia leaned over, laughing. “Too much?” “Yes!” “Want a refund?” Regina caught her gently around the waist. “Absolutely not.” And kissed her. Later, Dalia rested comfortably beside Regina, her neonpink dreadlocks spread across a cushion. Their earlier laughter had quieted into something softer. Regina brushed a stray strand away from Dalia's face. “Can I tell you something?” “Of course.” “I was nervous about coming over to you.” Dalia turned. “You?” “Yes.” “Regina Jones?” “The very same.” Dalia smiled. “Why?” Regina considered. “Because you seemed so completely at ease with everyone. I wasn't sure whether you'd actually be interested in talking to me.” Dalia stared. Then laughed softly. “Sweetheart.” “What?” “I've been hoping you'd come over since you smiled at me across the room.” Regina looked surprised. “Really?” “Really.” “Why didn't you say something?” Dalia grinned. “Because Mandi would have announced it to the entire fucking building.” Regina burst out laughing. “Oh, that's true.” “Probably over the sound system.” “Can she do that?” Dalia's expression became ominous. “Don't give her ideas.” They laughed together. Then Regina kissed her cheek. “I'm glad I came over.” Dalia's expression softened. “So am I.” Eventually Regina looked toward the room's clock. “Goodness.” Dalia followed her gaze. “What?” “We've been here longer than I realized.” Dalia smiled. “Having fun?” “Very.” “Then I fail to see the problem.” Regina laughed. “There isn't one.” “Good.” She settled closer. Regina looked down at her. “You know, I think Adrian is going to be insufferably smug.” “Why?” “Because he kept telling me I'd enjoy tonight if I stopped treating it like a professional obligation.” Dalia grinned. “Oh, he's never going to let you forget that.” “No.” “Terrible man.” “Absolutely.” Regina smiled. Then became thoughtful. “Would you like to see me again?” Dalia looked at her. The question was simple. There was no suggestion of obligation. No expectation that an enjoyable evening automatically had to become something more. Just a woman asking whether another woman would enjoy spending time with her. Dalia smiled. “Yes.” Regina's expression warmed. “Good.” “Though I should warn you.” “Oh?” “I'm much worse when I'm comfortable.” Regina laughed. “I suspected as much.” “Loud.” “I've noticed.” “Terrible influence.” “Apparently.” “And I have appalling taste in friends.” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Mandi?” Dalia closed her eyes. “Especially Mandi.” They laughed. Then Regina leaned close. “I think I'll take my chances.” Dalia kissed her. “Excellent decision.” --- Back at the reception, Mandi had been conducting a very serious investigation. At least, that was what she called it. Dino Dinovic was unconvinced. Tomas was openly delighted. “You're telling me,” Dino said, “that you're conducting research?” Mandi nodded solemnly. “Extremely important research.” “Into what?” “Male overconfidence.” Tomas burst out laughing. Dino stared at her. “Male overconfidence?” “Mm-hmm.” “And how's the research progressing?” Mandi considered the two of them. Then smiled. “Promisingly.” Tomas shook his head. “Should I ask about the methodology?” Mandi's black-contact eyes widened. “Oh, darling.” Dino laughed. “What?” “It's very hands-on.” Tomas nearly choked on his drink. Mandi beamed. Dino shook his head. “You're trouble.” “Professionally.” “Everyone here seems to be professionally something.” “High standards.” Tomas looked toward the private corridor. “Your friend Dalia has been gone a while.” Mandi followed his gaze. Then grinned. “DALLY!” Dino winced. “She can't hear you.” “GOOD PRACTICE!” Tomas laughed. Mandi planted her hands on her hips. “She threatened to hide my shoes.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “All of them?” “MY ENTIRE COLLECTION!” Tomas looked down at the spectacular pair she was wearing. “How many are we talking about?” Mandi's expression became suspicious. “Why?” “Curiosity.” “Are you planning a robbery?” Dino laughed. Tomas smiled. “No.” “Good.” Mandi leaned closer. “Because there are easier ways to get me out of my shoes.” Dino stopped laughing. Tomas raised his eyebrows. Mandi looked between them. Her grin turned positively wicked. “Oh, gentlemen.” Dino smiled slowly. “Yes?” “I think my research requires a more controlled environment.” Tomas laughed. “A laboratory?” “Precisely.” “Do you have one in mind?” Mandi glanced toward the private corridor. Then back at them. “Rogue, being the thoughtful woman she is, has provided several.” Dino looked at Tomas. Tomas looked at Dino. Then both looked at Mandi. She smiled sweetly. “Well?” Dino laughed. “I suppose we should support scientific progress.” Tomas nodded. “Absolutely.” Mandi clapped her hands. “EXCELLENT!” She hopped down from the barstool, caught a hand from each man, and began leading them toward the corridor. Then she stopped. Turned. And looked very seriously at both of them. “One important thing.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “What?” Mandi pointed toward her shoes. “These are not experimental equipment.” Tomas laughed. “Understood.” “Not to be damaged.” Dino nodded. “Of course.” “Not to be lost.” “Certainly.” “And absolutely not to be used as drinking vessels.” Both men stared at her. Then Dino burst out laughing. Tomas shook his head. “Has that happened before?” Mandi considered. Then smiled. “Research is full of unexpected discoveries.” --- Across the reception area, Rogue noticed Mandi marching toward the corridor with Dino and Tomas in tow. Suzy followed her gaze. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” Rogue laughed. “What?” “Look at her.” Rogue watched the little neon-orange whirlwind pass the bar. Dino appeared thoroughly entertained. Tomas was laughing. Mandi looked as though she'd just won a particularly magnificent prize. Rogue shook her head. “Christ.” Suzy grinned. “She's going to be unbearable tomorrow.” “She was unbearable yesterday.” “True.” “Day before that too.” Suzy laughed. Rogue slipped an arm around her waist. Then watched Mandi pause outside an available suite. The petite woman turned toward the two men. Apparently delivered one final instruction. And burst into laughter when they both nodded solemnly. The door opened. Mandi marched inside. Dino and Tomas followed. The door closed. Suzy leaned against Rogue's shoulder. “Well.” Rogue smiled. “Well indeed.” Suzy laughed softly. “Do you know what?” “What?” “I rather envy those two gentlemen.” Rogue looked at her. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, darling.” Suzy grinned. “What?” “They have absolutely no idea what they've agreed to.” --- Inside the suite, Mandi inspected the furniture. Then the refreshments. Then the windows. Then she turned toward Dino and Tomas. Her neon-orange hair flashed beneath the warm lights. “Gentlemen.” Dino smiled. “Yes?” “This is an excellent laboratory.” Tomas laughed. “Glad it meets your standards.” “Almost.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “Almost?” Mandi approached. Stood between them. Looked up. And smiled. “There's one more thing we need to establish.” Tomas regarded her. “What?” She offered them both a hand. “Are we going to have fun?” Dino smiled. “Absolutely.” Tomas nodded. “Very much.” Mandi beamed. “GOOD.” Then her expression softened into something unexpectedly affectionate. “Because that's what I want too.” Dino took her hand. Tomas took the other. And Mandi, who could turn almost any situation into a glorious public spectacle, discovered that she was just as happy when the audience consisted of two people who genuinely wanted to be there. She glanced up at Dino. “May I kiss you?” He smiled. “Please.” She rose onto her toes. He bent toward her. Their kiss ended with Mandi laughing. “Fuck, you're tall.” Dino laughed. “Sorry.” “Don't be. I like a challenge.” Tomas grinned. Mandi turned toward him. “And you.” “Yes?” “Come here.” He leaned down. She kissed him too. Then drew back. Looked between them. And smiled. “Oh, this is going to be a wonderful evening.” --- Hihihihi! ❤️😈 Mandi on 145 senttimetriä puhdasta katastrofia, neonoranssilla varoitusvalolla varustettuna. Ja Dino sekä Tomas ovat juuri vapaaehtoisesti astuneet sen vaikutusalueelle. Mutta katsotaanpa, kumpi lopulta yllättää kumman. LOL! --- ## Chapter 22 — Occupational Hazards Mandi looked up at the two men. Dino looked down at Mandi. Tomas looked at both of them. Then he began laughing. Mandi narrowed her black-contact eyes. “What?” “Nothing.” “That is absolutely not nothing.” Tomas shook his head. “I'm just thinking.” “Dangerous hobby.” “That we've allowed a woman half our size to take complete control of our evening.” Mandi gasped. “Allowed?” Dino winced theatrically. “Oh, you shouldn't have said that.” Mandi planted her hands on her hips. “Allowed?” Tomas laughed harder. “Poor choice of words.” “Catastrophic choice of words!” Dino grinned. “Would you like us to apologize?” Mandi considered. Then lifted one finger. “Yes.” Tomas bowed his head. “My deepest apologies.” She lifted a second finger. “Flowers.” Dino laughed. “Flowers?” “An enormous bouquet.” “Of course.” “Imported.” “Certainly.” “And possibly a statue.” Tomas stared. “A statue?” Mandi nodded gravely. “Commemorating my patience.” Dino burst out laughing. “What should the inscription say?” Mandi looked thoughtful. Then smiled. Here stood a magnificent woman who tolerated two absolute idiots. Tomas doubled over laughing. Dino shook his head. “That's going to be a very small statue.” Mandi's mouth fell open. “DINO!” He caught her around the waist before she could administer the playful slap she'd been preparing. She squealed. Then laughed. “Oh, you bastard!” “Sorry.” “No, you're not!” “Not even slightly.” He leaned down. She caught his face between her hands. And kissed him. When they separated, Dino was smiling. Mandi regarded him. “Hmm.” “What?” “You might survive.” Tomas raised a hand. “And me?” Mandi looked over Dino's shoulder. “Oh, darling.” “Yes?” “Your assessment is still pending.” They settled onto the sofa overlooking Corpo Plaza. Mandi chose the middle. Naturally. Dino sat on her left. Tomas on her right. She looked from one to the other with enormous satisfaction. “Excellent.” Tomas raised an eyebrow. “What is?” “Symmetry.” Dino laughed. “That's important?” “Vital.” “Why?” Mandi spread her arms along the back of the sofa. “Because otherwise one of you might think he's my favorite.” Tomas considered. “And is there a favorite?” Mandi smiled sweetly. “Currently?” “Yes.” “Me.” Both men burst out laughing. She nodded. “Good. We're making progress.” Dino stretched his legs. “So, Professor Mandi.” She turned. “Oooh. I like that.” “What exactly are we researching?” “Confidence.” “Whose?” “Yours.” Tomas looked amused. “And the control group?” Mandi pointed at herself. “Perfection.” Dino laughed. “Of course.” She settled comfortably between them. Then her expression became a little more thoughtful. “Actually, there's something I want to know.” Tomas looked at her. “Go ahead.” “Why did you two come tonight?” Dino considered. “Rogue invited me.” “Obviously.” “And I asked Tomas because he's one of the few people I can spend an evening with without feeling like I'm at work.” Mandi looked at Tomas. He nodded. “That's fair.” “How long have you known each other?” “Long enough to have heard every one of Dino's terrible stories,” Tomas said. Dino looked offended. “They're excellent stories.” “They were excellent the first time.” Mandi laughed. “And the seventh?” “Less excellent.” Dino threw up his hands. “I'm surrounded by critics.” Mandi leaned against him. “Poor baby.” “Finally, some sympathy.” “Don't get excited. It was temporary.” Tomas reached for a bottle of water and offered it to her. Mandi accepted. “Thank you.” He smiled. “You're welcome.” She drank, then regarded him with surprising seriousness. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Do you actually enjoy being the quieter one?” Tomas thought about it. “Yes.” “Or is Dino just so fucking loud that nobody else gets a chance?” Dino barked a laugh. “HEY!” Tomas grinned. “A little of both.” Mandi laughed. Then waited. Tomas noticed. “You really want an answer.” “Yep.” He considered. “Dino knows everyone. He likes being in the middle of things. That's who he is.” “True,” Dino said. “I enjoy people too. But I don't particularly need an audience.” Mandi nodded. “I get that.” Dino turned toward her. “You do?” She looked scandalized. “Of course!” He gestured vaguely toward the direction of the reception area. “Mandi, you shouted your friend's nickname across a ballroom.” “DALLY is a beautiful nickname!” Tomas laughed. “She disagrees?” “Violently.” “Then why keep using it?” Mandi smiled. “Because she loves me.” Dino shook his head. “That's your justification?” “It's an extremely important distinction. She knows exactly how to get me back.” “And how would that be?” Mandi's expression grew solemn. “My shoes.” Tomas smiled. “She threatened them?” “THE ENTIRE COLLECTION.” Dino laughed. Mandi pointed at him. “Don't laugh. That's domestic terrorism.” --- It was Tomas who eventually changed the mood. Not abruptly. He simply reached over and touched Mandi's hand. She turned. “Yes?” “I've enjoyed meeting you.” Her teasing expression softened. “Me too.” “You're funny.” “Devastatingly.” “And you're very good at making people comfortable.” Mandi blinked. That hadn't been the compliment she'd expected. “Am I?” “Yes.” She studied him. Tomas continued. “There's a difference between making a room laugh and making the people in it feel welcome. You seem to do both.” For a moment Mandi said nothing. Then she smiled. A smaller smile. “That's sweet.” Dino nodded. “He's right.” Mandi looked at him. “Both of you are ganging up on me.” “Is it working?” Dino asked. “Unfortunately.” Tomas brought her hand to his lips. Mandi watched him. Then moved closer. “Can I tell you something?” “Anything.” “I've been making jokes all evening because you're both ridiculously easy to tease.” “Fair,” Dino said. “But I really do like you.” Dino's smile warmed. Tomas squeezed her hand. “We like you too.” Mandi looked between them. Then nodded. “Good.” A beat passed. Then her grin returned. “Because otherwise this would be one hell of an awkward laboratory experiment.” Dino kissed her first. A gentle kiss that made Mandi smile. She reached up and drew him back for another. Then she turned toward Tomas. He was watching them with amusement. “What?” she asked. “Nothing.” “Stop doing that.” “Doing what?” “Looking like you know something.” He laughed. “I know that I like kissing you.” Mandi's grin widened. “Excellent answer.” She leaned toward him. Their kiss was slower. Tomas slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she settled comfortably against him. For once, she didn't immediately deliver a punchline when they separated. She simply smiled. Dino touched her cheek. “Everything good?” “Very.” She looked at him. Then Tomas. “And you two?” Dino nodded. “Very.” Tomas smiled. “Absolutely.” Mandi drew a satisfied breath. “Good.” She looked toward the windows. Then back. “You know what I like about tonight?” Dino raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Neither of you has asked me to pretend I'm something I'm not.” Tomas considered. “Why would we?” Mandi shrugged. “Some people have remarkably elaborate ideas about what women like me are supposed to be.” Dino's expression turned thoughtful. “Sounds exhausting.” “It is.” Tomas nodded. “Well, I rather like the woman we've met.” Mandi regarded him. “Even the shouting?” “Especially the shouting.” “The terrible jokes?” “Those are a challenge.” “The shoes?” Dino laughed. “We've established the shoes are sacred.” Mandi beamed. “FINALLY. TWO EDUCATED MEN.” --- Outside the windows, traffic streamed through the illuminated city. Inside, the three moved closer together. Mandi curled against Dino for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, then turned toward Tomas when he gently brushed a strand of neon-orange hair away from her face. She kissed him. Dino's hand rested against her back. Nothing about their closeness felt competitive. Dino and Tomas had arrived as friends, and neither treated Mandi's attention as something to be won from the other. Mandi liked that enormously. She sat back and studied them. “Question.” Dino smiled. “Another one?” “I'm an inquisitive woman.” “Clearly.” She looked between them. “Are you both comfortable with this?” Tomas nodded. “Yes.” Dino smiled. “Very.” “Good.” “And you?” Tomas asked. Mandi's expression softened. “Yes.” She reached for their hands. “Very much.” Then she gave them each a mischievous look. “Now, if either of you starts treating this like a contest, I'm making you play cards instead.” Dino burst out laughing. Tomas looked intrigued. “What game?” Mandi considered. “Something with terrible odds.” “For whom?” She grinned. “You.” The evening settled into a warmer, quieter rhythm. Mandi discovered that Dino, beneath his confident manner and endless supply of stories, possessed an unexpectedly tender streak. He remembered little things she'd said. He noticed when she shifted uncomfortably against the sofa's arm. And when he drew her into an embrace, there was nothing possessive about it. He simply made room for her. Tomas was different. He was attentive without making a ceremony of it. His humor emerged in quiet, perfectly timed remarks, often causing Mandi to laugh so suddenly that whatever outrageous observation she'd been preparing disappeared. At one point she leaned back against him, looked up, and said, “You're dangerous.” He smiled. “Why?” “Because you wait until somebody has completely relaxed before saying something devastating.” “Sounds familiar.” She gasped. “Are you accusing me of something?” “Never.” “Liar.” “Occasionally.” She laughed. Then kissed him. Dino watched them with a smile. Mandi turned toward him. “What?” “Nothing.” “Both of you really have to stop saying that.” He laughed. “I was thinking how much fun this is.” Mandi's expression warmed. “Yeah.” She reached for him. “It really is.” A little later, Mandi stretched and looked down at her shoes. Dino followed her gaze. “Something wrong?” “No.” Tomas smiled. “The sacred footwear?” “Exactly.” Mandi stood. She looked at the heels. Then at the two men. “Gentlemen.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “I have reached a difficult decision.” Tomas laughed. “What decision?” “The shoes must come off.” Dino placed a hand over his heart. “Such sacrifice.” “Unprecedented.” Tomas smiled. “Would you like some help?” Mandi considered. Then offered him a foot with regal solemnity. “You may assist.” He laughed. She rested one hand on Dino's shoulder for balance while Tomas carefully dealt with the fastening. When the first shoe came free, Mandi sighed happily. “Oh, that's better.” Dino shook his head. “You've been wearing those all evening.” “Beauty demands courage.” “And circulation?” “Overrated.” Tomas laughed. He removed the second shoe and placed it neatly beside the first. Mandi looked down. Then gave a delighted little wiggle of her toes. “Freedom!” Dino laughed. She turned toward him. “Don't you dare.” “What?” “Make a joke about my height.” He regarded her. Then smiled innocently. “I wouldn't dream of it.” “Dino.” “Yes?” “You're thinking one.” “Possibly.” Mandi pointed at him. “Careful. I'm still dangerous down here.” He laughed. She climbed back onto the sofa. Then pulled him into a kiss. It was some time before the conversation returned to anything resembling ordinary subjects. There were affectionate embraces, more laughter, and long stretches when none of them felt any need to speak. The early exuberance gradually softened into the pleasure of sharing a space with people who genuinely enjoyed one another. Eventually Mandi rested against Dino while Tomas sat beside her, gently holding her hand. For perhaps half a minute, she was silent. Dino glanced down. “Are you asleep?” Mandi opened one black-contact eye. “No.” “Just checking.” She smiled. “Why?” “It's been suspiciously quiet.” Tomas laughed. Mandi looked offended. “I can be quiet!” Dino raised an eyebrow. “For how long?” She thought about it. “Don't push your luck.” They laughed. Then Mandi tucked herself more comfortably against him. “Actually,” she admitted, “I'm just happy.” Dino's expression softened. “Good.” Tomas squeezed her hand. “So are we.” Mandi looked at them both. For once, there was no spectacular declaration. No shouted joke. She simply smiled. Eventually Dino asked, “Will we see you again?” Mandi looked up. “Probably.” He laughed. “Probably?” She grinned. “Darling, I'm not issuing lifetime contracts on the first evening.” Tomas smiled. “Reasonable.” “But I like you.” “We like you too,” Dino said. “And I'd be very happy to spend more time with you.” Tomas nodded. “I'd enjoy that.” Mandi considered. Then looked at Dino. “Though I have one condition.” He sighed theatrically. “Of course you do.” She pointed toward her shoes. “Next time, nobody complains when I stop to look in a shop window.” Tomas laughed. Dino grinned. “Deal.” “Even if I want to go inside.” “Fine.” “Even if it takes an hour.” “An hour?” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Dino.” He raised both hands. “Fine. Two hours.” She smiled. “Excellent.” Tomas shook his head. “You've just made a terrible mistake.” Dino laughed. “I know.” Mandi beamed. “THAT'S THE SPIRIT!” --- Beyond the suite, the celebration continued. Rogue's unusual collection of guests had settled into a dozen different conversations, dances, and unexpected friendships. Some had discovered attraction. Others had found understanding. And a few had encountered people who challenged their carefully maintained ideas about themselves. Inside the suite, Mandi sat between two men she hadn't known that morning. Her neon-orange hair was slightly mussed. Her shoes were safely arranged beside the sofa. Her earlier laughter had left her cheeks aching pleasantly. She looked from Dino to Tomas. Then smiled. “Gentlemen.” Dino turned. “Yes?” Tomas looked at her expectantly. Mandi reached for both their hands. “I think this experiment has been an enormous success.” Dino laughed. “Do we get a certificate?” “Possibly.” Tomas smiled. “What would it say?” Mandi considered. Then her grin returned. Survived one evening with Mandi. Further testing recommended. Both men burst out laughing. She joined them. And somewhere in the middle of that laughter, with Night City glittering beyond the windows, Mandi decided that Rogue's ridiculous party had turned out to be one of the finest ideas anybody had ever had. --- Near the main bar, Suzy caught Rogue studying the private suite indicators. “Checking on your guests?” Rogue smiled. “Keeping track.” “Of course.” Suzy leaned closer. “How many surprises tonight?” “More than I expected.” “And any regrets?” Rogue glanced across the room. Anna had made Mr. Hands laugh again. Sera and Nadia were still deep in conversation with Padre. Deja and Saskia had returned to the dance floor. And several suites remained occupied. Rogue shook her head. “Not one.” Suzy smiled. “Good.” Then she looked toward the corridor. “And Mandi?” Rogue laughed. “Oh, that little menace is probably reorganizing the furniture.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Or conducting scientific research.” Rogue turned toward her. “Scientific research?” “Don't ask.” “Oh, now I have to.” Suzy shook her head, still laughing. “Darling, some things are best discovered firsthand.” Rogue regarded her. Then smiled slowly. “Well.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Well what?” “Perhaps we should compare notes later.” Suzy laughed. “Rogue Amendiares!” “What?” “You are absolutely incorrigible.” Rogue grinned. “And you love it.” Suzy leaned closer. Kissed her. And whispered, “Unfortunately, darling, I do.” --- ## Chapter 23 — The Man Behind the Curtain Wade Bleecker was beginning to suspect that Anna was dangerous. Not in the conventional sense. She hadn't threatened him, attempted to obtain confidential information, or expressed the slightest interest in the elaborate network of intermediaries through which he conducted his business. In fact, she had spent much of the evening doing precisely the opposite. She'd asked him about music. About the city. About the peculiar differences between places that looked impressive and places that actually felt welcoming. And, most alarmingly, she'd made him laugh. Repeatedly. Without seeming particularly impressed that she'd managed it. “You're doing it again,” she said. Wade looked at her. “Doing what?” “Thinking about something you haven't decided whether to say.” He smiled faintly. “Am I that transparent?” “Not remotely.” “Then how do you know?” Anna leaned back in her chair. Her platinum-blonde hair fell across one shoulder, the pale strands a striking contrast to her black lipstick. Her eyes—her own eyes, with none of the theatrical alterations worn by several of the other guests—regarded him with unmistakable amusement. “Because you have three different expressions when you're thinking.” Wade raised an eyebrow. “Three?” “At least.” “Enlighten me.” She considered him. “There's the one you use when somebody's lying.” “Ah.” “The one you use when you're deciding whether something is worth your attention.” “And the third?” Anna smiled. “The one you've been wearing for the last hour.” “Which means?” “That you're enjoying yourself and haven't quite forgiven yourself for it.” Wade stared at her. Then laughed. A quiet, startled laugh. “Good Lord.” Anna grinned. “Was I wrong?” “Not entirely.” “Excellent. My observational skills remain intact.” He shook his head. “You really are remarkable.” She raised an eyebrow. “Careful.” “Why?” “That's the sort of compliment people use when they're trying to sell me something.” Wade smiled. “And what if I'm not selling anything?” Anna studied him for a moment. Then her expression softened. “Then I might believe you.” Evelyn Bleecker had been watching her cousin from a discreet distance. Watching Wade was something of a family tradition. Not because he required supervision. Quite the opposite. He had become so adept at keeping other people at a distance that observing him in an ordinary social setting occasionally resembled studying a rare animal. He was polite. He could be charming. He could make almost anyone feel that their conversation mattered. But there was usually an invisible line nobody crossed. Tonight, Anna had apparently located that line, examined it, and decided she had no particular reason to approach it. Which, Evelyn suspected, was why Wade had gradually lowered it himself. She approached their table. “Am I interrupting?” Wade looked up. “Not at all.” Anna smiled. “Evelyn. Please join us.” “Thank you.” Evelyn sat. Then looked at her cousin. “You're smiling.” Wade sighed. “Must we?” “I'm simply making an observation.” Anna laughed. “Oh, I've been doing that all evening.” Evelyn turned toward her. “Successfully?” “Spectacularly.” Wade looked toward the ceiling. “I see you've become allies.” “Almost immediately,” Evelyn replied. Anna lifted her glass. “To effective cooperation.” Evelyn raised hers. Wade regarded them both. “Should I be concerned?” Anna smiled. “Only if you've been hiding something interesting.” Evelyn laughed. “Oh, he has.” “Evelyn.” “What?” “Behave.” She turned toward Anna. “Did you know my cousin once tried to convince the family he disliked dancing?” Anna looked delighted. “Really?” Wade closed his eyes. “Oh, for God's sake.” Evelyn continued. “For years.” Anna leaned forward. “And?” “And then, at a family celebration, he was discovered dancing rather beautifully with an elderly relative who had refused to accept his excuses.” Anna turned toward Wade. Slowly. With an expression of exquisite amusement. “You can dance.” He sighed. “Apparently.” “You've been sitting here telling me how much you appreciate music.” “Yes.” “And never thought to mention that you dance?” “I didn't realize I was required to provide a complete inventory of my accomplishments.” Anna burst out laughing. Evelyn grinned. “That's his favorite defense.” “Is it?” “Whenever he's caught being human.” Wade regarded his cousin. “You're enjoying this enormously.” “More than you know.” Anna stood. Both Bleeckers looked at her. She extended her hand to Wade. “Well?” He looked at it. Then at her. “Anna.” “Yes?” “Are you asking me to dance?” “Would you prefer a formal written invitation?” Evelyn covered her mouth. Wade laughed. Then accepted Anna's hand. “Very well.” Evelyn watched him rise. And smiled. --- The music had changed to something slower. Not sentimental. Just warm enough that couples could move together without needing to compete with the rhythm. Anna approached the dance floor with Wade beside her. “Your cousin is delightful.” “She is a menace.” “Those aren't mutually exclusive.” “I'm beginning to notice a pattern.” Anna smiled. “Perhaps your problem is that you keep meeting interesting women.” “A terrible burden.” “Tragic.” He laughed. Then offered his hand properly. Anna accepted. They began to dance. And Evelyn, Anna discovered, had not exaggerated. Wade was excellent. Not showy. Not interested in drawing an audience. He moved with the quiet assurance of someone who knew what he was doing and had no need to advertise it. Anna smiled. “Well.” Wade looked at her. “Well?” “You've been holding out on me.” “Have I?” “Shamelessly.” “I assure you, I have very little shame.” “Really?” “In selected matters.” She laughed. “Ah. A qualification.” “An important one.” They turned together. The music carried them past another pair, then toward the quieter edge of the floor. Anna glanced at him. “You seem different when you dance.” “How so?” “Less guarded.” Wade considered. “Perhaps dancing makes it harder to maintain an appropriate distance.” Anna smiled. “Is that a problem?” He looked at her. “No.” The answer was immediate. She liked that. Wade had attended more functions than he cared to remember. Corporate receptions. Private dinners. Negotiations disguised as celebrations. Celebrations that turned out to be negotiations. At most of them, he was expected to be Mr. Hands. Even when nobody used the name. Tonight, Anna had done something he found increasingly difficult to explain. She'd accepted that part of him existed without making it the only interesting part. She hadn't asked to see his face beneath the professional mask. She hadn't demanded that he reveal something personal to prove he trusted her. She simply talked to him. And somehow that had made revealing things feel less dangerous. “What brought you here tonight?” he asked. Anna looked up. “Rogue's invitation.” “Besides that.” She smiled. “Curiosity.” “About?” “People.” He laughed softly. “That's a broad subject.” “It is.” “Any particular people?” She regarded him. “Are you fishing for a compliment?” “Possibly.” Anna grinned. “Then you might as well know I've been enjoying your company.” “Immensely?” “Don't get greedy.” He laughed. She moved a little closer. “Actually, yes. Immensely.” His expression softened. “I'm glad.” “And you?” “Very much.” “Good.” She studied him. Then asked, “Are you always this reluctant to admit you're having fun?” Wade smiled. “Only when I'm being interrogated.” “Interrogated?” “Mercilessly.” “Mr. Bleecker, you have no idea what a merciless interrogation looks like.” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Anna smiled. “Let's hope we never need to establish the difference.” He laughed again. --- Near the bar, Evelyn watched them. She was joined by Suzy, who carried two glasses of water. “Your cousin?” Suzy asked. Evelyn nodded. “Yes.” Suzy followed her gaze. Anna was laughing. Wade was smiling. “Oh, that's nice.” Evelyn accepted the offered water. “Thank you.” “Rogue's rather proud of herself.” “Is she?” “She's trying not to look it.” Evelyn smiled. “How's that going?” “Terribly.” They laughed. Suzy leaned against the counter. “I don't believe I've ever seen Wade look quite so relaxed.” Evelyn's expression warmed. “Neither have I.” “Anna's something special.” “She certainly seems to be.” Suzy glanced toward them again. “Though I think Wade deserves some credit.” Evelyn turned. “For?” “Letting himself have a good time.” Evelyn smiled thoughtfully. “Yes.” She raised her glass slightly. “To that.” Suzy touched hers against it. “To that.” When the song ended, Wade didn't release Anna's hand immediately. She noticed. Of course she noticed. But she didn't comment. Instead, she smiled. “Another?” He glanced toward the musicians' sound system as the next piece began. Then back. “If you'd like.” “I would.” They resumed dancing. For a few moments they moved in comfortable silence. Then Wade spoke. “May I ask you something personal?” Anna looked amused. “Certainly.” “Do you always make strangers feel as though you've known them for years?” She considered. “No.” “Interesting.” “Why?” “Because you've managed it with me.” Her expression softened. “Have I?” “Yes.” She studied him. Then said quietly, “Perhaps that's because I haven't spent the evening trying to impress you.” Wade smiled. “I noticed.” “And you've been kind enough not to make me perform for your approval.” “Anna.” “Yes?” “I haven't the slightest interest in making you perform.” She laughed softly. “Good.” A pause. Then she added, “I do rather like dancing with you, though.” His smile widened. “An important distinction.” “Extremely.” Anna enjoyed the difference between Wade's public reserve and the man currently dancing with her. But she was careful not to treat the contrast as a puzzle she had to solve. His privacy belonged to him. So did hers. She had spent enough time among people who confused intimacy with entitlement to recognize the importance of that distinction. And perhaps that was why, when the music slowed further, she felt perfectly comfortable moving closer. Wade's hand rested gently against her back. She looked up. “May I kiss you?” He stopped. Only for a heartbeat. Then smiled. “I was beginning to wonder whether I'd find the courage to ask.” Anna laughed softly. “Then I've spared you the difficulty.” “You have.” “Is that a yes?” “Very much so.” She kissed him. It was a simple, unhurried kiss. Neither turned it into a public performance. But when Anna drew back, Wade's expression was unmistakably warm. “Well,” he murmured. Anna smiled. “Well?” “I believe this evening has become even more interesting.” “That's fortunate.” “Why?” “Because I was beginning to think I'd have to find some other way to surprise you.” He laughed. “Oh, I think you've managed quite enough for one evening.” Anna raised an eyebrow. “Have I?” Wade looked at her. Then smiled. “Perhaps not.” --- They remained on the floor until the song ended. This time, when they separated, Wade looked toward the windows. “Would you care for somewhere quieter?” Anna considered him. “Quieter than here?” “Much.” She smiled. “Are you suggesting one of Rogue's private suites?” “Only if you'd enjoy it.” Anna looked toward the reception. At the groups laughing around the bar. At Evelyn talking with Suzy. At Rogue, who appeared to be having a very animated conversation with Bea and Gabriel. Then she looked back at Wade. “I would.” His expression warmed. “Good.” “But I have one condition.” “Of course.” “No business.” Wade laughed. “Gladly.” “No mysterious calls that require you to disappear for forty minutes.” “Agreed.” “No pretending you have an urgent appointment if you discover you actually enjoy yourself.” He smiled. “That's a particularly cruel condition.” Anna grinned. “I can be merciless.” “So I'm discovering.” She offered him her hand. “Shall we?” He took it. “Gladly.” --- They paused beside Evelyn on their way toward the corridor. She looked up. Then smiled. “Oh?” Wade sighed. “Evelyn.” “What?” “Nothing.” “That's what I thought.” Anna laughed. Evelyn looked between them. “Having fun?” Wade nodded. “Very much.” “Good.” His cousin reached for his hand and gave it a brief squeeze. There was affection in the gesture. And a little teasing. But no interrogation. Anna liked that too. “Enjoy yourselves,” Evelyn said. Wade smiled. “We intend to.” Evelyn turned toward Anna. “And thank you.” Anna raised an eyebrow. “For?” “Making him smile.” Wade closed his eyes. “Evelyn.” Anna's expression softened. “My pleasure.” Then she added, with impeccable seriousness, “Though I must confess he's been doing rather well at making me smile too.” Evelyn laughed. “Excellent. A fair exchange.” Wade shook his head. “I've lost control of this conversation.” “Years ago, darling,” Evelyn replied. Anna burst out laughing. --- The suite they chose was on the quieter side of the tower. The windows looked out over a section of Night City where the towers gradually gave way to older districts and scattered islands of light. Anna entered first. She stopped near the window. “Oh.” Wade followed. “Beautiful?” “Very.” He approached, leaving a comfortable space between them. For a while they watched the city. Then Anna turned. “You know something?” “What?” “I think Rogue may be a genius.” Wade smiled. “An observation many people have made.” “Not about her business.” “Oh?” “About tonight.” He considered. “She has certainly achieved something unusual.” Anna nodded. “She brought people together without making the evening feel like an obligation.” “Yes.” “And she gave them permission to enjoy themselves.” Wade looked at her. “Did you need permission?” Anna smiled. “No.” “Neither did I.” “Then perhaps she simply removed the usual obstacles.” He considered. Then nodded. “A better explanation.” Anna crossed toward the sofa. Wade followed. She sat, then turned toward him. “Come here.” He raised an eyebrow. “An instruction?” “An invitation.” “Ah.” “Important distinction.” He smiled. “Very.” He sat beside her. Anna took his hand. For a moment they looked at one another. Then Wade said, “May I tell you something?” “Of course.” “I've been trying to decide what it is about you that unsettles me.” Anna laughed. “Oh, dear.” “Not unpleasantly.” “That's reassuring.” “It's simply that you appear to have no interest in the person everyone expects me to be.” She considered. “Would you prefer that I did?” “No.” “Then perhaps we've solved the mystery.” He smiled. “Perhaps.” Anna brushed her thumb across his hand. “Wade.” “Yes?” “I've spent enough time around important people to know that being important doesn't necessarily make somebody interesting.” He laughed. “Very true.” “And I've enjoyed meeting you.” His expression softened. “Thank you.” “Not your reputation.” “I understand.” “Not your connections.” “Yes.” “Just you.” For a moment he said nothing. Then he raised her hand and kissed it. “That,” he said quietly, “is a considerable gift.” Anna leaned closer. “May I give you another?” Wade smiled. “I'd like that.” She kissed him. He drew her gently into an embrace. When they separated, she remained close. Neither seemed interested in filling the silence. Eventually Wade laughed softly. “What?” Anna asked. “I was thinking Evelyn is never going to let me forget tonight.” Anna grinned. “Probably not.” “She's had far too much fun at my expense.” “She loves you.” “Yes.” “And worries about you.” “I know.” Anna considered. “Perhaps tonight she'll have a little less to worry about.” Wade looked at her. Then smiled. “Perhaps.” She rested against his shoulder. The music beyond the suite was barely audible. The city continued its restless movement below them. And for the first time in a long while, Wade Bleecker found himself doing something extraordinary. Nothing. No messages. No negotiations. No attempts to calculate what tomorrow might require. Just sitting with a woman whose company he genuinely enjoyed. After a while, Anna looked up. “You're smiling again.” He laughed. “Am I?” “Shamelessly.” “Apparently I've become careless.” “Terribly.” She touched his cheek. Then kissed him. Wade returned the kiss with a warmth that surprised them both. --- Elsewhere in the tower, Rogue was discussing an entirely different kind of problem. Suzy stood beside her. Bea and Gabriel were listening. And Padre, who had wandered over in search of another whiskey, had arrived just in time to hear Rogue announce: “I'm beginning to think I made this too easy.” Padre raised an eyebrow. “Rogue.” “Yes?” “What, precisely, would constitute a difficult evening?” Suzy burst out laughing. Bea smiled. Gabriel looked interested. Rogue considered. “An evening where people actually have to make an effort.” Padre studied the room. Then looked toward the private corridor. “From what I've observed, people are making considerable efforts.” Suzy laughed harder. Rogue grinned. “Not what I meant.” “Then enlighten me.” Rogue glanced around the room. At the people laughing. At the vacant spaces where some of her guests had disappeared to enjoy more private company. At the extraordinary success of an evening she'd arranged partly as an experiment and partly because she thought Night City's most influential people needed reminding that pleasure could exist without an agenda. Then she smiled. “You know what?” Suzy sighed. “Oh, God.” Bea looked delighted. “What?” Rogue turned toward them. “I think I've just worked out what my next party should be.” Padre closed his eyes. “Merciful heavens.” Gabriel laughed. Suzy looked at Rogue. Then shook her head. “Darling.” “Yes?” “Before you say anything, remember that most people require at least a week to recover from one of your better ideas.” Rogue grinned. “Then they should start training.” Bea burst out laughing. --- Across the reception area, Regina's cousin Adrian was enjoying a conversation with Dakota. The Badlands fixer had been unusually relaxed all evening. She'd spent time with Saskia earlier, watched her friend disappear into a private suite with Deja and Dalia, and later seen her return looking distinctly pleased. Now Dakota was discussing the peculiarities of city living with Adrian. “I still don't understand how people put up with the traffic,” she said. Adrian laughed. “Badly.” “Then why not fix it?” “Because nobody agrees on what fixing it means.” Dakota shook her head. “Sounds like Night City.” “It is Night City.” “Unfortunately.” They laughed. Adrian considered. “You must enjoy the quiet outside the city.” “Sometimes.” “And other times?” Dakota smiled. “Other times I miss the noise.” “Really?” “Don't tell anybody.” He laughed. “Your secret is safe.” She looked toward the dance floor. Deja and Saskia were moving together, laughing at something neither of them had apparently considered worth explaining. Dakota smiled. Adrian followed her gaze. “Your friend?” “Yes.” “She seems happy.” “She does.” Dakota's expression softened. “Good.” --- On the dance floor, Deja glanced toward Dakota. She smiled. Saskia noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “That is becoming a suspiciously popular answer tonight.” Deja laughed. “I was thinking about Dakota.” Saskia followed her gaze. “She looks relaxed.” “Yes.” “It's nice.” Deja nodded. Then Saskia regarded her. “You'd like to dance with her.” Deja turned. “Would I?” Saskia smiled. “You've looked over three times.” Deja laughed. “You've been counting?” “I'm observant.” “Dangerous trait.” “Apparently.” Deja considered. Then smiled. “Would you mind?” Saskia looked genuinely surprised. “Why would I?” “Just asking.” Saskia kissed her cheek. “Go on.” Deja squeezed her hand. Then crossed toward Dakota. Dakota noticed her approach. A smile appeared. “Well.” Deja stopped. “Well?” “I was beginning to wonder when you'd come over.” Deja laughed. “Were you?” “Mm-hmm.” “And what were you going to do if I didn't?” Dakota considered. “Finish my drink.” Deja burst out laughing. “Romantic.” “Practical.” “Ah.” Dakota smiled. “Besides, I figured you'd find your way here eventually.” Deja tilted her head. “Confident.” “Experienced.” They regarded one another for a moment. Then Deja offered her hand. “Dance?” Dakota's smile widened. “Gladly.” Adrian stepped aside with an amused bow. “Enjoy yourselves.” Dakota laughed. “We intend to.” The music was warm. Not especially fast. Dakota and Deja began dancing together, comfortably at first. Dakota regarded her. “Having a good evening?” Deja smiled. “Very.” “Good.” “And you?” “Better than I expected.” Deja laughed. “That seems to be the night's unofficial motto.” Dakota smiled. “Rogue has a talent for surprises.” “She does.” They turned together. Then Dakota looked at Deja more closely. “You seem different tonight.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “How?” “Relaxed.” “Was I tense before?” “No.” Dakota considered. “Perhaps that's not the right word.” Deja waited. “Happy,” Dakota said. Deja's expression softened. “I am.” “Good.” Dakota smiled. “I like seeing that.” For a moment, Deja said nothing. Then she moved a little closer. “Would you like to know something?” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Always.” “I've been hoping we'd get a chance to spend time together.” Dakota studied her. Then smiled. “So have I.” Deja laughed softly. “Why didn't you say anything?” Dakota grinned. “Wasn't sure whether you'd prefer to ask.” Deja shook her head. “Oh, you're trouble.” “Occasionally.” They continued dancing. A little closer now. And across the room, Saskia watched with a smile. --- Rogue had barely finished explaining her next terrible idea to Suzy when she noticed Dakota and Deja. She stopped. Looked. Then grinned. Suzy followed her gaze. “Oh, that's rather nice.” Rogue nodded. “Very.” “Do you ever get tired of being right?” Rogue considered. “About what?” “Inviting interesting people.” Rogue laughed. “Never.” Suzy shook her head. “You are an impossible woman.” “That's why you love me.” “One of several reasons.” Rogue's expression softened. She kissed Suzy. Then glanced around the room again. Somewhere beyond the windows, the first faint suggestion of morning would eventually appear. But not yet. For now, the music was still playing. The vodka was still excellent. And the night still had a few surprises left. --- ## Chapter 24 — Never Underestimate the Quiet Ones Dakota Smith had always considered herself a reasonably good judge of character. It came with the territory. Spend enough years working with mercenaries, smugglers, nomads, and people who insisted their business was entirely legitimate, and you developed an instinct for recognizing trouble. Usually before it started. Deja, however, was proving difficult to categorize. She looked elegant. Composed. Almost delicate in her ivory outfit, with its matching collar and immaculate tailoring. Her dark venom-green hair caught the light whenever they turned, and the warm brown-amber of her eyes suggested an approachable woman who might be perfectly content listening while other people did the talking. Dakota had already established that this impression was misleading. Delightfully misleading. “So,” Dakota said, “you're telling me Saskia dragged you onto the dance floor?” Deja smiled. “Not exactly.” “What exactly?” “She asked.” “And you agreed.” “Yes.” “Immediately?” “Almost.” Dakota laughed. “Sounds like Saskia.” “She's persuasive.” “She is.” “Of course, she also promised not to step on my feet.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Did she keep that promise?” Deja considered. “Mostly.” Dakota laughed. “Mostly?” “I'm being generous.” “Oh, she's going to love hearing that.” Deja grinned. “Please tell her.” Dakota studied her. “You enjoy trouble.” “Only when it's entertaining.” “That's a dangerous qualification.” Deja's smile widened. “I've been told.” Dakota was an excellent dancer. Not flashy. Not interested in proving anything. She moved with the comfortable economy of someone who had never confused grace with unnecessary effort. Deja appreciated that. They found their rhythm quickly. For a while, they talked about nothing especially important. The music. Rogue's spectacularly excessive hospitality. The genuine Russian vodka. And the astonishing sight of Muamar Reyes becoming so thoroughly distracted by the Marlow duo that he'd apparently forgotten there were other people at the party. Dakota laughed when Deja mentioned it. “Poor Rafael.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Poor?” “He's probably spending the evening keeping Muamar out of trouble.” Deja smiled. “I wouldn't be too certain of that.” “Oh?” “Rafael looked rather pleased with his own company.” Dakota considered. Then laughed. “Fair.” They turned together. A few moments later, Dakota spoke again. “You know what surprised me tonight?” “What?” “How little anybody seems interested in talking business.” Deja nodded. “Is that unusual?” “At a gathering of this many fixers?” “Ah.” “Extremely.” Deja smiled. “Maybe everyone's tired of being indispensable.” Dakota looked at her. Then laughed softly. “Now that's an interesting observation.” “Is it?” “Very.” “Perhaps I should charge for it.” Dakota burst out laughing. “There she is.” Deja tilted her head. “Who?” “The woman who's been hiding behind that sweet face all evening.” Deja smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?” Dakota shook her head. “Trouble.” “Professionally.” When the song ended, Dakota didn't release her hand. “Another?” Deja smiled. “Gladly.” The next piece was slower. Dakota stepped a little closer. Deja followed without hesitation. After a few moments, Dakota glanced at her. “May I ask you something?” “Of course.” “You and Dalia.” Deja's expression warmed. “Yes?” “You're close.” “Very.” Dakota nodded. “I thought so.” “Does that bother you?” “Why would it?” Deja smiled. “Good answer.” Dakota laughed. “I wasn't aware I was taking an examination.” “Oh, you aren't.” “Really?” “Not yet.” Dakota stared. Then laughed aloud. “Oh, you little devil.” Deja's grin was immediate. “Now you're learning.” They continued dancing. Dakota looked toward Saskia, who was laughing at something Adrian had said near the bar. “And Saskia?” Deja followed her gaze. “She's wonderful.” “Yes, she is.” “You've known her long?” “Years.” “She's very fond of you.” Dakota's expression softened. “I'm fond of her.” Deja nodded. Then Dakota looked back. “She seems rather fond of you too.” Deja laughed softly. “The feeling's mutual.” “Good.” A comfortable silence followed. Then Dakota added, “And now I seem to be enjoying your company considerably more than I anticipated.” Deja smiled. “That's becoming a recurring problem tonight.” “For whom?” “Everybody.” Dakota laughed. --- Near the bar, Saskia watched them. Adrian followed her gaze. “You're smiling.” “Yes.” “Something amusing?” “Something nice.” He looked toward Dakota and Deja. “Ah.” Saskia nodded. “Dakota doesn't dance with just anybody.” “Really?” “She'll dance if somebody asks. She's polite enough.” “But?” “She doesn't usually ask for a second.” Adrian considered. “They seem to be getting along.” “Very well.” He smiled. “Does that surprise you?” Saskia shook her head. “Not particularly.” “Why?” She considered the pair. “Because Deja knows how to listen.” Adrian laughed softly. “An underrated talent.” “And Dakota appreciates people who don't spend every conversation trying to impress her.” He nodded. “That's familiar.” Saskia looked at him. “Regina?” “Yes.” They laughed. Then Adrian glanced toward the private corridor. “My cousin seems to have disappeared.” Saskia smiled. “With Dalia.” “Apparently.” “Good for her.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.” Saskia looked at him. “You approve?” “Of Regina enjoying herself?” “Yes.” “Enormously.” She smiled. “Then perhaps this really is a successful party.” Adrian laughed. “I think Rogue would agree.” --- Dakota and Deja eventually left the dance floor. Not because either had grown tired of the other's company. Because Dakota had noticed a quieter seating area near the windows. “Would you like to sit for a while?” Deja smiled. “Please.” They collected water and settled into two comfortable chairs. For a moment, Dakota regarded her. Deja raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I'm still trying to work you out.” Deja laughed. “Having difficulty?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” Dakota shook her head. “You seem pleased.” “Very.” “Why?” “Because being predictable sounds terribly boring.” Dakota smiled. “Perhaps.” Deja leaned back. “Though I suspect you're not as predictable as you pretend either.” “Oh?” “Mm-hmm.” “Explain.” “You've spent the entire evening acting like the sensible one.” Dakota laughed. “Someone has to.” “And yet you accepted Rogue's invitation.” “True.” “Brought Saskia.” “Yes.” “Spent hours watching a room full of strangers doing increasingly outrageous things.” Dakota nodded. “And?” Deja smiled. “And you're still here.” Dakota regarded her. Then began laughing. “That's your evidence?” “Very compelling evidence.” “That I'm secretly irresponsible?” “That you're curious.” Dakota's laughter softened. Deja continued. “And that you don't mind being surprised when the surprise is worthwhile.” Dakota studied her. For several seconds, she said nothing. Then smiled. “You're very perceptive.” Deja shrugged. “I pay attention.” “Yes,” Dakota said. “You certainly do.” Dakota leaned back. “Tell me something about yourself.” Deja tilted her head. “What would you like to know?” “Something that isn't a performance.” Deja considered the question. Then smiled. “I love dancing.” Dakota laughed. “I gathered.” “I love people who say what they mean.” “Also apparent.” “And I have a particular weakness for women who look intimidating until you discover they're secretly quite sweet.” Dakota stared. Then laughed. “Is that so?” “Oh, absolutely.” “Anyone in particular?” Deja looked directly at her. “Possibly.” Dakota shook her head, smiling. “You really don't waste time.” “Life's short.” “Not always.” “Long enough to be interesting. Too short to be boring.” Dakota considered that. Then nodded. “Fair.” Deja smiled. “And you?” “What about me?” “Something that isn't a performance.” Dakota looked out over the city. For a while, she remained silent. Then she said, “I like quiet mornings.” Deja listened. “Coffee before anyone needs anything from me. Enough time to think about the day without somebody shouting through a comm.” “That sounds wonderful.” “It is.” “What else?” Dakota considered. “Old machinery.” Deja smiled. “Really?” “Things people think aren't worth repairing.” “Why?” “Because sometimes all they need is someone willing to understand what went wrong.” Deja's expression softened. “That's a beautiful answer.” Dakota looked faintly embarrassed. “It's machinery.” “Doesn't make it less beautiful.” Dakota studied her. Then smiled. “You really mean that.” “Of course.” The conversation wandered. They talked about the Badlands. About the differences between people who built systems and people who merely purchased them. About how many problems could be solved with patience, a good set of tools, and the willingness to admit that the first attempt had been wrong. Dakota discovered that Deja knew a surprising amount about networks and security architecture. Not merely the vocabulary. The reasoning behind them. When Dakota described a communications failure that had once stranded a convoy without reliable contact, Deja asked two questions. Then a third. Dakota stopped. Looked at her. And smiled. “You've done this before.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Troubleshooting.” “Occasionally.” “Professionally?” “Sometimes.” Dakota laughed softly. “That's a terribly evasive answer.” “Is it?” “Yes.” Deja grinned. “I'd hate to become predictable.” Dakota shook her head. Then leaned forward. “All right, clever girl. Here's a problem.” She described a hypothetical relay system across several unreliable remote nodes. Deja listened. Thought for a moment. Then began asking questions. Dakota answered. Within minutes, both women were absorbed. The conversation acquired the familiar energy of two technically capable people discovering they could think together. Dakota challenged one assumption. Deja found a flaw in another. They argued cheerfully about redundancy, latency, and the difference between a system that worked under ideal conditions and one that survived real life. Finally Dakota sat back. “Well, fuck.” Deja laughed. “What?” “I think you've just improved the design.” “Possibly.” “Possibly?” “I haven't tested it.” Dakota stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, I like you.” Deja smiled. “Good.” --- Rogue spotted them twenty minutes later. She was passing the windows with Suzy when she noticed Dakota gesturing animatedly at an improvised diagram on a napkin. Deja was laughing. Then she pointed to something on the paper. Dakota stopped. Considered. And laughed too. Rogue slowed. Suzy followed her gaze. “Oh, that's interesting.” Rogue smiled. “What?” “They're talking engineering.” Rogue regarded the pair. “You can tell?” “Look at the napkin.” Rogue leaned slightly to see. Lines. Boxes. Arrows. And what appeared to be an argument about how not to design something. She laughed. “Christ.” Suzy grinned. “Of all the things I expected tonight, Dakota flirting over network architecture wasn't one of them.” Rogue shook her head. “Neither was it for me.” They watched a moment longer. Dakota said something. Deja leaned forward, smiled, and offered a counterargument. Dakota looked delighted. Suzy laughed softly. “You know what's wonderful?” “What?” “They've completely forgotten there's a party.” Rogue smiled. “Yes.” Suzy squeezed her arm. “That's a rather good sign.” At the table, Dakota finally pushed the napkin aside. “All right.” Deja looked at her. “All right what?” “I concede.” Deja grinned. “Entirely?” “Don't push your luck.” “Ah. A conditional surrender.” Dakota laughed. “You're absolutely unbearable.” “I've heard that.” “And you enjoy it.” “Enormously.” Dakota regarded her for a moment. Then reached across the table. Deja looked at the offered hand. And took it. The change was small. Almost nothing. Yet both women felt it. Dakota brushed her thumb lightly across Deja's knuckles. “You know,” she said, “I came over hoping to dance with you.” Deja smiled. “I'm glad you did.” “I wasn't expecting to spend the next half hour arguing about communications systems.” “Disappointed?” Dakota laughed. “Not remotely.” “Good.” “In fact…” She paused. Deja tilted her head. “Yes?” Dakota smiled. “I think that may have been the most attractive conversation I've had in years.” Deja burst out laughing. “Oh, Dakota.” “What?” “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” Dakota grinned. “I try.” Deja leaned closer. “Would you like to know something?” “Always.” “I thought it was rather attractive too.” Dakota's smile softened. They remained there a little longer. Then Dakota glanced toward the dance floor. Saskia was talking with Adrian again. She looked comfortable. Happy. When she noticed Dakota watching, she smiled and raised her glass. Dakota returned the gesture. Deja followed the exchange. “She seems to be enjoying Adrian's company.” “Yes.” “Good.” Dakota turned back. Then looked thoughtfully at Deja. “May I kiss you?” Deja smiled. “Yes.” Dakota leaned closer. Their kiss was gentle. Warm. When they separated, Deja was smiling. Dakota regarded her. “Well.” Deja laughed softly. “Well?” “I've been considering doing that for a while.” “Have you?” “Yes.” “Why didn't you?” Dakota considered. “Because I was enjoying the conversation.” Deja stared at her. Then laughed. “Oh, you magnificent woman.” Dakota grinned. “Is that approval?” “Enormous approval.” “Good.” Deja slipped a hand behind Dakota's neck. “And for the record, you don't have to choose between the two.” Dakota smiled. “I was hoping you'd say that.” They kissed again. --- It was Saskia who approached them next. Not because she felt compelled to intervene. She simply wanted to see how things were going. “Well,” she said. Dakota looked up. Deja turned. Saskia smiled at both. “Having fun?” Dakota regarded the napkin covered in diagrams. Then Deja. Then burst out laughing. “More than you know.” Saskia noticed the diagram. She leaned closer. Read two labels. Then looked up. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Deja started laughing. Dakota grinned. “What?” “Networking?” “Communications architecture,” Dakota corrected. Saskia stared. Then looked at Deja. “Of course.” Deja smiled innocently. “What?” “I leave you alone with Dakota for half an hour, and you start redesigning infrastructure.” Dakota laughed. “It's a very interesting problem.” “Oh, I'm sure.” Deja reached for Saskia's hand. Saskia accepted. Then shook her head. “You two are hopeless.” “Professionally,” Deja replied. Saskia groaned. “Oh, God. There's two of you now.” Dakota looked at Saskia. “You've had a good evening?” “Wonderful.” “Good.” Saskia squeezed her hand. “And you?” Dakota glanced at Deja. Then smiled. “Rather exceptional.” Saskia's expression warmed. “I'm glad.” There was no hesitation in it. No obligation to pretend. Dakota had known Saskia long enough to recognize sincerity. And she knew that her friend understood something important about the evening. Nobody had come here to claim somebody else's time. They were here because they wanted to be. Saskia turned toward Deja. “Have you been teasing her?” Deja looked scandalized. “Me?” “Yes, you.” “Mercilessly,” Dakota answered. Saskia laughed. “I suspected as much.” Deja sighed. “I'm surrounded by conspirators.” Dakota smiled. “You're coping remarkably well.” “Heroically.” The three talked for a while. Saskia joined the argument about the napkin. She declared that anybody designing a system that required that many arrows deserved to have their tools confiscated. Dakota laughed. Deja defended the design. Saskia pointed out that she'd only understood half of it. Deja said that had never stopped anyone from becoming a consultant. Dakota laughed so hard she almost spilled her water. Eventually Saskia leaned back. “Well.” Deja turned. “Well what?” “I think I've established something.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “What?” “You two are dangerously compatible.” Deja smiled. Dakota laughed. “Is that a professional assessment?” “Absolutely.” “And your qualifications?” Saskia grinned. “I've been watching you both for the last half hour.” Deja shook her head. “Terrible methodology.” “Excellent results.” Dakota smiled. “Can't argue with that.” Saskia looked at them both. Then her expression softened. “I'm happy for you.” Deja squeezed her hand. “Thank you.” Dakota nodded. “Me too.” A slower song began. Saskia glanced toward the floor. Then back at the two women. “Would either of you care to dance?” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Either?” Saskia grinned. “Or both.” Deja laughed. “Ambitious.” “Always.” Dakota considered. Then stood. “Why not?” Saskia smiled. “Excellent.” Deja rose beside them. The three crossed toward the music. For a while, they danced together without making any particular production of it. Saskia was still laughing about the napkin. Dakota occasionally made remarks that caused Deja to grin. And Deja, with her deceptively gentle appearance and merciless sense of timing, seemed determined to make both women laugh at least once per minute. Eventually the music slowed further. Dakota took Deja's hand. Saskia stepped comfortably beside them. For a moment, they stood close. Then Saskia looked between them. “I have a suggestion.” Dakota smiled. “Go on.” Saskia glanced toward the windows. “Somewhere quieter?” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Another engineering discussion?” Saskia stared at her. Then burst out laughing. “Absolutely fucking not.” Dakota grinned. “Shame. I had several improvements in mind.” “Oh, I'm sure you did.” Deja smiled. Saskia shook her head. “Both of you. Unbelievable.” Dakota regarded her. Then laughed softly. “All right. No engineering.” “Promise?” “For at least an hour.” Saskia groaned. “That's the best I'm getting, isn't it?” Deja smiled. “Probably.” They laughed together. Before they moved toward the corridor, Deja looked at both women. “Can I ask something?” Dakota nodded. “Of course.” Saskia smiled. “Anything.” Deja considered. “I've had a wonderful evening with both of you. But I don't want either of you agreeing to something simply because the other seems enthusiastic.” Dakota's expression softened. Saskia nodded. “Fair.” Deja looked at Dakota. “Would you like to spend some time together?” Dakota smiled. “Very much.” Then at Saskia. “And you?” Saskia laughed softly. “Darling, I was the one who suggested it.” Deja grinned. “An important detail.” “Extremely.” Dakota reached for both their hands. “Then I think we're agreed.” Saskia smiled. “Excellent.” Deja looked at her. “Though I reserve the right to discuss engineering.” Saskia groaned. “DEJA!” Dakota burst out laughing. --- They were halfway toward the corridor when Rogue intercepted them. Not deliberately. She simply happened to be returning from a conversation with the bar manager. She saw the three women holding hands. Stopped. And smiled. “Well.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Rogue.” “Dakota.” Deja smiled. Saskia looked amused. Rogue regarded them. “Enjoying the party?” Dakota laughed. “Enormously.” “Good.” Rogue glanced toward Deja. “And you?” “Very.” “Saskia?” She smiled. “Wonderful evening.” Rogue nodded. “Excellent.” Then her gaze fell on the napkin Dakota was still carrying. The one covered in diagrams. Rogue stared. “What the fuck is that?” Dakota looked down. “Oh.” Deja burst out laughing. Saskia covered her mouth. Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” Dakota smiled. “Communications architecture.” Rogue closed her eyes. “Jesus Christ.” Deja laughed harder. Rogue pointed toward the corridor. “Go.” Saskia grinned. “With pleasure.” “And leave the fucking engineering outside.” Dakota laughed. “Noted.” Rogue watched them continue. Then shook her head. “Unbelievable.” Suzy found her a moment later. “What?” Rogue looked at her. “Dakota.” “Yes?” “Deja.” “Yes?” “Saskia.” Suzy smiled. “Oh?” “They've gone to a private suite.” “Good for them.” Rogue shook her head. “With a napkin full of network diagrams.” Suzy stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, that's magnificent!” Rogue laughed despite herself. “I swear to God, I couldn't invent this shit.” Suzy leaned against her. “You invited interesting people.” “Apparently.” “And you're surprised they found interesting things to talk about?” “Not the talking.” “Then?” Rogue grinned. “The fucking diagrams.” Suzy laughed so hard she had to hold Rogue's arm. --- Back near the windows, Padre had watched the exchange with amused interest. Nadia noticed his expression. “What?” “Nothing.” She smiled. “Padre.” He turned toward her. “Yes?” “That is a remarkably unconvincing answer.” Sera laughed. Padre sighed theatrically. “I see I'm outnumbered.” “Enormously,” Nadia replied. Sera's silver-white hair lifted slightly with her laughter, a faint electric-blue sheen passing across the pale strands. Padre regarded her. “You haven't changed.” Sera smiled. “Would you want me to?” “Good heavens, no.” Nadia laughed. Padre looked between the two artists. Then smiled. “Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something.” Sera raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Yes.” Nadia leaned forward. “About our work?” “In a manner of speaking.” Sera glanced at her collaborator. Nadia looked intrigued. Padre continued. “Both of you create things that challenge people to reconsider what they believe they're seeing.” Sera smiled. “Sometimes.” “Often,” Nadia corrected. Sera laughed. Padre smiled. “And both of you seem to enjoy the moment when somebody realizes their first interpretation was wrong.” Nadia considered. “That's not quite the same thing as wanting to fool people.” “No,” Padre agreed. “It isn't.” Sera looked at him. “Where are you going with this, Sebastian?” He smiled. “I was wondering whether you'd ever considered creating something about forgiveness.” The question changed the atmosphere. Not unpleasantly. But noticeably. Nadia grew thoughtful. Sera's smile softened. “Forgiveness,” she repeated. Padre nodded. “Yes.” Nadia leaned back. “That's a complicated subject.” “It is.” “Because forgiving someone isn't the same as pretending they didn't hurt you.” Padre regarded her. “Precisely.” Sera looked from one to the other. Then smiled slowly. “Oh.” Nadia turned. “What?” Sera's hair lifted another fraction. “I think he may have just given us a rather dangerous idea.” Padre laughed. “Should I apologize?” Nadia grinned. “Not yet.” The conversation continued. But it was different now. More focused. Sera began sketching possibilities in the air with her hands. Nadia challenged the first idea almost immediately. Padre listened, then offered a question that made both artists stop and reconsider. For several minutes, nobody mentioned the party. Then Sera laughed. “Oh, Sebastian.” “Yes?” “Do you have any idea what you've done?” Padre looked amused. “I asked a question.” Nadia shook her head. “You've probably just started three months of work.” He smiled. “Then I hope it will be worthwhile.” Sera looked at Nadia. Nadia looked back. An understanding passed between them. Then both smiled. “Oh, it will,” Nadia said. Rogue noticed them from the bar. Padre had acquired a napkin. Sera was drawing on it. Nadia was gesturing emphatically. Rogue stopped. Looked at Suzy. Then at the artists. “Another fucking napkin?” Suzy followed her gaze. Then began laughing. “Oh, darling.” Rogue shook her head. “First Dakota and Deja. Now Sebastian and the artists.” Suzy smiled. “Apparently your private party has become a convention.” Rogue considered. Then grinned. “A remarkably successful convention.” Suzy laughed. “Of course.” Rogue watched Sera say something that caused Nadia to burst out laughing. Padre smiled. The silver-white hair rose another inch. Rogue shook her head. “You know what?” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I think they're going to make something extraordinary.” “Probably.” “And I won't understand a fucking thing about it.” Suzy laughed. “Also probably.” --- A little later, Rogue took the microphone. Not loudly. Not with the theatrical announcement Mandi would undoubtedly have preferred. Just a brief adjustment to the room's sound system. The conversations quieted. Guests turned. Suzy looked at her. “Oh, God.” Rogue smiled. “Relax.” “That expression never means anything good.” Rogue ignored her. “Ladies and gentlemen.” The room settled. Those who had returned from private suites looked up with varying degrees of curiosity. Regina and Dalia stood near the refreshment counter. Dalia had recovered her boots and her menthol lollipop. Mandi, Dino, and Tomas had returned together, with Mandi looking so outrageously pleased with herself that several people were already smiling before Rogue spoke. Anna and Wade were standing near the windows. Wakako had returned with Panam. Birgitta was beside Daichi. Deja, Dakota, and Saskia had just rejoined the party. And Padre stood with Sera and Nadia, the napkin bearing their latest idea folded carefully in Sera's hand. Rogue looked around. Then smiled. “I have an announcement.” Mandi immediately shouted, “IS IT ABOUT MY SHOES?” The room erupted in laughter. Rogue closed her eyes. “Mandi.” “YES?” “No.” “DISAPPOINTING!” Suzy laughed. Rogue shook her head. “Anyway.” The room quieted again. “I'd like to thank all of you for coming.” A few people raised their glasses. Rogue continued. “I invited you because I thought it would be interesting to see what happened when people who spend most of their lives solving other people's problems were given an evening without any problems to solve.” Dakota glanced toward Deja. Deja smiled innocently. Saskia whispered, “Unless you count network architecture.” Dakota nearly choked on her drink. Rogue noticed. Her eyebrows rose. “Except apparently some of you couldn't resist.” The room laughed. Rogue smiled. “And I have to admit, you've exceeded my expectations.” She glanced at Suzy. Who smiled back. Then Rogue looked across the gathering. “Which brings me to a challenge.” Regina raised an eyebrow. Dino grinned. Muamar, newly returned from the corridor with Rafael and the Marlow duo, leaned forward. Rogue's smile widened. “Any of you think you can throw a better party?” A delighted murmur spread through the room. Mandi gasped. “Oh, FUCK.” Dalia closed her eyes. “Here we go.” Rogue continued. “I'm serious.” Suzy shook her head, laughing. “Unfortunately, she is.” Rogue raised her glass. “I'm not asking you to outspend me.” She smiled. “I'm asking whether any of you can outdo me.” For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Muamar laughed. “Oh, that's a dangerous challenge.” Dino raised his glass. “Very dangerous.” Regina smiled thoughtfully. Dakota shook her head. Wakako looked amused. And Mr. Hands, standing beside Anna, said something so quietly that only she heard it. Anna turned toward him. Then began laughing. Rogue noticed. “Wade?” He looked up. “Yes?” “Something to contribute?” He considered. Then smiled. “Only that you've set a rather interesting precedent.” Rogue grinned. “Good.” Padre raised his glass. “May heaven help us all.” The room burst out laughing. Rogue lifted her whiskey. “To interesting people.” Glasses rose around the room. “To unexpected company.” More smiles. “And to being pleasantly surprised.” They drank. Then Mandi, unable to contain herself any longer, stood on the lowest step near the bar. “AND TO DALLY!” Dalia stared. “Mandi.” The room erupted. Mandi threw both arms wide. “THE WOMAN, THE MYTH, THE MENACE!” Regina burst out laughing. Deja doubled over. Saskia covered her face. Dalia slowly removed her lollipop. “Mandi.” “YES, SWEETHEART?” “Your shoes.” Mandi stopped smiling. Dalia's grin became positively wicked. “Every. Last. Pair.” Mandi gasped. “YOU WOULDN'T!” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Try me.” Mandi stared at her. Then looked at Rogue. “ROGUE! SHE'S THREATENING MY PROPERTY!” Rogue laughed. “Sounds like a private matter.” “SUZY!” Suzy was laughing too hard to answer. Mandi threw up her hands. “THIS ENTIRE PARTY IS CORRUPT!” And somewhere beneath all that laughter, Night City's most unlikely gathering of friends and strangers found itself agreeing on one thing: Rogue Amendiares had issued a challenge. And somebody, sooner or later, was going to answer it. --- ## Chapter 24 — Never Underestimate the Quiet Ones Dakota Smith had always considered herself a reasonably good judge of character. It came with the territory. Spend enough years working with mercenaries, smugglers, nomads, and people who insisted their business was entirely legitimate, and you developed an instinct for recognizing trouble. Usually before it started. Deja, however, was proving difficult to categorize. She looked elegant. Composed. Almost delicate in her ivory outfit, with its matching collar and immaculate tailoring. Her dark venom-green hair caught the light whenever they turned, and the warm brown-amber of her eyes suggested an approachable woman who might be perfectly content listening while other people did the talking. Dakota had already established that this impression was misleading. Delightfully misleading. “So,” Dakota said, “you're telling me Saskia dragged you onto the dance floor?” Deja smiled. “Not exactly.” “What exactly?” “She asked.” “And you agreed.” “Yes.” “Immediately?” “Almost.” Dakota laughed. “Sounds like Saskia.” “She's persuasive.” “She is.” “Of course, she also promised not to step on my feet.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Did she keep that promise?” Deja considered. “Mostly.” Dakota laughed. “Mostly?” “I'm being generous.” “Oh, she's going to love hearing that.” Deja grinned. “Please tell her.” Dakota studied her. “You enjoy trouble.” “Only when it's entertaining.” “That's a dangerous qualification.” Deja's smile widened. “I've been told.” Dakota was an excellent dancer. Not flashy. Not interested in proving anything. She moved with the comfortable economy of someone who had never confused grace with unnecessary effort. Deja appreciated that. They found their rhythm quickly. For a while, they talked about nothing especially important. The music. Rogue's spectacularly excessive hospitality. The genuine Russian vodka. And the astonishing sight of Muamar Reyes becoming so thoroughly distracted by the Marlow duo that he'd apparently forgotten there were other people at the party. Dakota laughed when Deja mentioned it. “Poor Rafael.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Poor?” “He's probably spending the evening keeping Muamar out of trouble.” Deja smiled. “I wouldn't be too certain of that.” “Oh?” “Rafael looked rather pleased with his own company.” Dakota considered. Then laughed. “Fair.” They turned together. A few moments later, Dakota spoke again. “You know what surprised me tonight?” “What?” “How little anybody seems interested in talking business.” Deja nodded. “Is that unusual?” “At a gathering of this many fixers?” “Ah.” “Extremely.” Deja smiled. “Maybe everyone's tired of being indispensable.” Dakota looked at her. Then laughed softly. “Now that's an interesting observation.” “Is it?” “Very.” “Perhaps I should charge for it.” Dakota burst out laughing. “There she is.” Deja tilted her head. “Who?” “The woman who's been hiding behind that sweet face all evening.” Deja smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?” Dakota shook her head. “Trouble.” “Professionally.” When the song ended, Dakota didn't release her hand. “Another?” Deja smiled. “Gladly.” The next piece was slower. Dakota stepped a little closer. Deja followed without hesitation. After a few moments, Dakota glanced at her. “May I ask you something?” “Of course.” “You and Dalia.” Deja's expression warmed. “Yes?” “You're close.” “Very.” Dakota nodded. “I thought so.” “Does that bother you?” “Why would it?” Deja smiled. “Good answer.” Dakota laughed. “I wasn't aware I was taking an examination.” “Oh, you aren't.” “Really?” “Not yet.” Dakota stared. Then laughed aloud. “Oh, you little devil.” Deja's grin was immediate. “Now you're learning.” They continued dancing. Dakota looked toward Saskia, who was laughing at something Adrian had said near the bar. “And Saskia?” Deja followed her gaze. “She's wonderful.” “Yes, she is.” “You've known her long?” “Years.” “She's very fond of you.” Dakota's expression softened. “I'm fond of her.” Deja nodded. Then Dakota looked back. “She seems rather fond of you too.” Deja laughed softly. “The feeling's mutual.” “Good.” A comfortable silence followed. Then Dakota added, “And now I seem to be enjoying your company considerably more than I anticipated.” Deja smiled. “That's becoming a recurring problem tonight.” “For whom?” “Everybody.” Dakota laughed. Near the bar, Saskia watched them. Adrian followed her gaze. “You're smiling.” “Yes.” “Something amusing?” “Something nice.” He looked toward Dakota and Deja. “Ah.” Saskia nodded. “Dakota doesn't dance with just anybody.” “Really?” “She'll dance if somebody asks. She's polite enough.” “But?” “She doesn't usually ask for a second.” Adrian considered. “They seem to be getting along.” “Very well.” He smiled. “Does that surprise you?” Saskia shook her head. “Not particularly.” “Why?” She considered the pair. “Because Deja knows how to listen.” Adrian laughed softly. “An underrated talent.” “And Dakota appreciates people who don't spend every conversation trying to impress her.” He nodded. “That's familiar.” Saskia looked at him. “Regina?” “Yes.” They laughed. Then Adrian glanced toward the private corridor. “My cousin seems to have disappeared.” Saskia smiled. “With Dalia.” “Apparently.” “Good for her.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.” Saskia looked at him. “You approve?” “Of Regina enjoying herself?” “Yes.” “Enormously.” She smiled. “Then perhaps this really is a successful party.” Adrian laughed. “I think Rogue would agree.” Dakota and Deja eventually left the dance floor. Not because either had grown tired of the other's company. Because Dakota had noticed a quieter seating area near the windows. “Would you like to sit for a while?” Deja smiled. “Please.” They collected water and settled into two comfortable chairs. For a moment, Dakota regarded her. Deja raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I'm still trying to work you out.” Deja laughed. “Having difficulty?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” Dakota shook her head. “You seem pleased.” “Very.” “Why?” “Because being predictable sounds terribly boring.” Dakota smiled. “Perhaps.” Deja leaned back. “Though I suspect you're not as predictable as you pretend either.” “Oh?” “Mm-hmm.” “Explain.” “You've spent the entire evening acting like the sensible one.” Dakota laughed. “Someone has to.” “And yet you accepted Rogue's invitation.” “True.” “Brought Saskia.” “Yes.” “Spent hours watching a room full of strangers doing increasingly outrageous things.” Dakota nodded. “And?” Deja smiled. “And you're still here.” Dakota regarded her. Then began laughing. “That's your evidence?” “Very compelling evidence.” “That I'm secretly irresponsible?” “That you're curious.” Dakota's laughter softened. Deja continued. “And that you don't mind being surprised when the surprise is worthwhile.” Dakota studied her. For several seconds, she said nothing. Then smiled. “You're very perceptive.” Deja shrugged. “I pay attention.” “Yes,” Dakota said. “You certainly do.” Dakota leaned back. “Tell me something about yourself.” Deja tilted her head. “What would you like to know?” “Something that isn't a performance.” Deja considered the question. Then smiled. “I love dancing.” Dakota laughed. “I gathered.” “I love people who say what they mean.” “Also apparent.” “And I have a particular weakness for women who look intimidating until you discover they're secretly quite sweet.” Dakota stared. Then laughed. “Is that so?” “Oh, absolutely.” “Anyone in particular?” Deja looked directly at her. “Possibly.” Dakota shook her head, smiling. “You really don't waste time.” “Life's short.” “Not always.” “Long enough to be interesting. Too short to be boring.” Dakota considered that. Then nodded. “Fair.” Deja smiled. “And you?” “What about me?” “Something that isn't a performance.” Dakota looked out over the city. For a while, she remained silent. Then she said, “I like quiet mornings.” Deja listened. “Coffee before anyone needs anything from me. Enough time to think about the day without somebody shouting through a comm.” “That sounds wonderful.” “It is.” “What else?” Dakota considered. “Old machinery.” Deja smiled. “Really?” “Things people think aren't worth repairing.” “Why?” “Because sometimes all they need is someone willing to understand what went wrong.” Deja's expression softened. “That's a beautiful answer.” Dakota looked faintly embarrassed. “It's machinery.” “Doesn't make it less beautiful.” Dakota studied her. Then smiled. “You really mean that.” “Of course.” The conversation wandered. They talked about the Badlands. About the differences between people who built systems and people who merely purchased them. About how many problems could be solved with patience, a good set of tools, and the willingness to admit that the first attempt had been wrong. Dakota discovered that Deja knew a surprising amount about networks and security architecture. Not merely the vocabulary. The reasoning behind them. When Dakota described a communications failure that had once stranded a convoy without reliable contact, Deja asked two questions. Then a third. Dakota stopped. Looked at her. And smiled. “You've done this before.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Troubleshooting.” “Occasionally.” “Professionally?” “Sometimes.” Dakota laughed softly. “That's a terribly evasive answer.” “Is it?” “Yes.” Deja grinned. “I'd hate to become predictable.” Dakota shook her head. Then leaned forward. “All right, clever girl. Here's a problem.” She described a hypothetical relay system across several unreliable remote nodes. Deja listened. Thought for a moment. Then began asking questions. Dakota answered. Within minutes, both women were absorbed. The conversation acquired the familiar energy of two technically capable people discovering they could think together. Dakota challenged one assumption. Deja found a flaw in another. They argued cheerfully about redundancy, latency, and the difference between a system that worked under ideal conditions and one that survived real life. Finally Dakota sat back. “Well, fuck.” Deja laughed. “What?” “I think you've just improved the design.” “Possibly.” “Possibly?” “I haven't tested it.” Dakota stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, I like you.” Deja smiled. “Good.” Rogue spotted them twenty minutes later. She was passing the windows with Suzy when she noticed Dakota gesturing animatedly at an improvised diagram on a napkin. Deja was laughing. Then she pointed to something on the paper. Dakota stopped. Considered. And laughed too. Rogue slowed. Suzy followed her gaze. “Oh, that's interesting.” Rogue smiled. “What?” “They're talking engineering.” Rogue regarded the pair. “You can tell?” “Look at the napkin.” Rogue leaned slightly to see. Lines. Boxes. Arrows. And what appeared to be an argument about how not to design something. She laughed. “Christ.” Suzy grinned. “Of all the things I expected tonight, Dakota flirting over network architecture wasn't one of them.” Rogue shook her head. “Neither was it for me.” They watched a moment longer. Dakota said something. Deja leaned forward, smiled, and offered a counterargument. Dakota looked delighted. Suzy laughed softly. “You know what's wonderful?” “What?” “They've completely forgotten there's a party.” Rogue smiled. “Yes.” Suzy squeezed her arm. “That's a rather good sign.” At the table, Dakota finally pushed the napkin aside. “All right.” Deja looked at her. “All right what?” “I concede.” Deja grinned. “Entirely?” “Don't push your luck.” “Ah. A conditional surrender.” Dakota laughed. “You're absolutely unbearable.” “I've heard that.” “And you enjoy it.” “Enormously.” Dakota regarded her for a moment. Then reached across the table. Deja looked at the offered hand. And took it. The change was small. Almost nothing. Yet both women felt it. Dakota brushed her thumb lightly across Deja's knuckles. “You know,” she said, “I came over hoping to dance with you.” Deja smiled. “I'm glad you did.” “I wasn't expecting to spend the next half hour arguing about communications systems.” “Disappointed?” Dakota laughed. “Not remotely.” “Good.” “In fact…” She paused. Deja tilted her head. “Yes?” Dakota smiled. “I think that may have been the most attractive conversation I've had in years.” Deja burst out laughing. “Oh, Dakota.” “What?” “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” Dakota grinned. “I try.” Deja leaned closer. “Would you like to know something?” “Always.” “I thought it was rather attractive too.” Dakota's smile softened. They remained there a little longer. Then Dakota glanced toward the dance floor. Saskia was talking with Adrian again. She looked comfortable. Happy. When she noticed Dakota watching, she smiled and raised her glass. Dakota returned the gesture. Deja followed the exchange. “She seems to be enjoying Adrian's company.” “Yes.” “Good.” Dakota turned back. Then looked thoughtfully at Deja. “May I kiss you?” Deja smiled. “Yes.” Dakota leaned closer. Their kiss was gentle. Warm. When they separated, Deja was smiling. Dakota regarded her. “Well.” Deja laughed softly. “Well?” “I've been considering doing that for a while.” “Have you?” “Yes.” “Why didn't you?” Dakota considered. “Because I was enjoying the conversation.” Deja stared at her. Then laughed. “Oh, you magnificent woman.” Dakota grinned. “Is that approval?” “Enormous approval.” “Good.” Deja slipped a hand behind Dakota's neck. “And for the record, you don't have to choose between the two.” Dakota smiled. “I was hoping you'd say that.” They kissed again. It was Saskia who approached them next. Not because she felt compelled to intervene. She simply wanted to see how things were going. “Well,” she said. Dakota looked up. Deja turned. Saskia smiled at both. “Having fun?” Dakota regarded the napkin covered in diagrams. Then Deja. Then burst out laughing. “More than you know.” Saskia noticed the diagram. She leaned closer. Read two labels. Then looked up. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Deja started laughing. Dakota grinned. “What?” “Networking?” “Communications architecture,” Dakota corrected. Saskia stared. Then looked at Deja. “Of course.” Deja smiled innocently. “What?” “I leave you alone with Dakota for half an hour, and you start redesigning infrastructure.” Dakota laughed. “It's a very interesting problem.” “Oh, I'm sure.” Deja reached for Saskia's hand. Saskia accepted. Then shook her head. “You two are hopeless.” “Professionally,” Deja replied. Saskia groaned. “Oh, God. There's two of you now.” Dakota looked at Saskia. “You've had a good evening?” “Wonderful.” “Good.” Saskia squeezed her hand. “And you?” Dakota glanced at Deja. Then smiled. “Rather exceptional.” Saskia's expression warmed. “I'm glad.” There was no hesitation in it. No obligation to pretend. Dakota had known Saskia long enough to recognize sincerity. And she knew that her friend understood something important about the evening. Nobody had come here to claim somebody else's time. They were here because they wanted to be. Saskia turned toward Deja. “Have you been teasing her?” Deja looked scandalized. “Me?” “Yes, you.” “Mercilessly,” Dakota answered. Saskia laughed. “I suspected as much.” Deja sighed. “I'm surrounded by conspirators.” Dakota smiled. “You're coping remarkably well.” “Heroically.” The three talked for a while. Saskia joined the argument about the napkin. She declared that anybody designing a system that required that many arrows deserved to have their tools confiscated. Dakota laughed. Deja defended the design. Saskia pointed out that she'd only understood half of it. Deja said that had never stopped anyone from becoming a consultant. Dakota laughed so hard she almost spilled her water. Eventually Saskia leaned back. “Well.” Deja turned. “Well what?” “I think I've established something.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “What?” “You two are dangerously compatible.” Deja smiled. Dakota laughed. “Is that a professional assessment?” “Absolutely.” “And your qualifications?” Saskia grinned. “I've been watching you both for the last half hour.” Deja shook her head. “Terrible methodology.” “Excellent results.” Dakota smiled. “Can't argue with that.” Saskia looked at them both. Then her expression softened. “I'm happy for you.” Deja squeezed her hand. “Thank you.” Dakota nodded. “Me too.” A slower song began. Saskia glanced toward the floor. Then back at the two women. “Would either of you care to dance?” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Either?” Saskia grinned. “Or both.” Deja laughed. “Ambitious.” “Always.” Dakota considered. Then stood. “Why not?” Saskia smiled. “Excellent.” Deja rose beside them. The three crossed toward the music. For a while, they danced together without making any particular production of it. Saskia was still laughing about the napkin. Dakota occasionally made remarks that caused Deja to grin. And Deja, with her deceptively gentle appearance and merciless sense of timing, seemed determined to make both women laugh at least once per minute. Eventually the music slowed further. Dakota took Deja's hand. Saskia stepped comfortably beside them. For a moment, they stood close. Then Saskia looked between them. “I have a suggestion.” Dakota smiled. “Go on.” Saskia glanced toward the windows. “Somewhere quieter?” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Another engineering discussion?” Saskia stared at her. Then burst out laughing. “Absolutely fucking not.” Dakota grinned. “Shame. I had several improvements in mind.” “Oh, I'm sure you did.” Deja smiled. Saskia shook her head. “Both of you. Unbelievable.” Dakota regarded her. Then laughed softly. “All right. No engineering.” “Promise?” “For at least an hour.” Saskia groaned. “That's the best I'm getting, isn't it?” Deja smiled. “Probably.” They laughed together. Before they moved toward the corridor, Deja looked at both women. “Can I ask something?” Dakota nodded. “Of course.” Saskia smiled. “Anything.” Deja considered. “I've had a wonderful evening with both of you. But I don't want either of you agreeing to something simply because the other seems enthusiastic.” Dakota's expression softened. Saskia nodded. “Fair.” Deja looked at Dakota. “Would you like to spend some time together?” Dakota smiled. “Very much.” Then at Saskia. “And you?” Saskia laughed softly. “Darling, I was the one who suggested it.” Deja grinned. “An important detail.” “Extremely.” Dakota reached for both their hands. “Then I think we're agreed.” Saskia smiled. “Excellent.” Deja looked at her. “Though I reserve the right to discuss engineering.” Saskia groaned. “DEJA!” Dakota burst out laughing. They were halfway toward the corridor when Rogue intercepted them. Not deliberately. She simply happened to be returning from a conversation with the bar manager. She saw the three women holding hands. Stopped. And smiled. “Well.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Rogue.” “Dakota.” Deja smiled. Saskia looked amused. Rogue regarded them. “Enjoying the party?” Dakota laughed. “Enormously.” “Good.” Rogue glanced toward Deja. “And you?” “Very.” “Saskia?” She smiled. “Wonderful evening.” Rogue nodded. “Excellent.” Then her gaze fell on the napkin Dakota was still carrying. The one covered in diagrams. Rogue stared. “What the fuck is that?” Dakota looked down. “Oh.” Deja burst out laughing. Saskia covered her mouth. Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” Dakota smiled. “Communications architecture.” Rogue closed her eyes. “Jesus Christ.” Deja laughed harder. Rogue pointed toward the corridor. “Go.” Saskia grinned. “With pleasure.” “And leave the fucking engineering outside.” Dakota laughed. “Noted.” Rogue watched them continue. Then shook her head. “Unbelievable.” Suzy found her a moment later. “What?” Rogue looked at her. “Dakota.” “Yes?” “Deja.” “Yes?” “Saskia.” Suzy smiled. “Oh?” “They've gone to a private suite.” “Good for them.” Rogue shook her head. “With a napkin full of network diagrams.” Suzy stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, that's magnificent!” Rogue laughed despite herself. “I swear to God, I couldn't invent this shit.” Suzy leaned against her. “You invited interesting people.” “Apparently.” “And you're surprised they found interesting things to talk about?” “Not the talking.” “Then?” Rogue grinned. “The fucking diagrams.” Suzy laughed so hard she had to hold Rogue's arm. Back near the windows, Padre had watched the exchange with amused interest. Nadia noticed his expression. “What?” “Nothing.” She smiled. “Father.” He turned toward her. “Yes?” “That is a remarkably unconvincing answer.” Sera laughed. Padre sighed theatrically. “I see I'm outnumbered.” “Enormously,” Nadia replied. Sera's silver-white hair lifted slightly with her laughter, a faint electric-blue sheen passing across the pale strands. Padre regarded her. “You haven't changed.” Sera smiled. “Would you want me to?” “Good heavens, no.” Nadia laughed. Padre looked between the two artists. Then smiled. “Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something.” Sera raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Yes.” Nadia leaned forward. “About our work?” “In a manner of speaking.” Sera glanced at her collaborator. Nadia looked intrigued. Padre continued. “Both of you create things that challenge people to reconsider what they believe they're seeing.” Sera smiled. “Sometimes.” “Often,” Nadia corrected. Sera laughed. Padre smiled. “And both of you seem to enjoy the moment when somebody realizes their first interpretation was wrong.” Nadia considered. “That's not quite the same thing as wanting to fool people.” “No,” Padre agreed. “It isn't.” Sera looked at him. “Where are you going with this, Sebastian?” He smiled. “I was wondering whether you'd ever considered creating something about forgiveness.” The question changed the atmosphere. Not unpleasantly. But noticeably. Nadia grew thoughtful. Sera's smile softened. “Forgiveness,” she repeated. Padre nodded. “Yes.” Nadia leaned back. “That's a complicated subject.” “It is.” “Because forgiving someone isn't the same as pretending they didn't hurt you.” Padre regarded her. “Precisely.” Sera looked from one to the other. Then smiled slowly. “Oh.” Nadia turned. “What?” Sera's hair lifted another fraction. “I think he may have just given us a rather dangerous idea.” Padre laughed. “Should I apologize?” Nadia grinned. “Not yet.” The conversation continued. But it was different now. More focused. Sera began sketching possibilities in the air with her hands. Nadia challenged the first idea almost immediately. Padre listened, then offered a question that made both artists stop and reconsider. For several minutes, nobody mentioned the party. Then Sera laughed. “Oh, Sebastian.” “Yes?” “Do you have any idea what you've done?” Padre looked amused. “I asked a question.” Nadia shook her head. “You've probably just started three months of work.” He smiled. “Then I hope it will be worthwhile.” Sera looked at Nadia. Nadia looked back. An understanding passed between them. Then both smiled. “Oh, it will,” Nadia said. Rogue noticed them from the bar. Padre had acquired a napkin. Sera was drawing on it. Nadia was gesturing emphatically. Rogue stopped. Looked at Suzy. Then at the artists. “Another fucking napkin?” Suzy followed her gaze. Then began laughing. “Oh, darling.” Rogue shook her head. “First Dakota and Deja. Now Sebastian and the artists.” Suzy smiled. “Apparently your private party has become a convention.” Rogue considered. Then grinned. “A remarkably successful convention.” Suzy laughed. “Of course.” Rogue watched Sera say something that caused Nadia to burst out laughing. Padre smiled. The silver-white hair rose another inch. Rogue shook her head. “You know what?” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I think they're going to make something extraordinary.” “Probably.” “And I won't understand a fucking thing about it.” Suzy laughed. “Also probably.” A little later, Rogue took the microphone. Not loudly. Not with the theatrical announcement Mandi would undoubtedly have preferred. Just a brief adjustment to the room's sound system. The conversations quieted. Guests turned. Suzy looked at her. “Oh, God.” Rogue smiled. “Relax.” “That expression never means anything good.” Rogue ignored her. “Ladies and gentlemen.” The room settled. Those who had returned from private suites looked up with varying degrees of curiosity. Regina and Dalia stood near the refreshment counter. Dalia had recovered her boots and her menthol lollipop. Mandi, Dino, and Tomas had returned together, with Mandi looking so outrageously pleased with herself that several people were already smiling before Rogue spoke. Anna and Wade were standing near the windows. Wakako had returned with Panam. Birgitta was beside Daichi. Deja, Dakota, and Saskia had just rejoined the party. And Padre stood with Sera and Nadia, the napkin bearing their latest idea folded carefully in Sera's hand. Rogue looked around. Then smiled. “I have an announcement.” Mandi immediately shouted, “IS IT ABOUT MY SHOES?” The room erupted in laughter. Rogue closed her eyes. “Mandi.” “YES?” “No.” “DISAPPOINTING!” Suzy laughed. Rogue shook her head. “Anyway.” The room quieted again. “I'd like to thank all of you for coming.” A few people raised their glasses. Rogue continued. “I invited you because I thought it would be interesting to see what happened when people who spend most of their lives solving other people's problems were given an evening without any problems to solve.” Dakota glanced toward Deja. Deja smiled innocently. Saskia whispered, “Unless you count network architecture.” Dakota nearly choked on her drink. Rogue noticed. Her eyebrows rose. “Except apparently some of you couldn't resist.” The room laughed. Rogue smiled. “And I have to admit, you've exceeded my expectations.” She glanced at Suzy. Who smiled back. Then Rogue looked across the gathering. “Which brings me to a challenge.” Regina raised an eyebrow. Dino grinned. Muamar, newly returned from the corridor with Rafael and the Marlow duo, leaned forward. Rogue's smile widened. “Any of you think you can throw a better party?” A delighted murmur spread through the room. Mandi gasped. “Oh, FUCK.” Dalia closed her eyes. “Here we go.” Rogue continued. “I'm serious.” Suzy shook her head, laughing. “Unfortunately, she is.” Rogue raised her glass. “I'm not asking you to outspend me.” She smiled. “I'm asking whether any of you can outdo me.” For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Muamar laughed. “Oh, that's a dangerous challenge.” Dino raised his glass. “Very dangerous.” Regina smiled thoughtfully. Dakota shook her head. Wakako looked amused. And Mr. Hands, standing beside Anna, said something so quietly that only she heard it. Anna turned toward him. Then began laughing. Rogue noticed. “Wade?” He looked up. “Yes?” “Something to contribute?” He considered. Then smiled. “Only that you've set a rather interesting precedent.” Rogue grinned. “Good.” Padre raised his glass. “May heaven help us all.” The room burst out laughing. Rogue lifted her whiskey. “To interesting people.” Glasses rose around the room. “To unexpected company.” More smiles. “And to being pleasantly surprised.” They drank. Then Mandi, unable to contain herself any longer, stood on the lowest step near the bar. “AND TO DALLY!” Dalia stared. “Mandi.” The room erupted. Mandi threw both arms wide. “THE WOMAN, THE MYTH, THE MENACE!” Regina burst out laughing. Deja doubled over. Saskia covered her face. Dalia slowly removed her lollipop. “Mandi.” “YES, SWEETHEART?” “Your shoes.” Mandi stopped smiling. Dalia's grin became positively wicked. “Every. Last. Pair.” Mandi gasped. “YOU WOULDN'T!” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Try me.” Mandi stared at her. Then looked at Rogue. “ROGUE! SHE'S THREATENING MY PROPERTY!” Rogue laughed. “Sounds like a private matter.” “SUZY!” Suzy was laughing too hard to answer. Mandi threw up her hands. “THIS ENTIRE PARTY IS CORRUPT!” And somewhere beneath all that laughter, Night City's most unlikely gathering of friends and strangers found itself agreeing on one thing: Rogue Amendiares had issued a challenge. And somebody, sooner or later, was going to answer it. --- ## Chapter 25 — The Art of Not Making Promises Wakako Okada did not applaud Rogue's challenge. She smiled. It was a small, thoughtful smile, barely noticeable unless one happened to be watching her closely. Panam happened to be watching her closely. “Oh, shit.” Wakako turned. “My dear?” Panam narrowed her eyes. “That look.” “What look?” “The one you've got right now.” Wakako regarded her with serene amusement. “I wasn't aware I had a particular look.” “Bullshit.” Wakako laughed. Panam pointed toward Rogue, who was still accepting congratulations and threats of retaliation in roughly equal measure. “You're thinking about it.” “Thinking about what?” “The challenge.” “Rogue's challenge?” “No, the fucking municipal recycling initiative.” Wakako laughed so suddenly that several nearby guests turned. Panam grinned. “There. Got you.” “My dear Panam, you have a remarkably colorful way of asking questions.” “Comes naturally.” “I've noticed.” Wakako took a measured sip of tea. Then she glanced across the room. Rogue had caught the end of their laughter. More importantly, she'd noticed Wakako's expression. Rogue's eyes narrowed. Wakako raised her cup in a perfectly polite salute. Rogue stared at her. Then mouthed two unmistakable words. Oh, fuck. Panam followed the exchange. And burst out laughing. “You really are planning something,” Panam said. Wakako looked innocent. “I haven't planned anything.” “Yet.” “An important distinction.” “Jesus Christ.” Wakako smiled. “Would you prefer I declined the challenge?” “Hell, no.” “Then why are you looking so concerned?” “Because Rogue's going to spend the next month trying to figure out what you're doing.” “That sounds like Rogue's problem.” Panam stared at her. Then laughed. “Oh, I really fucking like you.” Wakako's expression warmed. “I find the feeling increasingly mutual.” For a moment the exchange lost its teasing edge. Panam looked at her. Wakako returned the look without embarrassment. Their evening had already changed something between them. Not an obligation. Not a declaration of anything permanent. Simply the discovery that spending time together felt unexpectedly natural. Then Panam smiled. “You know she's going to interrogate me.” “Rogue?” “Who else?” Wakako considered. “What will you tell her?” “The truth.” “A commendable policy.” “That I don't know a damn thing.” Wakako laughed. “Exactly.” Panam shook her head. “You're enjoying this already.” “Immensely.” --- At the far end of the bar, Rogue was having an entirely different conversation. Muamar Reyes had decided that the challenge required immediate clarification. “Define better.” Rogue looked at him. “Excuse me?” “You challenged us to throw a better party. I want to know the criteria.” Dino nodded enthusiastically. “Good question.” Regina, standing nearby, smiled. “An excellent question, actually.” Rogue looked between them. “You're fixers. Work it out.” Muamar grinned. “That's not how competitions work.” “It's how mine works.” “Then you need judges.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Do I?” “Obviously.” “Why?” “To prevent corruption.” Suzy started laughing. Rogue stared at Muamar. “Prevent corruption?” “Absolutely.” “At a competition between Night City fixers?” Dino burst out laughing. Regina covered her mouth. Muamar considered. Then nodded. “Fair point.” Rogue shook her head. “You magnificent idiots.” Suzy leaned against her. “Darling, you did invite them.” “Yes, and I'm beginning to question my judgment.” “About twenty years too late,” Dino observed. Rogue turned. “Want to lose your invitation to the next one?” Dino raised both hands. “Love you too, Rogue.” --- Rafael joined them carrying a glass of water. Nova and Vega followed, having stopped briefly to talk with a member of the catering staff who had impressed Vega by knowing exactly where the good coffee was kept. Vega caught the final part of Muamar's argument. “Wait. You want rules?” Muamar turned. “For the challenge.” Vega stared. Then looked at Nova. Nova sighed. “Oh, no.” “What?” “Don't.” Vega turned back toward Muamar. “Captain, you spent half the evening explaining how you successfully completed a delivery despite failing to deliver the original cargo.” Muamar laughed. “That again?” “And now you're demanding transparent judging criteria?” Rafael started grinning. Nova added, “I imagine he wants an appeals process too.” Vega snapped her fingers. “YES!” Muamar pointed at both women. “You're enjoying this far too much.” Nova smiled. “We've had an excellent teacher.” Dino burst out laughing. Rogue watched the exchange with undisguised satisfaction. Then she raised her glass. “Fine. You want one rule?” Muamar straightened. “Go on.” “Don't bore me.” A small silence followed. Then Vega slapped the counter. “OH, I LIKE THAT RULE!” --- Padre arrived just in time to hear the resulting laughter. He looked at Rogue. “Sebastian,” she said immediately, “don't.” “I haven't said anything.” “You were about to.” “Only that I wonder whether you appreciate the consequences of inviting competitive people to exercise their imaginations.” Rogue smiled. “Oh, I appreciate them.” Padre regarded her. “Do you?” “Every last one.” He sighed. “Then may God protect the city's hospitality industry.” The laughter returned. Sera, standing beside him, was laughing hard enough that the tips of her silver-white hair began to lift. Nadia looked delighted. “Sebastian, you are giving me ideas.” Padre closed his eyes. “Apparently that is becoming a habit.” Rogue turned toward the two artists. “Oh, no.” Sera smiled. “What?” “Whatever you're thinking, stop.” Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Because I know that expression.” Sera looked offended. “Rogue!” “You once helped turn an art installation into something that required an emergency structural inspection.” Sera considered. “That was a misunderstanding.” Nadia nodded solemnly. “A fascinating misunderstanding.” Rogue stared. Padre smiled. “I gather there is a story.” “There are several,” Rogue said. Sera's hair rose another inch. “And all of them have happy endings.” “That's debatable.” --- The laughter eventually subsided, and the gathering began dividing into smaller conversations again. Not because the evening was ending. Simply because the challenge had given everyone something new to think about. Dino was already discussing music with Tomas. Muamar appeared determined to identify a venue with enough space for an absurdly ambitious idea involving vehicles. Regina had told Adrian she had no intention of making any promises while under the influence of excellent vodka. He had congratulated her on her entirely unprecedented restraint. Mr. Hands said almost nothing. That, Rogue thought, was probably the most worrying reaction of all. And Wakako— Rogue turned. There she was. Still near the windows. Still with Panam. Still smiling. Rogue finished her drink. Then walked toward them. “Wakako.” “Rogue.” “Palmer.” Panam grinned. “Amendiares.” Rogue looked between them. Both women seemed extraordinarily pleased with themselves. She disliked this immediately. “Enjoying the evening?” “Very much,” Wakako replied. “Good.” Panam nodded. “Best party I've been to in ages.” Rogue smiled. “Glad to hear it.” A pause. Wakako sipped her tea. Panam studied the ceiling with exaggerated innocence. Rogue narrowed her eyes. “All right.” Wakako looked up. “All right what?” “What are you planning?” “Planning?” “Don't do that.” “Do what, my dear?” “That thing where you pretend you haven't understood a perfectly straightforward question.” Wakako smiled. Panam pressed her lips together. Rogue pointed at her. “And you can stop laughing.” “Wasn't laughing.” “You're about to.” “Can't prove it.” Rogue stared. Panam lost the fight and burst out laughing. Wakako's own laughter followed a moment later. Rogue slowly looked between them. “Oh, this is going to be a fucking nightmare.” Wakako set down her cup. “Rogue, my dear, you have issued a challenge.” “Yes.” “And presumably you would like someone to accept it.” “Of course.” “Then why are you so suspicious when people consider doing so?” “Because I know you.” Wakako inclined her head. “A generous compliment.” “Not intended as one.” “Nevertheless.” Panam laughed again. Rogue sighed. “Are you accepting?” Wakako considered. Then smiled. “I haven't decided.” Rogue stared. “You haven't decided.” “No.” “Bullshit.” “Such language.” “Wakako.” “Rogue.” Panam leaned against the window frame, openly enjoying herself. Wakako continued. “An evening like this deserves a thoughtful response. I wouldn't insult you by offering something hastily conceived.” Rogue's expression changed. Just slightly. She understood that answer. Perhaps better than anybody else in the room. Wakako wasn't interested in winning through extravagance alone. She understood that a memorable evening wasn't simply a matter of spending enough money to impress people. The people themselves mattered. Their comfort. Their freedom to enjoy one another. And the peculiar alchemy by which an ordinary conversation became something unexpected. Rogue looked at her for a long moment. Then smiled. “That's a very interesting answer.” Wakako returned the smile. “I thought you might appreciate it.” Rogue nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Panam looked from one to the other. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Both women turned. “What?” Rogue asked. Panam threw up her hands. “Now you're both doing it.” “Doing what?” Wakako asked. “That terrifyingly polite bullshit where you're practically declaring war without raising your voices.” Rogue burst out laughing. Wakako covered her mouth. Panam shook her head. “Unbelievable.” --- Birgitta chose that moment to arrive with Daichi. She took one look at Panam's expression. Then at Wakako's. Then at Rogue. “Oh, dear.” Panam turned. “Sweetheart.” “Owner.” Birgitta's expression was suspiciously innocent. “Am I interrupting?” Rogue looked at her. “Not unless you're planning something too.” Birgitta blinked. “Me?” Panam started laughing. Daichi smiled. Birgitta looked scandalized. “Rogue, I'm a perfectly well-behaved young woman.” Rogue stared at her. Panam laughed harder. Wakako regarded her nephew, who was trying not to grin. Then she looked back at Birgitta. “My dear, I don't believe that for a moment.” Birgitta's eyes widened. Then she burst out laughing. “That's terribly unfair!” Daichi leaned closer. “You did tell me earlier that behaving was overrated.” Birgitta turned on him. “Traitor!” He laughed. Panam slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Having fun?” Birgitta smiled up at her. “Very much, Owner.” “Good.” She kissed Birgitta's forehead. Then regarded Daichi. “And you?” He nodded. “Wonderful evening.” Wakako's expression softened. “I'm glad.” Birgitta glanced between her and Panam. Her smile grew positively luminous. “Oh.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything!” “You were about to.” Birgitta laughed. “Perhaps.” Rogue looked at the three of them. Then at Wakako. Then shook her head. “I'm surrounded.” --- A little later, Anna found Rogue by the bar. Wade was accompanying her. Rogue looked up. “Enjoying yourselves?” Anna smiled. “Very.” Wade nodded. “An exceptional evening.” Rogue grinned. “High praise from you.” “Deserved.” She studied him. Something had changed. He was still Wade Bleecker. Still composed. Still possessed of that unmistakable talent for making himself difficult to read. But his smile came more easily. And Anna stood beside him with an air of comfortable affection that didn't seem interested in making demands. Rogue liked the sight. “So,” she said, “planning to accept my challenge?” Wade considered. “I believe it would be unwise to answer that tonight.” Rogue's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “An undertaking of this kind requires careful consideration.” Anna turned toward him. A smile spread across her face. “Wade.” “Yes?” “That's an extraordinarily elaborate way of saying you're tempted.” He laughed. “Perhaps.” Rogue pointed at him. “Ha!” Wade looked amused. Anna shook her head. “You see? You've encouraged her.” “Apparently.” Rogue leaned forward. “Do it.” Wade raised an eyebrow. “Rogue.” “I'm serious.” “I know.” “You'd be good at it.” He considered. Then glanced at Anna. She smiled. Not urging. Not deciding for him. Simply interested. Wade looked back at Rogue. “Perhaps,” he said, “we'll discuss it another evening.” Rogue grinned. “Oh, you bastard.” Anna laughed. Across the room, Deja had finally found a moment alone with Dakota. Not entirely alone. Saskia was only a few steps away, talking with Adrian. But the music had softened, and the two women stood together beside the windows. Dakota held a fresh glass of water. Deja leaned against the frame. For once, neither was arguing about communications architecture. Dakota seemed faintly disappointed by this. Deja noticed. “Something wrong?” “No.” “You miss our napkin.” Dakota looked at her. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, that's terrible.” “Am I wrong?” “Not entirely.” Deja grinned. “I knew it.” Dakota shook her head. “You really are impossible.” “Frequently.” Dakota studied her for a moment. Then smiled. “Would you like to know something?” “Always.” “I've enjoyed talking to you more than almost anything else tonight.” Deja's expression softened. “That's a lovely thing to say.” “I mean it.” “I know.” Dakota touched her hand. “And I'd like to do it again.” Deja smiled. “So would I.” “Without Rogue's entire guest list watching.” “An interesting proposal.” Dakota laughed. “Dinner, perhaps.” “Dinner sounds wonderful.” “And maybe we can finally settle our disagreement about redundant communication paths.” Deja stared. Then laughed. “Dakota!” “What?” “You're inviting me on a date to continue an engineering argument?” Dakota looked entirely unrepentant. “Partly.” Deja stepped closer. “And the other part?” Dakota smiled. “To spend time with a woman I find very attractive.” Deja's expression warmed. “Oh.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “That,” Deja said, “is a much better answer.” She kissed her. Dakota returned it, smiling. When they separated, Deja leaned closer. “And for the record, your redundant-path argument was still wrong.” Dakota burst out laughing. “Oh, you're going to pay for that.” Deja grinned. “Looking forward to it.” --- It was sometime after that when Padre found himself standing beside Rogue again. He had acquired another whiskey. Rogue looked at him. “Sebastian.” “Rogue.” “Still alive?” “Miraculously.” She laughed. He took a small sip. Then regarded the room. “You've done something rather special tonight.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Yes.” She waited. Padre smiled. “Look at them.” Rogue did. Regina was talking with Dalia near the windows, both women laughing. Mandi had returned to the bar with Dino and Tomas, apparently conducting a loud argument about the ethics of borrowing expensive shoes. Muamar and Rafael were enjoying another conversation with Nova and Vega. Wakako and Panam sat together, Birgitta and Daichi nearby. Anna had drawn another genuine laugh from Wade. Sera and Nadia were examining their folded napkin of ideas with an enthusiasm that suggested Padre's question about forgiveness had taken root. Dakota, Deja, and Saskia were talking quietly. And Suzy— Suzy was watching Rogue. Smiling. Padre followed her gaze. Then returned his attention to Rogue. “Not bad for an evening without an agenda.” Rogue laughed softly. “There was an agenda.” “Was there?” “Of course.” “And what was it?” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “To see whether people could remember how to have a fucking good time.” Padre laughed. “Then I would say you've succeeded.” Rogue raised her glass. “I'll drink to that.” They touched glasses. Padre remained beside her. After a moment, he spoke again. “You know what interests me?” “What?” “Your challenge.” Rogue grinned. “Planning to compete?” Padre laughed. “Heavens, no.” “Shame.” “I prefer to leave certain disasters to professionals.” She laughed. Then he continued. “But I suspect you've created something larger than a competition.” Rogue regarded him. “Oh?” “Yes.” “Such as?” “A reason for people to meet again.” She considered. Padre looked around the room. “Some of these people may never have spent an evening together otherwise.” “True.” “And some of them have discovered rather unexpected affinities.” Rogue smiled. “Also true.” “Perhaps the question isn't whether someone can throw a better party.” “Then what is it?” Padre smiled. “Whether they can create another evening worth remembering.” Rogue looked at him for a long moment. Then her grin returned. “Sebastian.” “Yes?” “That's annoyingly insightful.” He bowed his head. “I do try.” --- Suzy joined them. She slipped an arm around Rogue's waist. “What's he done now?” Rogue turned. “Made a point.” Suzy looked at Padre. “Dangerous habit.” “I've been told.” Rogue smiled. “He thinks my challenge isn't really about winning.” Suzy considered. Then laughed. “Oh, darling.” “What?” “Did you think it was?” Rogue stared at her. Padre began smiling. Suzy kissed Rogue's cheek. “You wanted them to enjoy themselves.” “Yes.” “And now you want someone to arrange another evening so you can enjoy watching them surprise one another all over again.” Rogue opened her mouth. Then closed it. Padre laughed softly. Suzy smiled. “Am I wrong?” Rogue considered. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck both of you.” Suzy laughed. Padre raised his glass. “An unusually gracious concession.” --- Near the windows, Panam noticed Rogue laughing. She smiled. Wakako followed her gaze. “Something amusing?” “Rogue's having a good time.” “Yes.” “Even when people are making fun of her.” Wakako smiled. “Especially then, I suspect.” Panam looked at her. Then narrowed her eyes. “You're doing it again.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?” “Thinking.” “My dear, I do try to make a habit of it.” “Dangerous habit.” “So I'm told.” Panam leaned closer. “Come on. One hint.” “About?” “You know damn well about what.” Wakako regarded her. Then smiled. “Very well.” Panam straightened. “Oh?” “One hint.” “I'm listening.” Wakako looked around the room. At the laughter. The conversations. The music. The extraordinary collection of people Rogue had brought together. Then she turned back toward Panam. “If I were to accept Rogue's challenge…” Panam waited. Wakako's smile became almost imperceptibly mischievous. “…I would not begin by choosing a venue.” Panam stared. Then frowned. “What?” Wakako took another sip of tea. “That is your hint.” Panam looked at her. Then toward Rogue. Then back. “Oh, you evil woman.” Wakako laughed. Panam shook her head. “Goddammit, now I'm curious.” “Good.” “That's all I get?” “For tonight.” Panam looked scandalized. “Wakako!” “My dear?” “You can't just say something like that and stop!” Wakako's eyes sparkled. “Apparently I can.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, Rogue is so fucking doomed.” Wakako simply smiled. And said nothing. By the time the music changed again, the celebration had reached that peculiar point where nobody was particularly concerned with what time it was. Some guests had begun talking about leaving. None appeared in much of a hurry. There were coats to collect eventually. Private transport waiting downstairs. Messages that would need answering tomorrow. But tonight still belonged to them. And Rogue, standing beside Suzy with a glass of excellent whiskey, had begun to realize something she hadn't anticipated when she'd first imagined the party. She didn't particularly care who accepted her challenge. She cared that somebody would. Because then there would be another evening. Another gathering. Another chance to watch Night City's hardest, strangest, most stubborn people discover they had reasons to laugh together. Suzy touched her hand. “What?” Rogue looked at her. “Nothing.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Rogue.” She laughed. “All right.” “I'm listening.” Rogue glanced around the room. Then smiled. “I think we might have started something.” Suzy followed her gaze. At the fixers. Their companions. The eleven extraordinary women who had transformed the evening in ways even Rogue hadn't predicted. Then Suzy smiled. “Oh, darling.” “What?” “I think we absolutely have.” And near the windows, Wakako Okada quietly finished her tea. Still smiling. Still making no promises. Which, to anyone who knew her well, was considerably more ominous than an outright declaration of war. --- ## Chapter 26 — The Price of Curiosity “Japantown.” Rogue turned. “What?” Suzy looked perfectly innocent. “I said Japantown.” “I heard you.” “Then why ask?” “Because you said it like you know something.” Suzy smiled. “Oh, darling. Everybody knows something.” Rogue stared at her. “That sounded suspiciously rehearsed.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't a compliment.” “I've decided to take it as one.” Rogue looked at the woman beside her. The expression on Suzy's face was positively unbearable. Rogue recognized it. It was the same expression Suzy wore when she'd been presented with an opportunity to irritate someone she loved and had decided that resisting would be a tragic waste of talent. “Suzy.” “Yes, sweetheart?” “What do you know?” “About?” “Wakako.” “Lovely woman.” “Her plans.” “Excellent taste.” “SUZY.” Suzy burst out laughing. Rogue closed her eyes. “Christ. You've been spending too much time with Mandi.” “Possibly.” “She corrupts people.” “Rogue, darling, I was running Lizzie's long before that little orange catastrophe came through the door.” “Fair.” “I was perfectly capable of being difficult before meeting her.” Rogue laughed. “That's certainly true.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “Now stop interrogating me. I haven't the faintest idea what Wakako is planning.” Rogue studied her. Then frowned. “You really don't.” “No.” “Then why Japantown?” Suzy shrugged. “Because if I were Wakako, I'd rather demonstrate what I can do on my own ground than try to compete with you in Corpo Plaza.” Rogue went quiet. Suzy noticed. “Oh.” Rogue turned toward her. “What?” “That got you thinking.” “No.” “Liar.” Rogue looked across the room. Wakako was laughing at something Panam had said. Then she looked back at Suzy. “Fuck.” Suzy's delighted laughter followed her all the way to the bar. Wakako, meanwhile, had discovered a particularly enjoyable disadvantage to spending time with Panam Palmer. The woman was impossible to intimidate. This was refreshing. She was also impossible to distract once she'd become curious. This was proving inconvenient. “One hint,” Panam said. “I already gave you one.” “That wasn't a hint. That was a fucking philosophical riddle.” Wakako smiled. “Was it?” “‘I wouldn't begin by choosing a venue.’ What the hell does that mean?” “It means I wouldn't begin by choosing a venue.” Panam stared at her. Wakako took another sip of tea. Panam looked toward the ceiling. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” A low laugh came from behind them. Daichi. Birgitta stood beside him, looking positively delighted. “Something wrong, Owner?” Panam turned. “Yes.” Birgitta blinked. “Oh?” “Your friend's aunt is tormenting me.” Daichi laughed. Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Tormenting?” “Relentlessly.” “My dear, I've simply declined to explain a hypothetical plan that doesn't yet exist.” Panam pointed at her. “THAT!” Birgitta burst out laughing. “Oh, Owner.” “What?” “You're enjoying this.” Panam opened her mouth. Closed it. Then grinned. “Maybe.” Wakako smiled. “Good.” Daichi looked at his aunt. “Auntie.” “Yes?” “Should I be worried?” “About what?” He gestured toward Rogue, who was studying Wakako from the far end of the bar. “That.” Wakako followed his gaze. The two fixers regarded one another across the room. Then Wakako raised her teacup. Rogue raised her whiskey. Neither smiled. For three perfectly serious seconds. Then both did. Daichi shook his head. “Oh, no.” Birgitta looked up at him. “What?” “I know that expression.” “Whose?” “My aunt's.” Wakako turned. “Daichi.” He smiled innocently. “Yes, Auntie?” “Don't.” Panam burst out laughing. --- Near the bar, Mandi was conducting a post-experimental review. Dino and Tomas were enduring it with remarkable patience. “The preliminary results,” Mandi announced, “are extremely encouraging.” Dino nodded solemnly. “Excellent.” Tomas folded his arms. “Any areas requiring improvement?” Mandi considered. “Several.” Dino looked offended. “Several?” “Research is an ongoing process.” “Of course.” “Further trials may be necessary.” Tomas smiled. “Repeated trials?” “Absolutely.” “Same participants?” Mandi regarded him. Then grinned. “Now there's an intelligent question.” Dino laughed. Mandi pointed at him. “And YOU.” “Yes?” “Stop looking so pleased with yourself.” “Why?” “Because you're making it difficult for me to pretend I'm a serious scientist.” Tomas started laughing. Dino leaned toward her. “Mandi.” “Yes, darling?” “Your shoes.” Her expression changed instantly. “What about them?” “Are they comfortable?” She stared. Then narrowed her black-contact eyes. “That's suspicious.” “I was going to ask whether you'd like to sit down.” “Oh.” He smiled. “That's all.” Mandi considered. Then laughed. “Fine. You're forgiven.” “For what?” “Whatever you were about to do.” Tomas shook his head. “Wonderful system of justice.” “Fast and efficient.” --- Dalia arrived with Regina. Her neonpink dreadlocks were neatly gathered over one shoulder, and a fresh menthol lollipop occupied its usual position between her lips. Mandi spotted her. Her entire face lit up. “DALLY!” Dalia stopped. Regina began laughing immediately. Dalia slowly turned. “Mandi.” “YES, SWEETHEART?” “Remember our discussion about your shoes?” Mandi's smile vanished. “Dally.” “Careful.” “We're friends.” “Are we?” “BEST FRIENDS.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “Then why are you trying to shorten my life?” Mandi placed a hand over her heart. “Because I love you.” Regina covered her mouth. Tomas was grinning. Dino looked between the two women with enormous interest. Dalia considered Mandi. Then smiled. “Oh, sweetheart.” Mandi immediately looked suspicious. “What?” “I've just thought of something.” “WHAT?” “You know that pink pair you ordered last week?” Mandi went absolutely still. “The what?” Dalia smiled. “The pink ones.” Mandi's eyes widened. “Dally.” “With the ridiculous heels.” “DALLY.” “The pair you said you would commit crimes for.” “DALLYYYY!” Dalia tilted her head. “Wouldn't it be tragic if the delivery went somewhere else?” Mandi gasped. Dino burst out laughing. Tomas turned away, shoulders shaking. Regina had to lean against the bar. Mandi pointed at Dalia. “YOU ARE A MONSTER.” Dalia smiled serenely. “Professionally.” Mandi stared at her. Then looked toward Dino. “She's threatening innocent footwear.” Dino nodded. “Terrible.” “Tomas!” He raised both hands. “I'm staying out of this.” “COWARD!” Dalia returned the lollipop to her mouth. Then gave Mandi an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Love you too, menace.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. There was a pause. Then— “Dally?” Dalia sighed. “Yes?” “Could you at least make sure they arrive before Friday?” Regina dissolved into laughter. --- Regina stayed beside Dalia while Mandi returned to tormenting her two companions. For a moment she watched the little neon-orange whirlwind. Then turned toward Dalia. “You're very fond of her.” Dalia smiled. “Unfortunately.” “You say that a lot.” “With good reason.” Regina laughed. Dalia glanced toward Mandi. The smaller woman was enthusiastically explaining something to Dino, using both hands and enough dramatic gestures to alarm the bartender. Then Dalia looked back. “She can be exhausting.” “I've noticed.” “And loud.” “Very.” “And completely fucking impossible.” Regina nodded. “Certainly.” Dalia's expression softened. “And she's one of the best people I know.” Regina regarded her. That last statement hadn't been delivered as a joke. Dalia meant it. Regina smiled. “I believe you.” Dalia turned toward her. “Good.” Regina touched her hand. “Would you like to dance again?” Dalia's grin returned. “Darling, I thought you'd never ask.” They passed Deja and Saskia on their way to the floor. Deja caught Dalia's eye. A smile. A little tilt of the head. Dalia paused. “Well, hello, beautiful.” Deja laughed. “Having fun?” “Enormously.” “Good.” She glanced at Regina. “Likewise?” Regina smiled. “Very much.” Saskia looked between them. Then grinned. “Excellent.” Dalia regarded the two women. “You're both looking suspiciously pleased.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Are we?” “Very.” Saskia laughed. “Perhaps we're simply enjoying ourselves.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” She touched Deja's arm. They exchanged a brief, familiar kiss, comfortable enough to draw no surprise from Saskia. Regina watched with interest rather than concern. Dalia turned back toward her. “Shall we?” Regina offered her hand. “Please.” As they moved away, Saskia leaned toward Deja. “She's lovely when she stops threatening people.” Deja smiled. “She can manage both simultaneously.” Saskia laughed. “I've noticed.” --- At the windows, Wade Bleecker was faced with a question that no amount of careful professional preparation could answer. Anna had asked him whether he enjoyed surprises. He considered it. “Generally, no.” She laughed. “I thought so.” “Professionally, surprises tend to be expensive.” “And personally?” He glanced at her. “Tonight has been a rather persuasive argument in their favor.” Anna smiled. “Very diplomatic.” “Thank you.” “Also evasive.” He laughed softly. “You really don't miss much.” “Occupational habit.” He regarded her. She was watching the room with open interest, seemingly just as comfortable observing other people's happiness as enjoying her own. Wade liked that. Then Anna turned toward him. “May I ask another question?” “Of course.” “Did you mean what you said earlier?” “About?” “Possibly arranging an evening of your own.” He considered. “Yes.” Anna's expression brightened. “Oh?” “Possibly.” She laughed. “There it is again.” “What?” “That magnificent talent for answering questions without committing yourself to anything.” Wade smiled. “It has served me well.” “I don't doubt it.” He looked across the reception area. At Rogue. At Wakako. At Muamar, who was arguing with Rafael about something apparently involving transport capacity. Then he looked back. “If I ever accepted this challenge, I wouldn't approach it as Rogue did.” Anna nodded. “I'd be surprised if you did.” “Nor would I be interested in demonstrating wealth.” “I suspected as much.” “Then what would interest you?” Wade paused. Anna smiled. “Ah. That got your attention.” He laughed. “Indeed.” She considered. “Something that makes people curious.” “Curious?” “Not impressed. Not obligated. Curious.” Wade regarded her. Then smiled slowly. “That's an interesting distinction.” “I thought you might appreciate it.” He looked toward the windows. For a moment he was silent. Then he laughed under his breath. Anna turned. “What?” “Nothing.” “Wade.” He smiled. “I believe you've just made a rather dangerous suggestion.” Anna's eyes brightened. “Have I?” “Yes.” “Wonderful.” He shook his head. “You are trouble.” She smiled. “Only for people who mistake curiosity for something harmless.” --- Padre had finally convinced Sera and Nadia to put away their napkin. Not without resistance. Sera looked offended. “Sebastian.” “Yes?” “We're working.” “At a party.” “Artists don't stop being artists at parties.” “No,” Padre agreed. “But even artists occasionally eat.” Nadia laughed. “Owner would agree with that.” Sera smiled. “She would.” Padre looked between them. “Then perhaps we should all listen to her.” Nadia grinned. “An excellent policy.” Sera's silver-white hair lifted slightly. Padre noticed. Then smiled. “I remember another occasion when your hair did that.” Sera looked at him. “Which one?” “A wedding.” Her expression warmed. “Oh.” Padre laughed softly. “Quite an unforgettable wedding, as I recall.” Sera smiled. “It was.” Nadia glanced between them. She knew enough about Sera's life to understand that Padre was referring to an important memory. She didn't ask for details in the middle of the party. Instead, she touched Sera's hand. Sera squeezed it. Padre watched the exchange with quiet affection. Then Nadia smiled. “Fine. Food.” Sera sighed theatrically. “You're both conspiring against me.” “Absolutely,” Padre said. Nadia laughed. “And it's working.” They reached the buffet just as Mandi arrived. This was unfortunate. Or wonderful. Depending on one's opinion. Mandi stopped. Looked at Padre. Then at the food. Then at Sera. Her black-contact eyes widened. “Oh.” Sera smiled. “Hello, Mandi.” “SERA!” “Yes?” “Important question.” Padre closed his eyes. “Oh, dear.” Mandi looked offended. “I haven't asked it yet!” Nadia began laughing. Sera tilted her head. “Go on.” Mandi pointed toward a magnificent arrangement of desserts. “Is that chocolate?” Sera considered. “I believe so.” “REAL chocolate?” Padre looked at the display. Then at Mandi. “I suspect it is.” Mandi stared. Then whispered reverently, “Holy fucking shit.” Padre burst out laughing. Nadia covered her mouth. Sera's hair lifted another inch. Mandi looked at Padre. Then smiled. “Sorry, Padre.” “For?” “The language.” He regarded her. Then smiled. “My dear, I officiate weddings in Night City. I've heard considerably worse.” Mandi gasped. “YOU HAVE?” Nadia laughed so hard she had to hold the edge of the table. Sera put a hand over her face. Padre shook his head. “Mandi.” “Yes?” “Eat your chocolate.” “YES, PADRE.” --- Much later, Rogue found Wakako alone at the windows. Panam had gone to speak with Birgitta and Daichi. For once, the two fixers had a moment without an audience. Rogue approached. Wakako didn't turn immediately. “I wondered when you'd come.” Rogue stopped. “Of course you did.” Wakako smiled at the city. “Enjoying your evening?” “Immensely.” “Good.” Rogue joined her at the window. A comfortable silence followed. Then Rogue spoke. “Japantown?” Wakako turned. Her eyebrows rose. “Rogue?” “Or Kabuki?” Wakako regarded her. Then smiled. “Are you asking where I might hold a hypothetical gathering?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I want to know.” Wakako laughed softly. “An admirably direct answer.” Rogue folded her arms. “Well?” Wakako considered the city. Then looked back. “My dear Rogue.” “Yes?” “If I were to arrange an evening, I would want it to be memorable for the people attending.” “Obviously.” “Not merely an impressive venue.” “Agreed.” “Not expensive refreshments.” “Although those help.” Wakako smiled. “Certainly.” Rogue waited. Wakako's eyes sparkled. “And I would want people to feel that they had been invited for a reason.” Rogue considered. Then nodded. “Fair.” “So perhaps,” Wakako continued, “the first question is not where I would invite them.” “Then what?” Wakako smiled. “Whom.” Rogue stared. A long moment passed. Then she laughed. “Oh, you clever old bastard.” Wakako's laughter was immediate. “Rogue!” “No, seriously.” Rogue pointed at her. “You're not going to reproduce tonight.” “No.” “You're going to change the guest list.” Wakako inclined her head. “Perhaps.” “And the whole bloody dynamic.” “Possibly.” Rogue studied her. Then grinned. “Oh, I love this.” Wakako's expression warmed. “Do you?” “Absolutely.” “Then we understand one another.” Rogue laughed. “Not entirely. You still haven't told me a damned thing.” Wakako took a final sip of tea. “And yet you've enjoyed the conversation.” Rogue stared at her. Then burst out laughing. “Christ. Panam never stood a chance.” Wakako's smile became unexpectedly tender. “Panam has been wonderful company.” Rogue's laughter softened. “Yeah?” “Very.” She looked across the room. Panam was speaking with Birgitta, her expression warm and animated. Wakako watched her for a moment. Then smiled. Rogue noticed. And, for once, decided not to tease. Instead, she raised her glass. “To surprises.” Wakako raised her empty teacup. “To worthwhile ones.” The music slowed. Not to announce the end of the party, but because the hour had become one in which people preferred conversation to spectacle. Dino and Tomas had settled near the bar with Mandi. Regina and Dalia were dancing. Dakota, Deja, and Saskia had resumed their argument about whether engineers were constitutionally incapable of enjoying a social evening without redesigning something. Muamar was trying to persuade Rafael that a party involving moving vehicles could be entirely safe. Rafael remained unconvinced. Nova had asked one question about emergency braking distances. Vega had immediately accused the entire conversation of becoming a fucking transport safety seminar. Anna and Wade stood together near the windows. Padre was enjoying dessert with Sera and Nadia. Birgitta and Daichi laughed beside Panam. And Rogue— Rogue stood with Wakako, smiling. Suzy approached. Looked at both women. And sighed. “Oh, dear.” Rogue turned. “What?” Suzy folded her arms. “Whatever you've just discussed, I'm fairly certain it's going to cost somebody a fortune.” Wakako smiled. “Not necessarily.” Suzy looked at her. Then at Rogue. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, that's worse.” Rogue grinned. “Much.” Wakako regarded them both. Then said, perfectly calmly, “I do hope you'll both accept an invitation from me someday.” Rogue went still. Suzy stopped laughing. For one remarkable moment, neither spoke. Then Rogue narrowed her eyes. “Wakako.” “Yes, my dear?” “Was that an acceptance?” Wakako smiled. “It was an expression of hope.” Suzy burst out laughing. Rogue pointed at her. “You are a menace.” Wakako inclined her head. “I have been called worse.” Rogue's grin widened. “Fine.” She raised her whiskey. “Whenever you're ready.” Wakako looked at the glass. Then at Rogue. And smiled. “I shall keep that in mind.” Across the room, Panam noticed the exchange. She couldn't hear the words. She didn't need to. Rogue was laughing. Suzy was laughing. And Wakako looked so magnificently pleased with herself that Panam immediately understood one thing. Whatever happened next, it wasn't going to be ordinary. Birgitta followed her gaze. “Owner?” “Yeah?” “Something funny?” Panam grinned. “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “I think Rogue's just discovered that challenging Wakako is a very dangerous hobby.” Daichi laughed. Birgitta's smile widened. “Should we be worried?” Panam considered. Then looked back at the two fixers. “No.” She smiled. “We should be fucking delighted.” And somewhere in the glittering, sleepless sprawl of Night City, Kabuki and Japantown continued their ordinary business, blissfully unaware that they had just become subjects of an extremely interesting conversation. No venue had been selected. No invitation had been written. No promises had been made. But Rogue Amendiares was already smiling at the prospect of becoming someone else's guest. And Wakako Okada? She was still smiling. Which was considerably more dangerous. --- ## Chapter 27 — The Shape of Things to Come Rogue Amendiares was not accustomed to being outmaneuvered at her own parties. That wasn't to say it never happened. She'd spent enough years dealing with dangerous people to know that certainty was usually the first step toward making a spectacular fool of yourself. But she did generally prefer to recognize the trap before walking into it. Wakako Okada had somehow managed to make Rogue suspicious of an event that hadn't even been announced. It was impressive. It was also irritating. And Suzy Q was enjoying every fucking second. “You're doing it again.” Rogue turned. “Doing what?” “Looking at Wakako.” “I'm allowed to look at my guests.” “Of course.” “It's my party.” “Nobody's disputing that.” Rogue narrowed her eyes. Suzy smiled. “Darling, you've checked on her six times in the last fifteen minutes.” “I have not.” “Seven, if we count just now.” Rogue stared. Then laughed. “You've been counting?” “Somebody has to.” “Christ.” Suzy leaned closer. “She's got you.” “She's got nothing.” “Oh, sweetheart.” “What?” “Wakako has you worrying about the guest list of a party she hasn't agreed to host.” Rogue opened her mouth. Closed it. Then took a drink. Suzy burst out laughing. “THERE it is!” Rogue shook her head. “I hate you.” “Liar.” “Professionally.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “Fortunately, I'm very fond of you.” --- At the windows, Wakako watched Rogue's expression change. Panam followed her gaze. “What?” “Nothing.” Panam groaned. “Oh, not that again.” Wakako laughed. “My dear, I haven't said anything.” “That's the fucking problem.” “You find silence objectionable?” “Your silence? Absolutely.” Wakako smiled. Panam shook her head. “You have any idea what Rogue's doing right now?” “Enjoying her party, I hope.” “Trying to figure out what you're plotting.” “I haven't plotted anything.” “Yet.” “Precisely.” Panam stared at her. Then began laughing. “Goddammit.” Wakako's expression softened. “Does the possibility amuse you?” “Are you kidding?” “Then I see no difficulty.” Panam grinned. “Oh, I see one.” “Yes?” “If you actually do this, you're going to have to deal with Mandi.” Wakako tilted her head. “The petite woman with the orange hair?” “That's the one.” “She seems delightful.” Panam looked at her. Then laughed so hard she had to put down her glass. “Oh, Wakako.” “What?” “You have absolutely no idea.” --- Mandi, meanwhile, was examining a dessert with the sort of attention normally reserved for rare gemstones. Dino stood beside her. Tomas watched with amusement. Mandi leaned closer to the display. “Is that gold?” Dino looked. “Edible gold leaf, I think.” Mandi stared. Then turned. “They put GOLD on CHOCOLATE?” Tomas nodded. “Apparently.” She considered this for a long moment. Then whispered, “This city is magnificent.” Dino laughed. Tomas shook his head. Mandi selected a small chocolate confection, examined it, and took a bite. Her expression changed immediately. “Oh.” Dino smiled. “Good?” Mandi closed her eyes. “Fuck.” Tomas laughed. “That good?” She nodded solemnly. “I'm going to need a moment.” Dino leaned against the counter. “Take your time.” Mandi opened her eyes. Then looked between them. “Gentlemen.” “Yes?” Tomas asked. “If I die tonight, tell Dally I loved her.” Dino burst out laughing. Mandi continued. “And tell her she can have everything except the shoes.” Tomas shook his head. “Of course.” “And the chocolate.” Dino grinned. “What about the chocolate?” “Bury it with me.” Dalia heard the nickname from three meters away. Of course she did. She turned slowly. Regina was standing beside her. “Oh, dear,” Regina murmured. Dalia removed her menthol lollipop. “Mandi.” Mandi looked up. “DALLY!” Dalia smiled. It was not a reassuring smile. “Come here.” Mandi stared. “Why?” “Because I want to tell you something.” “Can you tell me from there?” “No.” Mandi narrowed her black-contact eyes. “Suspicious.” Regina began laughing. Dalia extended one hand. “Mandi.” The petite woman considered. Then marched over with all the confidence of someone who had never allowed a perfectly reasonable survival instinct to interfere with a good joke. “Yes?” Dalia bent slightly. Whispered something. Mandi went absolutely still. Her eyes widened. Then— “YOU WOULDN'T!” Dalia straightened. Smiled. And returned the lollipop to her mouth. Regina looked between them. “What did you say?” Mandi pointed at Dalia. “SHE'S EVIL!” Dalia nodded. “Apparently.” “What did she threaten?” Dino asked. Mandi looked horrified. “THE SHOES!” Tomas started laughing. Dalia turned toward him. “She's very attached to them.” Mandi gasped. “ATTACHED? THEY'RE MY CHILDREN!” Regina doubled over. Dalia regarded her small friend and lover with exaggerated sympathy. “Then perhaps you should stop giving me reasons to consider drastic measures.” Mandi folded her arms. A long silence followed. Then she looked up. “Dally?” Dalia closed her eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ.” --- A little farther along the buffet, Nadia had begun laughing so hard that Sera's hair was lifting in sympathy. Padre watched them with amused resignation. “I take it you know those two.” Sera nodded. “Very.” Nadia wiped her eyes. “Oh, they're wonderful.” “Exhausting,” Sera corrected affectionately. “Also wonderful.” “Unfortunately.” Padre smiled. “I believe I heard that particular word used rather frequently at the wedding.” Nadia laughed. “Sebastian, you heard a great many things at that wedding.” “Indeed.” “And you survived.” “By the grace of God.” Nadia grinned. “Or excellent whiskey.” Padre considered. “Both may have contributed.” Sera burst out laughing. Her silver-white hair rose another inch. Then Nadia grew thoughtful. “Sera.” “Yes?” “Do you think Wakako would enjoy an installation?” Sera looked at her. “For what?” Nadia glanced toward the windows. Wakako was speaking with Panam. Neither looked remotely aware of the conversation unfolding across the room. Nadia smiled. “For a hypothetical future gathering.” Padre closed his eyes. “Oh, heavens.” Sera studied Nadia. Then grinned. “Oh.” Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I know that look.” “What look?” “The one where you're about to suggest something complicated.” Nadia smiled. “Beautifully complicated.” Sera's eyes brightened. “Now I'm listening.” Padre sighed. “I should never have introduced you two to the subject of forgiveness.” Nadia laughed. “Don't worry, Padre. This is a completely different disaster.” Sera and Nadia moved toward a quieter corner of the room. They weren't designing anything yet. That, Nadia insisted, would be premature. They were merely considering possibilities. Sera regarded the room. “Rogue made the space impressive.” “Very.” “But the people made it memorable.” Nadia nodded. “Exactly.” “So whatever happens next…” “Should begin with the people.” Sera smiled. “Interesting.” Nadia glanced toward Wakako. “And I think she already understands that.” Sera followed her gaze. The older fixer was listening while Panam explained something with her customary animated directness. Then Wakako laughed. Sera smiled. “You know what I like?” “What?” “Owner makes her laugh.” Nadia's expression softened immediately. “Yes.” “She looks happy.” “Owner does.” “And Wakako?” Nadia considered. Then smiled. “Very.” Sera leaned against her. For a moment they watched the two women together. Then Nadia looked back. “An installation wouldn't have to dominate the evening.” “No.” “It could change as the guests move through it.” Sera's expression sharpened with interest. “Responsive.” “Yes.” “To movement?” “Perhaps.” “To proximity?” “Possibly.” Sera considered. “Without identifying anybody.” Nadia nodded immediately. “Absolutely. No recording, no tracking identities, no revealing anything about the people attending.” “Just the space reacting to their presence.” “Exactly.” Sera grinned. “Oh, that's lovely.” Nadia smiled. “And perhaps…” She stopped. Sera turned. “What?” Nadia looked toward the windows. Then toward the guests. Her expression became positively wicked. “Perhaps the room could occasionally surprise them.” Sera stared. Then slowly smiled. Her hair began to rise. “Nadia.” “Yes?” “You magnificent woman.” --- Rogue approached just in time to catch the expression on Sera's face. She stopped. Looked at the rising silver-white hair. Then at Nadia. “Oh, absolutely fucking not.” Both artists turned. Sera blinked. “Rogue!” “No.” Nadia laughed. “We haven't said anything.” “That's what worries me.” Sera looked offended. “Honestly!” Rogue pointed at her hair. “That.” Sera glanced upward. “What?” “Your hair.” “Oh.” “Every time it does that, something expensive happens.” Nadia burst out laughing. Sera put a hand over her mouth. Rogue folded her arms. “What are you plotting?” “Nothing,” Sera replied. Rogue stared. Nadia smiled innocently. “Just discussing art.” “That is not reassuring.” “Why?” “Because I know what your art can do.” Sera laughed. Rogue sighed. “Christ. First Wakako, now you two.” Nadia tilted her head. “Wakako?” Rogue narrowed her eyes. “Don't.” Sera's smile widened. “Oh?” “Don't even think about it.” Nadia looked at Sera. Sera looked at Nadia. Then both women turned back toward Rogue. And smiled. Rogue stared. “Oh, fuck me.” --- Panam had been watching from the windows. She saw Rogue's expression. Then Sera's hair. Then Nadia's smile. And immediately understood that something terrible was happening. She turned toward Wakako. “I need to go over there.” Wakako followed her gaze. “Oh?” “Those two.” “The artists?” “Yeah.” “They seem to be enjoying themselves.” “Exactly.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?” Panam looked at her. Then laughed. “You have no idea.” Wakako smiled. “I'm beginning to suspect that phrase is rather common among your friends.” “Very.” Panam shook her head. “When Sera's hair does that and Nadia's smiling like that, somebody's about to get creative.” Wakako regarded the artists with renewed interest. “And would that be undesirable?” Panam paused. Then looked at her. Slowly. “Oh, no.” Wakako smiled. “What?” “Don't you start.” “My dear?” “You're interested.” “Shouldn't I be?” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, this is going to be a fucking catastrophe.” Wakako's expression became positively serene. “A memorable one, I hope.” Rogue was still interrogating the artists when Panam arrived. “What's going on?” Sera turned. “Nothing!” Nadia nodded. “Absolutely nothing.” Panam looked at them. Then at Rogue. Then back. “Bullshit.” Rogue pointed triumphantly. “THANK YOU.” Sera sighed. “Owner's going to be impossible about this,” Nadia murmured. Panam raised an eyebrow. “What was that?” Nadia smiled. “Nothing, Owner.” Sera started laughing. Panam folded her arms. “All right. What are you designing?” “We aren't designing anything,” Sera protested. “Yet,” Nadia added. Rogue stared at her. Panam closed her eyes. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Nadia smiled sweetly. “It's only an idea.” “That is somehow worse,” Panam replied. Sera slipped an arm through Nadia's. “We thought a future gathering might benefit from something artistic.” Rogue shook her head. “No.” Panam looked at her. “Rogue.” “What?” “You can't forbid artists from thinking.” “I can damn well try.” Nadia laughed. Sera's hair rose another inch. Panam regarded the two of them. Then sighed. “Fine. One question.” Nadia smiled. “Yes, Owner?” “Is it safe?” Sera nodded. “Of course.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Define safe.” Nadia burst out laughing. Rogue pointed at Panam. “SEE?” Panam shook her head. “Jesus Christ.” --- Wakako joined them a moment later. The group quieted. Not because anybody was afraid of her. Because something about Wakako's arrival made the conversation suddenly feel considerably more interesting. She looked at Rogue. Then Panam. Then the two artists. “My dears.” Sera smiled. “Wakako.” Nadia nodded. “Good evening.” Wakako regarded the pair. “I understand you have an idea.” Rogue threw up her hands. “OF COURSE SHE KNOWS.” Panam burst out laughing. Sera glanced at Nadia. Nadia smiled. “Only a possibility.” Wakako inclined her head. “Those are often the most interesting kind.” Rogue stared. Then looked at Panam. “I'm going to need another fucking whiskey.” Panam laughed. Wakako turned toward Sera. “Would you care to tell me about it?” Sera considered. Then looked toward Rogue. Rogue narrowed her eyes. “Don't you dare.” Nadia smiled. “We were thinking about how art can transform a gathering without becoming the center of attention.” Wakako's expression changed. Subtly. But enough for Rogue to notice. “An interesting distinction,” Wakako said. Sera nodded. “The guests should remain the important part.” “Of course.” “The environment could respond to them.” “Without intruding?” Wakako asked. “Exactly,” Nadia replied. Wakako considered. Then smiled. “I would be interested in hearing more.” Rogue looked toward the ceiling. “Oh, God.” Panam was laughing. Sera's hair rose. Nadia beamed. And Wakako— Wakako looked perfectly composed. Which was, Rogue reflected, the most alarming development of all. They didn't begin planning a party. Not officially. Wakako was quite clear about that. No commitments. No dates. No venues. No guest lists. But she did spend several minutes discussing art with Sera and Nadia. Long enough to discover that both women understood the difference between spectacle and atmosphere. Long enough for Nadia to make an observation about how people behaved differently in spaces that invited curiosity rather than demanding attention. And long enough for Sera to describe an installation that could subtly transform a room as the evening progressed. Wakako listened. Then asked a question. “If the guests were wearing disguises, would the environment still respond to them in the same way?” Rogue stopped. Panam stopped laughing. Sera looked at Nadia. Nadia looked at Sera. For one remarkable moment, nobody spoke. Then Sera's eyes widened. “Oh.” Nadia's smile became positively radiant. “Oh, that is interesting.” Panam slowly turned toward Wakako. “Disguises?” Wakako looked innocent. “A hypothetical question.” Rogue stared. “Wakako.” “Yes, my dear?” “Why disguises?” “Why not?” Rogue opened her mouth. Then closed it. Sera was already thinking. Nadia was practically vibrating. Panam looked between them. Then began laughing. “Oh, FUCK.” --- Near the buffet, Mandi suddenly sneezed. Dino looked at her. “Bless you.” “Thank you.” Tomas smiled. “Something wrong?” Mandi considered. Then frowned. “I have the strangest feeling.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “What kind of feeling?” “That somewhere, somebody is thinking about fabulous shoes.” Tomas burst out laughing. Dino shook his head. Mandi looked around the room. Then spotted the group near the windows. Rogue. Wakako. Panam. Sera. Nadia. All standing together. All looking suspicious. Mandi narrowed her black-contact eyes. “Oh.” Dino followed her gaze. “What?” Mandi set down her plate. Tomas looked worried. “Mandi?” She slowly turned toward them. “Gentlemen.” Dino sighed. “Yes?” “Something important is happening.” “How do you know?” Mandi pointed dramatically. “LOOK.” Both men looked. Wakako was smiling. Sera's hair was floating. Nadia looked delighted. Panam was laughing. Rogue appeared to be reconsidering every decision she'd made that evening. Tomas nodded. “Interesting.” Dino grinned. “Very.” Mandi's expression became positively suspicious. Then she began walking. Dino looked at Tomas. Tomas looked at Dino. Both followed. Mandi reached the group. Stopped. Looked around. And planted her hands on her hips. “WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING?” Rogue closed her eyes. “Oh, Christ.” Panam burst out laughing. Sera looked delighted. Nadia covered her mouth. Wakako regarded the petite woman with extraordinary composure. “My dear Mandi.” “YES?” “We're discussing art.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Suspicious.” Wakako smiled. “Is it?” “VERY.” Rogue sighed. “Mandi, please.” Mandi turned. “ROGUE!” “What?” “WHY IS EVERYBODY BEING SECRETIVE?” “Because there isn't anything to tell.” Mandi regarded her. Then looked at Wakako. Then Sera. Then Nadia. Her eyes narrowed further. “Are there COSTUMES involved?” Rogue went still. Panam made a strangled noise. Nadia looked at Sera. Sera's hair rose another inch. Wakako simply smiled. Mandi gasped. “OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.” Rogue pointed at her. “Don't.” Mandi turned toward Dino. “DINO!” He laughed. “What?” “COSTUMES!” Tomas looked amused. “Mandi—” She spun toward him. “TOMAS!” “Yes?” “DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS?” He shook his head. “No.” “SHOES!” The room erupted in laughter. Mandi threw both arms into the air. “SO MANY FUCKING SHOES!” --- Dalia, hearing the commotion, turned from her conversation with Regina. She saw Mandi. Saw the group. Saw Sera's hair. And immediately understood that something terrible had happened. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Regina followed her gaze. “What?” Dalia sighed. “I think somebody just gave Mandi a new hobby.” Regina laughed. “Is that bad?” Dalia considered. Then looked toward the petite neon-orange whirlwind, who was now enthusiastically explaining the structural requirements of costume footwear to a visibly delighted Nadia. Dalia shook her head. “Darling.” “Yes?” “It's catastrophic.” Wakako watched Mandi's animated explanation with growing amusement. The petite woman seemed to have an extraordinary capacity for enthusiasm. And unlike many people who became excited about extravagant things, she was capable of explaining exactly why particular details mattered. Apparently the choice of shoes determined the entire costume. Wakako found that rather charming. Mandi eventually stopped to breathe. Then looked up. “Wakako.” “Yes, my dear?” “Are you having a costume party?” The group went silent. Rogue stared at Wakako. Panam grinned. Sera and Nadia exchanged a look. Dino and Tomas waited. Dalia, arriving with Regina, closed her eyes. Wakako considered the question. Then smiled. “Not presently.” Mandi blinked. “Not presently?” “No.” “But maybe?” “Perhaps.” Mandi stared. Then her grin widened. “Oh.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Mandi leaned closer. “Would you like to know something?” “Certainly.” “I know a lot about shoes.” Wakako smiled. “I had gathered.” “And costumes.” “Wonderful.” “And fashion.” “Clearly.” Mandi's expression became positively solemn. “If you ever have a costume party…” Wakako waited. “…I would be honored to help you select footwear.” Rogue made a strangled noise. Panam covered her face. Nadia burst out laughing. Sera's hair practically formed a halo. Wakako regarded Mandi. Then inclined her head. “My dear, that is a very generous offer.” Mandi beamed. “THANK YOU!” Wakako's smile became just a fraction more mischievous. “I shall remember it.” Rogue stared. “Wakako.” “Yes?” “Don't encourage her.” Wakako looked surprised. “Why ever not?” Rogue closed her eyes. “Jesus Christ.” Mandi clapped her hands. “I LOVE THIS WOMAN!” --- Later, when the laughter had finally subsided, Rogue found herself beside Suzy again. She looked exhausted. Not physically. Existentially. Suzy was still smiling. “Well.” Rogue sighed. “Don't.” “Darling.” “No.” “You did this.” Rogue looked at her. “I know.” “You challenged Wakako.” “Yes.” “You invited Sera and Nadia.” “Yes.” “And Mandi.” Rogue closed her eyes. “Oh, God.” Suzy laughed. “And now they're all talking about costumes.” Rogue shook her head. “I'm going to need a vacation.” “Where?” “Somewhere without people.” Suzy considered. Then smiled. “Good luck finding somewhere Mandi can't follow you.” Rogue stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “Happy?” Rogue looked across the room. Wakako was speaking quietly with Panam. Sera and Nadia were still discussing possibilities. Mandi had returned to Dino and Tomas and was apparently describing a pair of shoes so elaborate that both men were struggling to imagine them. Dalia stood with Regina, watching her friend with affectionate resignation. Rogue took a slow breath. Then smiled. “Yeah.” Suzy's expression softened. “Good.” Rogue looked at her. Then grinned. “Though I think I may have accidentally started a fucking arms race.” Suzy laughed. “An arms race?” “Between Night City's most dangerous social organizers.” Suzy considered. Then nodded. “Oh, darling.” “What?” “I think you're right.” --- At the windows, Wakako was preparing to return to the party's quieter conversations. Panam touched her hand. “One question.” Wakako smiled. “Another?” “Yes.” “Very well.” Panam leaned closer. “Was that deliberate?” Wakako tilted her head. “Was what deliberate?” “Disguises.” “My dear, I simply asked whether an artwork would respond to people wearing them.” Panam stared. Then laughed. “You sneaky old woman.” Wakako smiled. “Do you disapprove?” “Not even slightly.” “Good.” Panam shook her head. “Goddammit.” Wakako touched her cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Panam grinned. “Immensely.” “Then perhaps we shouldn't worry too much about tomorrow.” Panam considered. Then nodded. “Fair.” They shared a warm kiss. When they separated, Panam looked toward Mandi. The petite woman was standing on tiptoe, gesturing wildly while Dino and Tomas listened with expressions of delighted disbelief. Panam laughed. “You know she's already shopping in her head.” Wakako smiled. “Yes.” “Probably ordering shoes before she knows whether there's a party.” “Possibly.” Panam looked at her. Then narrowed her eyes. “Wakako.” “Yes?” “You're going to invite her, aren't you?” Wakako regarded Mandi for a moment. Then smiled. “My dear Panam.” “What?” “If I were to host a masquerade…” Panam waited. Wakako's smile widened. “…how could I possibly omit such an enthusiastic guest?” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “OH, ROGUE IS SO FUCKING DOOMED!” Wakako laughed with her. --- And across the room, Rogue Amendiares sneezed. Suzy turned. “Bless you.” Rogue frowned. “Thank you.” “Something wrong?” Rogue looked toward Wakako. Then Mandi. Then the two artists. And sighed. “I think I'm being discussed.” Suzy laughed. “Darling, you're being outplanned.” Rogue shook her head. Then grinned. “Good.” Suzy blinked. “Good?” Rogue raised her whiskey. “Let the bastards try.” And on the far side of the room, Wakako Okada raised her teacup in answer. No announcement. No promise. Only a small, exquisite smile. Which, by now, Rogue had learned to regard as a declaration of hostilities. --- ## Chapter 28 — The People Who Stayed Rogue Amendiares had discovered that there was a particular kind of pleasure in hosting a successful party. Not the satisfaction of seeing expensive arrangements executed correctly. She could purchase that. Not the pleasure of impressing powerful people. She'd been doing that for decades, usually without wanting to. No. The real pleasure came later. When the formalities had dissolved, the music had softened, and the people who remained were staying because they genuinely wanted to. Suzy stood beside her, examining the room. “You're smiling.” Rogue looked at her. “Am I?” “Dangerously.” “That's my usual expression.” “Not this one.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. Suzy smiled. “This one's different.” “Enlighten me.” “You look pleased with yourself.” Rogue laughed. “Shouldn't I?” “Absolutely.” “Then what's the problem?” “Nothing.” Rogue studied her. Then grinned. “You're about to say something.” Suzy leaned closer. “Only that I haven't seen you enjoy being around this many people in a very long time.” Rogue looked across the reception area. Regina was laughing with Adrian and Dalia. Muamar was describing something to Rafael with such enthusiasm that both Nova and Vega appeared to be preparing objections. Wakako was sitting comfortably beside Panam. And Mandi— Rogue sighed. Mandi was explaining footwear to Padre. With gestures. Padre appeared to be listening with extraordinary patience. Rogue shook her head. “Christ.” Suzy followed her gaze. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, poor Sebastian.” “He's survived worse.” “Has he?” “He officiated those weddings.” Suzy considered. “Fair.” Rogue smiled. Then she looked at Suzy. “You know something?” “What?” “I think you're right.” Suzy's expression softened. “About?” “This.” Rogue gestured toward the room. “I like having them here.” Suzy slipped her hand into Rogue's. “I know, darling.” --- Padre Sebastian Ibarra had negotiated with criminals, counseled the desperate, and mediated disputes in which everyone present possessed both a weapon and a deeply inadequate understanding of consequences. None of these experiences had prepared him for Mandi's theory of high heels. “Padre.” “Yes, my child?” “Have you ever considered the philosophical significance of shoes?” Padre considered. “Not in those exact terms.” Mandi nodded gravely. “Then tonight, your education begins.” Dino covered his mouth. Tomas looked away. Sera had stopped beside Nadia to watch the developing disaster. Padre folded his hands. “I am listening.” Mandi pointed toward her feet. “A shoe is not simply something you wear.” “No?” “It is a statement.” “A statement.” “YES.” Padre nodded. “Go on.” Mandi brightened. “It tells the world who you are.” “An interesting proposition.” “And sometimes—” She leaned closer. “—who you intend to become.” Sera smiled. Nadia tilted her head. Padre considered the petite woman before him. Then, to everyone's surprise, he nodded thoughtfully. “There may be something in that.” Mandi stopped. Blinking. “Really?” “Yes.” The sudden seriousness in his expression caught her attention. “Clothing can be a form of identity,” Padre continued. “A way of expressing something that might otherwise remain unseen.” Sera nodded. “Exactly.” Nadia smiled. “And sometimes it allows someone to explore a possibility before they're ready to make it permanent.” Padre inclined his head. “Quite.” Mandi looked between them. Her mouth fell open. Then she turned toward Dino. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?” Dino laughed. “I did.” “PADRE UNDERSTANDS ME!” Tomas lost the battle and burst out laughing. Padre smiled. “I believe I understand the principle.” Mandi regarded him with enormous affection. Then leaned up and kissed his cheek. “YOU'RE WONDERFUL!” Padre laughed. “Thank you, Mandi.” She stepped back. Then considered him. “Do you own any spectacular shoes?” He closed his eyes. Sera began laughing. Nadia covered her mouth. Padre sighed. “Merciful heavens.” --- By the windows, Anna had been watching the exchange. She was laughing quietly when Wade joined her with fresh water. “Something amusing?” She nodded toward Mandi. “That woman is extraordinary.” Wade followed her gaze. Mandi was now apparently making Padre inspect the construction of one particularly elaborate heel. “Yes,” he said. “She certainly is.” Anna accepted the water. “Thank you.” “My pleasure.” They stood together for a moment. Then Wade glanced toward Evelyn. His cousin was speaking with Gabriel and Bea. She looked very happy. Anna noticed his expression. “Something on your mind?” Wade smiled. “Evelyn.” “She's lovely.” “She is.” “Are you worried about her?” “Not tonight.” Anna looked at him. Wade continued. “She knows I can be difficult.” Anna raised an eyebrow. “Can you?” “Apparently.” “I hadn't noticed.” He laughed. “An impressive lie.” “Thank you.” Wade looked toward his cousin again. “She worries that I spend too much time alone.” Anna nodded. “Does she?” “Rather frequently.” “And is she right?” He considered. “Sometimes.” Anna smiled. “An unusually candid admission.” “I've had an unusually pleasant evening.” She touched his hand. “I'm glad.” He turned toward her. “Anna.” “Yes?” “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” She regarded him. Not surprised by the interest. But touched by the simplicity of the question. “I would.” His smile came immediately. “Good.” “Though I have a condition.” He laughed. “Of course.” “No intermediaries.” Wade raised an eyebrow. “None?” “If you want to ask me to dinner, you ask me yourself.” He considered. Then nodded. “Entirely reasonable.” “And no mysterious instructions delivered by somebody who refuses to give me your name.” He smiled. “Agreed.” Anna stepped closer. “Then yes, Wade. I'd very much like to have dinner with you.” He kissed her hand. She laughed softly. “Oh, you are charming.” “Occasionally.” Anna leaned closer. “Would you like another kiss?” He smiled. “Very much.” She obliged. --- A little farther along the windows, Dakota was staring at a napkin. Deja stared at Dakota. Saskia stared at both of them. Then Saskia sighed. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Dakota looked up. “What?” “You promised.” Dakota blinked. “Promised what?” “No more engineering.” Deja immediately looked offended. “We aren't doing engineering.” Saskia pointed at the napkin. “What is that?” Deja looked down. “A diagram.” “OF WHAT?” Dakota considered. “A possible solution to a routing problem.” Saskia stared. Then slowly covered her face. “Oh, God.” Deja began laughing. Dakota smiled. “We weren't going to build anything.” “That's supposed to reassure me?” “It's merely theoretical.” Saskia looked at Deja. “You're encouraging her.” Deja smiled innocently. “Am I?” “Yes.” Dakota leaned back. “Perhaps we should discuss something else.” “YES.” Deja considered. “Shoes?” Saskia stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, you absolute bitch!” Dakota laughed. Deja looked delighted. “Too soon?” “Entirely.” Saskia took the napkin. Folded it. And placed it inside Dakota's jacket pocket. “There.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Confiscated?” “Temporarily.” Deja smiled. “Cruel.” Saskia leaned closer. “Would either of you care to dance?” Dakota considered. “Will I be allowed to discuss—” “NO.” Deja burst out laughing. Dakota stood, smiling. “Very well.” Saskia took both their hands. “Wonderful.” And the three returned to the dance floor, leaving behind precisely zero completed engineering projects. Which Saskia considered a personal victory. --- Regina had been enjoying the sight of Adrian attempting to persuade Dalia that his childhood stories were historically accurate. Dalia remained unconvinced. “Darling, that's the third version.” Adrian looked offended. “I've only told it once.” “You've changed three details while telling it.” Regina laughed. “He does that.” “Traitor,” Adrian replied. Dalia smiled around her menthol lollipop. “Apparently it's a family tradition.” Regina nodded. “Unfortunately.” Adrian spread his hands. “I am being persecuted.” “Professionally,” Dalia replied. They laughed. Then Adrian looked toward the bar. “I think I'll get another drink.” Regina smiled. “Water.” He raised an eyebrow. “Giving me orders?” “Family tradition.” Dalia laughed. Adrian bowed theatrically. “Yes, ma'am.” He wandered away. For a moment, Regina and Dalia watched him go. Then Regina turned. “You know, I owe you an apology.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “For that business earlier.” “The cousin?” Regina nodded. Dalia stared. Then began laughing. “Oh, sweetheart.” “It was rather unfair.” “Unfair?” “Yes.” “Regina, I propositioned your cousin because I didn't know he was your cousin. You corrected me. We laughed. Nobody died.” Regina smiled. “Still.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “Darling, if that's the worst social disaster I have tonight, I'll consider myself spectacularly fortunate.” Regina burst out laughing. “Really?” “Oh, absolutely.” Dalia leaned closer. “Besides, Adrian's a lovely man.” “He is.” “And he clearly adores you.” Regina's expression softened. “Yes.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” Then she tilted her head. “Now, since we're discussing apologies…” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I may need one myself.” “For?” “I'm about to steal another kiss.” Regina smiled. “Terrible offense.” “Unforgivable.” “Perhaps I could be persuaded to overlook it.” Dalia leaned closer. “Excellent.” Regina kissed her before she could say another word. When they separated, Dalia laughed softly. “Oh, now that's just unfair.” Regina grinned. “Professional habit.” --- Dino had been watching Mandi's increasingly animated conversation with Padre when Tomas nudged his arm. “What?” Tomas nodded toward the petite woman. “You know, there's something extraordinary about her.” Dino laughed. “Only something?” Tomas smiled. “She can make almost anybody laugh.” “True.” “But look.” Dino followed his gaze. Mandi had stopped joking. Padre was speaking. Sera and Nadia were listening. And Mandi, for all her usual restless energy, was listening too. Attentively. Without interruption. Dino regarded the group. Then nodded. “Yeah.” Tomas smiled. “She's not just loud.” “No.” “She's interested in people.” Dino considered. Then smiled. “I noticed.” Mandi looked over. Spotted them. And waved both arms. “GENTLEMEN!” Dino laughed. “Here we go.” “COME HERE!” Tomas shook his head. “Should we?” Dino grinned. “Apparently we've been summoned.” They approached. Mandi looked positively delighted. “Padre understands fashion!” Dino raised an eyebrow. “Does he?” “YES!” Padre looked mildly alarmed. “I believe that's an exaggeration.” Mandi turned toward him. “PADRE!” He sighed. “An understandable exaggeration.” Sera burst out laughing. Nadia grinned. Mandi nodded with enormous satisfaction. “THANK YOU.” Dino leaned toward Tomas. “Best party ever.” Tomas smiled. “Without question.” --- It was Muamar who finally raised the subject everyone had been carefully avoiding. Not Halloween. Not costumes. The challenge. He approached Rogue with Rafael beside him. Nova and Vega followed at a more leisurely pace, apparently having spent several minutes criticizing a proposed party concept that involved an entirely unreasonable number of moving vehicles. “Rogue.” She turned. “Muamar.” “I have a question.” Suzy groaned. “Oh, God.” Muamar looked offended. “It's a perfectly reasonable question.” Rafael smiled. “That's what worries everyone.” Rogue grinned. “Go on.” Muamar folded his arms. “Does the challenge have an expiration date?” Rogue considered. “No.” “Excellent.” “Why?” “Because I need time.” Vega burst out laughing. “Oh, Captain.” “What?” “PLEASE tell me you're not still thinking about the vehicles.” Muamar looked defensive. “I have access to transportation.” Nova smiled. “Access isn't the issue.” “Then what is?” “Your proposed guest experience involves standing on moving platforms.” “Slow-moving platforms.” Rafael shook his head. “You haven't established that they're safe.” Muamar looked at him. “Traitor.” “Alive traitor.” Vega pointed. “SEE? He understands.” Rogue looked between them. Then laughed. “Oh, this is magnificent.” Muamar sighed. “I haven't even finished explaining the idea.” Nova regarded him. “That's precisely why we're concerned.” Suzy leaned against Rogue, laughing. Muamar shook his head. “You people have no imagination.” Vega stared. Then turned toward Nova. “Did he just accuse us of lacking imagination?” Nova considered. “I believe he did.” Vega looked back at Muamar. “Captain, darling.” “Yes?” “If your party requires guests to sign a waiver before entering the dance floor, we're going to have a problem.” Rafael burst out laughing. Rogue nearly spilled her whiskey. Muamar stared. Then began laughing himself. “All right. Fine. No moving platforms.” Vega smiled. “Progress.” Rogue let the laughter settle. Then looked at Muamar. “Listen.” He turned. “What?” “Don't try to beat me by making something bigger.” He considered. Rogue continued. “Make something that's yours.” A pause followed. Muamar studied her. Then smiled. “That's good advice.” “Don't get used to it.” Rafael laughed. Nova nodded. “It is, actually.” Vega looked thoughtful. “Something that's his…” She glanced at Muamar. Then at Rafael. A grin spread across her face. “Oh.” Muamar narrowed his eyes. “What?” “I've just had an idea.” Rafael groaned. “Oh, no.” Nova closed her eyes. “Vega.” “What?” “That expression.” Vega grinned. “You love my ideas.” “Some of them.” “Enough of them.” Rogue looked at Suzy. Suzy smiled. “Oh, darling.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “What?” “You've done it again.” “Done what?” “Encouraged the dangerous people.” Rogue laughed. “It's a gift.” Eventually the room began to acquire the peculiar warmth of an evening approaching its natural conclusion. Not everyone was preparing to leave. Some were still dancing. Others had gathered near the buffet for another round of food. But the music was softer, and the conversations had shifted away from introductions and discoveries toward something more familiar. People were exchanging ways to contact one another. Not contracts. Not favors. Invitations to dinner. Promises to continue unfinished conversations. Occasional suggestions that someone really ought to visit someone else's favorite restaurant. Rogue noticed. It was exactly what Padre had meant. The party wasn't simply ending. It was creating reasons for people to meet again. And then she saw something that made her stop. Wakako had approached Mr. Hands. Anna stood beside him. The three were talking quietly. Rogue couldn't hear a word. But Anna laughed at something Wakako said. Then Wade smiled. Not politely. Genuinely. Wakako nodded. And something passed between the two fixers that Rogue recognized instantly. Professional respect. Not a bargain. Not an arrangement. Simply two people acknowledging one another without needing anything. Rogue smiled. “Would you look at that.” Suzy followed her gaze. “What?” “Nothing.” Suzy turned. “Rogue.” She laughed. “I mean it.” Then she watched Wade say something that caused Wakako to laugh. “Although I think Sebastian may have been right.” Suzy's expression softened. “About?” “This becoming something bigger.” Suzy looked around. Then smiled. “Of course he was.” --- Padre had been preparing to leave when Rogue found him. Gabriel was speaking with Bea near the entrance. Padre stood alone for a moment, looking out over the city. Rogue approached. “Sebastian.” He turned. “Rogue.” “Going?” “Soon.” She nodded. A pause followed. Then she said, “Thank you.” Padre regarded her. “For?” “Coming.” He smiled. “My pleasure.” “And bringing Gabriel.” “Ah.” Rogue laughed. Padre's smile widened. “I gather he enjoyed himself.” “Very much.” “Good.” Rogue looked at him. Then smiled. “You're not going to ask?” “About what?” She raised an eyebrow. He laughed softly. “Rogue, I have spent many years learning when a question is unnecessary.” She shook her head. “Wise man.” “Occasionally.” Then Padre's expression grew thoughtful. “May I tell you something?” “Of course.” “I think you've given some very lonely people a reminder that they don't have to remain lonely.” Rogue went still. The remark landed more deeply than she expected. She looked across the room. At Wade. At Wakako. At Regina. At the others. People who could summon wealth, influence, or violence with a call. People who were accustomed to being needed. Not necessarily wanted. Rogue looked back at Padre. “Yeah.” He smiled. “It's a good thing you've done.” For a moment she had no answer. Then she grinned. “Christ, Sebastian. You're going to ruin my reputation.” He laughed. “I doubt it.” She shook her head. “Get out of here.” He smiled. “Good night, Rogue.” “Good night, Padre.” He started toward Gabriel. Then Rogue called after him. “Sebastian.” He turned. “Yes?” “About your next whiskey.” He raised an eyebrow. She smiled. “It's on me.” Padre's laughter followed him toward the entrance. Suzy found Rogue standing alone beside the windows. For once, she didn't immediately tease her. She simply approached. Slipped an arm around her waist. And stood beside her. Rogue looked down. “Hello.” “Hello, darling.” A pause. Then Suzy asked, “What did Sebastian say?” Rogue considered. “Something annoying.” “Oh?” “About people.” Suzy waited. Rogue sighed. “He thinks I did something good.” Suzy's expression softened. “Well.” Rogue looked at her. “Don't.” Suzy smiled. “Darling.” “I mean it.” “You did.” Rogue stared at her. Suzy continued gently. “You invited people to enjoy an evening without asking them for anything. You gave them somewhere safe, comfortable, and beautiful. And then you let them find their own reasons to stay.” Rogue looked away. Suzy touched her cheek. “That's worth being proud of.” For a moment Rogue said nothing. Then she laughed softly. “Fuck.” Suzy smiled. “An eloquent response.” “Learned from Panam.” “Clearly.” Rogue drew her closer. Suzy rested against her. They watched the lights of Night City together. Then Rogue kissed her. Not for an audience. Not because someone was watching. Simply because she wanted to. When they separated, Suzy smiled. “There she is.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Who?” “The woman I came here with.” Rogue laughed. “She's been here all night.” “I know.” Suzy kissed her again. The first departure was almost comically difficult. Mandi had discovered that Padre was leaving. She hurried across the room. “PADRE!” Padre turned. “Oh, dear.” Mandi arrived in front of him. “THANK YOU!” He blinked. “For what?” “Understanding shoes.” Gabriel burst out laughing. Bea smiled. Padre regarded Mandi with extraordinary solemnity. “My child.” “Yes?” “May your footwear always carry you somewhere worthwhile.” Mandi went completely still. Then her expression softened. “Oh.” Padre smiled. She threw her arms around him. He laughed and returned the embrace. When she stepped back, she looked positively emotional. Then she turned toward Dalia. “DALLY!” Dalia closed her eyes. “Oh, Jesus.” Mandi pointed at Padre. “HE BLESSED MY SHOES!” The entire nearby group erupted in laughter. Padre shook his head. “That isn't quite what I—” “TOO LATE!” Sera's hair rose. Nadia doubled over. Gabriel was laughing helplessly. And Rogue, watching from the windows, buried her face against Suzy's shoulder. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Suzy could barely breathe. “Darling…” “What?” “I think we've found your next party's theme.” Rogue lifted her head. Slowly. Suspiciously. “What?” Suzy smiled. “The Blessing of the Shoes.” Rogue stared. Then burst out laughing so hard that Wakako turned to see what had happened. Wakako watched Rogue laugh. Then looked at Panam. “Something amusing?” Panam followed her gaze. “Oh, probably Mandi.” Wakako smiled. “An extraordinary young woman.” “That's one word for her.” “Do you like her?” Panam laughed. “Very.” “She seems to inspire a great deal of affection.” “She does.” Wakako considered. Then looked toward the entrance. Mandi was still enthusiastically speaking with Padre. Her neon-orange hair bounced as she gestured. The priest listened. Then laughed. Wakako smiled. “Perhaps that is her particular gift.” Panam turned. “What?” “Reminding people that delight needn't be complicated.” Panam regarded Mandi. Then smiled. “Yeah.” Wakako touched her hand. Panam turned back. For a moment they looked at one another. Then Panam grinned. “Still thinking?” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Always.” “About your hypothetical party?” “Among other things.” Panam laughed. “Goddammit.” Wakako smiled. “My dear?” “Yes?” “Would you have dinner with me sometime?” Panam stopped. Just for a moment. Then her expression warmed. “Yeah.” Wakako smiled. “I'd enjoy that.” “Me too.” Panam leaned closer. “And for the record, I promise not to interrogate you about the party.” Wakako's smile widened. “How very generous.” “For at least the first ten minutes.” Wakako burst out laughing. “Oh, Panam.” “What?” “I think ten minutes may be a record.” Panam grinned. “Don't push your luck.” --- Near the entrance, Rogue watched Padre finally escape Mandi's enthusiastic gratitude. Gabriel and Bea accompanied him. The three paused to say goodbye. There were hugs. Warm wishes. And, from Mandi, one final declaration that Padre had become the official spiritual authority on excellent footwear. Padre accepted this with the exhausted dignity of a man who knew resistance was futile. Then they departed. Rogue smiled. One departure. Twenty-four people remained. And she was beginning to understand that the evening wouldn't end with one grand announcement. It would end slowly. In conversations that ran longer than expected. In embraces. In promises to meet again. In laughter that followed people all the way to the elevators. She looked toward Suzy. Suzy looked back. “Happy?” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Very.” Suzy nodded. “Good.” Rogue glanced toward Wakako and Panam. Then toward Mandi, who had somehow acquired another dessert. And finally toward the room full of people she'd brought together. “Though I've got one problem.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Rogue grinned. “How the fuck am I supposed to top this?” Suzy considered. Then smiled. “Darling.” “What?” “Perhaps you don't have to.” Rogue stared. Suzy leaned closer. “Perhaps next time you can just enjoy being invited.” For a moment Rogue said nothing. Then she looked toward Wakako. The older fixer caught her eye. And smiled. That small, extraordinarily knowing smile. Rogue shook her head. Then laughed. “Oh, fuck.” Suzy kissed her cheek. “Exactly.” And the night continued, with no one quite ready to say goodbye. --- Hihihihi… nyt on edellisen luvun tapahtumat ja tarvittavat Drive-referenssit tarkistettu. ❤️ Rogue saa pitää onnistuneet juhlansa, Wakako saa pitää salaisuutensa, eikä kukaan lähde hissiin vain siksi, että sattui seisomaan väärän ihmisen vieressä. 😈 Ja nyt olisi ehkä aika näyttää, että Wakakon kiinnostus Stablea kohtaan ulottuu huomattavasti syvemmälle kuin Mandin kenkäkokoelmaan. --- ## Chapter 29 — The Woman Who Remembered Everyone Suzy Q had been running Lizzie's long enough to recognize when someone wanted to discuss business. The approach was usually predictable. An introduction. A compliment about the establishment. A discreet inquiry about availability. Eventually, money. Wakako Okada did none of those things. She simply approached while Suzy was standing near the windows, enjoying a rare moment without somebody requiring her immediate attention. “Miss Q.” Suzy turned. “Wakako.” “May I join you?” “Of course.” Wakako stepped beside her. For a moment they watched the city. Then Wakako said, “You have a remarkable group of women.” Suzy smiled. “I think so.” “I imagine you're accustomed to hearing that.” “Frequently.” “Yet you don't sound especially impressed by the compliment.” Suzy laughed. “Oh, I'm delighted whenever somebody appreciates them. But I've discovered that people often mean something rather different when they tell me how remarkable my girls are.” Wakako turned toward her. “Indeed?” “Usually they mean they're beautiful.” “An obvious observation.” “Exactly.” Suzy took a small sip of water. “Beauty is easy to notice. It's everything else that tends to get overlooked.” Wakako regarded her thoughtfully. “Then I believe we're in agreement.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Very much.” She nodded toward the dance floor. Mandi was demonstrating something to Tomas while Dino watched with the expression of a man who had long since surrendered to the inevitable. Dalia stood nearby with Regina, her neonpink dreadlocks cascading over one shoulder. Deja was laughing with Saskia and Dakota. Wakako watched them. “The orange-haired woman,” she said, “has a rather extraordinary ability to command attention.” Suzy laughed. “Mandi.” “Yes.” “She's certainly memorable.” “But she also listens.” Suzy turned toward her. Wakako continued. “I watched her with Sebastian. She began by making him laugh. Then he said something that genuinely interested her, and she gave him her complete attention.” Suzy's expression softened. “Yes.” “That's rather different from simply enjoying an audience.” “Very different.” Wakako smiled. “And Dalia seems to know exactly when to intervene and when to let her friend run wild.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Sometimes there's no stopping Mandi.” “I had gathered.” “Dalia has been trying for ages.” “Without success?” “Spectacularly.” Wakako chuckled. Then her expression became thoughtful. “The woman in ivory interests me as well.” “Deja?” “Yes.” Suzy followed her gaze. Deja had just made a remark that caused Dakota to stop mid-sentence. Then Dakota laughed. Saskia shook her head, smiling. “She has a gentle appearance,” Wakako observed. “Very.” “But I suspect that mouth could strip the paint from a vehicle.” Suzy laughed so suddenly she nearly spilled her water. “Oh, Wakako!” “Am I wrong?” “Not even slightly.” Wakako smiled. “Delightful.” Suzy was beginning to understand why Rogue respected this woman. Wakako didn't ask about identities. She didn't pry into arrangements. She simply observed the people in front of her and drew conclusions from what they chose to show. That took discipline. Particularly among Night City's fixers, who were accustomed to treating every unfamiliar person as a potential source of useful information. “You've spent quite a lot of time watching them,” Suzy remarked. Wakako nodded. “I have.” “Why?” “Because Rogue invited me to meet extraordinary people.” “Ah.” “And I dislike failing to appreciate a gift.” Suzy looked at her. Then smiled. “That's a lovely way of putting it.” Wakako inclined her head. “Thank you.” A pause followed. Then Suzy laughed softly. “May I ask you something?” “Certainly.” “Are you considering inviting them somewhere?” Wakako's expression was perfectly composed. But her eyes brightened. “Would that be inappropriate?” “Not at all.” “Good.” Suzy considered her. “Although I should mention something.” “Please.” “They decide for themselves.” Wakako turned toward her. Suzy continued. “I'm happy to pass along an invitation. But I don't assign them to private social engagements, and Rogue's invitation tonight doesn't mean they're automatically available for anybody else's.” Wakako listened without interrupting. Then she nodded. “Of course.” Suzy smiled. “I thought you'd understand.” “My dear, I would find it rather insulting to invite someone whose presence had been secured by obligation rather than genuine interest.” Suzy regarded her for a moment. Then her smile widened. “Oh, I do like you.” Wakako laughed. “The feeling is mutual.” “Something else,” Suzy added. “Yes?” “Not all of them share the same relationships with one another.” “I noticed.” “Some are lovers. Some are friends. Some work together. Some are all three, depending on the people involved.” Wakako smiled. “Human relationships rarely fit neatly into categories.” “No.” “And fortunately, I have no desire to reorganize them.” Suzy laughed. “Excellent.” Wakako looked across the room again. “Then perhaps, should the occasion arise, I might ask you to pass along a few invitations.” Suzy regarded her. “A few?” “Or several.” “Several?” Wakako took a measured sip of tea. “Possibly eleven.” Suzy stopped. Then slowly turned. “Wakako.” “Yes, my dear?” “Have you just invited entire Stable to a party you haven't admitted you're planning?” Wakako considered. “No.” Suzy stared. “I haven't issued a single invitation.” A beat passed. Then Suzy began laughing. “Oh, you magnificent woman.” Wakako smiled. “I did say should the occasion arise.” “Of course you did.” “And I would naturally want each woman to decide for herself.” Suzy shook her head. “Rogue is going to lose her fucking mind.” Wakako's smile became almost imperceptibly mischievous. “Then perhaps we needn't trouble her with a hypothetical discussion.” Suzy laughed harder. “Oh, I am absolutely not promising that.” “Very sensible.” “WHAT'S SO FUNNY?” The voice came from behind them. Both women turned. Mandi stood several paces away. Her screaming neon-orange hair was impossible to miss, and the black contacts made her expression of intense suspicion even more theatrical. Dino and Tomas had apparently decided to remain at the bar rather than follow her into what looked suspiciously like another interrogation. Suzy smiled. “Mandi.” “SUZY!” Wakako inclined her head. “My dear.” Mandi looked between them. Then planted her hands on her hips. “You're plotting.” Suzy laughed. “Are we?” “YES.” Wakako regarded her calmly. “Whatever gives you that impression?” Mandi pointed at Suzy. “She's smiling.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “I do that quite often.” “Not like THAT.” Then Mandi pointed at Wakako. “And YOU.” Wakako smiled. “Yes?” “You're smiling even worse.” Suzy covered her mouth. Mandi narrowed her eyes. “There's a secret.” Wakako considered. “Perhaps we're simply enjoying one another's company.” Mandi stared. Then nodded slowly. “Suspiciously reasonable.” Suzy burst out laughing. Wakako looked at Mandi's shoes. Not merely glanced. She actually examined them. Mandi noticed immediately. Her entire expression changed. “Oh!” Wakako smiled. “Beautiful workmanship.” Mandi blinked. Then looked down. Then back up. “YOU THINK SO?” “Certainly.” Wakako indicated the heel. “A rather daring construction. Yet you seem remarkably comfortable moving in them.” Mandi beamed. “THANK YOU!” Suzy was smiling now. She knew exactly what was about to happen. “These,” Mandi announced, “are an absolute nightmare to find in the correct fit.” “I imagine so.” “And most people don't understand why that matters.” “Then I hope you'll explain.” Mandi went still. Completely still. Suzy stared. Wakako waited patiently. Finally Mandi whispered, “You actually want to know?” Wakako smiled. “Yes.” Mandi looked toward the bar. “DINO!” He turned. “What?” “SHE GETS IT!” Tomas began laughing. Dino lifted his glass. “Congratulations!” Mandi turned back toward Wakako, absolutely radiant. “Right. The problem is that most designers assume a petite woman has feet that ought to be dressed like a fucking schoolteacher's.” Suzy nearly choked. Wakako laughed. Mandi continued. “Which is ridiculous. I want something elegant, vicious, beautifully balanced, and capable of surviving an entire evening without making me reconsider every decision I've ever made.” “A perfectly reasonable requirement,” Wakako observed. “EXACTLY!” “And the pair you're wearing?” “Custom.” “I thought so.” Mandi's expression softened into genuine pleasure. “You have a good eye.” “Thank you.” “Most people just notice the price.” Wakako smiled. “The price tells me very little about whether something was made well.” Mandi stared at her. Then turned toward Suzy. “I'M KEEPING HER.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Are you?” “YES.” Wakako looked amused. “My dear Mandi, I believe I already have a home.” “VISITING RIGHTS, THEN.” --- By the time Dalia arrived, Mandi was demonstrating the engineering compromises involved in designing a spectacularly impractical-looking shoe that was, in fact, perfectly practical for its intended wearer. Wakako was listening. Seriously listening. Suzy had given up trying not to laugh. Dalia stopped beside them. Looked at Mandi. Then at Wakako. Then at the shoes. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” Mandi spun around. “DALLY!” Dalia closed her eyes. “No.” “WAKAKO UNDERSTANDS SHOES!” Dalia opened one eye. Looked at Wakako. “Does she?” Wakako smiled. “I'm learning a great deal.” Dalia regarded her. Then slowly grinned. “Oh, you poor woman.” Mandi gasped. “DALLY!” “She'll be showing you catalogues until sunrise.” “THAT'S A BRILLIANT IDEA!” Dalia stared. Then looked at Suzy. “Look what you've done.” Suzy was laughing too hard to answer. Wakako regarded Dalia with amused interest. “You two are very fond of one another.” Dalia looked down at Mandi. Who was now looking extraordinarily pleased with herself. Dalia sighed. “Unfortunately.” Mandi grinned. “LOVE YOU TOO!” Then, with no warning at all, she stepped closer and kissed Dalia. Dalia answered affectionately, resting a hand against Mandi's cheek. When they separated, Mandi beamed. “There.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “There what?” “Now you can't threaten my shoes.” Dalia considered. Then smiled. “Oh, sweetheart.” Mandi's grin faded. “What?” “You've dramatically underestimated my capacity for revenge.” Wakako laughed. And Suzy realized, with enormous amusement, that the older fixer had just watched the pair's familiar affection without finding anything unusual about it. Not an interrogation. Not a puzzle to solve. Simply two women who clearly cared for one another. Precisely as it should be. Panam arrived a few minutes later. She found Wakako and Mandi discussing heel construction. Actually discussing it. With considerable enthusiasm. Panam stopped. Looked at Suzy. Then Dalia. Then Wakako. “What the fuck?” Mandi turned. “PANAM!” “Hey, Mandi.” “WAKAKO IS A GENIUS!” Panam stared. Wakako raised an eyebrow. “An exaggeration, surely.” “NO!” Dalia gave Panam a look of profound resignation. Panam started laughing. “Oh, this is unbelievable.” Mandi pointed at her shoes. “We were discussing structural balance!” Panam looked at Wakako. “You?” “Yes.” “And Mandi?” “A very knowledgeable woman.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Of course she is.” Mandi folded her arms. “WHY IS EVERYBODY SO SURPRISED?” Dalia patted her shoulder. “Because, sweetheart, you've found somebody who can actually keep up with you.” Mandi beamed. “EXACTLY!” Wakako smiled. “My dear Mandi, I have enjoyed our conversation enormously.” Mandi went quiet. For a second, the absence of shouting was almost alarming. Then she smiled. A genuine, affectionate smile. “Me too.” She looked at Wakako. “If you ever want to talk shoes again…” “I shall remember.” “Promise?” Wakako considered. Then inclined her head. “I would be delighted.” Mandi looked positively radiant. Then she leaned close and whispered something. Wakako listened. Her eyebrows rose. And suddenly she began laughing. Suzy stared. Panam narrowed her eyes. Dalia looked suspicious. “What did you tell her?” Mandi turned. “NOTHING!” Dalia sighed. “Oh, fuck.” Wakako was still laughing. --- When Mandi finally wandered back toward Dino and Tomas, Panam joined Wakako near the windows. For a moment she simply regarded her. Wakako looked amused. “What?” “You're full of surprises.” “Am I?” “Yeah.” “Is that a complaint?” “Hell, no.” Panam leaned against the window frame. “I think I just watched you make Mandi's entire fucking week.” Wakako's expression warmed. “She knows what she loves.” “She sure as hell does.” “And she's willing to share that enthusiasm.” Panam nodded. “Usually at maximum volume.” Wakako laughed. “Yes. I noticed.” They watched Mandi approach her companions. Dino welcomed her with an exaggerated bow. Tomas said something that made her throw back her head and laugh. Panam shook her head. “That woman.” Wakako smiled. “She's rather wonderful.” “Yeah.” A pause followed. Then Wakako touched Panam's hand. “Are you tired?” Panam considered. “A little.” “Would you like to go?” Panam turned. “Are you?” “Not particularly.” “Good.” Wakako smiled. “Then perhaps we might stay a little longer.” Panam studied her. “You know something?” “Yes?” “I like that you don't make everything complicated.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “My dear, I'm a fixer. I make many things extraordinarily complicated.” Panam laughed. “Not this.” Wakako's expression softened. “No.” She took Panam's hand. “Not this.” It was Regina who first made a genuine attempt to say goodbye. Adrian had collected his jacket and discovered that his cousin had absolutely no intention of leaving without finding Dalia. He waited near the elevators while Regina returned to the bar. Dalia was there with Deja and Saskia. Regina approached. “Dalia.” She turned. The reflective green contacts caught the light. “Well, hello, beautiful.” Regina smiled. “I believe it's time for me to go.” Dalia's expression softened. “Already?” “Adrian has an early morning.” “Poor bastard.” Regina laughed. “He volunteered to come with me.” “A terrible decision.” “He's beginning to think so.” Dalia smiled. Then took Regina's hand. “Come here.” Regina stepped closer. Their kiss was warm, comfortable, and entirely unconcerned with the small audience around them. When they separated, Regina rested a hand against Dalia's cheek. “Dinner?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” “No business.” “Absolutely none.” “No unexpected investigations.” Dalia looked thoughtful. “I can promise not to start any.” Regina laughed. “Fair.” “And Regina?” “Yes?” Dalia's expression became unexpectedly serious. “Take a proper day off.” Regina regarded her. Then smiled. “I'll try.” “No. Try harder.” “Bossy.” “Spectacularly.” Regina kissed her once more. “Good night, Dalia.” “Good night, beautiful.” Regina turned toward Deja and Saskia. “Lovely meeting you both.” Deja smiled. “Likewise.” Saskia nodded. “Enjoy your morning.” Regina laughed. “I intend to sleep through most of it.” “Excellent plan,” Deja said. Then Regina walked toward Adrian. Dalia watched her go. Deja glanced at her. “Happy?” Dalia smiled. “Very.” “Good.” Saskia regarded her. “What?” Dalia looked between them. “Nothing.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Dalia.” She laughed. “All right.” “I'm listening.” Dalia looked back toward the elevators. Then smiled. “I think I've found somebody worth getting to know.” Deja's expression warmed. “That's wonderful.” Dalia turned. “And what about you two?” Saskia smiled. “Oh, we're doing rather well.” Deja nodded. “Exceptionally.” Dalia laughed. “Good.” She slipped an arm around each of them. “Come on. Let's find the others before Mandi convinces somebody to buy her another pair of shoes.” --- Suzy found Rogue checking the arrangements for the departing guests. Not hovering over them. Simply making certain that transport access was operating smoothly and that anyone who wanted a few more hours had no reason to feel hurried. Rogue finished speaking with the staff coordinator. Then turned. “Everything all right?” Suzy smiled. “Perfectly.” “Good.” She regarded Suzy. “What's that expression?” “What expression?” “The one that means somebody's told you something interesting.” Suzy laughed. “Darling, you've spent the whole evening accusing people of plotting.” “And I've been right.” “Occasionally.” “Frequently.” Suzy stepped closer. “Wakako and I had a lovely conversation.” Rogue's expression sharpened. “About?” “The women.” “Which women?” Suzy gave her a look. Rogue sighed. “All eleven?” “Possibly.” Rogue stared. Suzy smiled. “What?” “You're enjoying this.” “Immensely.” Rogue considered. Then leaned against the counter. “What did she ask?” “Nothing improper.” “Suzy.” “She wanted to know whether, on some hypothetical future occasion, I might pass along invitations.” Rogue was silent. Suzy waited. Then Rogue began smiling. “Oh, that sneaky old bitch.” Suzy laughed. “Darling!” “Eleven?” “Possibly.” Rogue shook her head. Then she looked toward Wakako. The older fixer was sitting beside Panam, listening intently to something the nomad was saying. No grand gestures. No announcement. Just two women who seemed to be genuinely enjoying one another. Rogue's smile softened. “She really likes them.” Suzy nodded. “She does.” “Not just the idea of them.” “No.” Rogue looked back. “Good.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “That's all?” “What?” “No interrogation? No demand to know the rest?” Rogue considered. Then grinned. “Do you know the rest?” “No.” “Then why waste a perfectly good interrogation?” Suzy burst out laughing. Rogue drew her closer. “Besides.” “Yes?” “If Wakako wants to invite them, she'll do it properly.” Suzy nodded. “I think so too.” “And if they want to go…” “They'll decide for themselves.” Rogue smiled. “Exactly.” Across the room, Wakako noticed Rogue looking in her direction. Their eyes met. Rogue slowly raised her whiskey. Wakako raised her tea. Neither said a word. Panam looked between them. Then sighed. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Wakako turned. “My dear?” “You two are doing that thing again.” Rogue couldn't hear her. But she could see Panam's expression. And that was enough. She began laughing. Wakako followed a moment later. Panam looked toward the ceiling. “Goddammit. I'm surrounded by dangerous women.” Wakako touched her hand. “Are you complaining?” Panam looked back at her. Then grinned. “Not even a little.” --- A little later, Mandi found Rogue standing with Suzy. She approached with an expression of exaggerated solemnity. Rogue noticed immediately. “Oh, no.” Mandi stopped. “What?” “Whatever it is, no.” “I HAVEN'T ASKED ANYTHING!” “Good. Keep it that way.” Suzy started laughing. Mandi folded her arms. “Rogue.” “Mandi.” “I have come to deliver an official complaint.” Rogue sighed. “Against whom?” “Your guests.” “All of them?” “Several.” “On what grounds?” Mandi considered. Then looked toward Dino and Tomas. Both men waved. Mandi waved back. “Being too fucking charming.” Rogue stared. Then laughed. “Complaint denied.” “ROGUE!” “Next case.” Mandi looked scandalized. Suzy was laughing. Then Mandi's expression softened. She stepped closer. “Actually…” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “Thank you.” The sudden change caught Rogue's attention. “For?” “Tonight.” Mandi smiled. “It was wonderful.” Rogue regarded her for a moment. Then her own expression softened, almost imperceptibly. “Glad you enjoyed it.” “I did.” “Good.” Mandi stepped closer and hugged her. Rogue returned it. There was none of the exaggerated theatricality Mandi had deployed for most of the evening. Just genuine affection. When Mandi drew back, Rogue touched her shoulder. “Behave yourself.” Mandi beamed. “NEVER!” Rogue laughed. “Thought not.” Then Mandi turned toward Suzy. “And YOU.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Me?” Mandi smiled. “Thank you too.” Suzy's expression warmed. “Come here, sweetheart.” They embraced. Mandi kissed her cheek. Suzy returned the affection. And for a moment, the three women stood together without anybody feeling the need to make a joke. Then Mandi stepped back. Looked toward Rogue. And grinned. “One question.” Rogue closed her eyes. “Oh, Christ.” “IF WAKAKO HAS A COSTUME PARTY—” “Mandi.” “—DO WE GET AN ADVANCE FOOTWEAR BUDGET?” Suzy burst out laughing. Rogue stared at her. Then pointed toward the dance floor. “Go.” Mandi beamed. “LOVE YOU TOO!” She marched away. Rogue watched her go. Then looked at Suzy. “I'm going to fucking kill her.” Suzy laughed. “No, darling.” “No?” “You're going to invite her back.” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Yeah.” She took Suzy's hand. “Probably.” --- Somewhere near the windows, Wakako Okada watched Mandi disappear into the remaining guests. She smiled. Panam noticed. “Still thinking?” “Always.” “About the shoes?” “Among other things.” Panam laughed. Wakako looked toward Rogue. Then at the women scattered through the room. Each enjoying the evening in her own way. Each with her own preferences, relationships, and reasons for being there. She thought of the conversation she'd had with Suzy. Of how firmly the younger woman had protected her colleagues' freedom to choose. Of how Rogue had assembled an evening without making anybody perform for her. And of how much pleasure could emerge when people were treated as guests rather than assets. Wakako smiled again. There were many ways to arrange a memorable evening. But she was beginning to suspect that the most important part wasn't the venue, the music, or even the occasion. It was knowing whom you wanted to see happy. Panam touched her hand. “What?” Wakako turned. “Nothing, my dear.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Wakako.” The older woman's smile widened. “Would you care for another dance?” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, you sneaky woman.” “Is that a yes?” Panam offered her hand. “Fuck yes.” And they returned to the dance floor. Not to make a statement. Not to impress Rogue. Simply because the music was beautiful, the company was excellent, and neither woman was ready for the evening to end. --- From the bar, Rogue watched them. Then raised her glass. “Good for you, Wakako.” Suzy leaned against her. “Did you say something?” Rogue smiled. “Nothing.” Suzy studied her. Then laughed. “Oh, darling.” “What?” “You're learning.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Am I?” “Sometimes it's nice to let other people have their secrets.” Rogue looked at Wakako and Panam. Then at Mandi, who was laughing with Dino and Tomas again. Finally, she looked at Suzy. And grinned. “Don't get used to it.” --- ## Chapter 30 — An Invitation Without Conditions Panam Palmer had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to decide whether Wakako Okada was deliberately driving her mad. The evidence was considerable. The woman danced beautifully. She smiled at precisely the wrong moments. She had an infuriating talent for turning perfectly ordinary questions into opportunities for mischief. And whenever Panam began to think she understood what Wakako wanted, the older woman would do something unexpectedly tender. Like now. The music had slowed, and Wakako was standing close enough that Panam could feel the warmth of her hand against her shoulder. Neither had spoken for nearly a minute. It was the longest silence Panam had enjoyed all evening without feeling compelled to fill it. Then Wakako looked up. “My dear.” “Yeah?” “You seem troubled.” Panam snorted. “Troubled?” “Perhaps distracted.” “That's closer.” Wakako smiled. “May I ask why?” Panam looked at her. Then laughed. “Oh, you've got some fucking nerve.” Wakako's eyebrows rose. “Have I?” “Seriously?” “I believe so.” Panam shook her head. “Wakako.” “Yes?” “Are you going to spend the rest of the night pretending you don't know I'm attracted to you?” The older woman's expression changed. Her amusement remained, but something more direct appeared beneath it. “No,” she said. Panam blinked. That was unexpected. Wakako smiled. “I believe we've established our attraction rather thoroughly.” “Yeah.” “And I have enjoyed every moment.” Panam's expression softened. “So have I.” “Then perhaps we should stop treating it as an unsolved mystery.” Panam laughed. “Thank fucking God.” Wakako's smile widened. They continued dancing. But something had shifted. There was no longer any reason to pretend the evening was simply a pleasant coincidence. They liked each other. They wanted to spend more time together. And both were perfectly capable of making their own decisions. Panam studied Wakako for a moment. “You know something?” “What?” “I expected you to be a lot more difficult.” Wakako laughed. “My dear, I am extraordinarily difficult.” “Professionally, sure.” “And personally?” Panam considered. “Personally, you're kind of wonderful.” Wakako stopped laughing. For a heartbeat she simply looked at Panam. Then her expression softened. “That,” she said quietly, “is a very generous thing to say.” Panam shrugged. “It's true.” Wakako touched her cheek. “Thank you.” Panam looked almost embarrassed. Then grinned. “Don't get sentimental on me.” Wakako laughed. “Heaven forbid.” They moved together through another slow turn. Then Wakako asked, “Would you care to spend the rest of the evening with me?” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Here?” “Not necessarily.” Panam looked at her. Wakako returned the look steadily. “My home,” she said. There it was. No elaborate invitation. No clever evasion. Just three words. Panam smiled slowly. “Are you asking me to come home with you?” “Yes.” “And stay?” “If you'd like.” Panam considered her for a moment. Then leaned closer. “Wakako.” “Yes, my dear?” “Do you have any fucking idea how long I've been hoping you'd ask?” Wakako laughed. “Oh, Panam.” “What?” “I was beginning to wonder the same thing about you.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Goddammit!” --- They left the dance floor together. Neither was in a hurry. Panam wanted to find Sera and Nadia before leaving. Wakako wanted a word with Daichi. And both intended to say goodbye to their hostess. It wasn't complicated. Or at least it shouldn't have been. Unfortunately, the first person Panam encountered was Mandi. “PANAM!” Panam stopped. “Oh, shit.” Mandi approached with the boundless enthusiasm of someone who had apparently discovered a fresh reserve of energy somewhere between the desserts and the dance floor. Dino and Tomas followed at a safer distance. Mandi looked at Wakako. Then Panam. Then their joined hands. Her black-contact eyes widened. “Oh.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Mandi.” The petite woman smiled. A truly magnificent smile. “OH.” “Mandi.” “OOOOOH.” Wakako began laughing. Panam closed her eyes. “Don't.” Mandi placed a hand over her heart. “I HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING!” “You've said plenty.” “WITH MY FACE!” “Yes!” Mandi turned toward Wakako. “Are you stealing Panam?” Wakako considered. Then smiled. “My dear, I don't believe Panam is available to be stolen.” Panam opened her eyes. Looked at her. Then grinned. “Best fucking answer I've heard all night.” Mandi regarded Wakako with profound admiration. “Oh, I really like you.” Wakako laughed. “Thank you.” Then Mandi leaned closer to Panam. “Have fun.” The words were surprisingly quiet. Panam's expression softened. “Thanks.” Mandi kissed her cheek. Panam returned the affection. Then Mandi stepped back. Looked toward Wakako. And raised one finger. “One thing.” Panam groaned. “Oh, Christ.” Wakako smiled patiently. “Yes?” “If you throw a costume party…” “Mandi.” “…you absolutely MUST tell me the dress code early.” Panam burst out laughing. Wakako inclined her head. “I shall remember.” Mandi beamed. “EXCELLENT!” She turned and marched toward Dino and Tomas. Panam watched her go. Then shook her head. “That woman is going to bankrupt a shoe manufacturer.” Wakako laughed. “I suspect the manufacturers would consider her a blessing.” Sera noticed Panam approaching before Nadia did. Not because she was watching the dance floor. She'd been talking with Nadia about their installation concept, occasionally sketching a shape in the air as though that would help explain how light should behave when people entered a room. Then she stopped. Her silver-white hair lifted slightly. Nadia looked up. “Owner?” Panam approached with a grin. “Hey.” Nadia looked from Panam to Wakako. Then smiled. “Oh.” Sera's expression warmed immediately. “Hello.” Panam stepped close and kissed her. It was a familiar kiss, full of the easy affection that existed between them without needing to be explained. Sera drew her into an embrace. When they separated, Panam looked at Nadia. “Having fun?” “Enormously, Owner.” “Good.” Nadia stepped closer. Panam kissed her too. Then Nadia looked at Wakako. Her smile broadened. “Wonderful evening?” Wakako inclined her head. “Very much.” Sera looked between them. She didn't need an explanation. But she waited for one anyway. Panam grinned. “Wakako invited me home.” Nadia's expression became positively radiant. “Oh!” Sera laughed softly. “How lovely.” Panam shook her head. “Goddammit, you two.” “What?” Nadia asked. “You're acting like this is perfectly ordinary.” Nadia tilted her head. “Two people enjoying one another's company?” Panam stared. Nadia smiled. “Scandalous.” Sera began laughing. Panam pointed at her. “You're enjoying this.” “Very much.” Then Sera's expression softened. She took Panam's hand. “I'm happy for you.” Panam looked at her. The humor quieted. “Yeah?” “Yes.” Sera leaned closer and kissed her again. “Have a wonderful night.” Panam's expression warmed. “Thanks, sweetheart.” Nadia slipped an arm around Sera. “And don't worry about us, Owner. We've got plenty to talk about.” Panam looked suspicious. “That's what worries me.” Nadia grinned. “Art.” “Uh-huh.” “Entirely innocent art.” Sera's hair rose another inch. Panam sighed. “Oh, fuck.” Wakako began laughing. --- Daichi was standing beside Birgitta near the bar. They had settled into a conversation that apparently involved something funny enough to make Birgitta cover her mouth while laughing. Wakako approached. “Daichi.” He turned. “Auntie.” Birgitta smiled. “Wakako.” “My dear.” Panam came to stand beside her. Daichi regarded them with interest. “Everything all right?” “Perfectly,” Wakako replied. She glanced at Birgitta. Then back at her nephew. “I am going home shortly.” Daichi nodded. “Of course.” “I wanted to make certain you had your own arrangements.” He smiled. “Yes.” “Good.” Then Wakako paused. “Are you enjoying the evening?” “Very much.” Birgitta laughed. “That makes two of us.” Wakako's expression warmed. “Wonderful.” Panam turned toward Birgitta. “Sweetheart.” “Owner.” Panam touched her cheek. “I'm leaving with Wakako.” Birgitta's smile widened. “Oh!” Panam laughed. “Here we go.” Birgitta looked positively delighted. “That's wonderful!” Panam shook her head. “You and Nadia have apparently been practicing the same reaction.” “Perhaps we're both very wise women.” Daichi laughed. Wakako smiled. Birgitta stepped closer. “Have a lovely night, Owner.” Panam drew her into a warm embrace. “You too.” Birgitta looked up at her. “I intend to.” Panam glanced toward Daichi. Then back at Birgitta. “Good.” The affectionate understanding between them needed no further explanation. Panam kissed her. Birgitta returned it warmly. When they separated, Wakako turned toward her nephew. “Take care, Daichi.” He smiled. “You too, Auntie.” There was a brief, affectionate exchange between them. Then Wakako looked at Birgitta. “Thank you for making his evening so enjoyable.” Birgitta's expression softened. “Oh, he's made mine just as wonderful.” Daichi smiled. And Wakako, who could usually read her nephew with embarrassing accuracy, decided that whatever came next was entirely his own business. --- Rogue saw them approaching. She was standing beside Suzy, reviewing something on a staff terminal. One look at Panam's expression was enough. Rogue set the terminal aside. “Well.” Panam groaned. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Suzy began laughing. Wakako smiled. “Rogue.” “Wakako.” “Thank you for a wonderful evening.” Rogue studied her. Then Panam. Then their joined hands. A slow grin appeared. “Leaving?” “Yes.” “Together?” Panam folded her arms. “Want a written report?” Suzy burst out laughing. Rogue shook her head. “Nope.” “Good.” “Just checking whether I should tell my staff to expect you back.” Wakako smiled. “Not tonight.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. Then looked at Panam. “Palmer.” “What?” “Enjoy yourself.” Panam stared. Then laughed. “Jesus Christ, Rogue.” “What?” “Nothing.” Rogue grinned. Wakako reached for her hand. “Thank you again.” Rogue squeezed it. “My pleasure.” Then the two older women looked at one another. And Rogue's grin became slightly sharper. “Still thinking about my challenge?” Wakako sighed. “My dear.” “What?” “Must we discuss that now?” Rogue considered. Then laughed. “No.” “Good.” “Tomorrow?” Panam burst out laughing. Wakako shook her head. “Incorrigible.” “Professionally.” Suzy laughed. “Go home, both of you.” Wakako smiled. “An excellent suggestion.” --- The elevator descended through the Night Corp tower. For the first time in hours, there was no music. No crowd. No one trying to overhear a conversation. Just the soft mechanical sound of the lift and the distant city visible through its glass wall. Panam stood beside Wakako. Then glanced down at their hands. Still joined. She smiled. Wakako noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “An unconvincing answer.” Panam laughed. “You've been rubbing off on me.” “Have I?” “Unfortunately.” Wakako smiled. Then Panam turned toward her. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Do you ever get tired of being Wakako Okada?” Wakako regarded her. The question was unexpected. Not unwelcome. Just unexpected. “Explain.” Panam considered. “Everybody knows you. Everybody expects things from you. Half the people you meet are probably trying to work out whether you're useful or dangerous.” Wakako smiled faintly. “Usually both.” “Exactly.” Panam leaned against the elevator wall. “Doesn't it ever get fucking exhausting?” Wakako looked out toward the descending lights. “Yes.” The answer was quiet. Panam waited. Wakako continued. “Sometimes.” Panam nodded. “Yeah.” Then Wakako looked back. “And you?” “What about me?” “Do you ever tire of being the woman everyone expects to survive anything?” Panam went still. That was an annoyingly good question. She looked at Wakako. Then laughed softly. “Fuck.” Wakako smiled. “I shall take that as a yes.” “Yeah.” A pause. Then Panam added, “Sometimes.” Wakako stepped closer. “Then perhaps tonight we can both take a little time away from other people's expectations.” Panam regarded her. Her expression softened. “I'd like that.” Wakako touched her cheek. “So would I.” Panam kissed her. And this time neither looked particularly interested in ending the kiss quickly. Wakako's transport was waiting in a private pickup bay beneath the tower. A driver acknowledged her arrival and opened the door. Panam regarded the vehicle. Then Wakako. “Comfortable.” “I hoped it would be.” “Subtle, too.” Wakako smiled. “By my standards.” Panam laughed. They settled into the rear compartment. The city moved around them as the vehicle departed. For a while they talked about the evening. Wakako was amused by Mandi's extraordinary commitment to footwear. Panam explained that the shoes were only one of several subjects on which Mandi possessed enough enthusiasm to overwhelm an unprepared audience. Wakako laughed. “And Dalia?” “Usually the one who manages to bring her back down to earth.” “An impressive skill.” “You have no fucking idea.” They shared a smile. Then Panam looked out at the city. “Something else?” Wakako turned. “What's that?” “The party.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to interrogate me again?” “No.” “Good.” Panam grinned. “I'm just saying, if you ever do it, you should do whatever you actually want.” Wakako considered. “Rather than trying to surpass Rogue?” “Exactly.” A small smile appeared. “That's good advice.” “Don't sound so surprised.” “I wouldn't dream of it.” Panam laughed. Then reached for her hand. For the rest of the journey, they were content to sit close together. --- The residence was quiet. Private. Beautiful without the conspicuous excess Panam had half expected. Wakako spoke briefly with a member of her household staff, then led Panam through to a comfortable sitting room. There were books. A low table. A few pieces of art. And windows overlooking a quieter stretch of the city. Panam stopped. Looked around. Then smiled. “Okay.” Wakako turned. “Okay?” “I like this.” “I'm glad.” “Wasn't expecting it.” “What were you expecting?” Panam considered. “Something more intimidating.” Wakako laughed. “My dear, I spend enough of my life intimidating people. I see no reason to arrange my home around the same principle.” Panam grinned. “Good.” Wakako set aside her evening bag. Then turned toward her. “Would you like anything?” Panam smiled. “Yeah.” “Tea? Something to eat?” Panam stepped closer. “Actually…” Wakako raised an eyebrow. Panam touched her waist. “I'd like you to stop being such a perfect fucking hostess for five minutes.” Wakako went still. Then smiled. “Oh?” “Yeah.” “And what would you prefer?” Panam regarded her. Then leaned closer. “This.” She kissed her. Wakako answered immediately. Her hands settled against Panam's shoulders. And when Panam drew her nearer, Wakako laughed softly against her mouth. For once, the older woman had absolutely no clever reply. They remained close. Their earlier playfulness hadn't disappeared, but the quiet of the house gave it room to become something gentler. Panam brushed a hand along Wakako's cheek. “You all right?” Wakako smiled. “Very.” “Good.” She kissed her again. Wakako drew back just enough to look at her. “Panam.” “Yeah?” “Would you like to stay until morning?” Panam smiled. “I thought that was the idea.” “I prefer not to assume.” “Then don't.” Panam rested her forehead against Wakako's. “I'm staying.” Wakako's expression warmed. “Good.” “And Wakako?” “Yes?” “I'm not here because of the party.” “I know.” “Or the challenge.” “I know.” Panam looked into her eyes. “I'm here because I want you.” For a moment Wakako simply regarded her. Then she smiled. “And I want you, my dear.” Panam laughed softly. “About fucking time we said it plainly.” Wakako kissed her. They crossed the sitting room together, pausing when Wakako touched Panam's wrist. “One moment.” Panam turned. “What?” Wakako looked at her with a mixture of affection and amusement. “My shoes.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” “An evening of dancing has consequences.” “I swear to God, if Mandi finds out—” Wakako laughed. “She'll offer professional advice.” “Extensively.” “Then perhaps we should keep this between ourselves.” Panam grinned. “Deal.” Wakako slipped out of her heels, leaving them neatly beside the furniture. Panam looked down at them. Then at her own boots. “Now that's unfair.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “What is?” “You got rid of yours first.” “Is this a competition?” Panam smiled. “Not unless you want to lose.” Wakako laughed. Then she reached for Panam's hand. “Come.” Panam followed. --- The bedroom was quiet and warmly lit. Nothing about it resembled the elaborate suites at Rogue's party. There was no audience waiting beyond the door. No reason to perform. Panam stopped beside Wakako. For a moment they looked at one another. Then Wakako smiled. “You've gone quiet.” Panam laughed softly. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” “Oh, I rather like hearing you talk.” “Even when I'm swearing?” “Especially when you're being yourself.” Panam's expression softened. “Wakako…” “Yes?” “Come here.” Wakako stepped into her arms. Their kiss was unhurried at first, the same warm familiarity they had discovered on the dance floor. Then Panam drew her closer, and the older woman's composure gave way to a delighted laugh. “You're impatient.” “Sometimes.” “I'd noticed.” Panam smiled against her cheek. “Complaining?” “Not at all.” Wakako touched her face. Then kissed her again. The last of their public formality fell away as they embraced, helping one another out of the beautiful, increasingly unnecessary layers of evening clothing. Panam's usual restless energy softened into care; Wakako answered with an affection she no longer tried to disguise. They moved together toward the bed, still exchanging quiet remarks and kisses, occasionally laughing when one of them found a fresh opportunity to tease the other. They undressed each other between kisses, laughing when a zipper caught or a sleeve refused to cooperate. Panam's jacket hit the floor. Wakako's dress followed, carefully set aside. When they were both bare, they paused, looking at one another in the warm light. “Well,” Panam said. Wakako smiled. “Well.” Panam stepped closer and ran a hand down Wakako's side, over the curve of her waist, the soft skin of her hip. Wakako's breath caught, just a little. Panam kissed her again, deeper this time, and walked them backward until Wakako's knees hit the bed. They went down together. Panam settled over her, one thigh between Wakako's, and the contact made both of them shift. Wakako's hands explored without hesitation—shoulders, back, the scar on Panam's side that she traced with a fingertip. Panam kissed her throat, then lower, taking her time with the places that made Wakako's composure slip. When her mouth closed over a nipple, Wakako's hand settled in her hair, not pushing, just holding. “You're very thorough,” Wakako observed, voice lower than usual. Panam grinned against her skin. “Complaining?” “Not at all.” She continued down, kissing across Wakako's stomach, then the inside of one thigh. Wakako spread her legs without being asked. Panam looked up at her, then licked a slow, deliberate line through her folds. Wakako's hips lifted. Panam settled in, alternating between broad strokes of her tongue and focused attention on her clit, two fingers sliding inside once Wakako was wet enough. She curled them, found the angle that made Wakako's breath turn sharp, and kept it. Wakako came with a quiet sound, one hand gripping the sheet, the other still in Panam's hair. Panam stayed with her until the tension eased, then kissed her way back up. Wakako pulled her into a proper kiss, tasting herself, and rolled them so she was on top. “My turn,” she said. She took her time. Hands first, mapping Panam's body with the same careful attention she gave everything else. When her fingers slipped between Panam's thighs, she was already soaked. Wakako stroked her slowly, thumb circling her clit, two fingers pushing inside and curling. Panam swore and spread her legs wider. Wakako watched her face, adjusting when Panam's breathing changed, adding a third finger when Panam asked for it in a rough voice. “Like that?” “Fuck— yes—” Wakako kept the rhythm steady and deep. Panam came hard, back arching, one hand gripping Wakako's wrist to keep her there. Wakako eased her through it, then withdrew her fingers and brought them to Panam's mouth. Panam licked them clean without breaking eye contact. Wakako's expression softened into something pleased and a little surprised. They shifted again. Panam pulled Wakako down and guided one of her thighs between her own, then reached between them to touch Wakako again. They moved together, slow at first, then faster as the friction built. Wakako's forehead rested against Panam's. Panam's free hand stayed on her hip. When Wakako came a second time, it was quieter, a long exhale against Panam's mouth, her body tightening and then relaxing all at once. Panam followed a moment later, grinding against her thigh, a low sound leaving her throat. They stayed like that, breathing, neither in a hurry to separate. Much later, the city was still awake. Wakako's bedroom was not. At least, not entirely. Panam lay comfortably beside her, one arm resting around her. Neither had any intention of moving. Wakako turned her head. “Panam.” “Hmm?” “Are you asleep?” “No.” A pause. Then Panam opened one eye. “Why?” Wakako smiled. “I was wondering whether you were comfortable.” Panam stared at her. Then laughed. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” “My dear?” “Wakako.” “Yes?” “If I were any more comfortable, you'd need medical assistance to get me out of this bed.” Wakako's laughter was immediate. “An extraordinary compliment.” “It's a good bed.” “Thank you.” “Excellent company, too.” Wakako turned toward her. “Is that so?” Panam smiled. “Pretty damn excellent.” The older woman's expression softened. She touched Panam's cheek. “I've had a wonderful night.” Panam nodded. “Yeah.” Then she grinned. “And it isn't over.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Unless you've got somewhere else to be.” Wakako considered. Then smiled. “Not until morning.” “Good.” Panam drew her closer. “Neither do I.” They kissed. And afterward, instead of immediately resuming their earlier teasing, they rested together in a comfortable silence. Eventually Wakako spoke. “You asked me something in the elevator.” Panam opened her eyes. “Did I?” “Whether I ever tired of being Wakako Okada.” Panam nodded. “Yeah.” Wakako considered. “I think I should give you a better answer.” Panam turned toward her. “Okay.” The older woman looked thoughtful. “I don't tire of who I am.” “Good.” “But I do tire of being what everyone else needs me to be.” Panam listened. Wakako continued. “Tonight has been rather pleasant because you haven't required me to be anything in particular.” Panam smiled. “Neither have you.” “No.” “That's kind of the point.” Wakako regarded her. Then touched her cheek. “Yes,” she said softly. “I believe it is.” Panam kissed her forehead. Then settled beside her again. --- Somewhere in the distance, a vehicle passed along one of the city's elevated routes. Panam heard it. Recognized the familiar rise and fall of an engine under load. And smiled to herself. Wakako noticed. “What?” “Engine.” “Ah.” “Sounds like somebody's transmission needs work.” Wakako stared. Then burst out laughing. “Panam!” “What?” “You are lying beside me in the middle of the night, and you're diagnosing passing vehicles?” Panam grinned. “Can't help it.” Wakako laughed harder. “Oh, my dear.” “Occupational hazard.” “Clearly.” Panam turned toward her. “Still like me?” Wakako's expression softened. “Very much.” “Good.” She kissed her. Then added, “Because that one's probably going to get worse.” Wakako laughed. “Then I suppose I'll have to become accustomed to it.” Panam smiled. “Or get me better engines to listen to.” “An interesting proposal.” “Oh, no.” Wakako raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Don't start planning some elaborate fucking surprise.” The older woman's smile became mischievous. “My dear Panam.” “Wakako.” “Would I?” Panam stared. Then laughed so hard she had to bury her face against Wakako's shoulder. “Oh, GODDAMMIT.” Wakako wrapped her arms around her. And laughed with her. It was some time before they finally settled. Wakako rested comfortably against Panam. Panam's arm remained around her. The room was warm. The city was distant. And neither had any interest in becoming someone else's problem before morning. Then Panam murmured, “One thing.” Wakako smiled without opening her eyes. “Yes?” “If you do throw that party…” “My dear.” “Just saying.” “Go on.” Panam grinned. “Don't let Mandi design the entire fucking dress code.” Wakako opened her eyes. Considered. Then smiled. “Why ever not?” Panam stared. A terrible realization dawned. “Oh, you evil woman.” Wakako laughed softly. Panam shook her head. “Rogue has no fucking idea what she's started.” “Perhaps not.” “And you?” Wakako considered. Then touched Panam's cheek. “I have a few ideas.” Panam looked at her. Then smiled. “Of course you do.” Wakako kissed her. “Sleep, my dear.” Panam laughed softly. “Bossy.” “Occasionally.” “Good.” She drew Wakako comfortably against her. And this time, the silence lasted. Outside, Night City continued its endless negotiations with wealth, power, danger, and desire. Inside, two women who had spent much of their lives refusing to be controlled by anyone else had discovered something unexpectedly simple. They could choose one another without surrendering themselves. For tonight, that was more than enough. And somewhere across the city, Rogue Amendiares remained blissfully unaware that Wakako Okada had found an exceptionally persuasive reason to look forward to another gathering. Not a venue. Not a costume. Not an opportunity to defeat an old rival. A certain stubborn nomad who made her laugh. --- ## Chapter 31 — The Last Honest Hour Rogue Amendiares knew when a party was ending. It wasn't the hour. Night City had never been particularly respectful of clocks. It wasn't the music, either. She'd seen parties continue for hours after the performers went home, usually because somebody had discovered something stronger than good judgment. No. It was a change in the way people occupied a room. Early in the evening, guests watched one another. Later, they approached. And eventually, if everything went well, they stopped worrying about whether they were being watched at all. That was where her party had arrived. Regina and Adrian had already departed. Wakako had taken Panam home, a development Rogue intended to enjoy discussing with the older fixer at some considerably less convenient moment. Padre had offered his farewell earlier, leaving Gabriel free to decide how to spend the remainder of his evening. The others were still here. Not because Rogue expected them to stay. Because no one had quite finished enjoying themselves. Suzy came up beside her. “You've been standing there for five minutes.” “Four.” “Counting?” “Observing.” Suzy followed her gaze. Mandi was sitting between Dino and Tomas near the windows, saying something that had both men laughing. Rogue looked pleased. Suzy nudged her. “Go on.” “What?” “Say it.” Rogue glanced at her. “Say what?” “That your party was a success.” Rogue took a sip of whiskey. “Of course it was.” Suzy laughed. “There she is.” Rogue turned to her. “Were you expecting a confession of self-doubt?” “From you? Never.” “Good.” Suzy leaned closer. “Although I admit, I didn't expect Wakako to leave with Panam.” Rogue's mouth twitched. “I did.” “When?” “About five minutes before they left.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Very impressive.” “I've had worse nights.” “You've had worse intelligence.” “Frequently.” Suzy slipped a hand around her waist. “And now?” Rogue looked across the room again. “Now I think I'll let them finish.” --- Mandi had finally stopped standing. This was sufficiently unusual that Dino had noticed immediately. He settled into the chair on her left while Tomas returned from the buffet with three small plates. Mandi eyed them suspiciously. “Are you trying to feed me again?” Tomas put one plate in front of her. “Yes.” “I've eaten.” “Several desserts.” “Those count.” “They do,” Tomas agreed. “But this one's actually dinner.” Mandi considered the food. Then looked at him. “You're dangerously thoughtful.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't entirely a compliment.” “I'll take my chances.” Dino laughed. Mandi picked up a fork. The three ate for a while, watching the city through the enormous windows. After the noise of the evening, the conversation felt surprisingly comfortable. Dino loosened his collar. “Have I told you what a relief it is to attend a party where nobody asks me to arrange anything?” Mandi looked up. “Aren't you off duty?” “Technically.” “What's the problem?” “People don't believe fixers have an off switch.” Tomas nodded. “Yesterday somebody called him during dinner.” “A client?” Mandi asked. “Worse,” Dino replied. “An acquaintance.” Mandi winced. “Oh, fuck.” “He wanted an introduction.” “To whom?” “Someone I wouldn't introduce him to even if he paid me.” Tomas smiled. “Mandi understands.” “OF COURSE I DO.” Then she stopped. Looked around at the quieter guests. And lowered her voice. “People do that with me, too.” Dino turned toward her. “Ask for introductions?” “Sometimes.” “To whom?” Mandi made a vague gesture. “Other women. Sometimes Dalia. Sometimes people they've seen me with.” Tomas frowned. “Even socially?” “Especially socially.” She took another bite. “They assume that knowing me gives them a way into everyone else's life.” Dino's amusement faded. “Ah.” Mandi nodded. “Exactly.” Tomas put down his fork. “And what do you tell them?” “Usually something extremely rude.” Dino laughed. Mandi grinned. “Professionally rude, of course.” “Of course.” Then her expression became more thoughtful. “It's not the asking that's irritating. People can ask.” Dino nodded. “It's the assumption.” “YES.” Mandi pointed at him. “Exactly!” Tomas leaned back. “So tonight's been different?” Mandi considered. Then smiled. “Very.” “Why?” She looked between them. “Because neither of you has asked me for anything.” Dino regarded her. Then raised an eyebrow. “I believe I asked you to dance.” Mandi laughed. “Yes, you did.” “And Tomas asked whether you wanted dessert.” “Several times.” Tomas smiled. “An ongoing professional responsibility.” Mandi shook her head. “Idiots.” “Both of us,” Dino agreed. She looked at them again. Then her smile softened. “Lovely idiots.” For a moment neither man made a joke. Dino reached over and touched her hand. “We've enjoyed your company, Mandi.” “Really?” “Very much.” Tomas nodded. “Not just because you're beautiful.” Mandi opened her mouth. He raised a finger. “Although you are.” She grinned. “Excellent recovery.” “But because you're interesting. And because I haven't laughed this much in months.” Mandi regarded him. Then glanced at Dino. Dino nodded. “Same.” She looked down at their hands. For once, the woman who could make an entire room listen to a speech about high heels seemed content to remain quiet. Dino was the one who finally spoke. “Can I ask you something?” Mandi looked up. “Depends.” “On?” “Whether it's stupid.” Tomas laughed. Dino grinned. “Fair.” He took a moment. “Would you like to see us again?” Mandi's expression changed. Not with surprise at the interest. With pleasure at the way he'd asked. “Together?” “If you'd like.” “Separately?” “If you'd prefer.” “Both?” Tomas smiled. “Entirely possible.” Mandi studied them. Then laughed softly. “God, you're both dangerously reasonable.” Dino shrugged. “We try.” She leaned back in her chair. “Then yes.” Dino's smile arrived immediately. Tomas looked equally pleased. Mandi pointed between them. “But no making decisions for one another.” “Agreed,” Tomas said. Dino nodded. “Absolutely.” “And nobody gets to be offended if somebody wants a quiet evening instead of whatever ridiculous adventure the other two have invented.” Tomas tilted his head. “Does that happen often?” Mandi gave him a look. “Darling, have you met me?” Dino burst out laughing. “Fair point.” Mandi smiled. Then reached for their hands. “I'd love to see you both again.” Tomas leaned closer. “May I?” Mandi nodded. He kissed her gently. Dino waited until she turned toward him, then answered the invitation in her eyes with a kiss of his own. Mandi drew back, pleased with herself. “Excellent.” Dino raised an eyebrow. “What is?” “My evening.” Tomas laughed. “You're rating it?” “Of course.” “Out of ten?” Mandi considered. “Fourteen.” Dino grinned. “Only fourteen?” She leaned closer. “Gentlemen, the night's not over.” --- At the bar, Gabriel was discovering that Bea was considerably more observant than she'd initially allowed him to believe. She was sitting beside him with her chin-length ice-blue hair framing a face that gave away exactly as much as she wanted. “You've been looking toward the elevators,” she observed. Gabriel turned. “Have I?” “Yes.” “Habit.” “Worried about Sebastian?” Gabriel smiled. “No. He'll be fine.” “Good.” He considered her for a moment. “You've been watching Rogue.” Bea's expression grew amused. “Have I?” “Yes.” “Habit.” Gabriel laughed. “Very good.” They shared a quiet smile. Then Bea looked toward the windows. Rogue was standing with Suzy, one arm around her waist, listening while the younger woman said something that made her grin. Bea's expression softened. “She looks happy.” Gabriel followed her gaze. “Yes.” “I like seeing that.” “So do I.” Bea turned back. “Sebastian knows her well?” “For a long time.” “And you?” “Not nearly as well.” Bea smiled. “Although I suspect you've learned a little more about her tonight.” Gabriel laughed. “Perhaps.” He took a sip of water. Then looked at Bea. “May I tell you something?” “Of course.” “I came here expecting an enjoyable evening.” “A reasonable expectation.” “But I didn't expect to meet someone quite like you.” Bea's smile changed. “How disappointing. I was trying so hard to be ordinary.” Gabriel laughed. “You've failed spectacularly.” “Tragic.” “Entirely.” He reached across the small space between them. Bea offered her hand. He took it. --- For a while they sat close together, speaking more quietly. Neither had forgotten the earlier private encounter they had shared with Rogue. It had been a wonderful experience, and neither felt any need to pretend otherwise. But this conversation belonged to the two of them. Gabriel brushed his thumb across Bea's fingers. “Would you like to stay a little longer?” Bea considered. “With you?” “Yes.” She smiled. “I would.” He nodded. “Good.” “Although I have a counterproposal.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I'm listening.” “Somewhere quieter.” He regarded her for a moment. Then smiled. “Just the two of us?” “If you'd like.” “Very much.” Bea leaned closer. “Then perhaps we should say our goodbyes.” Gabriel kissed her. It was a gentle beginning that grew warmer when she drew him closer. Her hand settled against his cheek, and he answered with an embrace that left them smiling when they finally separated. “An excellent proposal,” he murmured. “I thought so.” They rose together. And when Gabriel offered his arm, Bea accepted it because she wanted to. Not because she'd arrived with anyone. Not because she belonged to anyone's entourage. Simply because she had found another person whose company she wanted to continue enjoying. Rogue noticed them approaching. She had the decency not to look surprised. “Gabriel.” “Rogue.” “Leaving?” “Yes.” Bea stood beside him. Rogue looked at her. “Good night?” Bea smiled. “Wonderful.” “Good.” Gabriel offered his hand. “Thank you for inviting me.” Rogue shook it. “Glad you came.” Bea stepped closer. “And thank you for earlier.” Rogue regarded her. A small, knowing smile appeared. “My pleasure.” Bea kissed her cheek. Rogue accepted the affection without turning it into a spectacle. Then Bea embraced Suzy. “Wonderful seeing you.” “You too, sweetheart.” Suzy glanced at Gabriel. “Take care of each other.” He nodded. “We will.” Rogue looked toward the elevators. “Transport's available downstairs.” Gabriel smiled. “Thank you.” They departed together. Suzy watched them go. Then turned toward Rogue. “Well?” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Well what?” “They seem happy.” “Apparently.” “Does that please you?” Rogue gave her a look. Suzy smiled. “Darling.” Rogue sighed. “Yes.” Suzy laughed. “There. Was that so difficult?” “Excruciating.” Near the dance floor, Muamar had finally abandoned his idea of a party involving moving platforms. Rafael considered this a substantial improvement. Nova was less convinced. “Captain.” Muamar looked at her. “What?” “Promise me something.” “That depends.” “No motorized dance floors.” Rafael laughed. Muamar put a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” “Good. Perhaps you'll remember.” Vega snorted. “I'm more worried about whatever replaces them.” “Music,” Muamar replied. Vega raised an eyebrow. “Revolutionary.” “Food.” “Unprecedented.” “Dancing.” Nova regarded him. “A party. You're describing a party.” Rafael burst out laughing. Muamar sighed. “You people are impossible.” Vega stepped closer. “Sweetheart, you invited us into the discussion.” “That may have been a mistake.” “Your first correct observation of the evening.” Rafael was laughing so hard he had to turn away. Muamar shook his head. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. “All right.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “All right?” “No ridiculous machinery. No attempts to turn transportation into entertainment.” Vega nodded. “Excellent.” “But I still intend to do something memorable.” Rafael looked at him. “Then make it something you actually enjoy.” The remark landed. Muamar regarded his friend. For once, he didn't immediately answer. Nova watched him think. Then he laughed. “That's the second time I've heard that advice tonight.” “Perhaps,” she replied, “there's a reason.” Muamar considered. Then nodded. “Perhaps.” --- The conversation shifted naturally after that. Away from imaginary parties. Toward the evening they'd actually shared. Rafael stood beside Nova, watching her examine one of the room's enormous decorative installations. “You've been very quiet,” he observed. Nova turned her white-void eyes toward him. “Have I?” “By your standards.” She smiled. “I'm enjoying myself.” “So am I.” He stepped closer. “May I ask whether I'll see you again?” Nova regarded him. “Do you want to?” “Yes.” “Then ask me properly.” Rafael laughed. “Would you like to go out with me sometime, Nova?” She smiled. “Yes.” He seemed delighted. “Good.” “Although I expect you to choose somewhere interesting.” “Oh?” “No grand gestures required. Just somewhere you'd actually enjoy taking me.” He nodded. “I can do that.” “Excellent.” She touched his cheek. Then kissed him. When they separated, Rafael smiled. “I have to say, you're a remarkable woman.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “Only just noticed?” He laughed. “Not remotely.” Vega had watched the exchange with considerable amusement. Then she turned toward Muamar. “Well?” He looked at her. “Well what?” “Are you going to make me do all the work?” Muamar laughed. “Would you object?” “Depends.” “On?” “Whether you're any good at following instructions.” He grinned. “Try me.” Vega stepped closer. “Kiss me, Captain.” He did. She answered without hesitation, drawing him close enough to make him laugh when they separated. “Better,” she said. Muamar raised an eyebrow. “Only better?” “You can work toward excellent.” Rafael, overhearing, groaned. “Oh, for God's sake.” Nova laughed. Muamar grinned. “Challenge accepted.” Vega looked delighted. “Now there's an attitude I can appreciate.” A little later, the four approached Rogue together. Rogue looked them over. “Everything intact?” Muamar sighed. “Yes.” “Any moving platforms?” “Absolutely not.” “Good.” Nova looked impressed. “She's remarkably efficient.” Rogue grinned. “Occupational necessity.” Vega leaned against the counter. “We're going to head out.” Rogue nodded. “Had fun?” “Far too much,” Vega replied. Muamar smiled. “Excellent evening.” Rafael nodded. “Truly.” Rogue regarded them. Then raised her glass. “Glad to hear it.” There were farewells. Warm ones. Muamar and Rafael exchanged a final affectionate goodbye with Vega and Nova respectively, then made their way toward the elevators. The Marlows remained a moment longer. Vega looked toward the windows. “Fucking hell.” Nova turned. “What?” “Nice place.” Nova surveyed the room. “Very.” “Think she'll do it again?” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Standing right here.” Vega grinned. “Noticed.” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Ask me another time.” Nova laughed. “Fair enough.” They said goodnight and followed the others toward the elevators, the two professional partners already discussing the easiest route home. Dalia noticed their departure from near the quieter end of the bar. Deja stood beside her. Saskia had gone to collect her coat, while Dakota was finishing a conversation near the windows. “Those two looked happy,” Deja observed. Dalia followed her gaze. “Which two?” “The Marlows.” Dalia smiled. “They generally know how to have a good time.” Deja regarded her. Then looked toward the windows, where Dakota had finally finished talking and was searching for them. “And Dakota?” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “What about her?” Deja smiled with entirely too much innocence. “Nothing.” Dalia removed her menthol lollipop. “Sweetheart.” “Yes?” “You're doing that thing.” “What thing?” “Pretending you aren't interested in someone.” Deja considered. Then nodded. “Ah.” “Ah?” “I'm interested.” Dalia blinked. Then laughed. “Well, fuck me. That was easy.” Deja's amber eyes brightened. “Would you have preferred a complicated denial?” “Not particularly.” “Good.” Dakota approached. “Everything all right?” Dalia grinned. “Perfectly.” Deja turned toward her. “Dakota.” “Yes?” “About that dinner.” Dakota's expression warmed. “Yes?” “I'd like to arrange it.” “So would I.” “Somewhere we can talk without Saskia confiscating the stationery.” Dakota laughed. “Agreed.” Saskia returned just in time to hear the last remark. “Oh, absolutely not.” Deja turned. “What?” “You two are not going on a date with a notebook.” Dakota looked offended. “Who said anything about a notebook?” Saskia stared at her. Dakota smiled. Deja's expression remained perfectly serene. Dalia began laughing. Saskia folded her arms. “I know exactly what you two are like.” Deja inclined her head. “Then you'll understand why we should select a restaurant with excellent lighting.” “Why?” “Easier to read diagrams.” Saskia groaned. Dalia doubled over. Dakota finally surrendered and laughed. --- Near the windows, Anna and Wade had found a quiet place to exchange contact details without attracting half the room's attention. Evelyn joined them after saying goodbye to Suzy. She glanced between them. “Everything arranged?” Wade looked at her. “Evelyn.” “What?” Anna smiled. “Dinner.” Evelyn's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Later,” Anna clarified. “Of course.” Wade sighed. “Please don't.” Evelyn smiled sweetly. “I haven't said anything.” “Precisely.” Anna laughed. She stepped closer and kissed Wade. “Good night.” He touched her hand. “Good night, Anna.” Then she turned toward Evelyn. “A pleasure.” “Entirely mine.” Anna departed on her own, leaving the cousins together. Evelyn watched Wade for a moment. Then smiled. “You like her.” He looked at her. “Yes.” Her expression softened. “Good.” That was all she said. And Wade, grateful for the restraint, offered her his arm. “Shall we?” She took it. “Gladly.” --- Across the room, Birgitta and Daichi were still dancing. Neither seemed particularly concerned that the crowd had thinned. Daichi held her hand as they moved, careful without being stiff, his great height no longer something either of them needed to comment on. Birgitta looked up at him. “Are you tired?” “No.” “Good.” “Are you?” She smiled. “Not particularly.” He regarded her. Then hesitated. She noticed immediately. “Daichi.” “Yes?” “Something on your mind?” He considered. Then nodded. “Yes.” “Tell me.” He stopped moving. She remained close. “Would you like to spend more time together?” Birgitta's expression brightened. “I thought that's what we were doing.” He laughed. “I meant after we leave.” “Oh.” She regarded him for a moment. Then smiled. “I would.” His relief was visible. She laughed softly. “Darling.” “Yes?” “You could have asked earlier.” “I wasn't certain.” “About?” “Whether you were enjoying yourself as much as I was.” Birgitta stared. Then laughed. “Oh, Daichi.” She stepped closer and kissed him. His hands settled gently at her waist, and he answered the kiss with an unmistakable warmth that made her linger. When she drew back, she smiled into his face. “Does that answer your question?” He nodded. “Rather thoroughly.” “Good.” She took his hand. “Then perhaps we should find somewhere to continue our evening.” Daichi smiled. “I'd like that.” “Wonderful.” They returned toward the windows to collect their belongings, still talking. And nothing in their manner suggested that either had any intention of hurrying. --- By the time the next round of departures was finished, Rogue had begun to recognize an unfamiliar sensation. Not exhaustion. Not relief. Contentment. Suzy joined her at the windows. “You're doing it again.” Rogue glanced at her. “Doing what?” “Looking pleased.” “Dangerous habit.” “Apparently.” They watched Birgitta and Daichi speaking together. Nearby, Mandi was laughing with Dino and Tomas, while Dalia joined them with Deja, Saskia and Dakota. Sera and Nadia remained deep in conversation at another table, still without producing anything resembling a completed art installation. Rogue shook her head. “What a fucking evening.” Suzy slipped her hand into hers. “Yes.” A comfortable silence followed. Then Rogue turned. “Suzy.” “Yes?” “Next time I get an idea like this…” Suzy waited. Rogue considered. Then grinned. “Remind me to invite the same people.” Suzy's expression softened. “I will.” “And if Wakako actually throws that party…” “Yes?” Rogue smiled. “Remind me to accept.” Suzy laughed. “Oh, darling. I don't think there's any danger of you forgetting.” Rogue glanced toward the spot where Wakako and Panam had last stood together. Then she raised her whiskey in a silent toast. “Your move, Wakako.” Suzy leaned closer. “Still competing?” Rogue looked at her. And smiled. “Always.” Then she kissed Suzy. The party continued around them, quieter now, and all the better for it. For once, Rogue was in no hurry to have the last word. --- ## Chapter 32 — The Art of Leaving There was a moment, somewhere in the small hours, when Rogue Amendiares realized that the evening had finally slipped beyond her control. Not in any dangerous sense. Her security arrangements were intact. The building remained undamaged. Nobody had started a fight, threatened another guest, or attempted to convert the reception into an impromptu business meeting. By Night City standards, it was practically a miracle. But the remaining guests had begun making decisions that had absolutely nothing to do with her. And Rogue, who had spent much of her life arranging other people's decisions, discovered that she rather liked it. Suzy stood beside her, looking toward the windows. “There's something you should know.” Rogue took a sip of whiskey. “Sounds expensive.” “Not financially.” “Worse.” Suzy laughed. “Your guests are planning their exits.” “I've noticed.” “Have you noticed that almost none of them seem particularly interested in going home alone?” Rogue glanced across the room. Mandi was sitting between Dino and Tomas. Deja had reclaimed the infamous napkin from Dakota's jacket pocket, to Saskia's considerable displeasure. Birgitta and Daichi were standing close together near the windows. Sera and Nadia were talking quietly with Dalia. Rogue considered the evidence. Then smiled. “Apparently I throw a hell of a party.” Suzy laughed. “Apparently.” --- Daichi had been trying to formulate a question for nearly ten minutes. Birgitta knew. She had watched him begin three different sentences, abandon all three, and finally settle for asking whether she wanted another drink. She liked him enormously. She also thought his attempts at subtlety were adorable. “Daichi.” He looked down. “Yes?” “Ask.” He blinked. “Ask what?” She smiled. “Whatever you've spent the last ten minutes trying to ask.” He laughed. “Is it that obvious?” “Darling, you're enormous. When you look nervous, the entire room can see it.” He shook his head, smiling. “Fair.” Birgitta took his hand. “Go on.” Daichi studied her for a moment. Then he stopped trying to be clever. “Would you like to spend the night with me?” Birgitta's expression softened. “Yes.” His smile came immediately. She laughed. “That was considerably easier than you expected, wasn't it?” “Much.” “Good.” Then she stepped closer. “But I have a question of my own.” “Anything.” “Will you stop treating me like I might break?” Daichi looked surprised. “Have I?” “A little.” He considered. Then nodded. “I suppose I have.” Birgitta touched his cheek. “I'm not complaining about your kindness.” “I know.” “And I like that you're careful.” He smiled. “But?” “But I'd also like to know what happens when you stop worrying quite so much.” Daichi laughed. “That sounds like a dangerous invitation.” Birgitta leaned closer. “Only if you're frightened of a woman who knows what she wants.” He answered with a kiss. This time there was none of the uncertainty that had accompanied their earliest moments together. Birgitta drew him closer, and Daichi wrapped his arms around her with a warmth that made her sigh happily against his shoulder when they separated. “Better,” she murmured. He smiled. “Much better.” They gathered their belongings. Birgitta checked that she had everything, then slipped her hand into his. “Shall we?” Daichi looked delighted. “Gladly.” --- They approached Rogue together. “Leaving?” Rogue asked. Birgitta nodded. “Yes.” Rogue looked at Daichi. Then back at Birgitta. “Enjoyed yourselves?” “Enormously,” Birgitta replied. Daichi smiled. “Thank you for inviting us.” Rogue nodded. “Good night.” Suzy embraced Birgitta warmly, then stepped back. “Take care, sweetheart.” “I will.” And the two departed together, still close enough that their hands never separated. Rogue watched the elevator doors close. “Nice couple.” Suzy smiled. “Yes.” Rogue took another drink. “Wakako's going to enjoy hearing about that.” Suzy laughed. “Only if Daichi chooses to tell her.” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “Fair.” --- Dakota Smith had reached a conclusion. She was not going to win the argument about the napkin. Saskia had confiscated it. Deja had recovered it. Dakota had attempted to establish that neither woman had the authority to confiscate intellectual property belonging to a third party. Saskia had laughed in her face. And Deja, apparently deciding that the argument needed more fuel, had suggested they open a formal arbitration. “Absolutely not,” Saskia said. Deja regarded her with warm amber eyes. “An objection?” “Yes.” “Noted.” Dakota smiled. “Perhaps we should hear her grounds.” Saskia stared at them. Then laughed. “Oh, you two are absolutely fucking impossible.” Deja smiled sweetly. “We've been told.” “Frequently,” Dakota added. Saskia folded her arms. “Fine.” Both women looked at her. “Here's my counterproposal.” Deja tilted her head. “I'm listening.” “We leave.” Dakota considered. “And?” “And spend the rest of the night somewhere neither of you can start drawing diagrams.” Deja's expression became thoughtful. “An interesting challenge.” Saskia pointed at her. “Don't.” Dakota laughed. Then turned toward Deja. “Would you like to?” Deja's smile softened. “Yes.” Dakota looked at Saskia. “And you?” Saskia stepped closer. “Very much.” For a moment the three women simply regarded one another. Then Deja laughed quietly. “What?” Saskia asked. “Nothing.” “Deja.” “I was thinking how ridiculous this is.” Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Which part?” “That we spent half the evening discussing technical infrastructure, and somehow the most interesting thing I discovered was that I wanted to kiss both of you.” Saskia's expression softened. Dakota smiled. “A useful discovery.” “I thought so.” Deja stepped closer and kissed Dakota. When she drew back, she turned toward Saskia. “And you?” Saskia answered by drawing her into another kiss. Dakota watched with a quiet smile. When the women separated, Saskia looked between them. “Now.” Deja raised an eyebrow. “Now?” “Can we please leave before either of you discovers a faulty lighting circuit?” Dakota burst out laughing. “Agreed.” Deja nodded solemnly. “Very well.” They collected their belongings and made their way toward the elevators. Saskia carried the folded napkin. Neither of the other women protested. At least, not until the elevator doors had nearly closed. “Incidentally,” Deja remarked, “I can reproduce that diagram from memory.” Saskia's horrified expression was the last thing Rogue saw. Dakota's laughter followed them down. “Good God,” Suzy said. Rogue grinned. “Engineers.” “Romantic engineers.” “Apparently.” Suzy shook her head. “I've seen some strange courtship rituals.” Rogue glanced at her. “Try dating a fixer.” Suzy laughed. “Darling, I'm doing exactly that.” “Poor judgment.” “Consistently.” Rogue drew her closer and kissed her. Suzy smiled against her mouth. “Still worth it.” --- Mandi was facing a rather serious problem. It involved two attractive men, an exceptionally successful evening, and a pair of shoes she had no intention of damaging. Dino, who had spent enough time in her company to recognize when something genuinely mattered to her, noticed the direction of her gaze. “Something wrong?” Mandi looked down. Then up. “Possibly.” Tomas followed her gaze. “The shoes?” She nodded. Dino looked concerned. “Are they hurting?” “Absolutely not!” “Good.” “That's not the problem.” Tomas leaned closer. “What is?” Mandi lowered her voice. “If I go home with you two, what happens to them?” Dino stared. Then started laughing. Mandi looked offended. “THIS IS A SERIOUS QUESTION!” Tomas smiled. “We could put them somewhere safe.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “How safe?” “Very.” “Do you have appropriate storage?” Dino buried his face in his hands. Tomas considered. “What would qualify?” Mandi thought about that. Then she smiled slowly. “Oh, I like you.” Tomas laughed. “Thank you.” “Both of you.” Dino looked up. “Even without specialized shoe storage?” Mandi nodded gravely. “Despite that tragic deficiency.” He grinned. “An honor.” She reached for their hands. For a moment the usual extravagance fell away. “Are you both sure?” Dino answered immediately. “Yes.” Tomas nodded. “Very.” Mandi looked between them. “And you're not just saying that because the party's been wonderful?” Tomas considered. Then shook his head. “No.” Dino leaned closer. “We've spent hours with you tonight.” “I noticed.” “We'd like a few more.” Mandi's expression softened. “Oh.” Tomas smiled. “Preferably without competing with half of Night City's fixers for your attention.” She laughed. “THAT'S FAIR!” Then she stood. Looked at both men. And announced, with magnificent dignity: “Gentlemen. Take me somewhere with comfortable furniture and a very secure place for my shoes.” Dino rose, laughing. Tomas offered his arm. “At your service.” Mandi accepted. Then stopped. “WAIT.” Both men turned. “What?” “I need Dally.” Dalia saw them approaching and immediately understood. The smile arrived before Mandi said a word. “Oh, sweetheart.” Mandi stopped. “DALLY.” Dalia folded her arms. “Yes?” “I have news.” “So I see.” “Important news.” “Obviously.” Mandi looked at Dino and Tomas. Then back at Dalia. Her expression turned wicked. “I'm going to have a very nice night.” Dalia laughed. “Are you?” “YES.” “Good.” Mandi blinked. Then narrowed her eyes. “That's it?” “What were you expecting?” “A lecture.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “About?” “Shoes?” Dalia shook her head. “Darling, you've spent half the evening lecturing everyone else about them. I think the subject's been adequately covered.” Dino laughed. Tomas smiled. Mandi regarded her friend and lover. Then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Dalia embraced her immediately. For a moment neither spoke. Then Mandi looked up. “Love you.” Dalia's expression softened. “Love you too.” They kissed, comfortably and without any need to disguise their affection. When they separated, Dalia brushed a strand of screaming neon-orange hair away from Mandi's face. “Message me when you arrive.” Mandi smiled. “Of course.” “And eat something tomorrow.” “DALLY!” “Real food.” “I ALWAYS EAT!” “Chocolate with gold leaf doesn't count as breakfast.” Dino laughed. Mandi looked appalled. “IT ABSOLUTELY DOES!” Dalia sighed. Tomas put a hand over his mouth. Mandi turned to him. “DON'T ENCOURAGE HER!” Dalia looked between the three. Then smiled. “Have fun.” Mandi grinned. “Oh, I intend to.” She stepped back. Then pointed at Dalia. “AND DON'T TOUCH MY SHOE COLLECTION.” Dalia's smile became dangerous. “No promises.” “DALLY!” --- Rogue intercepted the trio before they reached the elevators. Not physically. She simply happened to be standing there. Mandi stopped. Looked up. And grinned. “ROGUE!” “Mandi.” “WE'RE LEAVING!” “I noticed.” Dino smiled. “Wonderful evening.” Tomas nodded. “Thank you.” Rogue regarded them. Then Mandi. “Take care of yourselves.” Mandi nodded enthusiastically. “WE WILL!” A pause. Then Rogue added, “And Mandi?” “YES?” “Try not to bankrupt either of them before breakfast.” Dino burst out laughing. Mandi gasped. “ROGUE!” “Good night.” Suzy was laughing as the elevator doors closed. The last glimpse of Mandi was a raised hand and a brilliant smile. Then the doors shut. Rogue looked at Suzy. “Think she'll survive?” “Darling, I'm more worried about the men.” Rogue grinned. “Fair.” --- Sera and Nadia sat together near the windows, watching the last guests enjoy the remains of Rogue's extraordinary evening. Nadia leaned against Sera. "You know what I love about our friends?" Sera smiled. "Which of the approximately seven hundred things?" Nadia laughed. "That they never stop surprising me." "Ah." "I've known them long enough to recognize the warning signs. Mandi gets that particular expression, Dalia looks suspiciously innocent, and suddenly somebody's making a decision they'll spend the next week laughing about." Sera's laughter came immediately. "That's remarkably accurate." "And tonight we got Wakako and Panam." Sera's expression softened. "Yes." Nadia shook her head, smiling. "I never saw that coming." "Neither did I." "And they looked so happy together." Sera nodded. "They did." Nadia slipped her fingers between Sera's. "That's what I love. We know one another so well, and there's still room for something completely unexpected." Sera leaned closer and kissed her. "Always." Nadia returned the kiss, lingering a moment before drawing back. "Now." Sera raised an eyebrow. "Now?" "Would you like to come home with me?" Sera smiled. "To the studio?" "Unless you've developed a sudden passion for sleeping in Rogue's reception hall." Sera burst out laughing. "An intriguing artistic statement." "Don't you dare." "Oh?" "Naked artists asleep beneath the remains of a corporate party. I can already hear the critics." Sera's silver-white hair began to rise. Nadia pointed at it. "Absolutely not. I'm taking you home." Sera laughed and drew her close. "Gladly." --- Dalia found them preparing to leave. “You two?” Nadia smiled. “Guilty.” Sera stood and embraced Dalia. “We're going to Nadia's.” Dalia nodded. “Good.” Then she regarded Sera. “Happy?” Sera smiled. “Very.” Dalia's expression softened. “Good.” She kissed her affectionately. Nadia waited until they separated, then stepped closer. “Wonderful evening, wasn't it?” Dalia laughed. “Extraordinary.” “Any regrets?” Dalia considered. “Only that Mandi discovered Wakako likes shoes.” Nadia burst out laughing. “Oh, that!” Sera's hair rose slightly. Dalia pointed. “And you.” Sera blinked. “What?” “Don't you dare help her.” “Help whom?” “Mandi.” “With what?” “Whatever ridiculous idea she's going to have next.” Nadia looked positively delighted. Sera tried to appear innocent. It didn't work. Dalia sighed. “Jesus Christ.” Nadia smiled. “Good night, Dalia.” “Good night, sweetheart.” Then Dalia looked at Sera again. “Message when you're settled.” Sera nodded. “Of course.” They embraced once more. And the two artists left together, laughing about something neither seemed inclined to explain. When Dalia finally found herself alone near the windows, she discovered that she didn't particularly mind. It had been a wonderful evening. Regina had been wonderful. And, surprisingly, Dalia found herself thinking about the woman she'd met rather than the party she'd attended. She checked her messages. One new arrival. **Regina**: Still awake? Dalia smiled. She answered. **Dalia**: Very much. The reply arrived almost immediately. **Regina**: I know we agreed on dinner. But I've been thinking about tonight. Dalia leaned against the window. **Dalia**: So have I. A pause. Then— **Regina**: Would you like to come over? Dalia read the message twice. Not because she didn't understand it. Because she liked it. The invitation wasn't a demand. There was no pretense of business. No need for either woman to invent an excuse. Dalia smiled. **Dalia**: I'd love to. Another message followed. **Regina**: Dinner is still happening. Dalia laughed softly. **Dalia**: Darling, I'm counting on it. She tucked her device away. Then went to find Rogue. The hostess was standing with Suzy near the bar. Dalia approached. “Rogue.” Rogue turned. “Dalia.” “Time for me to go.” Rogue glanced at her. “Everything all right?” “Spectacularly.” Suzy smiled. “Good.” Dalia looked around. The room was almost empty now. The music had softened to something intimate enough for a conversation. The staff were beginning their final quiet work. Dalia turned back. “Thank you.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “For?” “The evening.” Rogue nodded. “Glad you enjoyed it.” “Oh, I did.” Dalia leaned closer. “And I think a great many people are going to remember it for quite some time.” Rogue's mouth twitched. “That's the idea.” Suzy laughed. Dalia embraced her first. Then Rogue. Rogue returned the hug without hesitation. “Get home safe,” she said. Dalia smiled. “That's the plan.” She paused. Then looked toward Suzy. “Although…” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “I may be taking a slight detour.” Suzy's smile widened. “Oh?” Dalia grinned. “Good night, ladies.” Rogue watched her depart. Then looked at Suzy. “Regina?” Suzy burst out laughing. “You really do notice everything.” Rogue smiled. “Occupational hazard.” The elevators closed behind Dalia. --- And at last the reception floor belonged to Rogue, Suzy, and the remaining staff. Rogue stood still for a moment. Then looked around. The abandoned glasses. The chairs pushed slightly out of place. A forgotten decorative napkin that had somehow ended up beneath a table. The faint trace of perfume in the air. Evidence of a successful party. Not a perfectly preserved showpiece. A room people had actually enjoyed inhabiting. Suzy joined her. “Well.” Rogue looked at her. “Well?” “Everybody's gone.” “Apparently.” Suzy glanced toward the windows. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “More than I expected.” Suzy stepped closer. “I thought so.” Rogue took her hand. “Come on.” “Where?” Rogue nodded toward the windows. “Want to see something?” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Darling, after everything that's happened tonight, that's a dangerous question.” Rogue laughed. “Just come here.” They crossed the room together. The city spread beneath them in enormous bands of light. Rogue stood beside Suzy, her arm around her waist. For a while they said nothing. Then Suzy leaned against her. “You know, I think Sebastian was right.” Rogue sighed. “Don't start.” “He was.” “About?” “People.” Rogue looked across the empty room. Then back toward the city. “Yeah.” Suzy smiled. “That's all?” “What do you want? A speech?” “Not particularly.” “Good.” A comfortable silence followed. Then Rogue turned toward her. “Actually…” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “There's something I haven't done tonight.” Suzy looked amused. “Really?” “Yeah.” “What?” Rogue smiled. “Spent nearly enough time alone with you.” Suzy's expression softened. “Oh.” Rogue touched her cheek. “Been too busy throwing a fucking party.” Suzy laughed quietly. “You have.” “Terrible manners.” “Appalling.” Rogue drew her closer. “Think you can forgive me?” Suzy looked into her eyes. Then smiled. “That depends.” “On?” “What you're offering.” Rogue kissed her. Suzy answered immediately, drawing her closer. When they finally separated, Rogue rested her forehead against hers. “How's that for a start?” Suzy laughed softly. “Promising.” “Only promising?” “I have high standards.” Rogue grinned. “Good.” They stayed by the windows until the staff coordinator approached discreetly. Rogue turned. “Everything clear?” “Yes.” “Good. Finish up. I'll handle the final walkthrough.” The coordinator nodded and withdrew. Suzy watched with amusement. “Still working?” “Last thing.” “Of course.” Rogue glanced at her. “You complaining?” “Not at all.” They walked through the room together. Rogue checked the final arrangements. The private rooms had been cleared. Nothing belonging to the guests remained unaccounted for. The building's staff had their closing instructions. And the security team had reported no incidents worth mentioning. Rogue stopped. Looked around once more. Then smiled. “Done.” Suzy raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Really.” “Miracles do happen.” Rogue laughed. Then took her hand. “Let's get out of here.” The elevator ride was quiet. Not awkward. Not exhausted. Just the comfortable silence of two women who no longer needed the rest of the city to entertain them. Suzy stood close beside Rogue. Then she glanced up. “Darling.” “Yes?” “Can I ask you something?” Rogue smiled. “Apparently.” “Are you going to throw another party?” Rogue considered. “No idea.” Suzy looked surprised. “Really?” “Really.” “And the challenge?” Rogue grinned. “That's their problem now.” Suzy burst out laughing. “Oh, I love you.” Rogue turned. The amusement remained in her eyes, but her expression softened. “Good.” Suzy smiled. “Good?” Rogue drew her closer. “Because I'd hate to have to convince you.” Suzy laughed. “Oh, darling.” She kissed her. And Rogue, who had spent the entire evening being watched by some of Night City's most perceptive people, discovered how pleasant it was to have absolutely no audience. When they reached the waiting transport, Rogue opened the door for Suzy. Suzy paused. Looked at her. Then smiled. “How gallant.” Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Don't get used to it.” “Too late.” Rogue laughed. They settled inside. The vehicle pulled away from the tower. Suzy leaned comfortably against her. For a moment Rogue watched the city passing beyond the windows. Then she looked at the woman beside her. “Suzy.” “Hmm?” “Thank you.” Suzy opened her eyes. “For what?” Rogue considered. Then smiled. “For being here.” Suzy regarded her for a long moment. Then touched her cheek. “Always happy to be invited, darling.” Rogue kissed her. And this time there were no more guests to entertain, no more arrangements to supervise, and no more interruptions waiting at the edge of her attention. Just the two of them. Going home together. Far behind them, the lights on the rented reception floor dimmed. The last staff members completed their work. The doors closed. And Night City absorbed the scattered guests back into its endless private life. Some were heading toward familiar homes. Some toward entirely new experiences. Others were discovering that an invitation accepted at the right moment could change the direction of an evening. There would be conversations tomorrow. Messages. Teasing. Perhaps some spectacularly unwise jokes. Certainly at least one argument about shoes. But those belonged to another day. Tonight had been Rogue's. And she had given her guests something none of them could buy from her professional services. An evening in which they had been free to enjoy being wanted rather than needed. The Fixers' Night was over. What it had started was another matter entirely. --- ## Chapter 33 — No Survivors at Breakfast Brenda Boom had been awake for forty-three minutes when she decided that Sunday was going to be a very good day. She had coffee. She had her wife. And somewhere out in Night City, several of her closest friends were presumably discovering whether their decisions from the previous evening had been quite as brilliant as they had seemed at the time. She intended to find out. Iris, who knew that expression far too well, lowered her coffee cup. “No.” Brenda looked offended. “I haven't said anything.” “That's why I'm worried.” “I'm sitting here peacefully enjoying breakfast.” “You're sitting there smiling like someone left a detonator unattended.” “Darling, you wound me.” “Not nearly as often as I'd like.” Brenda blinked. Then grinned. “Fuck. I love being married to you.” Iris laughed and leaned across the table to kiss her. Their own return from Rogue's party had been uneventful, at least by Night City standards. They'd come home together, still Nova and Vega Marlow, passed through the lower security door, and waited for the upper door to be opened from inside. Only once they were safely home had they dismantled the covers. The face meshes and associated equipment were put away. Their familiar faces had returned. Their voices were another matter. The temporary voice-sculpts didn't simply vanish when the rest of a cover came off. Their active periods had been planned in advance, and the subsequent return to baseline took time. Which meant that Iris currently looked like Iris Rourke but sounded rather more like Nova Marlow. Brenda found this hilarious. Iris found Brenda's continued fascination with the subject considerably less hilarious. “Say something,” Brenda suggested. “No.” “Just one sentence.” “No.” “Tell me you love me.” “I love you.” Brenda closed her eyes in delight. “Oh, that's fucking wonderful.” Iris threw a napkin at her. “You've been doing this since we woke up!” “And I'll be doing it until your voice comes back. Possibly longer. I might record you.” “You absolutely will not.” Brenda considered that. “Fair.” She took another sip of coffee. Then added, in Vega's still-active voice, “Although I could always record myself.” Iris stared at her. And burst out laughing. The first arrival announcement came shortly before eleven. DALIA — AUTHORIZED Brenda looked at the security display. Her smile widened. Iris saw it. “Oh, God.” “She's home.” “Brenda.” “Regina Jones's overnight guest has returned.” “Brenda.” “I'm going to be extremely welcoming.” “That's what I'm afraid of.” The upper doorbell rang. Iris checked the camera and went to open the armored door manually. Dalia stood in the stairwell. Neon-pink dreadlocks. Reflective emerald eyes. Tall boots. The unmistakable expression of a woman who had slept well and had absolutely no intention of apologizing for it. “Morning,” she said in that familiar rasp. Iris smiled. “Morning. Come in.” Dalia stepped across the threshold and kissed her cheek. Brenda appeared behind Iris. Stopped. Looked her up and down. “Oh, you magnificent bitch.” Dalia's smile broadened. “Good morning, Brenda.” “REGINA JONES.” “Apparently.” “Don't you fucking apparently me!” Dalia laughed. Iris stepped aside. “Coffee's ready.” “Wonderful.” Dalia headed toward the residential hallway. Brenda called after her. “YOU'RE NOT ESCAPING THE INTERROGATION!” Without turning, Dalia raised one hand. “Then prepare better questions.” Brenda stared. Then looked at Iris. “She's unbearable.” Iris nodded. “Completely.” Brenda grinned. “I adore her.” Mai returned to the kitchen after putting away Dalia's equipment. Her face was her own again. The pink dreadlocks and reflective contacts were gone, along with the rest of the cover's visual presentation. Her voice, however, remained unmistakably Dalia's. Brenda looked up. Froze. Then slowly placed both hands flat on the table. “Oh.” Mai paused. “What?” Brenda's eyes widened. “Oh, this is excellent.” Mai glanced at Iris. Iris shook her head. “Don't encourage her.” Brenda leaned forward. “Say my name.” Mai sighed. “Brenda.” Brenda dissolved into laughter. “OH, FUCK!” Mai poured herself coffee. “You are enjoying this far too much.” “YOU LOOK LIKE MAI AND SOUND LIKE DALIA!” “Yes, Brenda. I am familiar with the technology.” Iris covered her mouth. Brenda slapped the table. “AND YOU'RE STILL DOING THE MAI VOICE OF REASON WITH DALIA'S VOICE!” Mai sat down. “Would you prefer I started shouting?” “YES!” “No.” Brenda laughed harder. Mai took a sip of coffee. “Have you finished?” “Not remotely.” “Then I suppose we'll have to continue without waiting.” Brenda leaned across the table. “Regina.” Mai smiled into her cup. “Regina.” “Good night?” “Very.” “Very?” “Extremely.” Brenda made a delighted noise. Iris laughed. Mai looked between them. “You do realize that I am perfectly capable of keeping some details to myself?” Brenda grinned. “Of course.” “Good.” “I'm just checking whether you intend to exercise that ability.” Mai's smile turned wicked. “Frequently.” Brenda threw up her hands. “THE CRUELTY!” Mai laughed. Then, a little more quietly, she said, “She's wonderful company. We talked for hours.” Iris smiled. “I'm glad.” “So am I.” Brenda's expression softened. “Really?” Mai nodded. “Really.” There was a brief, comfortable silence. Then Mai added, “We're having dinner again.” Brenda's chair scraped backward. “AGAIN?” Mai laughed. “Sit down.” “YOU'VE GOT A SECOND DATE?” “Yes.” Brenda pointed at Iris. “WRITE THAT DOWN.” Iris was laughing too hard to answer. Kiro arrived before noon. More precisely, Deja arrived. Mai checked the upper-door camera and opened the door to find the gentle-faced woman with venom-green hair standing outside, carrying a bag and wearing a distinctly pleased expression. “Hello,” Deja said. Mai smiled. “Hello yourself.” Deja stepped inside. Mai kissed her. “Dakota?” Deja nodded. “Saskia?” Another nod. Mai's eyebrows rose. “Both?” Deja smiled. “Both.” Mai laughed. “Good for you.” Deja glanced toward the kitchen. “Who's here?” “Brenda and Iris.” Deja stopped. “Oh, fuck.” “Quite.” “Are they being terrible?” “Brenda is being Brenda.” Deja considered. Then sighed. “I'll change first.” “Wise decision.” When Kiro emerged in her own appearance, Brenda was waiting. She didn't bother with a greeting. “THE NAPKIN.” Kiro stopped. Looked at Mai. Mai looked serenely innocent. Kiro sighed. “Of course.” Brenda pointed at the empty chair. “SIT.” Kiro sat. Iris brought her coffee. “Thank you.” Brenda leaned forward. “Explain the napkin.” Kiro looked at her. “Dakota and I were discussing a technical problem.” “At Rogue's party.” “Yes.” “With Saskia present.” “Yes.” “And instead of doing what any sensible woman would do when two gorgeous people were paying attention to her, you started drawing diagrams.” Kiro considered. “It was a very interesting problem.” Brenda stared. Iris closed her eyes. Mai began laughing. Kiro smiled. “And Saskia was interested too.” Brenda slowly turned toward Iris. “Did you hear that?” “I did.” “ALL THREE OF THEM WERE DISCUSSING FUCKING DIAGRAMS.” Kiro raised one finger. “Not all evening.” Brenda went silent. Then looked back at her. “Oh?” Kiro took a sip of coffee. “Not even most of it.” Mai burst out laughing. Iris leaned against the counter. Brenda stared at Kiro. Then stood and applauded. “YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND.” Kiro bowed her head slightly. “Thank you.” “And the napkin?” “Dakota kept it.” Brenda collapsed back into her chair. “OF COURSE SHE FUCKING DID.” The next arrival was impossible to mistake. MANDI — AUTHORIZED Mai went to the upper door. She checked the camera, smiled, and opened it. Mandi stood in the stairwell, all screaming neon-orange hair, black contacts, expensive shoes, and irrepressible satisfaction. She carried a shopping bag. Mai looked at the bag. Then at her wife. “Mandi.” “DALLY!” Mandi threw herself into Mai's arms. Mai caught her, laughing. They kissed enthusiastically. For a moment neither seemed particularly interested in the rest of the world. Then Mai drew back. “Good night?” Mandi grinned. “Fucking amazing.” “Dino and Tomas?” “Fucking amazing.” Mai laughed. Mandi held up the bag. “AND LOOK!” Mai closed her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.” “SHOES!” “Of course.” “DINO BOUGHT THEM!” Mai opened one eye. “Just one pair?” Mandi looked offended. “Of course!” Mai glanced at the size of the bag. “Hmm.” Mandi kissed her again. “You missed me.” “I did.” “Lots.” “Lots.” Mandi smiled, suddenly softer. “Missed you too.” Mai brushed a strand of neon-orange hair away from her face. “Come on. Let's get you out of that cover.” Mandi glanced toward the kitchen. “Brenda?” Mai nodded. “Waiting.” Mandi grinned. “GOOD.” Ace emerged from the Triad bedroom in comfortable clothes. Her face, hair and eyes were her own again. Her voice was not. The voice-sculpt remained active, so when she entered the kitchen and announced, “WHERE'S MY COFFEE?” it came out in Mandi's unmistakable voice. Brenda froze. Slowly turned. Looked at Ace. Then at Mai. Then back at Ace. “Oh, this is the best fucking Sunday of my life.” Ace grinned. “WHY?” Brenda made a strangled noise. Iris started laughing. Mai shook her head. Kiro smiled into her cup. Brenda pointed at Ace. “YOU.” Ace looked down at herself. “What?” “YOU LOOK LIKE ACE.” “Yep.” “BUT YOU SOUND LIKE MANDI.” “Yep.” Brenda turned toward Mai. “AND YOU LOOK LIKE MAI.” Mai raised her cup. “An astute observation.” “BUT YOU SOUND LIKE DALIA.” “Yes.” Brenda stared at the two of them. Then laughed so hard she had to hold the table. “OH, YOU TWO ARE GOING TO KILL ME!” Ace glanced at Mai. Mai smiled. Ace leaned closer. “Should we?” Mai considered. Then, in Dalia's rasp, said, “I think she's suffered enough.” Brenda howled. Ace burst out laughing in Mandi's voice. Iris put her head on the table. Kiro quietly decided that coffee had never been this entertaining. Eventually Brenda recovered enough to notice the shopping bag. Her eyes narrowed. “What's that?” Ace looked at it. “Shoes.” “Shoes.” “Yep.” “Dino and Tomas took you shopping?” “Yep.” “After spending the night together?” “Yep.” Brenda leaned back. “Fucking hell.” Ace smiled proudly. “Dino has excellent taste.” Mai looked at the bag again. “How many pairs?” “One.” Brenda raised an eyebrow. Mai did too. Ace looked between them. “WHAT?” Mai smiled. “Nothing, sweetheart.” Brenda leaned forward. “Did Tomas help choose them?” Ace's expression softened. “He did.” “And?” Ace looked down at the bag. Then smiled. “He's sweet.” The kitchen grew quieter. Mai touched her hand. Ace looked at her. “They both are.” Mai smiled. “Good.” Ace squeezed her hand. Brenda watched them. Then nodded. “Good.” She let the moment breathe. For almost six seconds. Then she pointed at the bag. “NOW SHOW ME THE FUCKING SHOES.” Shammy arrived shortly afterward. She'd spent the night at Nadia's studio-home, and she entered the safehouse looking rested, happy, and suspiciously pleased with herself. Ace opened the upper door after checking the camera. Shammy smiled. “Hello, trouble.” Ace stepped forward and hugged her. Shammy kissed her. Then Mai appeared behind Ace, and Shammy reached for her too. The three of them stood together for a long, comfortable moment. No audience. No performance. Just home. Shammy brushed Ace's hair away from her face. “You still sound like Mandi.” Ace grinned. “YEP.” Shammy laughed. Then she turned to Mai. “And Dalia.” Mai smiled. “Apparently we're providing entertainment.” Shammy's white hair lifted slightly. “Oh, Brenda must be delighted.” From the kitchen came a shout. “SHAMMY! GET YOUR BEAUTIFUL ASS IN HERE!” Shammy closed her eyes. Ace laughed. Mai sighed. “See?” Brenda was waiting with the expression of a woman who had discovered an entirely new recreational sport. “SO.” Shammy sat down. “Hello, Brenda.” “NADIA.” Shammy smiled. “Yes?” “GOOD NIGHT?” “Wonderful.” “ART?” Shammy considered. “Some.” Brenda narrowed her eyes. “How much?” Shammy smiled. “Enough to justify calling it a studio.” Ace burst out laughing. Mai covered her mouth. Kiro looked delighted. Brenda stared. Then slapped the table. “YOU CHEEKY LITTLE BITCH!” Shammy's halo rose. Iris laughed. “She's getting worse.” Mai shook her head. “No. She's getting better.” Shammy's phone vibrated. She glanced at it. Then began laughing. Brenda pointed. “NADIA?” Shammy nodded. “WHAT?” Shammy read the message. “Has Brenda started interrogating everyone yet?” The kitchen erupted. Brenda threw up her hands. “OH, FUCK OFF!” Shammy typed a reply. A moment later another message arrived. She laughed again. Mai leaned closer. “What?” Shammy showed her. Nadia: Tell her she can interrogate me when she's brave enough. ❤️ Mai burst out laughing. Ace slapped the table. Brenda stood. “OH, SHE'S GETTING IT.” Shammy's halo expanded. Panam arrived after noon. She'd spent the night at Wakako's residence and came to the safehouse directly from there. Shammy answered the upper door. Panam smiled when she saw her. “Hey.” “Hey.” They embraced. Panam kissed her, and Shammy held her close. “Good night?” Shammy asked. Panam smiled. “Very.” Shammy touched her cheek. “I'm glad.” “And yours?” “Wonderful.” Panam grinned. “Good.” They kissed again. Then Panam heard Brenda shouting from the kitchen. “IS THAT PANAM?” Panam closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck.” Shammy laughed. “Sorry.” “You're not sorry.” “Not even slightly.” Panam entered the kitchen to a standing ovation from Brenda. “LADIES!” Panam stopped. “No.” “WE HAVE A VERY SPECIAL GUEST!” “Brenda.” “A WOMAN WHO HAS SPENT THE NIGHT—” “Brenda.” “—AT THE PRIVATE RESIDENCE—” “Don't.” “—OF WAKAKO FUCKING OKADA!” Ace burst out laughing in Mandi's voice. Mai nearly spilled her coffee. Kiro covered her mouth. Iris leaned against the counter. Shammy's halo rose. Panam looked around the room. Then smiled slowly. “Jealous?” Brenda stared. Then burst out laughing. “OH, YOU MAGNIFICENT BITCH!” Panam sat down. “Coffee.” Mai handed her a cup. “Already made.” Panam accepted it. “Thank you.” Brenda sat opposite her. “So.” Panam sighed. “Here we go.” “Wakako.” “Yes.” “THE Wakako.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Do you know another?” Ace howled. Brenda pointed at her. “DON'T YOU START!” For several minutes, Brenda tried every angle she could think of. Panam gave her very little. Not because she was embarrassed. Quite the opposite. She looked comfortable, happy, and entirely uninterested in surrendering anything Wakako might prefer to keep private. Eventually Iris leaned forward. “Did you have a good time?” Panam's expression softened. “Yes.” Iris smiled. “Good.” Panam looked down at her coffee. Then laughed quietly. “What?” Shammy asked. Panam shook her head. “She's funny.” Ace raised an eyebrow. “Wakako?” “Very.” Brenda leaned forward. “OH, I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THAT.” Panam grinned. “No, you don't.” “YES, I FUCKING DO.” “Some things are private, Brenda.” Brenda considered. Then nodded. “Fair.” A pause. Then— “BUT I CAN STILL IMAGINE.” Panam burst out laughing. The conversation drifted through the rest of the party. Rogue's spectacular venue. The food. The music. The fixers. The extraordinary spectacle of people who normally controlled entire networks of influence deciding, for one evening, to behave like people enjoying themselves. Kiro told Panam about Dakota and Saskia. Ace described Dino's taste in shoes. Mai spoke warmly about Regina. Shammy shared a few stories from the evening with Nadia. Then Panam looked around. “Where's Birgitta?” Mai answered naturally. “She left with Daichi.” Panam smiled. “Wakako's nephew?” “Yes.” “Good for her.” Shammy smiled into her coffee. That was all. Birgitta had left the party with Daichi. Whatever the two of them were doing this morning was their business. Nobody at the safehouse needed to summon her, speculate about her whereabouts, or reveal anything about the woman behind the cover. Panam reached for another piece of toast. “Wakako seemed rather pleased about that.” Ace grinned. “I BET.” Mai gave her a look. Ace grinned wider. “What?” “Nothing.” “DALLY!” Brenda lost it. “OH, FUCK, YOU TWO ARE STILL DOING THAT!” Mai closed her eyes. Ace laughed. Panam stared at them. Then shook her head. “I'm surrounded by idiots.” Shammy kissed her cheek. “Beloved idiots.” Panam smiled. “Unfortunately.” Lunch became an improvised operation. Mai took charge of making sure there was actual food. Panam supported this decision enthusiastically. Ace argued that leftover desserts qualified. Kiro began explaining why a particular dish needed reheating carefully. Brenda informed her that this was not another opportunity to draw diagrams. Kiro replied that Brenda was welcome to eat cold food if she preferred. Iris laughed. Shammy helped set the table. For a while, the safehouse was filled with overlapping conversations, teasing, and the ordinary noise of people who knew each other well enough not to worry about every interruption. Then Brenda looked at Iris. Iris noticed immediately. “Oh, no.” Brenda smiled. “What?” “That expression.” “What expression?” “The one you've had all morning.” Brenda stepped closer. “Darling.” Iris sighed. “Brenda.” “We have a problem.” “We do?” “A serious one.” Iris raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.” Brenda leaned close enough to whisper. “We've spent the entire morning entertaining other people.” Iris smiled. “Have we?” “Yes.” “And?” “And I think we should spend some time entertaining each other.” Iris laughed softly. “You are impossible.” Brenda kissed her. “And yet.” “And yet,” Iris agreed. They kissed again. Then Iris took Brenda's hand. “Come on.” Brenda's grin widened. “Really?” “Really.” They started toward the residential hallway. Almost unnoticed. Almost. Ace looked up. “HEY, BRENDA!” Brenda stopped. Closed her eyes. Turned. “WHAT?” Ace grinned. “DON'T FORGET LUNCH!” Brenda pointed at her. “FUCK OFF!” Mai burst out laughing. Panam shook her head. Kiro covered her mouth. Shammy's halo rose. Iris laughed and tugged Brenda gently toward their bedroom. “We'll be back.” Brenda glanced at her wife. Then at the others. “NOT TOO FUCKING SOON, WE WON'T.” They disappeared down the hallway. A door closed. For a moment the kitchen was quiet. Then Ace looked around. “Think they'll be long?” Mai raised an eyebrow. “Ace.” “What?” Panam laughed. Kiro shook her head. Shammy smiled. Ace considered. Then grinned. “FINE. MORE DESSERT FOR US.” Panam pointed at her. “Eat something proper first.” Ace sighed. “YES, OWNER.” Panam stared. Then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck off.” A little later, Mai found herself standing at the kitchen counter with Ace pressed affectionately against her side. Shammy was sitting nearby, listening to Panam describe a conversation she'd had with Wakako. Kiro was answering a message from Dakota. The safehouse was warm, noisy, and comfortably untidy. Ace tilted her head toward Mai. “Good night?” Mai smiled. “Very.” Ace kissed her cheek. “Good.” Mai looked down at her. “And yours?” Ace's grin returned. “VERY.” Mai laughed. Then Shammy appeared beside them. “Are you two comparing notes?” Ace nodded. “YEP.” Shammy smiled. “Without me?” Mai put an arm around her. “Never.” Shammy slipped between them. The three of them stood together for a moment, comfortable in their familiar arrangement. Then Ace looked up at Shammy. “YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUNNY?” Shammy raised an eyebrow. “What?” “WE'RE GOING TO SOUND LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE.” Mai sighed. “Yes.” Shammy's halo lifted. Ace grinned. “BRenda'S NEVER GOING TO SHUT UP ABOUT IT.” From down the hallway came a muffled shout. “YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT I WON'T!” The kitchen erupted. Mai leaned against the counter, laughing. Shammy's hair rose into a brilliant white halo. Ace nearly doubled over. Panam shook her head. Kiro laughed into her coffee. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Iris's unmistakable laughter joined Brenda's from behind their bedroom door. Eventually, the noise settled. Lunch was eaten. Coffee was refilled. Nobody felt any particular hurry to leave. Panam leaned back in her chair. “Rogue really outdid herself.” Mai nodded. “She did.” Kiro smiled. “One hell of a party.” Ace grinned. “BEST SHOES I'VE EVER GOTTEN FROM ONE.” Mai looked at her. “Sweetheart.” “What?” “We know.” Ace laughed. Shammy smiled. Then Panam raised her coffee cup. “To Rogue.” Mai lifted hers. “To Rogue.” Kiro joined them. Shammy too. Ace raised her cup. “TO THE NEXT ONE.” They drank. For a moment, everything was peaceful. Then Brenda's voice rang out from the hallway. “AND WHEN THOSE FUCKING VOICE-SCULPTS FINALLY WEAR OFF, I'M GOING TO MISS THEM!” Mai closed her eyes. Ace burst out laughing. Shammy's halo rose again. Panam grinned. Kiro shook her head. And Iris, somewhere behind Brenda, said in Nova's still-unfamiliar voice: “Darling, for the love of God, leave them alone.” Brenda's delighted laughter filled the safehouse. Nobody believed she would. Not for a second. --- ### Epilogue — Old Roads, New Plans By the time Panam reached her city apartment, Night City was slipping into evening. She kicked off her boots, dropped her jacket over a chair, and headed straight for the sofa. Rogue's party. A night with Wakako. An afternoon at the Watson safehouse, where Brenda had apparently appointed herself chief interrogator of everyone's private life. One hell of a weekend. Panam stretched, smiled to herself, and reached for her phone. There was someone she wanted to hear from. Birgitta answered on the fourth ring. “Well, look what the city dragged home.” Panam laughed. “Hello to you too, beautiful.” “Survived the weekend?” “Barely. Brenda nearly finished me off at lunch.” “Oh, God. What did you tell her?” “As little as possible.” “Smart woman.” “Learned from the best.” Birgitta chuckled. “Flattery? From you? Are you ill?” “Fuck off.” “There she is.” Panam settled deeper into the sofa. “How's my favorite road companion?” “Comfortable, well fed, and enjoying the luxury of not having to look at another stretch of asphalt.” “Bullshit. You loved that trip.” “I loved the company. The roads were occasionally questionable.” “Occasionally?” “Panam, you took one corner so fast I nearly ended up in your lap.” “You're exaggerating.” “Am I?” “You were already leaning toward me.” Birgitta burst out laughing. “You impossible woman.” “You missed me.” “Terribly.” “Thought so.” The laughter faded into a comfortable silence. A week on the road together had left them with plenty of those: the easy pauses of two women who no longer needed to fill every moment with words. “So,” Panam said. “Daichi.” Birgitta sighed theatrically. “I wondered how long you'd last.” “Four whole minutes. Show some appreciation.” “Such restraint.” “I'm practically a saint.” “Panam, darling, I've spent a week travelling with you. You can't possibly expect me to believe that.” Panam laughed. “Fair. Now tell me about your evening.” Birgitta's voice softened. “It was wonderful.” “Yeah?” “Yes. He's a lovely man.” “Good.” “Attentive. Funny. Considerate.” “And handsome.” “Panam.” “What? I've got eyes.” “So have I, thank you.” Panam grinned. “Did you have fun?” “Very much.” “That's what I wanted to hear.” Birgitta was quiet for a moment. Then she laughed softly. “You know, he actually managed to surprise me.” “Oh?” “He's considerably less reserved in private than he appears in public.” Panam barked a laugh. “Now that's interesting.” “Don't sound so delighted.” “Too late.” “I'm not giving you the details.” “Didn't ask for any.” “Yet.” Panam laughed again. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I'm glad you had a good night.” “So am I, darling. So am I.” “And Wakako?” Birgitta asked. Panam smiled at the ceiling. “What about her?” “Oh, don't you start.” “Start what?” “That innocent little act. I know you far too well.” “Yeah, you do.” “So?” Panam took a moment before answering. “She was wonderful.” Birgitta made an appreciative sound. “I suspected as much.” “Smart. Funny. Sharp as a fucking knife.” “Sounds like your sort of woman.” “She is.” The answer came easily enough to make Birgitta smile. “I'm happy for you.” “Thanks.” “Really, Panam.” “I know.” A brief silence followed. Then Panam added, “And she can be surprisingly gentle.” Birgitta's voice warmed. “Ah.” “Don't.” “I haven't said anything.” “You made a noise.” “Am I no longer allowed to make noises?” “Not that one.” Birgitta laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. You're in trouble.” Panam grinned. “Probably.” “Enjoy it.” “Planning to.” They drifted into talking about the party itself. Rogue's spectacular arrangements. The music. The food. The astonishing collection of people who'd managed to spend an entire evening enjoying themselves instead of conducting business. Eventually Birgitta said, “I think Rogue enjoyed watching everyone relax almost as much as she enjoyed the party.” “Absolutely. That woman was having the time of her life.” “And she deserved it.” “Yeah,” Panam agreed. “She did.” Panam glanced toward the darkening window. “Actually, I have a feeling Wakako might be planning something herself.” “Oh?” “Nothing official. Just a few things she said.” “Such as?” “Well, Halloween's coming up.” Birgitta laughed. “Oh, dear.” “Exactly.” “Wakako Okada arranging a Halloween party?” “Can you imagine?” “Unfortunately, yes.” Panam grinned. “Something tells me it wouldn't involve cheap plastic skeletons and a bowl of candy.” “I should certainly hope not.” “I'm guessing something elegant. Probably a little wicked.” “A little?” “Fine. A lot.” They laughed. Then Birgitta said, “Well, if that's when she's planning it, I probably won't be there.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I expect to be elsewhere for Halloween.” “Already got plans?” “More or less.” “Anything fun?” Birgitta's smile was audible. “I certainly hope so.” Panam chuckled. “Good for you.” “Besides, Wakako hasn't invited anyone yet.” “True. I'm only guessing.” “Then we'll see what happens.” “Yeah. Though it'd be nice to have you there.” “That's sweet of you.” “Don't sound so surprised.” “Oh, I'm not surprised, darling. Merely appreciating the sentiment.” Panam laughed. “Smartass.” “You've called me worse.” “And meant every word.” “I know. That's why I like you.” The conversation wandered on. They remembered a particularly ridiculous argument from their week on the road, one that had begun over directions and ended with both of them laughing so hard they'd had to stop for a while. “You were wrong,” Birgitta insisted. “I was not.” “Panam.” “Birgitta.” “You took us twelve kilometers in the wrong direction.” “Scenic route.” “It was an industrial access road.” “Very scenic industrial access road.” “There was a dead vending machine and a pile of tires.” “Local character.” Birgitta dissolved into laughter. “God, I've missed this.” Panam's smile softened. “Yeah. Me too.” For a moment they simply enjoyed hearing each other laugh. Then Birgitta said, “We should get out of the city again sometime.” “Absolutely.” “Somewhere with fewer fixers.” “Good luck finding that.” “And fewer parties.” “Now you're asking for miracles.” “Just a quiet road, good company, and somewhere decent to eat.” Panam considered. “I could arrange that.” “I know you could.” “And this time I'll even let you navigate.” Birgitta laughed. “How generous.” “Don't get used to it.” Eventually the conversation began winding down. “I'm glad you called,” Birgitta said. “Wanted to hear how you were doing.” “And now you know.” “Yeah.” A pause. Then Panam added, “I'm glad Daichi treated you well.” Birgitta's answer was warm. “He did. And I'm glad Wakako made you happy.” Panam smiled. “She did.” “Then I'd say we both had an excellent weekend.” “Fuck yeah.” Birgitta laughed. “Never change, Panam.” “Wasn't planning to.” “Good.” “Take care, beautiful.” “You too, darling. And give Shammy my love when you see her.” “Will do.” “Good night.” “Night, Birgitta.” The connection ended. Panam remained on the sofa for a while, smiling. A week on the road could teach you a great deal about someone. Sometimes more than months of polite dinners and carefully arranged meetings. She and Birgitta had shared long drives, bad jokes, unexpected detours, and the kind of conversations that only happened when there was nothing ahead but open road. It was good to know that hadn't changed. Panam picked up her phone again. This time she sent Wakako a message. Panam: Home safe. Thank you for last night. ❤️ A little later, the reply arrived. Wakako: You are most welcome, Panam. I enjoyed your company immensely. Panam smiled. Then another message appeared. Wakako: And do keep Halloween in mind. I may have something interesting planned. Panam laughed softly. “Called it.” She set the phone aside and leaned back. Halloween. Wakako Okada. Whatever the woman had in mind, it was unlikely to be boring. And if Birgitta really was elsewhere that evening, well, that was perfectly all right. There were always other roads to travel together.