![[Ace 181.5.png]] # CHAPTER 1 — TOO QUIET Ace knew something was wrong before she had coffee. This was, in itself, deeply unfair. Nothing in the safehouse sounded wrong. No alarms. No urgent footsteps in the corridor. No gunfire, which was always a pleasant start. No one was shouting her name from another room in the particular tone that meant she had approximately three seconds to become somebody else's problem. The safehouse was simply quiet. Morning quiet. The kind that belonged to people who had nowhere they urgently needed to be, operations that were not currently exploding, and a kitchen that contained coffee. Ace shuffled toward that last part with single-minded devotion. Shorts. T-shirt. Bare feet. Hair still carrying the unmistakable evidence that she'd slept on it rather than negotiated with it. She made it three steps into the kitchen before stopping. Shammy was already there. That wasn't unusual. Shammy sitting at the table with a mug between both hands wasn't unusual either. The problem was the way she was looking at absolutely nothing. Ace narrowed her eyes. Shammy didn't notice. That made it worse. Ace continued toward the coffee machine. She put a mug beneath it. Pressed the button. Waited. Looked at Shammy again. Still thinking. Ace looked away. The machine began pouring. This was none of her business. She had not yet consumed caffeine. There were rules. She picked up the mug, took the first careful sip, and closed her eyes for a second. Better. Not good. Better. She opened them. Shammy was still thinking. Ace took another sip. No. She wasn't doing this. Whatever enormous, complicated thought had occupied Shammy's brain before breakfast could remain there until breakfast had officially happened. Ace leaned against the counter. Drank again. Watched Shammy over the rim of the mug. Shammy's silver-white hair shifted faintly near one temple, a few strands lifting without any breeze in the room. Ace sighed. "Okay." Shammy blinked and looked at her. "What?" "You're thinking." A tiny smile appeared. "I do that sometimes." "Not like that." Shammy looked down at her mug. Ace waited. Nothing. Ace took another drink. Still nothing. She glanced toward the doorway as if Mai might appear and save her. Mai did not. Traitor. Ace looked back at Shammy. "Is something wrong?" "No." "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Did something happen?" "No." "Did somebody call?" "No." "Did you break something?" That got a slightly bigger smile. "No." Ace considered her. "Did I break something?" "I don't think so." "Good." Ace drank again. There. Problem solved. She remained exactly where she was. Shammy remained exactly where she was. Five seconds passed. Ten. Ace's eyes narrowed again. "You're still doing it." "Doing what?" "Thinking loudly." Shammy laughed softly. Ace pointed at her with the mug. "That. That's suspicious too." "I was just thinking about something." "I established that several minutes ago." "It hasn't been several minutes." "It has emotionally." That earned her another laugh. Ace finally pushed away from the counter and crossed the kitchen, climbing onto the chair opposite Shammy. She tucked one leg beneath herself and held the coffee close. "Fine." Shammy looked at her. Ace made a small circling motion with one hand. "Out with it." Shammy's expression became thoughtful again. Ace immediately regretted the invitation. "I've been thinking about Jig-Jig." Ace froze with the mug halfway to her mouth. There was a brief silence. "We've been there." "I know." "You were with us." "I know." "We went to see Wakako." "I know." Ace lowered the mug. Shammy looked at her calmly. Ace stared back. Then the distinction finally landed. "Oh." Shammy nodded. "We went through Jig-Jig to see Wakako." "Yes." "We didn't go to Jig-Jig." Ace took a slow drink. The coffee was no longer helping. From somewhere behind her came the quiet sound of footsteps. Mai entered the kitchen, took one look at Ace's face, then at Shammy's, and changed course toward the coffee machine without saying a word. Ace watched her. Mai poured herself a cup. "Don't." Mai turned around. "I didn't say anything." "You were about to." "I was going to ask why you look like your coffee just threatened you." Shammy smiled into her mug. Ace pointed at her. "Her." Mai looked at Shammy. "What did she do?" "She's thinking." Mai stared at Ace. "Terrifying." "See? This is why I didn't want you involved." Mai took a sip and leaned against the counter. "What are we thinking about?" Shammy answered before Ace could. "Jig-Jig." Mai stopped drinking. Her eyes moved to Ace. Ace gave her a tiny, grim nod. Yes. That. Mai looked back at Shammy. "You've been there." "That's what I said." Shammy sighed with immense patience. "We were going to see Wakako." Mai's expression changed. Not much. Just enough. "Oh." "Exactly," Ace muttered. Shammy looked between them. For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Then Shammy put her mug down. "I want to go with you." Ace stared at her. Mai remained suspiciously composed. Ace knew that expression too. "To Jig-Jig." "Yes." "With us." "Yes." Ace glanced at Mai. Mai's mouth twitched. Absolutely no help there. Ace turned back. "To watch?" Shammy considered the question. That was the moment Ace should have stood up. She should have taken her coffee. She should have walked out of the kitchen. She should have gone back to bed, pulled the blanket over her head, and allowed Mai to deal with whatever was about to happen. Instead, she stayed. Shammy's electric-blue eyes brightened just slightly. "Let's start with that." Silence. Ace slowly closed her eyes. Beside the counter, Mai lowered her coffee. "Start?" Shammy looked at her. "That's what I said." Ace opened her eyes again. Mai was smiling now. Shammy was trying not to. Ace looked down into her mug. Five minutes ago, this had been a perfectly good morning. She took a long drink. "I need more coffee." --- # CHAPTER 2 — WHY JIG-JIG? Ace did, in fact, get more coffee. She considered this an important tactical decision. By the time she returned to the table, Mai had taken the chair beside Shammy, which Ace regarded as evidence that alliances were already forming against her. She stopped. Looked at them. Mai raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Nothing." "That sounded like something." Ace climbed back into her chair. "I'm evaluating the battlefield." Shammy glanced around the kitchen. "We're having coffee." "That's how it starts." Mai hid a smile behind her mug. Ace saw it. She decided not to pursue the matter because there was a significantly larger problem sitting across from her. Shammy. Thinking. About Jig-Jig. Ace wrapped both hands around her fresh mug. "Okay." Shammy waited. Ace looked at Mai. Mai waited too. Apparently Ace was chairing this meeting. Wonderful. "Why?" Shammy tilted her head. "Why what?" "You know exactly what." "I want to hear you say it." Ace stared at her. Mai made a small sound into her coffee. Ace turned. "Don't encourage her." "I haven't done anything." "You exist encouragingly." "That sounds difficult for you." "It is." Shammy laughed. Ace sighed and looked back at her. "Why do you want to go to Jig-Jig?" The laughter faded, but the warmth remained. Shammy looked down at her hands around the mug for a moment. "Because you do." Ace blinked. Mai's expression softened slightly. Shammy continued before either of them could answer. "You didn't have to go back." Ace opened her mouth. Closed it. Fair. "You tried Mandi," Shammy said. "It could have ended there." Ace's fingers shifted around the mug. "It didn't." "No." Shammy looked at Mai. "And then Dalia." Mai nodded once. "Also could have ended there." "It didn't." "No." Shammy leaned back slightly. "And every time either of you comes home, you talk about the people. The conversations. The ridiculous offers. The things people say when they're nervous." Ace's mouth twitched. "There have been some good ones." "I know. I've heard them." "Most of them." Shammy's eyebrows rose. Ace took a drink. "Some things are private." "Of course." Mai looked at Ace. "Which ones haven't you told us?" Ace nearly inhaled coffee. "That is not the subject." "It could be." "No." Shammy was smiling again. Ace pointed at Mai. "See what you've done?" "I asked one question." "You destabilized the meeting." "We're still having coffee." "Technically." Shammy reached across the table and lightly touched Ace's wrist. Ace stopped. The joke settled naturally rather than vanishing. Shammy's voice was quieter when she continued. "You enjoy it." Ace looked at her. There wasn't accusation in the words. No challenge. No demand for explanation. Just observation. Ace glanced at Mai. Mai met her eyes. "Yes," Ace said. Shammy nodded. Mai answered too. "So do I." "I know." Shammy's fingers remained against Ace's wrist. "That's why I'm curious." Ace studied her face. Not restless. Not jealous. Not trying to catch up with something Ace and Mai had done without her. Curious. Exactly what she'd said. Ace knew that feeling rather too well. Mai apparently reached the same conclusion. "Do you feel left out?" Shammy looked at her. "No." The answer came immediately. Mai waited anyway. Shammy considered it more carefully. "No," she repeated. "I don't." She looked between them. "You two do things without me." Ace nodded. "I do things without either of you. We all do." Mai's hand found Shammy's thigh beneath the edge of the table, resting there easily. Shammy covered it with her own. "This isn't about needing to have everything you've had." Ace relaxed a fraction. "What is it about?" Shammy thought. Ace groaned. "Oh, come on." "What?" "You already did the thinking part." "I'm trying to explain it." "Faster." Mai gave Ace a look. Ace lifted her mug defensively. "Caffeine doesn't make me patient. It makes me awake enough to notice I'm impatient." Shammy's hair shifted faintly again. Then she smiled. "I want to know what it feels like." Ace went still. There it was. Simple. Shammy continued. "Not walking past it. Not looking at it from the outside. Not hearing your stories afterward." She glanced at Mai. "I want to stand there with you and understand what you're seeing." Mai watched her carefully. "And if someone asks?" Shammy's eyes moved to her. "Asks what?" Ace snorted. Mai didn't even look at her. "If you're working." Shammy was silent. Ace drank her coffee. This time she didn't interrupt. Shammy's gaze drifted toward the window. A few silver-white strands rose slowly from her shoulder, hung there for a second, then settled again. "I don't know." Mai nodded. No disappointment. No encouragement. Just acceptance. "Good answer." Shammy looked back at her. "You think so?" "I'd be more worried if you'd already decided." Ace nodded. "Same." Shammy looked amused. "You both decided." Ace's eyes widened. "Excuse me." "You did." "Mandi was an experiment." "Yes." "A controlled experiment." Mai looked into her coffee. Ace caught it. "What?" "Nothing." "That was absolutely something." Mai's shoulders moved once. Shammy started laughing. Ace looked between them. "It was controlled." Mai finally looked up. "You ended up with a waiting problem." "Later." "And raised your rate." "Later." "Repeatedly." Ace pointed at her. "You became Dalia." "Eventually." "And loved it." Mai took another sip. "Yes." Ace opened her mouth. Paused. "Okay, that's not helping my argument." "No." Shammy was openly laughing now. Ace waited for her to settle. Then she leaned forward. "But that's the point." Shammy's smile faded into attention. "I didn't know where Mandi was going when I started." Ace tapped one finger lightly against the table. "Mai didn't know what Dalia would feel like until she did it." Mai nodded. "So don't decide what Sera is going to do before Sera gets there." Shammy looked at her. Something subtle changed in her expression. Not surprise. Recognition. "That's what I want." Ace nodded. "Then that's what we do." Mai's hand squeezed Shammy's thigh once. "We go." Shammy looked between them. "We?" Ace frowned. "You thought we'd send you alone?" "No." "Good." "I just wanted to hear you say it." Ace stared at her. "There is something deeply wrong with you this morning." Shammy smiled. "You love me." "Unfortunately." Mai reached across and caught the back of Ace's neck, pulling her close enough to kiss her temple. "Very unfortunately." Ace leaned into it automatically. "Both of you are terrible." Shammy reached across the table again. Ace took her hand. For a little while, the kitchen became quiet. Not the suspicious quiet from earlier. Just home. Three women drinking coffee, hands touching across a table, discussing something that would have sounded completely insane almost anywhere else. Eventually Mai broke the silence. "One practical question." Ace immediately looked suspicious. Shammy looked interested. Mai turned toward her. "If somebody asks whether you're working..." Shammy waited. "...what are you going to say?" Another pause. Ace watched the answer form. Shammy's electric-blue eyes brightened almost imperceptibly. "Maybe." Ace closed her eyes. Mai laughed. "Oh, that's going to go well." Ace opened one eye. "We can still stay home." "No," Shammy said. "Thought I'd try." Mai stood and collected her mug. "We should talk to Suzie first." Ace groaned. Shammy looked at her. "What now?" Ace finished the last of her coffee. "Suzie knows who you are." "Yes." "Not just who _we_ know you are." Shammy nodded slowly. "The artist." "The very recognizable artist." Mai stopped beside the counter. "The very recognizable, very expensive artist." Shammy considered that. Ace watched her. There it was again. That tiny shift. That spark. Curiosity finding something new to investigate. Ace pointed at her immediately. "No." Shammy blinked. "I didn't say anything." "You did the face." "What face?" "The interesting face." Mai turned away. Her shoulders were shaking. Ace glared at her. "Stop laughing. You're going to be standing next to me when this goes wrong." Mai recovered enough to answer. "I know." That was somehow worse. Shammy picked up her mug and took another calm sip. Ace looked from one lover to the other. She had started the morning wanting coffee. That was all. Coffee. Now they were apparently taking one of Night City's most recognizable avant-garde artists to Lizzie's to ask Suzie Q what would happen if she decided to stand on Jig-Jig Street and say maybe. Ace slid down slightly in her chair. "I should've stayed in bed." Shammy smiled. Mai walked past and kissed the top of Ace's head. "Too late." Ace sighed. Of course it was. --- # CHAPTER 3 — SERA Ace lasted almost four minutes before turning the morning into a planning session. She would later maintain that this was not her fault. There were practical considerations. Practical considerations required planning. Planning required coffee. Therefore, technically, she was still having breakfast. Mai disagreed. "You have the face." Ace looked up from the tablet she'd retrieved from the living room. "What face?" "The operational one." "I don't have an operational face." Shammy, still sitting at the kitchen table, looked at Mai. "She does." Ace pointed at her. "You don't get a vote." "Why?" "Conflict of interest." "What conflict?" "You're the operation." Shammy blinked. Then she looked at Mai. "Am I?" Mai took another drink. "Apparently." Ace ignored both of them and scrolled through absolutely nothing useful. "We need to think about this." "We are thinking about it," Shammy said. "No. You're being curious. That's different." "I can do both." "Historically, that's been dangerous." Mai sat down beside Shammy. "She's not wrong." Shammy looked mildly betrayed. Ace brightened. "Thank you." "You're also overthinking it." Ace's expression fell. "Traitor." Mai smiled. Ace put the tablet flat on the table. "Fine. Basic problem." Shammy waited. "You can't go as Shammy." "I know." "Obviously." "Obviously." "So." Ace tapped the screen. "We need—" "Sera." Ace stopped. There was silence. Mai took a slow sip of coffee. Ace looked at Shammy. Shammy looked back. "Sera," Ace repeated. "Yes." "You want to go to Jig-Jig as Sera." "Yes." "The Sera." Shammy's eyebrows lifted. "I'm not aware of another one." Mai lowered her mug. Ace ignored the warning. "The artist." "Yes." "The artist whose face people know." "Some people." "Rich people." "Some of them." "Collectors." "Yes." "Corpos." "Sometimes." "People who spend obscene amounts of money because you put paint on something." Shammy frowned slightly. "That's a very reductive description of my work." Mai made a choking sound. Ace turned toward her. "Don't." "I'm not doing anything." "You're laughing." "I'm trying not to." "Try harder." Shammy's silver-white hair lifted faintly around her shoulders. Ace turned back. "And you want to stand on Jig-Jig Street looking exactly like Sera." "Yes." "Why?" Shammy stared at her. Ace realized the stupidity of the question immediately. "No, wait. Not why Jig-Jig. We did that already." "Good." "Why Sera?" Shammy's expression softened. "Who else would I be?" Ace opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Shammy continued. "Mandi is you." Ace nodded. "Dalia is Mai." Another nod. "They look different. They sound different. But they're still you." Mai leaned one elbow against the table. "Yes." Shammy touched her own chest. "Sera is me." That stopped the comedy for a moment. Ace looked at her. There was nothing complicated in Shammy's expression. No performance. No uncertainty. Just fact. Sera wasn't a disguise Shammy wore because she needed to disappear. Sera was the part of her that stood beneath gallery lights while strangers tried to decide what her work meant. The woman who could wear something impossible and make everyone else feel underdressed. The woman who could answer an intrusive question with three words and leave the person asking it wondering for the rest of the evening whether they'd been insulted. Sera was public. Shammy was home. But there had never been a hard line where one stopped and the other began. Ace knew that. Of course she knew that. She reached across the table and touched Shammy's hand. "Okay." Shammy turned her palm beneath Ace's fingers and squeezed. "Okay?" "Sera." A smile. "Sera." Mai reached over and rested her hand over both of theirs. "That was easy." Ace looked at her. "No." Mai's smile widened. "No?" "That was the easy part." "Oh." Ace pulled her hand free and picked up the tablet again. "Now we get to the problems." "Plural?" Shammy asked. "Very plural." Ace held up one finger. "First, people know Sera." "We established that." "Yes, but I'm not sure you're appreciating what happens when people know Sera." Shammy tilted her head. "I've been Sera for quite a while." "At galleries." "And parties." "Fine." "Restaurants." "Fine." "Crystal Palace." Ace paused. "Fine." "Corporate events." "Yes." "Private events." "Yes." Shammy waited. Ace narrowed her eyes. "You're enjoying this." "A little." "A lot." "A little." Mai leaned back. "She's enjoying it a lot." "Thank you." "You're welcome." Ace sighed. "None of those are Jig-Jig." "No." "And none of those involve somebody walking up to you and asking if you're working." "No." "And if someone recognizes you—" Ace stopped. Mai's eyebrows rose. Shammy waited. Ace looked between them. Then something clicked. "Oh." Mai smiled. Ace put the tablet down very carefully. "Oh, fuck." Shammy's electric-blue eyes brightened. "What?" "You're expensive." Mai lost the battle and laughed. Shammy stared at Ace. Ace waved both hands. "Not like that." "That sounded exactly like that." "You know what I mean." "I'm not sure I do." "Your art." Shammy's expression cleared. "Oh." "Your collectors." "Yes." "Your entire ridiculous public existence." "Thank you." "That wasn't a compliment." "It sounded like one." Ace rubbed both hands over her face. "If somebody recognizes Mandi, that's one thing. If somebody recognizes Dalia, same problem." Mai nodded. Ace pointed at Shammy. "If somebody recognizes Sera, they're already looking at someone whose entire public existence tells them ordinary prices probably don't apply." Shammy considered that. "That's not entirely accurate." "Is it inaccurate enough to help me?" A pause. "No." "Thank you." Mai rested her chin against one hand. "She's right." Ace stared at her. "I know I'm right." "I wanted you to enjoy hearing it." "I did. Briefly." Shammy looked between them. "So what changes?" Ace opened her mouth. Mai answered first. "We talk to Suzie." Ace looked at her. "We were doing that anyway." "Exactly." "And we don't invent Sera's rules for her while we're sitting here." That was annoyingly sensible. Shammy nodded. "We see what happens." Ace immediately pointed at her. "No." Shammy blinked. "What?" "That sentence." "What about it?" "'We see what happens.'" "Yes." "Nothing good has ever followed those words." Mai looked thoughtful. "That's demonstrably false." Ace turned toward her. "Name one." Mai's eyes moved slowly down Ace's body and back up again. Ace stared. Shammy made a soft sound. Ace's face warmed. "That doesn't count." "It absolutely counts." "We are discussing professional risk." "So was I." Shammy's hair lifted another fraction. Ace looked between them. "Could we please remain focused for ten consecutive seconds?" Mai smiled. "No." "Fine." Ace retrieved her tablet. "We talk to Suzie." "Yes," Shammy said. "We make sure Mox security knows what's happening." "Yes." "If you only watch, you only watch." "Yes." "If somebody asks you whether you're working, you answer." Shammy smiled. "Yes." "If you decide you want to try it—" Ace paused. This one mattered. "—you decide." Shammy's expression warmed. "I know." "I know you know." "Then why say it?" Ace thought about that. "Because I love you." Shammy's smile arrived slowly. "Good answer." Mai leaned across and kissed Ace's cheek. "Very good answer." Ace tolerated this indignity with dignity. Mostly. Then she looked at Mai. Mai caught the look. "What?" Ace frowned. "Second problem." Mai waited. Ace pointed between the two of them. "Mandi and Dalia." Shammy looked interested. Mai immediately understood. "Voices." "Voices." Ace tapped two fingers against her throat. "If we're going as Mandi and Dalia, we're going properly." Mai nodded. "Victor." "Victor." Shammy looked between them. "Biosculpt." Ace pointed at her. "Exactly." Shammy smiled. Ace narrowed her eyes. "What?" "Nothing." "That wasn't nothing." "I've watched you do this before." "I know." "Several times." "I know." Mai's smile appeared over the rim of her mug. Ace looked at her. "Don't." Mai lowered the mug. "I didn't say anything." "You're both doing it now." Shammy's hair shifted softly. Ace sighed. "The point is, Mandi has Mandi's voice. Dalia has Dalia's voice. Full covers." "Hair, eyes, clothes, voice," Shammy said. "Everything." Mai nodded. "And Dalia's face." Ace looked at her. "Yes." That mattered too. Dalia wasn't Mai with pink hair and green eyes. She was Dalia. Complete. Shammy considered the two of them. "And I don't need any of that." Ace slowly turned toward her. There was a dangerous little brightness in Shammy's eyes. "No." "I already look like Sera." "Do not sound pleased about that." "I'm not." "You are." "A little." Mai laughed. Ace pointed between herself and Mai. "So we go to Victor, get our voices biosculpted, come home, ChromeLock, contacts, face mesh, wardrobe—" Mai lifted one finger. "Lollipop." Ace stared at her. "That is not technically part of the cover." "It is absolutely part of the cover." Shammy nodded. "It is." Ace looked at Shammy. "You don't get to support her." "Why?" "Because I'm already outnumbered." "That's not a reason." "It's an excellent reason." Mai smiled. Ace continued. "Meanwhile, you put on something white and horrifyingly expensive." Shammy frowned. "Couture." Ace closed her eyes. "Of course." "It's an important distinction." "I'm sure it is." "And it might not be a dress." Ace opened her eyes. "What does that mean?" "I haven't decided yet." Ace stared. Mai reached for her coffee. Ace turned toward Mai. "She's already choosing clothes." "Apparently." "She said she hasn't decided." "That's still choosing." Shammy's electric-blue eyes brightened. Ace saw it. "No." "What?" "Nothing with structural wings." Shammy paused. "I wasn't thinking about wings." "You are now." Another pause. "Maybe." Ace dropped her forehead onto the table. Mai started laughing. Shammy reached over and stroked the back of Ace's head. Ace spoke into the tabletop. "I hate both of you." "No, you don't," Mai said. "No." Shammy's fingers moved gently through Ace's short hair. "No," Ace admitted. She sat up again. "One more thing." Shammy waited. "When we talk to Suzie, you do the talking about what you want." "Of course." "We're not taking you there." Shammy's expression softened. "We're going together." Ace nodded. "Exactly." Mai's hand found Ace's shoulder and squeezed. Shammy reached across the table. Ace took her hand. Mai covered both. For a moment, nobody joked. Nobody needed to. Then Shammy looked at Ace. "So when do we call Victor?" Ace glanced at the time. "Now." Shammy blinked. "Now?" Ace looked at her. "You wanted to go to Jig-Jig." "Yes." "You wanted to go with Mandi and Dalia." "Yes." Mai smiled. Ace picked up the tablet. "Then unless Victor is busy, I don't see a reason to turn this into a week-long military campaign." Mai laughed. "Growth." Ace glared at her. "Careful." "I'm proud of you." "I can still make a spreadsheet." "Don't." Shammy looked between them. "Are we going today?" Ace paused with her finger over Victor's contact. There it was. Not a hypothetical anymore. Today. Victor. Mandi. Dalia. Suzie. And then Jig-Jig. She looked at Shammy. Shammy wasn't nervous. Or if she was, it wasn't enough to dim the curiosity in her eyes. Ace looked at Mai. Mai gave the smallest nod. Not deciding for her. Just there. Ace looked back at Shammy. "If Victor can take us." Shammy smiled. "Okay." Ace pressed the call. Then immediately pointed at Shammy. "And you are not allowed to become more expensive than Mandi." There was silence. Mai slowly turned toward her. Shammy stared. Ace stared back. Then Mai said: "That's not a rule you can make." Ace's expression collapsed. "I know." Shammy's hair lifted softly around her shoulders. Mai started laughing. Ace looked at her coffee. It was empty. Of course it was. Behind her, the tablet began connecting the call. Shammy asked: "Ace?" "What?" "How expensive is too expensive?" Ace stopped. Mai made a strangled sound. Ace turned very slowly. Shammy's expression was completely sincere. That somehow made it worse. Ace pointed at the coffee machine. "I'm not answering that until this is full." Mai laughed harder. Shammy smiled. Victor's voice came through the tablet. "Ace?" Ace closed her eyes. Of course he had answered immediately. She picked up the tablet. "Hi, Victor." There was a pause. "What do you need?" Ace looked at Mai. Then Shammy. Shammy's eyes were bright. Ace sighed. "Two voice biosculpts." Another pause. "Mandi and Dalia?" "Yes." Victor sighed. Ace smiled. "Good news. That's the normal part." The silence from the tablet lasted considerably longer this time. Mai covered her mouth. Shammy's hair lifted. Finally Victor said: "How soon can you get here?" Ace looked at Shammy. Shammy was already standing. Ace grinned. "Apparently very fucking soon." --- # CHAPTER 4 — THREE WOMEN Victor looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then Shammy. Then back at Ace. "What's the abnormal part?" Ace stopped halfway into the clinic. Mai walked into her. Shammy stopped behind both of them. Ace stared at Victor. "Excuse me?" "You said two voice biosculpts were the normal part." Victor folded his arms. "So what's the abnormal part?" Ace looked over her shoulder at Shammy. Shammy smiled. Ace turned back. "Her." Victor looked at Shammy. Shammy's smile disappeared. "That's rude." "No, no." Ace pointed rapidly between them. "Not her. Her being here." Victor's eyebrows rose. "Also rude." Mai leaned around Ace. "She's coming to Jig-Jig with us." Victor was silent. Ace watched the information arrive. Watched it settle. Watched Victor look at Shammy again. Then at Ace. Then Mai. Finally: "Right." Ace nodded. "Approximately my reaction." Shammy stepped around her. "I want to see what they like about it." Victor looked at her. "You've been there before." "Passed through." "To Wakako." "Yes." "And now?" Shammy glanced at Ace and Mai. "I'm curious." Victor closed his eyes. Ace pointed. "See?" Victor opened them. "I didn't say anything." "You didn't have to." Mai walked farther into the clinic. "Can you do the biosculpts?" Victor looked at her. "Yes." "Today?" "Yes." Ace spread both hands. "Excellent. Everything is normal." Victor gave her a long look. Ace lowered her hands. "Relatively." "Sit down." Ace climbed into the chair. There was nothing novel about the procedure. That was probably why Shammy paid almost no attention to the equipment. She had seen this before. She knew what Victor was doing. She knew what Ace would sound like afterward. Ace knew all of that. Which was why, several minutes into the procedure, she finally asked: "Why are you staring at me?" Shammy blinked. "I am?" "Yes." Mai was leaning against the wall beside her. "She is." Shammy looked at Mai. "You're staring too." "At Ace." "Yes." Ace frowned. "Why is everybody staring at Ace?" Victor didn't look up. "Hold still." "I am holding still." "Your mouth is moving." "That's generally how talking works." Victor stopped. Ace immediately became motionless. "See?" Victor continued. Shammy smiled. Ace caught it. "There." "What?" "That." "What?" "You're enjoying this." "A little." Ace narrowed her eyes. "You've seen me get Mandi's voice before." "Yes." "So this isn't interesting." Shammy considered that. "It is." "Why?" "Because last time I wasn't going to Jig-Jig with her." Ace went quiet. Mai's expression changed slightly. Shammy continued. "I've heard Mandi." Ace looked at her. "I've seen Mandi." A small smile. "I know Mandi." Ace's mouth twitched. "But tonight I'm going with her." There it was. Not the procedure. Not the voice. Context. Ace looked down. "Well." Shammy waited. Ace looked back up. "Don't make it weird." "I wasn't." "You were close." Mai laughed softly. Victor finished and stepped back. "All right." Ace swallowed once. Familiar. Easy. Nothing dramatic. She looked at Shammy. Shammy looked back. Ace deliberately waited. Shammy's eyes narrowed. Ace smiled. Then: "Better?" Mandi's voice filled the clinic. Shammy's reaction was tiny. Her silver-white hair lifted near one temple. Her electric-blue eyes brightened. Ace immediately pointed at her. "Ha." Shammy blinked. "What?" "You did the thing." "What thing?" "The hair." Shammy reached up. "It does that." "I know." Mai smiled. Ace hopped down from the chair. Shammy was still looking at her. Ace stopped in front of her. "What?" "I've heard it before." "Yes." Shammy's smile deepened. "It still sounds good." Ace's expression softened despite herself. "Thank you." Shammy bent and kissed her. Ace caught the front of Shammy's clothes and kept her there for another second before letting go. When Shammy straightened, Ace looked smug. Mai looked amused. Victor pointed at the chair. "Mai." Mai pushed away from the wall. Ace stepped aside. "Your turn." Mai sat. Ace immediately moved to Shammy and leaned against her. Shammy's arm came around her automatically. Victor began. Ace watched. She'd seen this before too. Many times. And Shammy had been right. It was different today. Not because Mai was changing. Not because the process had changed. Because Ace knew where they were going afterward. Soon Dalia would be standing beside Mandi at Lizzie's. Sera would be standing with them. Then Jig-Jig. People approaching. Offers. Choices. Shammy watching. Maybe nothing more. Maybe something more. Ace stopped there. That decision wasn't hers. Shammy's hand moved slowly over her back. Ace looked up. Shammy was watching Mai. Not Victor. Mai. Ace smiled. Shammy noticed. "What?" "Nothing." Shammy looked down at her. "That wasn't nothing." Ace's smile widened. "I'm learning." Shammy poked her gently in the side. Ace squirmed. "Abuse." Mai spoke from the chair. "Deserved." Ace looked over. "You don't even have Dalia's voice yet." "I don't need it." "Debatable." Victor sighed. "Ace." "What?" "Let me work." "I'm over here." "Somehow you're still interfering." Ace looked at Shammy. "Talent." Shammy nodded solemnly. "Exceptional." Victor muttered something. Mai laughed. Then, eventually, Victor stepped back. "Done." Ace straightened. Shammy did too. Mai swallowed. Then looked directly at Ace. Ace immediately knew. "No." Mai's smile appeared. Dalia's low whiskey-and-smoke voice followed it. "No what?" Ace stared. Shammy's hair lifted. Mai saw it. Ace saw Mai see it. "Oh, fuck." Shammy looked between them. "What?" Ace pointed upward. "Hair." Shammy tried to smooth it down. Mai stood. "Leave it." Dalia's voice made the two words land differently. Shammy stopped. Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Shammy. Shammy's electric-blue eyes had brightened again. Ace folded her arms. "Interesting." Shammy looked at her. "What?" "Nothing." Mai laughed. Ace immediately pointed. "See? I can do it too." "Poorly," Mai said. Mandi stared at Dalia. Dalia stared back. Shammy looked from one to the other. Then smiled. "I understand why people pay you." Silence. Ace's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Mai slowly turned toward Shammy. Victor stopped what he was doing. Ace finally found her voice. "Excuse me?" Shammy looked completely sincere. "You both sound very good." "That's not what you said." "It was what I meant." Mai's smile was becoming dangerous. Ace pointed at her without looking. "Don't." "I haven't said anything." "You don't need to." Shammy's hair rose another fraction. Ace looked at Victor. "Can you undo hers?" Victor stared at her. "Whose?" Ace pointed at Mai. Mai laughed. Dalia's voice rolled through the clinic. "No." Ace looked at her. "See? That's exactly the problem." Shammy laughed. Victor rubbed one hand over his face. "We're done." Ace looked at him. "Professionally?" Victor pointed toward the door. "Out." "That's not an answer." "Out." "You love us." "Usually." Mai stood beside Ace. Shammy joined them. Victor looked at the three women. Then his attention settled on Shammy. "Sera." Shammy turned. Victor's expression lost the exasperation. "You sure?" Ace went still. Mai did too. Neither answered. Shammy noticed. Victor noticed that they hadn't. Good. Shammy looked at him. "I'm sure I want to go." "And after that?" "I don't know." Victor nodded. Shammy continued. "That's why I'm going." Another nod. "Fair." Ace opened the door. "Come on." They stepped into the corridor. Victor called after them. "Ace." Ace turned. "What?" "Try not to make the news." Mandi smiled. "No promises." Victor's eyes closed. Ace shut the door. They were halfway back to the safehouse when Shammy said: "Mandi." Ace looked up. "What?" Shammy smiled. Ace waited. Nothing. "What?" "I wanted to hear you answer." Ace stared at her. Mai laughed. Ace pointed at Shammy. "Menace." "I learned from you." "Defamation." Dalia's voice came from Ace's other side. "Accurate." Ace turned. "You stay out of this." "No." Ace stared at Mai. Mai smiled. Ace looked between her lovers. Then sighed. "This was a terrible idea." Shammy took her hand. Mai took the other. Neither argued. That was worse. Back at the safehouse, Ace stood in front of the bedroom mirror and watched Mandi finish appearing. The voice was already there. Now the rest followed. Screaming neon-orange ChromeLock hair. Black contacts replacing violet. The discreet cover-safe collar. Premium joytoy clothes built around Mandi's familiar silhouette. Shorts. Obviously. Ace adjusted the waistband. Turned sideways. Adjusted one leg by less than an inch. Looked again. Better. Behind her, a voice said: "You're going to move that again." Mandi looked at the mirror. Dalia stood in the doorway. The voice arrived first. The rest of her made Ace's eyebrows rise. Screaming neon-pink ChromeLock hair. Emerald, katana-green reflective contacts. The face mesh completing Dalia rather than leaving Mai underneath the presentation. Thigh-high boots. Premium joytoy clothing. And a menthol lollipop already resting between her lips. Ace looked her up and down. Slowly. "Oh, fuck off." Dalia removed the lollipop. "What?" "You know what." "I don't." "That." Ace waved at all of her. Dalia smiled. "Specific." "You practiced walking through that door." "I did not." "Lie." "Prove it." Ace stared. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Ace's black eyes narrowed. "Menace." Dalia crossed the room. "Twenty-five thousand." Ace's jaw dropped. "You fucking bitch." Mai— Dalia— laughed. Ace caught her by the waist and pulled her down into a kiss. The lollipop was wisely moved out of the way. When they separated, Ace kept one hand at Dalia's waist. "You've been waiting to use that since Victor." "Yes." "At least you're honest." "Usually." A soft sound came from behind them. Ace turned. And stopped. Sera stood near the wardrobe. White. Not merely dressed in it. Composed in it. The couture followed no sensible category Ace could identify. Part fitted garment, part flowing architecture, part wearable artwork, it wrapped Sera's tall frame in asymmetric white layers that changed shape subtly when she moved. One shoulder remained bare. Fine pale structural elements traced portions of the fabric without turning it into armor or costume. Ace checked. "No wings." Sera looked behind herself. "No." "Thank you." "I considered them." Ace closed her eyes. "Of course you did." Dalia laughed. Ace opened her eyes again. Sera's silver-white hair fell around the white structure in soft luminous lines. Electric-blue eyes watched her. Sera wasn't dressed like a joytoy. She wasn't trying to be. She looked like Sera had decided Jig-Jig Street was worthy of an appearance. Which might be considerably more dangerous. Ace looked at her for several seconds. Then: "You look expensive." Sera smiled. "So do you." "No, I look professionally expensive." Dalia leaned against the dresser. "Important distinction." "Extremely." Sera walked closer. Her eyes moved over Mandi. Ace watched the assessment happen. "What?" "Nothing." "Stop saying nothing." Sera reached down. Two fingers touched Mandi's collar. Moved it perhaps two millimeters. Stopped. "There." Ace stared up at her. "Why does everyone become an expert on Mandi except Mandi?" Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice answered immediately. "Because you're adorable when you're angry." Ace turned. "I am not adorable." Sera considered her. "You are quite small." Ace's mouth fell open. Dalia nearly lost the lollipop. "That is not the same thing!" Sera's hair lifted. Ace pointed at her. "And don't you start." "I'm not doing anything." "Everybody keeps saying that while doing things." Dalia was laughing now. Ace looked at the two towering disasters in front of her. Then grabbed a handful of Sera's immaculate couture. Sera looked down. Ace tugged. Sera obediently bent. Ace kissed her. That ended the argument. For several seconds, anyway. When Ace released her, Sera remained close. Silver-white strands had begun lifting around her face. Her eyes were brighter. Dalia looked at them. "Gallery plus." Ace inspected. "Maybe gallery plus two." Sera straightened. "You have numbers now?" "We're refining the system." "You don't have a system." "We absolutely have a system." Dalia stepped in and kissed Sera next. Sera's hand settled naturally at her waist. Ace watched. More silver-white strands rose. The blue brightened again. When they separated, Ace nodded. "Plus three." Sera looked at her. "You're making this up." "Science." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. "Very rigorous." Sera sighed. Then all three turned toward the mirror. The room went quiet. Mandi. Dalia. Sera. Orange. Pink. White. Black eyes. Reflective green. Electric blue. Three women. Three presentations. Three versions of people who knew exactly who they were beneath every visible layer. Ace looked at Sera's reflection. "Last chance." Sera met her eyes in the mirror. "To do what?" "Change your mind." "About going?" "About any of it." Sera considered that. "I still want to go." Ace nodded. "Okay." Mai—Dalia—watched Sera too. "And once we're there?" Sera smiled faintly. "I'll decide once we're there." Ace sighed. "There are those words again." "What words?" "'Once we're there.'" Dalia's mouth curved around the lollipop. "Technically different words." Ace glared at her reflection. "You're supposed to support me." "I am." "Poorly." Sera's hand settled on Ace's shoulder. Dalia's on the other. Ace looked at the mirror. At them. At herself. Then she smiled. "Fine." She turned. "Let's go talk to Suzie." Sera's eyes brightened. Dalia opened the bedroom door. Ace took three steps into the hallway before stopping. Behind her: "What?" Ace looked back. Sera towered in impossible white couture. Dalia stood beside her in pink hair, green eyes, thigh-high boots and a face that wasn't Mai's. Ace looked down at herself. Orange. Black. Shorts. Then back at them. "We look like an expensive bad decision." Sera considered the observation. Dalia removed the lollipop. "We are an expensive bad decision." Ace pointed at her. "That is exactly the attitude that's going to get us into trouble." Dalia smiled. Sera smiled. Ace stared at them. Then turned toward the stairs. "Fuck it. Suzie first." Two sets of footsteps followed. One light. One impossibly long-legged. And before they'd even reached the upper door, Ace was already wondering exactly how long it would take Suzie Q to look at Mandi, Dalia, and Sera together and simply say no. --- # CHAPTER 5 — YOU BROUGHT SERA Suzie Q looked up. Stopped polishing the glass in her hand. Looked at Mandi. Looked at Dalia. Then looked considerably farther upward. Sera smiled. Suzie put the glass down. "No." Mandi stared at her. "I haven't asked yet." "You brought Sera." Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. "Maybe she wanted a drink." Suzie pointed toward the bar. "That's where people who want drinks go." Mandi looked. They were standing at the bar. She looked back at Suzie. "We are at the bar." Suzie stared at her. Mandi considered the tactical situation. "Fair." Sera's silver-white hair shifted softly around her shoulders. Suzie looked at her again. Not the couture. Not for long, anyway. It was difficult not to look at the couture. But mostly Sera. "Tell me I'm wrong." Sera tilted her head. "About what?" Suzie closed her eyes. Mandi smiled. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Suzie opened her eyes again. "You didn't come here for a drink." "I might have one." "Sera." "Yes?" "Why are you here?" Mandi opened her mouth. Suzie's finger snapped toward her. "No." Mandi closed it. Dalia's shoulders moved once. Mandi turned. "Don't laugh." "I didn't." The whiskey-and-smoke voice made the denial particularly offensive. Suzie pointed at Dalia next. "You too." Dalia lifted both hands. Suzie looked at Sera. "Her." Sera glanced at Mandi. Then Dalia. Neither moved. Neither answered. Her choice. Her explanation. Sera looked back at Suzie. "I want to understand why they like working on Jig-Jig." Suzie's expression changed. Not much. Enough. "So you're watching." "To start." Mandi closed her eyes. Suzie noticed. "What's wrong with her?" Mandi opened them. "Nothing." Dalia laughed around the lollipop. Suzie stared at Mandi. "That sounded painful." "She said the words." "What words?" Mandi pointed at Sera. "'To start.'" Suzie looked at Sera. Sera smiled. Suzie looked back at Mandi. "Ah." "Exactly." Sera's hair lifted faintly. Suzie leaned both hands against the bar. "All right. Let's try this again." She looked directly at Sera. "Do you want to work?" Sera thought. Mandi watched her. Dalia watched her. Suzie waited. "I don't know." Suzie nodded. "Good answer." Mandi blinked. "Really?" Suzie looked at her. "Yes." "Okay." "You want me to tell her she has to decide before she's even stood out there?" "No." "Then shut up." Mandi shut up. For almost four seconds. "What if—" Dalia put one hand over her mouth. Mandi glared upward. Dalia smiled. Suzie looked at Sera. "If you want to watch, watch." Sera nodded. "If someone approaches you, you can talk to them." Another nod. "You can say no." "Obviously." "You can say yes." Sera's expression didn't change. "Obviously." "You can change your mind before anything happens." "Yes." "You can stop." "Yes." Suzie glanced toward Mandi and Dalia. "They know the rest." Mandi pulled Dalia's hand away. "We do." Suzie looked back at Sera. "And if those two start answering questions for you—" "I'll stop them." Mandi looked offended. "We weren't going to." Suzie stared at her. Mandi reconsidered. "We were going to try not to." "Better." Dalia's lollipop clicked softly against her teeth. Suzie's attention moved to her. "Don't encourage her." Dalia took it out. "I'm being supportive." "You're enjoying this." "Also true." Sera laughed. Suzie studied all three of them. Then her expression changed again. More serious this time. "There's another problem." Mandi nodded immediately. "Recognition." "Recognition." Sera looked between them. Suzie pointed at her. "You're Sera." "Yes." "Not a Sera cover." "No." "Not some face nobody knows." "No." "The artist." Sera smiled faintly. "Usually." Suzie stared. Mandi leaned toward Dalia. "See?" Dalia murmured: "Don't." "That's exactly what she did to me." "I know." Suzie continued. "People recognize you." "Some." "People with money recognize you." Sera's eyes brightened slightly. Mandi folded her arms. "Thank you." Suzie looked at her. "For what?" "I had this exact conversation this morning." "And?" "Nobody respected how difficult my life was." Suzie stared. Mandi sighed. "Continue." Suzie turned back to Sera. "If you stand on Jig-Jig looking like that, someone is going to figure out who you are." "I know." "Probably quickly." "I know." "And then this stops being a normal street booking." Sera considered that. "Why?" Mandi made a small strangled sound. Suzie pointed at her without looking. "Don't." Mandi raised both hands. Suzie looked at Sera. "Because you're already expensive." Sera's eyebrows lifted. Dalia turned her face away. Mandi whispered: "Thank you." Suzie heard her. "Shut up." "Yes." Sera looked thoughtful. "My art is expensive." "That's enough." "Is it?" "Tonight? Yes." Suzie looked at the white couture. Then Sera's face. Then the impossible silver-white hair. "You're not going to blend in." "I wasn't trying to." "I know." "And I don't have a rate." Suzie stopped. Mandi's head turned. Dalia removed the lollipop. Suzie looked at Sera. "What?" "I don't have a rate." Mandi looked at Mai. Dalia looked at Mandi. Neither said anything. Suzie asked: "You came here considering whether you might work and you didn't decide what you'd charge?" Sera shook her head. "I didn't know whether I wanted to work." Suzie stared at her. Sera stared back. Mandi slowly nodded. "Actually, that makes sense." Suzie looked at her. "It does." Mandi blinked. "Oh." Suzie thought for several seconds. Then: "Seven figures." Silence. Mandi's entire body went still. Dalia stopped moving the lollipop. Sera tilted her head. "Seven figures?" Suzie nodded. Mandi found her voice. "Excuse me?" Suzie ignored her. "If someone asks seriously, that's the floor." Mandi stepped forward. "The floor?" Dalia caught the back of her collar. Mandi stopped. Suzie continued looking at Sera. "Not a fixed rate." Sera nodded slowly. "Seven figures gets them considered." Mandi made a sound. Suzie pointed at her. "I can still hear you." "I didn't say anything." "You made a noise." "I am allowed noises." Dalia pulled gently on her collar. Mandi glared upward. Suzie continued. "It doesn't buy yes." Sera's expression sharpened with interest. "It buys the question." "Exactly." "And I still choose." "Every time." "Even if they offer more." "Especially then." Sera nodded. Mandi looked between them. "Can we revisit the seven figures?" "No," Suzie and Dalia said together. Mandi stared at Dalia. "Betrayal." Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice remained calm. "Reality." "My rate is twenty-five thousand." Suzie looked at her. "I know." "I worked my way up to that." "I know." "That's a good rate." "It's an excellent rate." Mandi pointed at Sera. "She hasn't worked one minute." Sera looked concerned. "Are you upset with me?" Mandi's expression collapsed instantly. "No." Sera waited. "No. Absolutely not." "Okay." "I'm upset with economics." Dalia smiled. "Let it go, babe." "I will not." Suzie leaned against the bar. "Are you finished?" "No." "Good. Be unfinished somewhere else." Mandi stared. Then sighed. "Fine." Sera was still thinking. Suzie watched her. "Problem?" "No." "Question?" "Yes." "Go." Sera looked toward Mandi. "Is seven figures a lot for this?" Mandi stared at her. Dalia closed her eyes. Suzie looked down at the bar. Mandi took one slow breath. Then another. "Sera." "Yes?" "I love you." Sera smiled. "I love you too." "Seven figures is not normal." "Oh." "Not remotely normal." "Okay." "Not adjacent to normal." Dalia put one hand on Mandi's shoulder. "She's got it." "I need her to understand." "I understand." Mandi looked up at Sera. "Do you?" "Yes." A pause. "Seven figures is a lot." "Thank you." Sera smiled. "But that's only the minimum to be considered." Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia started laughing. Suzie turned away. Mandi opened her eyes. "Why is everyone enjoying my suffering?" Sera touched her cheek. "I'm not." Mandi looked at her. Sera was completely sincere. That somehow made it worse. Mandi leaned into her hand anyway. Suzie took a breath and turned back. "One more thing." The humor faded. All three listened. "Mox security applies exactly the same way it does for anyone else working under our eye." Sera nodded. "You say no, it's no." "Yes." "You say stop, it stops." "Yes." "Someone decides your fame, their money, or anything else means those rules don't apply—" Suzie's expression hardened. "They learn otherwise." Sera held her gaze. Then nodded. "Good." Something in the word made Mandi look at her. Not fear. Understanding. That mattered. Suzie noticed too. "Still want to go?" Sera looked toward the door. Then at Mandi. Then Dalia. Finally back to Suzie. "Yes." "Still starting with watching?" "Yes." Mandi waited. Sera looked down at her. "For now." Mandi groaned. Suzie laughed. Actually laughed. Mandi stared at her. "Oh, fuck you too." Suzie reached for another glass. "Go." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Sera turned toward the exit. Mandi followed them two steps. Then stopped. "Wait." Both turned. Mandi looked at Suzie. "Seven figures?" Suzie stared. Mandi pointed at herself. "Twenty-five thousand." Dalia walked back, caught her by the waist, and physically turned her toward the door. Mandi allowed herself to be redirected. "This is bullshit." "Come on, babe." "I am a highly skilled professional." "Yes." "I have references." "I'm sure." "Repeat customers." "I know." Sera opened the door. Mandi pointed at her as they passed. "And you haven't even started." Sera smiled. "I'll try to do well." Mandi stopped. Dalia nearly folded over laughing. Suzie made a sound behind them. Mandi stared up at Sera. "That was sincere." "Yes." "That's why it hurt." "I'm sorry." "No, you're not." Sera thought. "A little." Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia was useless. She looked back at Suzie. Suzie was worse. Mandi sighed. "Fine." She walked through the door. Dalia followed. Sera ducked slightly beneath the frame and stepped out after them. Suzie watched the three disappear. Neon orange. Neon pink. Impossible white. Then she looked at the untouched glass in front of her. "Seven figures," she muttered. A bartender nearby looked over. "What?" Suzie picked up the glass. "Nothing." Outside, Mandi's voice carried faintly back through the door. "TWENTY-FIVE FUCKING THOUSAND IS A GOOD RATE." Suzie closed her eyes. Dalia's laughter followed. Then Sera's. Suzie smiled despite herself. Jig-Jig had no idea what was coming. --- # CHAPTER 6 — NOT PASSING THROUGH The first difference was that Sera stopped. She had walked this street before. That part wasn't new. Neon stacked over neon. Music bleeding from doorways. Vendors shouting over one another. Food, perfume, hot pavement, synth-smoke, cheap alcohol and too many people compressed into too little space. Jig-Jig. Sera knew where it was. She knew what it looked like. She knew the route through it toward Wakako. Before, that had been what the street was. A route. This time, Mandi walked three steps ahead of her, turned around, and began walking backward. "Well?" Sera looked around. Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. "Give her a second." "I'm giving her a second." "You asked after approximately four." "That's seconds." Dalia looked at Sera. "Ignore her." "I live with her." "Then you're trained." Mandi looked offended. Sera smiled. Then she looked around again. This time she didn't look at Jig-Jig as scenery. She looked at people. That changed everything. She noticed the workers first. Not because they were difficult to identify. Some were deliberately impossible to miss. But because now she knew what she was looking for. Presentation. Position. Movement. Who stood alone. Who worked in pairs. Who moved. Who stayed in one place and let the street come to them. Who called out. Who didn't need to. Who watched prospective clients openly. Who seemed to notice everyone without visibly looking at anyone. And then there were the clients. Some moving with purpose. Some pretending they weren't looking. Some comparing. Some talking. Some already negotiating. Some simply enjoying the street. Sera watched. Mandi stopped walking backward and came to stand beside her. Dalia took Sera's other side. For several seconds, none of them spoke. Sera's hair shifted gently in the warm artificial breeze. "This is different." Mandi looked up at her. "From passing through?" "Yes." "Good different?" Sera thought. "More complicated." Mandi smiled. "Also yes." Dalia gestured ahead with the lollipop. "What do you see?" Sera looked. "A lot of performance." Mandi's eyebrows rose. "Okay." "Not fake." Dalia smiled. "Keep going." Sera watched a joytoy several meters away laugh at something a potential client had said. The laugh was genuine. The posture around it wasn't accidental. "Presentation." Mandi nodded. "Choice." Another nod. "Negotiation." "Yep." Sera's gaze moved farther. "Attention." Mandi glanced at Dalia. Dalia glanced back. Sera noticed. "What?" "Nothing," Mandi said. Sera looked down at her. "That wasn't nothing." Mandi sighed. "I hate what I've created." "You didn't create that." "I encouraged it." "Yes." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi pointed. "You're worse." Dalia smiled. Sera's attention moved beyond them again. Then she noticed the security. Not obvious in the way a corporate checkpoint would have been obvious. No uniforms demanding attention. No wall of weapons. But once she knew to look— There. A Mox woman near one entrance. Another farther along. Someone across the street whose eyes were moving more than her head. A subtle exchange of glances. A hand signal. Awareness. Sera looked toward Mandi. "They're watching." Mandi followed her gaze. "Mox." "I know." "They're supposed to." Sera nodded. "They're watching clients too." "Especially clients." Something shifted in Sera's expression. Dalia saw it. "Suzie wasn't exaggerating." "No." "About no." Mandi shook her head. "No." Sera looked back toward the nearest Mox guard. The woman noticed. Their eyes met. The guard gave Sera a small nod. Not recognition. Acknowledgment. Sera returned it. Then the guard's gaze moved briefly to Mandi and Dalia. Recognition there. Professional. Routine. And back to the street. Sera absorbed that. Mandi watched her. "What?" Sera looked down. "You really can say no." Mandi blinked. "Of course." "I knew that." "I know." "But—" Sera searched for the distinction. "Here, it's structural." Mandi's expression softened. "Yeah." Dalia removed the lollipop. "That's part of why this works." Sera looked at her. "For you?" "For me." Then Mandi. "For both of us." Mandi nodded. "If no wasn't easy, we wouldn't be here." Sera looked at them. That settled somewhere. Not dramatically. Just firmly. Then Mandi's expression changed. "Okay." Sera recognized the tone. "What?" "Ground rules." Dalia sighed. "We already did this." "Those were Suzie's ground rules." "And?" "These are mine." Sera's eyebrows rose. Mandi held up one finger. "We do not answer for you." "Agreed." "Two: if you want us, you call us." "Agreed." "Three: if you don't want us, we don't hover." "Agreed." "Four—" Dalia looked at her. "How many are there?" "I don't know yet." "That's not reassuring." Mandi ignored her. "Four: don't agree to anything because you think you're supposed to." Sera's expression softened. "I won't." "Five: curiosity is not an obligation." "I know." "Six—" Dalia caught Mandi gently by the shoulders. "Babe." "What?" "You're turning this into a briefing." "It is a briefing." "No." "We brief." "We're on Jig-Jig." "Exactly." Dalia looked at Sera. "Do you understand what she means?" "Yes." "Do you need six more rules?" Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi waited. Sera smiled. "No." Dalia kissed the top of Mandi's neon-orange hair. "Briefing complete." Mandi glared upward. "I had good rules." "You did." "I had at least three more." "I know." "One was probably important." "If it becomes important, tell us." Mandi considered that. "Fine." Sera looked between them. "Do you do this every time?" Dalia laughed. Mandi stared at Sera. "Do what?" "This." "This what?" "Argue about how to do something while already doing it." Dalia's laugh became louder. Mandi pointed at Sera. "You've lived with us long enough to know the answer." "I wanted confirmation." "Yes." "Thank you." Mandi muttered something. Sera smiled. Then someone walking past slowed. A man. Mid-thirties, perhaps. Well dressed by Jig-Jig standards. Not corpo formal. Not drunk. His attention went first to Dalia. Then Mandi. Then Sera. And stopped. Sera noticed. So did Mandi. So did Dalia. Nobody moved. The man took another step. Stopped. Looked at Sera again. There was no recognition in his face. Not yet. Just interest. He approached. Mandi did nothing. Dalia did nothing. Sera watched him come. "Hey." Sera smiled politely. "Hello." His eyes moved over the white couture. Then upward. And upward. Sera was accustomed to that. "You're new." Mandi's mouth twitched. Sera answered. "Here?" "Yeah." "Yes." The man smiled. Then came the question. "Working?" Sera went very still. Not frightened. Not uncomfortable. Just— There it was. The question she'd discussed over breakfast. The question Suzie had asked her to imagine. The question that had been theoretical until approximately one second ago. Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi looked back. Silent. She looked at Dalia. Dalia slowly put the menthol lollipop into her mouth. Silent. Sera looked back at the man. "Maybe." Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia's shoulders moved. The man smiled. "Maybe?" "Yes." "What's that mean?" Sera considered it. "I'm deciding." The answer confused him. Not offensively. Just enough. "Okay." Sera waited. He looked at her again. Then apparently decided the uncertainty wasn't worth navigating. "No problem." He smiled. "Have a good night." "You too." And he walked away. Sera watched him go. Mandi opened her eyes. Dalia removed the lollipop. Nobody spoke. Sera looked at Mandi. "What?" Mandi stared at her. "You said maybe." "Yes." "Just like at breakfast." "Yes." "To an actual client." "He wasn't a client." Mandi paused. Sera's eyebrows lifted. "He asked a question." Dalia smiled slowly. Mandi looked at her. "Don't." "I didn't say anything." Mandi looked back at Sera. "How did that feel?" Sera thought about it. "Easy." That caught both of them. "Easy?" Dalia asked. Sera nodded. "I didn't want to say yes." Mandi waited. "I didn't want to say no." Another pause. "So I didn't." Mandi smiled. "Okay." Sera looked toward the man disappearing into the crowd. "He just left." "Yeah." "He wasn't angry." "No." "He didn't argue." "No." "He didn't ask why." Mandi's voice softened. "No." Sera looked again toward the Mox security presence farther down the street. Then at Mandi. Then Dalia. "I understand that part now." Dalia nodded. "Good." Sera's hair moved softly. Mandi looked up. "Still watching?" Sera's eyes traveled across the street. People. Workers. Clients. Movement. Choice. Then back to Mandi. "Yes." Mandi nodded. No disappointment. No push. "Then watch." They started walking. This time Sera didn't follow behind them. She walked between them. Slowly. Looking. Learning. A few people glanced at the white couture. One stared. Another turned after passing. Sera noticed that too. Mandi noticed Sera noticing. Dalia noticed both. Nobody commented. Not yet. They made it perhaps twenty meters. Then a woman coming the other way stopped so abruptly that the person behind her nearly walked into her. Sera saw the woman's face change. First attention. Then uncertainty. Then recognition. The woman stared. Sera stopped. Mandi stopped. Dalia stopped. The woman looked directly at Sera. "No fucking way." Mandi whispered: "And there it is." Sera glanced down. "What?" Mandi looked up at her. "Recognition." The woman was already reaching for her holo. Sera's silver-white hair lifted. Dalia slowly removed the lollipop. Mandi looked at the device. Then at Sera. Then down the street. One person had noticed the woman stopping. Then another. Mandi sighed. "Well." Sera looked at her. "What?" Mandi's black eyes followed the first few heads beginning to turn. "The quiet part of the evening was nice." Dalia smiled. "Lasted longer than I expected." Sera looked around. Three more people were staring now. Someone whispered something to someone else. Another holo came out. Sera's eyes brightened. Not with alarm. Curiosity. Mandi saw it. "Oh, no." Sera looked down. "What?" Mandi pointed at her eyes. "That." "What?" "You're interested." Sera smiled. "I am." Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi sighed. "Fuck." The woman with the holo was approaching. And for the first time that evening, Sera wasn't merely standing on Jig-Jig Street. Jig-Jig Street had noticed Sera. --- # CHAPTER 7 — RECOGNITION The woman stopped a few steps away. She was still holding her holo. Not recording. Mandi checked. Good. The woman looked at Sera with the expression of someone whose brain had presented evidence and whose common sense had rejected it. "You're Sera." Sera smiled. "Yes." The woman looked at Mandi. Then Dalia. Then back at Sera. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Sera considered the question. "Looking." Mandi's mouth twitched. The woman blinked. "Looking." "Yes." "At Jig-Jig." "Yes." "Why?" Sera's hair moved softly around her shoulders. "I was curious." Mandi closed her eyes. Of course. Of fucking course. Dalia's lollipop shifted between her lips. The woman stared at Sera for another second. Then laughed. "Okay." Sera tilted her head. "Okay?" "That is the most Sera answer you could possibly have given." Mandi opened her eyes. Sera looked genuinely interested. "Is it?" "Yes." "Interesting." Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. Neither said anything. The woman finally seemed to remember the holo in her hand. She lowered it. "Sorry." "For what?" "I almost took a picture." Sera nodded. "But you didn't." "No." "Then it's fine." The woman hesitated. Her attention moved briefly toward the workers along the street. Then back to Sera. A different thought arrived. Mandi saw it. So did Dalia. The woman looked at Sera's couture. At Mandi. At Dalia. Then at Sera again. "Wait." Mandi sighed quietly. The woman stared. "Are you working?" Sera's eyes brightened. There it was again. This time from someone who knew exactly who she was. "Maybe." The woman laughed once in disbelief. "Seriously?" "Possibly." Mandi looked down at the pavement. Dalia touched her shoulder. Mandi whispered: "She's enjoying that word." "I know." The woman stepped slightly closer. "Okay. Hypothetically." Sera waited. "If you were working—" A pause. "—what would you charge?" Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi immediately shook her head. "Nope." The woman blinked. Mandi pointed at Sera. "Not answering for her." "Oh." Sera looked at Dalia. Dalia removed the lollipop. "Suzie gave you the answer." Sera nodded. Then looked back at the woman. "Seven figures." The woman's mouth opened. Nothing came out. Mandi felt something inside herself heal. Finally. A normal reaction. "Seven—" "Yes." The woman stared. "You're serious." Sera nodded. The woman looked at Mandi. Mandi spread her hands. "Don't look at me. I charge twenty-five thousand." Dalia closed her eyes. The woman looked at Mandi. Then Sera. Then Mandi again. Mandi frowned. "What?" "Nothing." "Don't you fucking start too." The woman laughed. Sera's hair lifted. Mandi pointed. "This street is hostile." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. The woman recovered. "So seven figures and you're working?" "No." That answer came instantly. The woman's expression changed. Sera continued. "Seven figures means I consider it." "Oh." "I still have to want to." The woman studied her. Then nodded. "Fair." Sera waited. The woman looked briefly thoughtful. Then smiled. "I can't afford you." Sera smiled back. "Okay." "Not even remotely." "That's okay too." "Can I still say this is fucking amazing?" "Yes." "This is fucking amazing." Sera laughed. "Thank you." The woman walked away. Mandi watched her go. Then looked up at Sera. "That went disturbingly well." Sera looked down. "What did you expect?" "I don't know." "That's reassuring." "Thank you." Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice came from beside them. "People aren't the problem yet." Mandi turned. "Yet?" Dalia gestured with the lollipop. "Look." Mandi looked. The street had changed. Not dramatically. Jig-Jig was still Jig-Jig. Music still thumped through the pavement. Workers still talked. Clients still moved. Nobody had stopped the city. But there were more eyes on them now. A lot more. Two people near a food stand were talking while looking directly at Sera. Someone farther away was clearly checking something on a holo. A man walking past looked at Sera, looked down at his screen, then looked back at Sera. Recognition spreading through verification. Mandi sighed. "Here we go." Sera watched. "How fast does this normally happen?" "Normally?" "Yes." Mandi pointed at herself. "I am not famous." Dalia looked down at her. Mandi stared back. "Professionally." Dalia's mouth curved. "Careful." "You know what I mean." "I do." Sera looked at Dalia. "Are you famous?" "No." Mandi answered for her. "Not yet." Dalia looked at her. Mandi shrugged. "You're hot, terrifying, and have a lollipop. Give Night City time." Dalia laughed. Then someone approached. A man this time. Older. Expensive clothes. Very expensive. Not flashy. Mandi noticed that first. Dalia noticed it at the same moment. Sera noticed their reaction. "What?" "Nothing," Mandi said. Sera looked down. Mandi sighed. "Fine. Money." Sera glanced toward the approaching man. "How much?" "No idea." "Then how do you know?" Dalia answered. "Clothes." Mandi added: "Watch." The man stopped at a polite distance. "Sera." "Hello." "I thought that was you." Sera smiled. "It is." His attention flicked briefly to Mandi and Dalia. Recognition of profession, perhaps. Not identity. Then back to Sera. "I heard something rather unlikely." Sera waited. "That you're taking bookings." "Maybe." Mandi muttered: "Goddammit." The man smiled. "I also heard the number." Sera's expression didn't change. "Did you?" "Seven figures." "That's the minimum." Mandi looked at the sky. Dalia patted her shoulder. The man didn't flinch. That was different. Mandi looked back at him. Interesting. He nodded. "Understood." Sera waited. "So may I make an offer?" "Yes." He sent something. Sera's eyes shifted slightly as the private figure appeared. Mandi deliberately did not look. Dalia didn't either. Sera studied it. Then looked at the man. "No, thank you." Mandi's attention snapped back. The man paused. Only briefly. "May I ask why?" Sera thought about that. "You may." He waited. Sera smiled. Mandi bit the inside of her cheek. The man understood. A quiet laugh escaped him. "Right." Sera's smile warmed. "Thank you for asking." "And thank you for considering it." He inclined his head. Then left. Sera watched him go. Mandi stared at her. "What?" "You just did that." "Did what?" "Turned down a seven-figure offer." Sera looked puzzled. "I didn't want it." Mandi opened her mouth. Closed it. Dalia looked at her. Mandi pointed at Sera. "No, I know. I know. That's exactly how it's supposed to work." "Then what's wrong?" "Economics." Dalia sighed. "Again?" "It hasn't stopped being economics." Sera looked toward the departing man. "He was nice." Mandi blinked. "Yes." "I still didn't want to." "Yes." "And that was easy too." Mandi's expression softened. There it was. The actual point. Not the number. Not the recognition. Not the absurdity. Sera had just been offered more for a single booking than most people on the street would see in— Mandi stopped herself. Didn't matter. Sera hadn't wanted him. So she'd said no. And nothing bad had happened. No argument. No bargaining. No wounded ego. He had left. Mandi smiled. "Good." Sera looked at her. "Good?" "Very." Dalia nodded. "That's what Suzie meant." Sera looked toward the Mox presence farther down the street. Then back at the crowd. "I think I understand." Mandi raised one finger. "Part of it." Sera smiled. "Part of it." Someone nearby whispered: "She said no." Mandi's head turned. Two women stood several meters away. One was staring at Sera. The other at a holo. "What did he offer?" "I don't know." "I heard seven figures." "No fucking way." "He just walked." "Maybe he lowballed her." Mandi's eyes narrowed. Dalia heard it too. Sera did as well. The second woman looked up. "Someone said it's a million minimum." The first shook her head. "No. Someone else said several." Mandi slowly turned toward Sera. Sera looked down at her. "What?" "It's been approximately thirty seconds." Sera looked toward the women. Another person had joined their conversation. Then another. Dalia removed the lollipop. "Light speed." Mandi sighed. "No. Light has a speed limit." Sera's hair lifted. Another holo pinged. Then Sera's did. She looked at it. A message. Then another. Then three more. Mandi stared. "What?" Sera scrolled. "My agent." "What does your agent want?" Sera read. Her eyebrows rose. "What?" "Apparently someone asked whether bookings can be arranged through the studio." Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia started laughing. Sera's holo pinged again. And again. And again. Mandi opened her eyes. "How many?" Sera looked at the screen. "I don't know." "That's not reassuring." "More are arriving." Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia was still laughing. "This isn't funny." "It is a little." Sera's holo pinged again. Mandi pointed at it. "Turn that off." Sera looked at her. "Why?" "Because I can hear capitalism accelerating." Dalia laughed harder. Sera muted the holo. The silence lasted less than a second. A man ten meters away called: "Sera!" All three turned. "Are you actually working?" Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi stared back. Sera looked at Dalia. Dalia put the lollipop between her lips. Then Sera turned toward the man. "Maybe." A cheer went up from somebody Mandi couldn't even identify. Mandi covered her face. "Oh, fuck me." Dalia's voice came beside her. "Later." Mandi lowered her hands. Sera's eyes went bright. Mandi stared at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Around them, Jig-Jig was beginning to buzz. Not because Sera had accepted anyone. She hadn't. Not because anyone knew what she charged. They didn't. Not really. Not because she had announced anything. She hadn't. The rumor had almost nothing solid to work with. Sera was here. Sera might be working. Seven figures might get you considered. And someone had already offered enough to qualify. She had said no. That was apparently all Night City needed. Mandi looked down the street. More people were looking their way. Not a crowd. Not yet. But movement had begun. People slowing. People checking holos. People talking. People changing direction. Dalia followed her gaze. "Problem?" Mandi thought about it. Then looked up at Sera. Sera was watching the street with open fascination. Not overwhelmed. Not frightened. Curious. Mandi sighed. "Not yet." Sera looked down. "What happens next?" Mandi stared at her. Dalia laughed softly. Mandi pointed at Sera. "Do not ask questions like that in Night City." "Why?" "Because it takes them as a challenge." Sera smiled. And somewhere behind them, someone said: "I heard she turned down two million." Mandi froze. Dalia froze. Sera looked over her shoulder. Mandi turned slowly. "Nobody knows what he offered." The speaker shrugged. "That's what I heard." "It happened two minutes ago!" Another voice answered: "I heard three." Mandi stared at Dalia. Dalia removed the lollipop. "Light speed." Mandi shook her head. "Faster." Sera's silver-white hair rose softly around her shoulders. Her eyes brightened. Mandi saw it. Then saw the next person approaching. And the next. She sighed. "Okay." Dalia looked at her. "Okay what?" Mandi watched Jig-Jig reorganizing itself around a rumor less than five minutes old. "The quiet part is definitely over." --- # CHAPTER 8 — PROFESSIONALS The quiet part being over did not mean Mandi and Dalia stopped working. If anything, it meant they finally started. Sera noticed the change before anyone approached them. It was subtle. Mandi didn't become someone else. Neither did Dalia. But both shifted. Attention widened. Posture changed. Their awareness of the street became effortless in a way Sera hadn't fully appreciated while merely watching them walk through it. Mandi adjusted the waistband of her shorts. Once. Checked the line of one leg. Looked up. Dalia rolled the menthol lollipop slowly across her tongue, then settled it against one cheek. Sera watched. Mandi caught her. "What?" "Nothing." Mandi stared. Sera smiled. "I'm learning." "That sentence is becoming threatening." Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice came from beside them. "It was threatening from breakfast." "Thank you." "You're welcome." A pair of men approached. Mandi saw them. Dalia saw them. Sera saw Mandi and Dalia see them. That was interesting. Neither joytoy moved toward them. Neither called out. They simply waited. The men slowed. One looked at Mandi. The other at Dalia. Then both looked at Sera. Mandi sighed. "No." The first man blinked. "I didn't ask anything." "Sorry. Reflex." Dalia laughed. Sera's hair lifted. The second man looked more closely at Sera. Recognition began. Mandi saw it. "Oh, come on." The man pointed. "Are you—" "Yes," Sera said. He stared. His friend stared. Dalia removed the lollipop. "Good evening." The first man's attention returned to her. That worked. Immediately. Sera noticed that too. Dalia didn't need to pull attention. She redirected it. "Working?" the man asked. Dalia smiled. "Yes." Mandi looked at the other. "So am I." The men exchanged a glance. The second looked at Sera again. "And her?" Mandi didn't answer. Dalia didn't answer. Sera smiled. "Maybe." The man stared. Mandi muttered: "Of course." The first man laughed. Then looked back at Mandi and Dalia. "Together?" Mandi's professional smile appeared. "If that's what you're looking for." There. Sera saw it. Not submission. Not performance replacing self. Invitation. A door deliberately opened. The men stepped closer. Conversation became quieter. Rates were discussed. Preferences. Time. Boundaries. Sera listened without pretending not to. Nobody minded. Mandi caught her eye once. Sera expected a joke. Instead Mandi gave her the smallest smile. Watch. So Sera did. The negotiation took less time than she'd expected. Not rushed. Efficient. The two men knew what they wanted. Mandi and Dalia knew what they offered. Nobody needed to make the conversation more complicated than it was. Then one of the men looked at Sera again. "You coming?" Sera blinked. Mandi said nothing. Dalia said nothing. Sera considered him. "No." He nodded. "Okay." That easy. Again. Sera smiled. "Have fun." Mandi stared at her. Dalia bit the inside of her cheek. The first man laughed. "We intend to." Mandi pointed at Sera. "Do not go anywhere." Sera's eyebrows rose. Mandi immediately caught herself. "No. Wrong." Dalia was openly laughing now. Mandi tried again. "Are you staying around here?" "Yes." "Good." She pointed toward the Mox presence. "If anything—" "Mandi." Sera's tone was gentle. Mandi stopped. "I know." Mandi looked at her. Then sighed. "I know you know." Sera smiled. "Go work." Both men looked amused. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi stared up at Sera. "You enjoyed saying that." "A little." "Menace." Sera bent down and kissed her. Brief. Warm. Then she straightened and kissed Dalia too. Dalia's hand touched her waist for a moment. Sera's hair lifted. One of the men watched. Then looked at Mandi. "Your girlfriend?" Mandi smiled. "One of them." The man processed that. Then wisely decided no further explanation was required. Dalia gestured toward the nearby entrance. "Shall we?" They left. Sera watched them go. And then she was alone. Not actually alone. Mox remained nearby. The street remained full. Mandi and Dalia were only minutes away. But for the first time since they'd arrived, neither stood beside her. Sera looked around. The experience changed again. Immediately. People looked at her differently without Mandi and Dalia framing her. She was no longer obviously accompanying two working joytoys. She was simply— Sera. Standing on Jig-Jig. In white couture. Possibly working. Apparently charging seven figures merely to consider a booking. Sera understood why Mandi had been worried. Someone approached within thirty seconds. A woman. Elegant. Confident. Perhaps forty. She stopped in front of Sera. "I heard you're working." Sera smiled. "Maybe." The woman laughed. "So that part's true." "What part?" "The maybe." Sera considered that. "Yes." "And seven figures?" "Also yes." The woman looked impressed rather than surprised. "Can I make an offer?" "Yes." A figure appeared privately. Sera looked at it. Then at the woman. The amount qualified. That was all Sera intended to learn from it. The woman was attractive. Very. Poised. Her eyes were steady. She wasn't drunk. Sera considered. And discovered something useful. "No, thank you." The woman's eyebrows rose. "Not enough?" "No." That seemed to surprise her. Sera smiled. "I don't want to." Understanding arrived. "Ah." "Sorry." "Don't be." The woman gave her another look. Not offended. Perhaps more interested than before. "Maybe another night." "Maybe." The woman laughed. "You're dangerous." Sera tilted her head. "Am I?" "Yes." She walked away. Sera watched her go. Two nearby people had clearly been listening. One whispered: "She offered over a million." The other stared. "How do you know?" "I saw her face." "That doesn't mean—" "She still said no." Sera turned her attention elsewhere. A minute later, another offer came. No. Then another. No. One man approached already talking about money. Sera disliked that immediately. No. A younger woman made her laugh before mentioning anything transactional. Sera considered her longer. Still no. A couple approached together. Interesting. Sera spoke with them for several minutes. They were warm. Affectionate. Clearly comfortable with each other. Sera liked them. She still said no. And every no became easier. Not because she stopped caring about the people asking. The opposite. She was beginning to understand what she was choosing. Not money. Not validation. Not novelty by itself. A person. A moment. Something she actually wanted. Suzie's seven-figure rule filtered the unserious offers. Sera filtered everything else. She liked that. Her holo remained muted. When she finally checked it, there were so many notifications that she stared for several seconds. Messages. Requests. Questions. Her agent. More requests. Someone apparently asking whether the studio could provide a private booking calendar. Sera frowned. "No." "That's what I've been saying." Sera looked up. Mandi was back. Her neon-orange hair was slightly disordered. She looked extremely pleased with herself. Dalia walked beside her, lollipop absent for the moment, neon-pink hair equally less perfect than before. Sera smiled. "Hello." Mandi stopped in front of her. "How many?" Sera thought. "Offers?" "Yes." "I don't know." Mandi's black eyes narrowed. "How do you not know?" "I stopped counting." Dalia laughed. Mandi looked wounded. "Of course you did." Sera looked them over. "You had fun." Mandi's expression changed instantly. "Yes." Dalia smiled. "Very much." Sera's eyes brightened. Mandi noticed. "No." "What?" "You're doing the face." "I don't have a face." "You absolutely have a face." Dalia retrieved another menthol lollipop from somewhere in her clothing. Sera watched. Mandi noticed that too. "Do not encourage her." "I didn't do anything." "You watched her get a lollipop." "Yes." "With interest." "Yes." Mandi looked at Dalia. "This is your fault." Dalia unwrapped it. "How?" "I don't know yet." She put it into her mouth. Sera's hair lifted. Mandi pointed. "See?" Dalia smiled. Mandi turned back to Sera. "Any yes?" "No." Mandi's teasing disappeared. "Okay." No disappointment. No surprise. Just okay. Sera noticed. Dalia asked: "Any close?" Sera thought about the younger woman. Then the couple. "Two." Mandi nodded. "What stopped you?" Sera considered the question. "I didn't want to enough." Mandi smiled. "Good answer." Sera looked between them. "How do you know?" "Know what?" "When you want to enough." Mandi opened her mouth. Stopped. Dalia answered. "You stop asking yourself whether you do." Sera turned toward her. Dalia leaned one hip against the wall. "If I'm still trying to convince myself, the answer is no." Sera absorbed that. Mandi nodded. "Same." "What if you're nervous?" "Different thing." "How?" Mandi thought. "Nervous can still pull you forward." Dalia nodded. "Uncertain usually holds you back." Sera looked down the street. People. Offers. Possibilities. "Interesting." Mandi groaned. Dalia laughed. Sera looked down. "What?" "That word." "What about it?" "Every time you say 'interesting,' my life gets worse." "That's not true." "Collector." Sera paused. Mandi held up another finger. "Crystal Palace." Another. "That painting you said would only take two days." Sera's mouth twitched. "It took six." "It took eleven." "I was working on it for six." "You spent five days staring at it." "That was part of the work." Mandi looked at Dalia. "Artists." Dalia nodded solemnly. "Terrible." Sera's eyes brightened. Then a voice came from nearby. "Excuse me." All three turned. A man stood several steps away. Not the loudest person who had approached. Not the richest-looking. Not trying to impress anyone. He looked perhaps a little older than Mandi had expected the eventual serious contenders to be. Well dressed. Calm. His hands were visible. His attention was on Sera. Not her clothes. Not her body first. Her face. "Sera?" "Yes." "I'd like to talk, if that's all right." Sera looked at him. Then at Mandi. Mandi's expression remained neutral. Her choice. Sera looked back. "All right." The man approached. Not too close. "I heard you're considering bookings." "Maybe." A small smile. "I heard that too." Sera smiled back. Mandi glanced at Dalia. Dalia's eyes had sharpened. Not alarm. Assessment. The man continued. "I assume you've had a ridiculous number of offers already." "Several." Mandi made a noise. Sera looked down. "What?" "Several?" "I stopped counting." The man laughed. Mandi pointed at him. "See? He understands." Sera's hair lifted. The man looked briefly at Mandi. "Mandi?" Mandi blinked. "You know me?" "I asked." That changed something. Not much. Enough. His gaze moved to Dalia. "And Dalia." Dalia removed the lollipop. "Good evening." "Good evening." Then back to Sera. "I don't want to waste your time." Sera waited. He sent an offer. Private. Sera looked at it. Stopped. Mandi saw her stop. Dalia saw it too. Neither tried to look at the figure. Sera looked at the man. Then back at the offer. Then at him again. "Is that normal?" Mandi frowned. "What?" Sera turned the display just enough that Mandi could see. Mandi looked. Went completely still. Dalia leaned slightly closer. Saw it. Removed the lollipop from her mouth. "Absolutely fucking not." Sera looked between them. "So no?" Mandi's head snapped up. "No! I mean—" She pointed at the figure. "That is not normal." "Oh." "That is aggressively not normal." The man waited. He didn't interrupt. Didn't sell himself. Didn't increase it. Sera noticed that. Dalia did too. Mandi looked at the figure again. Then at Sera. "This doesn't mean you should say yes." "I know." "Good." Mandi stepped back. Immediately. The number ceased to matter. Sera looked at the man. "Why?" He seemed to understand the question. "Why that much?" "Yes." "Because you're Sera." Sera waited. "And because if the stories I've heard in the last half hour are even remotely accurate, money doesn't buy a yes from you." Mandi's eyebrows rose. Dalia slowly smiled. The man continued. "So I thought I'd make sure money wasn't the reason for a no." Sera stared at him. That was— Interesting. Mandi saw the change in her face. "Oh, fuck." Sera glanced down. "What?" Mandi shook her head. "Nothing." Sera's eyes narrowed. Mandi sighed. "Your face." "I don't have a face." "Yes, you fucking do." The man laughed quietly. Sera looked back at him. "What's your name?" He told her. Sera repeated it once. Then: "What do you want?" He answered. Simply. No performance. No list designed to shock. No attempt to make the amount justify entitlement. Sera asked another question. He answered that too. Then another. Mandi and Dalia gradually stopped listening to the specifics. Not because they weren't paying attention. Because the conversation belonged to Sera. They watched her instead. The angle of her shoulders. The way her hair moved. The subtle brightening of her eyes. Not attraction alone. Interest. Comfort. Choice forming in real time. Sera asked: "If I change my mind?" "You change your mind." "If I stop?" "We stop." No hesitation. Sera looked toward the Mox guard farther down the street. Then back at him. "All right." The man waited. Sera smiled. "Yes." Mandi froze. Dalia froze. The street did not. Music continued. People talked. Neon burned. Somebody laughed somewhere behind them. But for the three women, there was a tiny moment of complete stillness. Sera had said yes. Her first one. Not because the offer had been enormous. It had. Not because Mandi or Dalia approved. They hadn't answered for her once. Not because she'd come to Jig-Jig intending to prove anything. She hadn't. She wanted to. That was enough. Mandi's expression softened. "Okay." Sera looked down at her. "Okay?" Mandi smiled. "Yeah." Dalia stepped closer. "Still sure?" Sera looked at the man. Then back at Dalia. "Yes." Dalia smiled. "Then have fun." Sera's hair lifted. Mandi pointed at her. "And—" Dalia caught Mandi around the waist. Mandi stopped. Looked up. Dalia raised one eyebrow. Mandi sighed. "Right." She looked at Sera. "No briefing." Sera smiled. "Thank you." Mandi stepped closer and pulled her down into a kiss. Warm. Slow. No joke in it. When she released her, Sera's electric-blue eyes were brighter. Dalia kissed her next. Sera's hand touched Dalia's cheek. Then they separated. Mandi looked up. "We'll be around." "I know." Sera smiled. Then she turned to the man. "Let's go." They started walking. Mandi watched them. Dalia stood beside her. Neither spoke until Sera disappeared through the nearby entrance with him. Then Mandi inhaled. Slowly. Exhaled. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi looked up. "How much did he offer?" Dalia stared at her. Mandi held up both hands. "I know. I know." "Do you?" "Yes." A beat. "Twenty-five thousand is a very good rate." Dalia's eyes closed. Mandi pointed after Sera. "I worked my way up to that." Dalia started laughing. A few meters away, somebody whispered: "She said yes." Mandi stopped. Dalia stopped laughing. Another voice: "Sera took a booking." Someone else: "How much?" "I heard five million." "No fucking way." "Someone said nine." Mandi slowly turned toward Dalia. Dalia removed the lollipop again. Neither said anything. A holo pinged nearby. Then another. Someone hurried past them in the direction Sera had gone. Mandi stared. "Oh, no." Dalia looked down the street. People were already talking. Already checking screens. Already inventing numbers. Already turning rumor into fact and fact into something larger. Mandi covered her face. "She has worked exactly zero minutes." Dalia laughed. "And she's already a legend." From somewhere in the crowd: "I heard someone offered ten and she turned him down." Mandi dropped her hands. "THAT DIDN'T EVEN HAPPEN." Nobody listened. Dalia put an arm around her shoulders. Mandi stared into the accelerating social catastrophe. Then sighed. "Okay." Dalia looked at her. "What?" Mandi pointed toward the street. "Now it's a fucking circus." --- # CHAPTER 9 — FIRST YES The room was quieter than Sera expected. That was her first thought. Jig-Jig remained outside the door. Muted bass came faintly through the walls, enough to remind her where she was without following them inside. The man closed the door. Then stopped. He didn't approach her. Sera noticed. She stood near the center of the room in impossible white couture, silver-white hair falling around her shoulders, electric-blue eyes studying him. For several seconds neither spoke. Then he smiled. "Nervous?" Sera considered the question honestly. "A little." "Want to leave?" "No." The answer came easily. That interested her. He nodded. "Good." Sera tilted her head. "Good that I'm nervous?" "Good that you know you don't want to leave." "Oh." He waited. Sera smiled. "I like that answer." "I was hoping you would." She looked around. Bed. Chair. Soft lighting. Nothing extraordinary. No strange machinery. No theatrical attempt at seduction. A room. Private. Clean. Safe. She looked back at him. "What happens now?" His eyebrows rose. "You tell me." Sera laughed softly. "That's inconvenient." "Why?" "I was hoping you knew." "I know what I'd like." "That's different." "It is." Sera walked closer. Not all the way. Just enough to change the distance between them. "What would you like?" He told her. Simply. The same basic answer he'd given outside. Touch. Kissing. Sex, if she still wanted it when they reached that point. Nothing Sera found frightening. Nothing she found particularly strange. She watched his face while he spoke. He wasn't reciting a purchase. That mattered. When he finished, Sera asked: "And if I want something different?" "Tell me." "If I want more?" "Tell me." "If I want less?" "Tell me." Sera smiled. "You keep giving the correct answers." He laughed. "I'm trying very hard." "Because I'm Sera?" "Partly." That surprised a laugh out of her. "Honest." "You seem like you'd notice if I wasn't." "I would." "I thought so." Sera took another step. Now she was close. He looked up at her. That amused her. Most people did. Her fingers touched the front of his jacket. She felt him inhale. There. A reaction. Because of her. Not because of the number he'd transferred. Not because of the story spreading outside. Her. Sera's eyes brightened slightly. "May I?" He nodded. "Yes." She opened his jacket. Slowly. Not because she thought a joytoy was supposed to do it slowly. Because she wanted to watch him react. That distinction suddenly seemed important. She slid the jacket from his shoulders. He let her. Sera looked at it. Then at the chair. Then folded it neatly over the back. He laughed. She turned. "What?" "Nothing." "That was something." "I wasn't expecting you to fold my jacket." "It was expensive." "So was the booking." Sera stared at him. He froze. Then: "That sounded better in my head." Sera's mouth twitched. "Much better?" "Considerably." She laughed. The tension broke. Not all of it. Enough. He smiled. Sera stepped close again. This time she touched his face. Her thumb moved once along his cheek. Then she bent. Their first kiss was careful. His hand settled lightly at her waist. Sera noticed the touch. Noticed that he didn't pull. Didn't claim. Just rested his hand there. She kissed him again. Longer. His other hand joined the first. Sera's hair began to lift softly around her shoulders. When she drew back, he stared at it. "What?" "Your hair." Sera reached up. Several silver-white strands were floating away from her neck. "Oh." "Does it always do that?" "Sometimes." "When?" Sera thought. Then smiled. "I'm enjoying myself." His expression changed. That reaction was worth remembering. "Good." Sera kissed him again. This time he met her halfway. Better. Much better. She let herself stop analyzing for several seconds. His hands moved along her waist. Hers explored his shoulders. Chest. Back. She learned him through touch. Not clinically. Curiously. When his fingers reached an edge of her couture, he stopped. Sera felt it. Opened her eyes. He waited. She understood. "Yes." Only then did he continue. Fabric shifted. Sera helped. The couture had not been designed for Jig-Jig. That became obvious almost immediately. One structural fold caught somewhere it absolutely should not have caught. Sera stopped. He stopped instantly. She looked down. He looked down. Sera pulled gently. Nothing. Again. Nothing. She frowned. "This is inconvenient." He bit his lip. Sera looked at him. "Are you laughing?" "No." "You are." "A little." Sera looked down at several thousand eddies worth of avant-garde engineering refusing to cooperate. "I designed this." "That makes it worse." She looked at him. He lost the battle and laughed. Sera did too. The absurdity dissolved the last of her nervousness. "Wait." She found the concealed release. One section loosened. Then another. The white structure softened around her. "There." "Artist." "Yes." "You built a dress with an emergency exit." "It's not a dress." He looked at the garment. Then at her. "Of course it isn't." Sera kissed him before he could say anything else. Harder this time. He responded immediately. The white couture gradually came away. Not thrown. Not forgotten. Sera still cared about it. But considerably less than she'd cared five minutes earlier. His clothes followed. Touch became easier. Warmer. Skin replacing fabric. The room seemed smaller. Sera's attention narrowed. She was still aware of where she was. Still aware this was a booking. Still aware a number with seven figures had started the conversation. But the number had become strangely irrelevant. He kissed her neck. Sera inhaled sharply. Her fingers tightened against his shoulder. He stopped. "Good?" "Yes." "Sure?" Sera looked at him. Then guided him back. "Again." He smiled against her skin. The second time she was ready for it. That did not make the reaction smaller. Her electric-blue eyes brightened. Silver-white hair lifted farther around her shoulders, several strands floating as though gravity had become optional. His hand moved along her side. Sera closed her eyes. There. Something clicked. Not pleasure itself. She knew pleasure. She knew intimacy. She knew lovers. This was different. She had chosen a stranger. He had chosen her. They had negotiated the shape of the encounter. And now the negotiation had disappeared beneath something immediate and physical without ever ceasing to matter. She understood the safety beneath it. The permission. The possibility of stopping. And because stopping remained available— continuing felt different. Sera opened her eyes. "Bed." He looked at her. "Yes?" "Yes." That made him smile. They moved together. Sera sat first. Then shifted backward. He followed only when she reached for him. Good. She liked that. She pulled him down into another kiss. The next several minutes unfolded without hurry. Hands learning. Bodies repositioning. Small questions. Small answers. A laugh when Sera's hair brushed his face and stayed floating there. Another when he tried to move it aside and static pulled several strands back toward his fingers. Eventually the humor softened. The pauses became shorter. Sera's breathing changed. So did his. She knew where this was going. The knowledge didn't frighten her. It pulled her forward. Nervous. Yes. But Dalia had been right. Nervous could pull forward. Uncertainty held back. Sera wasn't holding back anymore. She touched his face. "Yes." He understood what she meant. Still he asked. "Sure?" Sera smiled. "Yes." He entered her carefully. Sera's breath caught. Not pain. Adjustment. Newness of context more than sensation. He stopped immediately. Sera held him there. For a moment neither moved. Her eyes remained open. His did too. She felt the stillness. Felt her own choice inside it. Then her hand moved along his back. "Okay." He moved. Slowly at first. The first movement was mostly adjustment. The next changed Sera's expression before she could stop it. Her eyes closed for a beat. Her fingers tightened against his back. A quiet sound escaped her. Small. Unplanned. Pleasure, clear enough to interrupt the analysis before it had properly restarted. Sera exhaled. Again. She adjusted beneath him. Found a better angle. Her legs shifted around him. He followed her rather than forcing a rhythm. That mattered too. Sera kissed him. Movement continued. Pleasure gathered gradually. Not explosively. Warmth first. Then pressure. Then the strange, wonderful narrowing of thought where observation became harder because sensation kept interrupting it. Sera laughed once against his mouth. He slowed. "What?" "I keep trying to analyze this." "How's that going?" Sera's eyes brightened. "Poorly." "Good." She laughed again. Then his next movement stole the laugh before it fully formed. "Oh." He stopped. Sera immediately tightened her legs around him. "Don't." He smiled. "Correct answer?" "Yes." He continued. Sera stopped trying to understand. For a while. Her body did not require a theory. It responded. She moved with him. Found rhythm. Changed it. Discovered she liked being able to guide without needing to explain every adjustment. His hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined against the bed. That surprised her. She liked that too. The pleasure built. Sera's silver-white hair lifted farther, spreading across the pillow in weightless strands. Her eyes glowed brighter when she opened them. He stared. Sera noticed. "Don't stop." "I wasn't planning to." "Good." The rhythm continued. Sera's breathing became uneven. Her free hand tightened against his back. Something in her was approaching a point she knew very well. The context remained new. The destination wasn't. She let herself go toward it. No analysis. No wondering what Mandi would do. No wondering what Dalia would do. No wondering what Sera was supposed to do. Only what she wanted. Her body tightened. She gasped. The pleasure crested through her in a long shudder that stole movement from her for several seconds. He slowed but didn't pull away. Sera held him close. Eyes closed. Hair floating. Breathing gradually returning. Stillness. There. The small quiet after. She understood why that mattered too. When she finally opened her eyes, he was watching her. Sera smiled. "Hello." He laughed softly. "Hello." She kissed him. Gentler now. Then rested her forehead against his. For a while they stayed like that. No urgency. No transaction demanding the room back immediately. Just two people breathing. Eventually Sera said: "I think I understand something." He smiled. "About Jig-Jig?" "Yes." "Was I educational?" Sera considered him. "Very." He laughed. She did too. They remained together a little longer. Eventually bodies separated. Sera felt the absence immediately. Not regret. Just change. She stretched. Then sat up. Her hair slowly began settling. The electric brightness in her eyes softened. He watched. "That's incredible." Sera looked at him. "What?" "All of you." Sera smiled. "Thank you." He sat up beside her. "Was that your first booking?" Sera turned. "Yes." His eyes widened. "Seriously?" "Yes." He stared. Then looked vaguely alarmed. "Should I have known that?" "Would it have changed anything?" He thought. "No." "Then probably not." "Fair." Sera stood. Then immediately looked toward the chair. Her couture. She walked over. Picked it up. Stopped. One structural element was bent. Sera stared. The man noticed. "Is that bad?" Sera examined it. "Possibly." "Expensive?" "Yes." He winced. Sera looked at him. Then smiled. "Worth it." His expression changed. Sera began dressing. This time the couture fought her less. Mostly. He dressed too. The room gradually returned to what it had been. Except Sera didn't. Not entirely. When she finished, she looked at herself in the mirror. White couture. Silver-white hair, still slightly charged. Electric-blue eyes. Sera. Exactly Sera. She smiled at her reflection. The man came to stand behind her, leaving comfortable distance between them. "So." Sera met his eyes through the mirror. "So." "Did you find what you were curious about?" Sera thought. "Part of it." His eyebrows rose. "Only part?" Sera smiled. "Yes." He laughed. "That sounds dangerous." "So people keep telling me." She turned. He offered his hand. Sera looked at it. Then took it. "Thank you," he said. Sera's expression softened. "Thank you." He released her. Sera walked to the door. Her hand reached the control. Stopped. She looked back. "One question." "Sure." "Would you have offered that much if you didn't know who I was?" He laughed. "No." Sera nodded. "Good." "Good?" "I wanted an honest answer." "You got one." She smiled. Then opened the door. Jig-Jig hit her again. Music. Voices. Neon. Movement. And— A lot of people. Sera stopped. There were considerably more people nearby than when she'd gone inside. Several turned immediately. Someone whispered: "That's her." Another: "She's out." A third: "How long was that?" Sera blinked. Then found Mandi. The neon-orange hair made that easy. Mandi stood perhaps fifteen meters away with her arms folded. Dalia stood beside her, lollipop in her mouth. Both were staring at the crowd. Sera walked toward them. Heads turned with her. Mandi saw her coming. Her expression softened instantly. Forget the crowd. Forget the rumors. Forget the money. She looked Sera over. "Okay?" Sera smiled. "Yes." Dalia removed the lollipop. "Good?" Sera's eyes brightened. "Very." Mandi grinned. There. That was all she needed. Then Sera looked around. "Why are there people waiting?" Mandi's smile disappeared. Dalia looked away. Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi looked at the crowd. Then back at Sera. "Well." "What happened?" "You worked." "Yes." "Once." "Yes." Mandi pointed at the crowd. "Apparently that was enough." Sera frowned. "For what?" Someone nearby called: "SERA!" She turned. "ARE YOU TAKING ANOTHER?" Another voice immediately: "WHAT'S THE RATE?" Then: "I HEARD THE FIRST WAS THREE MILLION!" Someone else shouted: "BULLSHIT, IT WAS SIX!" The man Sera had just left stopped behind her. Sera looked back at him. He looked at the crowd. Then at Sera. Then wisely said absolutely nothing. Mandi pointed at him. "Thank you." He nodded. "My pleasure." Sera's hair lifted. Mandi stared. "Poor choice of words." The man laughed and disappeared into the crowd. Sera looked back at Mandi. "Nobody knows what he offered." "I know." "Then why are they saying numbers?" Mandi spread both hands. "Night City." Sera considered that. Another voice called: "I'LL DOUBLE WHATEVER HE PAID!" Sera looked toward it. "No." Silence. Briefly. Then somebody laughed. Another voice: "HOW MUCH?" Sera thought. "Seven figures." The crowd reacted. Mandi covered her face. Dalia started laughing. Sera looked at her. "What?" Dalia shook her head. "Nothing." Mandi lowered her hands. "No. We're banning that word." "Which word?" "Seven." Sera blinked. "That's a number." "Not anymore." Dalia laughed harder. Sera looked around again. People were still watching her. Waiting. Offers ready. Questions. Interest. Possibility. Her first instinct wasn't fear. It wasn't retreat. It wasn't even disbelief. Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi saw it immediately. "No." Sera tilted her head. "I haven't said anything." "You don't need to." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi pointed at Sera's eyes. "You're doing it again." "What?" "Interesting." Sera smiled. "I didn't say interesting." "Your face did." "I don't have a face." Mandi looked at Dalia. "Help." Dalia considered Sera. Then Mandi. "No." "Betrayal." Sera laughed. Then looked once more at the people waiting. She had come to Jig-Jig wanting to understand why Mandi and Dalia kept returning. She understood part of it now. Choice. Safety. Being wanted. Wanting back. The strange pleasure of meeting someone at the edge between transaction and intimacy and discovering something genuine could still happen there. Part of it. Only part. Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. Mandi groaned. "Oh, fuck." Sera looked down at her. "What?" "You want another one." Sera considered the question. This time the answer didn't require much thought. "Not yet." Mandi blinked. "Not yet?" Sera smiled. "I want to watch you work again first." Mandi stared. Dalia slowly removed the lollipop. Sera looked between them. "What?" Mandi sighed. "Nothing." Sera's smile widened. "That wasn't nothing." "No." Mandi looked at the crowd. Then at Dalia. Then back at Sera. "Come on." "Where?" Mandi's professional smile returned. "Apparently our seven-figure girlfriend wants another lesson." Sera's hair lifted. Dalia laughed. And the three women stepped back into the neon together. --- # CHAPTER 10 — LIGHT SPEED Finding another client for Mandi and Dalia took approximately twelve seconds. Mandi found this offensive. Not the client. The timing. She had barely finished telling Sera that she wanted to show her what experienced joytoy work looked like from the outside when a woman approached, looked directly at Mandi and Dalia, and said: "Either of you available?" Mandi stared. Dalia smiled. "Both." The woman looked between them. "Together?" "If you'd like." The woman's smile widened. "I would." Mandi glanced at Sera. Sera was already watching. Of course she was. Mandi sighed. "Okay." The woman looked at her. "Problem?" "No." Mandi pointed at Sera. "Student." Sera tilted her head. Dalia closed her eyes. The woman looked at Sera. Recognition struck. "Oh, fuck." Mandi nodded. "Yes." "You're—" "Yes," Sera said. The woman stared. Then looked back at Mandi. "Student?" "Not literally." Dalia removed the lollipop. "She's curious." The woman's expression changed. "About?" Mandi gestured at herself. "This." The woman looked from Mandi to Dalia. Then Sera. Then back. "That's..." She searched. "Different." "Welcome to my day." Sera smiled. The woman looked at her. "Are you watching?" "If nobody minds." The woman considered that. Then something mischievous entered her expression. "I don't." Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Mandi knew that smile. "No." Dalia looked innocent. "I didn't say anything." "You were about to." "Was I?" "Yes." Sera's hair lifted. Mandi pointed at both of them. "Professionals." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. The woman laughed. Negotiation followed. Sera listened again. This time she understood more. She understood why some questions came early. Why others waited. How Mandi could be playful while remaining extremely precise. How Dalia could make a simple question sound like an invitation without changing what was actually being asked. The woman knew what she wanted. Both. Time agreed. Rate agreed. Everything simple. Then she looked at Sera. "You're really just watching?" Sera thought. "For now." Mandi's head dropped. The woman laughed. Dalia put one hand on Mandi's shoulder. Mandi looked up. "Not one word." Dalia's lollipop shifted. Mandi narrowed her black eyes. "Not even around the lollipop." Sera smiled. The woman asked: "Coming?" Sera looked at Mandi. Mandi shrugged. "Your choice." Sera looked at Dalia. Dalia nodded. Then Sera looked at the woman. "Yes." Watching through a doorway would have been pointless. Sera discovered that almost immediately. Not because she couldn't have learned something from it. Because Mandi and Dalia didn't perform toward her. Once the room became private, their attention belonged to the woman who had hired them. That was the lesson. Sera sat in a chair near one wall. White couture restored as well as she'd been able to restore it. Long legs crossed. Hands relaxed. Silent. Watching. The woman stood between Mandi and Dalia. And Mandi changed. Not identity. Focus. Her teasing became intimate rather than public. The same smile Sera had seen outside became smaller. Closer. Directed at one person. Dalia changed too. She slowed. The lollipop disappeared onto a nearby surface. Her attention sharpened. The woman laughed at something Mandi whispered. Dalia touched her waist. The laugh softened. Sera watched. Interesting. Mandi looked toward her. Only for an instant. Caught the word without hearing it. Her eyes narrowed. Sera smiled. Mandi returned to work. The three women moved gradually toward the bed. Nothing hurried. Nothing uncertain. Sera watched how often Mandi looked at the woman's face. Not body. Face. Reaction. Dalia did the same. They weren't following a script. They were reading. Adjusting. The woman pulled Mandi into a kiss. Mandi went willingly. Dalia remained close. One hand moved along the woman's back. Sera's hair lifted. She noticed. Ignored it. This was different from her own booking. Of course it was. She had spent much of her first encounter thinking. Mandi and Dalia didn't appear to think at all. But Sera knew them. They were thinking constantly. It simply wasn't visible. Experience had moved the work underneath everything else. The woman reached for Dalia. Dalia bent into the kiss. Mandi's hands remained on the woman. Three people. No competition for attention. No confusion. Attention circulated. Sera's eyes brightened. She understood another piece. Mandi had said professional. This was what she meant. Not detached. Not mechanical. Competent enough that competence stopped showing. Eventually clothes began to move. The woman glanced toward Sera. Sera held her gaze. No embarrassment. No judgment. The woman smiled. Sera smiled back. That seemed to please her. Mandi noticed. Of course she did. "Don't encourage her." The woman laughed. Sera blinked. "I didn't do anything." Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice came softly: "That's what she always says." Sera's hair lifted farther. Mandi pointed. "Evidence." Then the woman's hand caught Mandi's collar and pulled her back into a kiss. Mandi's objection disappeared. Sera laughed softly. The woman drew Dalia down with her as they reached the bed. Then she reached for Mandi. Mandi came because she had been asked. That was another thing Sera noticed. Dalia kissed the woman's shoulder. Mandi watched her face. "Still both?" The woman's answer was immediate. "Yes." Mandi smiled. "Good." She moved lower. Not hurried. Not theatrical. When she settled between the woman's legs, she looked up instead of assuming the next step. The woman met her eyes. Nodded once. "Yes." Mandi bent to her. The first contact broke the woman's breathing. Her hand caught in Mandi's neon-orange hair. Not pulling her away. Holding on. Sera's eyes sharpened. There. A response. Mandi changed something almost immediately. Tiny. Sera could not have explained exactly what. The woman could. Her back shifted against the bed. A sound escaped her. Dalia heard it too. She smiled, kissed her, and kept one hand steady at her side while Mandi continued. That was the work. Not a routine. Response. Adjustment. Attention. The woman reached for Dalia next. Dalia moved into the invitation without stealing Mandi's place in the moment. Attention circulated. Exactly as Sera had noticed before. Nobody competed. Nobody disappeared. The room continued without needing her. That mattered. She could watch without becoming the center. Could be present without needing to participate. Could see her lovers enjoying someone else and feel— Warm. Interested. Aroused, certainly. But not threatened. Not excluded. Mandi laughed softly when the woman's grip tightened in her hair. Dalia smiled against the woman's mouth. Sera knew those sounds. Knew those expressions. They belonged to Ace and Mai too. Nothing was being taken away from home. Nothing diminished because it was being given here. Sera leaned back in the chair. Oh. There was another part. The woman's pleasure built visibly now. Breath shortening. Hands losing their careful placement. Dalia kept her close. Mandi kept reading every change. When release finally took the woman, both of them stayed with her through it instead of racing past the moment. Then stillness. A few quiet breaths. A hand resting in orange hair. Dalia's fingers tracing once along the woman's side. Only after the room had softened again did anyone move. Later, when the three on the bed had settled into the brief quiet after pleasure, Sera remained where she was. Mandi lay partly across the woman's side. Dalia rested nearby, one hand still touching the woman's leg. Nobody rushed. Sera understood that too. The woman eventually looked toward her. "Still just watching?" Sera smiled. "Yes." "Enjoying yourself?" "Yes." Mandi lifted her head. "Careful." Sera looked at her. "Why?" "You're saying yes too much." Sera considered that. "Not to bookings." Mandi dropped her head again. "Fair." Dalia laughed softly. The woman looked between them. "You three are together?" "Yes," Sera said. Mandi lifted one finger without raising her head. "Very." Dalia added: "Extremely." Sera smiled. The woman looked fascinated. "And this doesn't bother you?" Sera understood what she meant. She looked at Mandi. Then Dalia. "No." "At all?" Sera thought. "No." Mandi looked up. Their eyes met. Something warm passed between them. Sera continued. "I like seeing them happy." Mandi's expression softened. Dalia's did too. The woman looked between all three. "Okay." Then: "That's kind of beautiful." Mandi smiled. "Don't tell anyone. Ruins the brand." Sera laughed. Outside, the crowd had become worse. Mandi stepped through the door. Stopped. Dalia nearly walked into her. Sera came out last and looked over both of them. "What?" Mandi stared. There were people waiting. Actually waiting. Not a massive crowd. Jig-Jig could absorb an astonishing number of people before anything became a crowd. But this was no longer random street traffic. People were lingering. Watching doors. Watching Sera. Watching each other. Mandi turned slowly. "Why are there more?" Sera looked. "They weren't here before?" "No." Dalia retrieved a fresh lollipop. "Some were." "Not this many." The woman who had booked them stepped out behind Sera. She looked at the scene. Then at Mandi. "Is this because of her?" Mandi pointed at Sera. "Apparently." Sera frowned. A man nearby immediately approached. "Sera?" "Yes." "Are you available?" Sera looked at him. "Maybe." Mandi muttered: "Still." The man sent an offer. Sera looked. "No, thank you." He nodded. Walked away. Before he'd cleared five meters, another woman stepped forward. "Can I make an offer?" "Yes." Another number. Sera considered her. "No, thank you." The woman sighed. "Can I ask if it was the amount?" "No." "No, I can't ask?" "No, it wasn't the amount." "Oh." Sera smiled. "Sorry." The woman laughed. "Don't be." She left. A couple approached next. Sera spoke with them. Longer. Mandi watched. Dalia watched. Sera asked questions. The couple answered. Sera smiled. Thought. Then: "No, thank you." They accepted it. Moved away. Mandi looked up at her. "Close?" Sera nodded. "Very." "What stopped you?" Sera thought. "I don't know." Mandi smiled. "Then no was right." Sera looked down. "Yes." Someone behind them whispered: "That's four she's turned down." Another voice: "Seven." "It hasn't been seven." "Someone said she rejected a four-million offer." Mandi turned. "WHO?" Several people looked at her. Mandi pointed at Sera. "Nobody knows the numbers!" Silence. One man shrugged. "Someone said." Mandi stared. Dalia put a hand around her waist. "Don't fight the rumor mill." "It is lying." "That's what rumor mills do." "Badly." Sera looked at a cluster of people farther away. Several holos. Several conversations. Her own holo remained muted. She checked it. Stopped. Mandi saw. "What?" Sera scrolled. "What?" "Messages." "How many?" Sera kept scrolling. Mandi's eyes narrowed. "Sera." "I don't know." "How do you not know?" "They keep arriving." Dalia leaned closer. "From?" "My agent." "Only your agent?" "No." Sera scrolled again. "The gallery." Mandi blinked. "Why the gallery?" "People are contacting them." "For bookings?" "Apparently." Mandi covered her face. Sera continued. "My studio." "Of course." "Two collectors." Mandi lowered her hands. "Wait. Art collectors?" "Yes." "What do they want?" Sera read. "One wants to know whether tonight affects the availability of a commission." Dalia started laughing. Mandi stared. Sera read the next. "The other says he's willing to discuss private arrangements." Mandi's eyes narrowed. "What kind of private arrangements?" Sera read farther. "He doesn't specify." Mandi pointed at the message. "No." Sera looked at her. "I wasn't interested." "Good." Sera's holo updated again. She blinked. "What now?" "My agent wants to know what to tell people." Mandi stared. "About what?" "Bookings." "Tell them no." Sera thought. "No." Mandi's mouth fell open. Dalia slowly removed the lollipop. Sera looked at the message. Then typed. Mandi tried to see. Stopped herself. "What did you tell them?" Sera finished. "That there is no booking system." Mandi waited. Sera continued. "If I'm interested, I'll decide myself." Dalia smiled. "Good." Mandi nodded. "Very good." Sera sent it. Another message arrived almost immediately. She read it. Her eyebrows rose. "What?" "My agent says that is going to make this worse." Mandi stared. Dalia laughed. Sera looked puzzled. "Why?" Mandi pointed around them. "Scarcity." "Oh." "Fame." "Oh." "Uncertainty." "Oh." "Seven fucking figures." Sera's eyes brightened. Mandi pointed. "And that." "What?" "You look interested every time this becomes more ridiculous." "It is interesting." Mandi groaned. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Then someone nearby said: "I heard money doesn't actually book her." Another answered: "Yeah. Someone offered more than the first guy and she still said no." A third: "So how do you get her?" Silence. Then: "She has to like you." Mandi stopped. Dalia stopped. Sera looked toward the voices. The first person nodded slowly. "Fuck." The second looked at Sera. "That's worse." Sera tilted her head. Mandi whispered: "They've figured it out." Dalia's eyes narrowed with amusement. "Partly." Another person joined them. "Figured out what?" "You can't buy Sera." "What?" "You can make an offer. She still has to want you." The newcomer stared. Then looked at Sera. Then at the people waiting. "Oh, fuck." Mandi closed her eyes. "Exactly." Sera's hair lifted. A woman approached. Sera opened her eyes. The woman didn't immediately send an offer. Good. Instead she smiled. "Can I talk to you?" Sera smiled back. "Yes." They talked. Mandi listened for perhaps thirty seconds. Then stopped. Something was different. The woman was confident. Warm. Funny. She wasn't leading with money. She asked Sera about her clothes. That was either brilliant or genuine. Mandi couldn't tell yet. Sera answered. The woman knew enough about art to ask an actual question. Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia had noticed. The woman said something Mandi couldn't hear. Sera laughed. Not polite. Real. Mandi's eyebrows rose. Dalia slowly removed the lollipop. "Oh." Mandi looked up at her. "Yeah." The conversation continued. Sera asked a question. The woman answered. Sera asked another. The woman smiled. Then finally: "I'd like to make you an offer." Sera didn't look surprised. "All right." The number arrived. Sera looked at it. No visible reaction. Mandi didn't try to see. Neither did Dalia. Sera looked back at the woman. And kept looking. The woman waited. No pressure. No second offer. No sales pitch. Sera's hair lifted slightly. Mandi whispered: "Uh-oh." Dalia's mouth curved. Sera asked: "Do you like women?" The woman smiled. "Very much." Sera smiled back. Mandi's black eyes widened. "Oh." Dalia put the lollipop between her lips. Sera asked another question. The woman answered. Sera laughed again. Then Sera looked toward Mandi. Not for permission. Mandi knew that immediately. Just connection. Mandi smiled. Sera looked at Dalia. Dalia gave her the same. Sera turned back to the woman. "Yes." The woman went very still. "Yes?" "Yes." Her smile arrived slowly. "Good." Sera's eyes brightened. "Yes." Mandi watched them walk away together. Then she looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. Mandi raised one finger. "That is two." Dalia nodded. "Yes." "Exactly two." "Yes." "She came here to watch." "Yes." Mandi looked toward the door Sera had just disappeared through. Then toward the people already beginning to whisper. Then at the holo screens lighting up. Someone said: "Second booking." Another: "A woman this time." Another: "How much?" Someone answered: "I heard—" Mandi spun around. "NO YOU FUCKING DIDN'T." The speaker froze. Dalia folded over laughing. Mandi pointed at the entire street. "NOBODY KNOWS." Someone farther back called: "Was it more than the first?" Mandi threw both hands into the air. "I'M GOING BACK TO WORK." Dalia caught her hand. Mandi looked up. Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice was warm with laughter. "Twenty-five thousand?" Mandi stared. Dalia smiled. Mandi narrowed her eyes. "You are sleeping on the couch." "No, I'm not." "No, you're not." Dalia kissed her. Someone cheered. Mandi broke the kiss and looked toward the sound. "WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE STILL HERE?" The answer came immediately from somewhere in the crowd. "WE'RE CURIOUS." Mandi froze. Dalia froze. Both slowly looked toward the door Sera had disappeared through. Mandi closed her eyes. "Oh, fuck." Dalia laughed. Mandi sighed. "Now they're using her word." --- # CHAPTER 11 — THE SECOND YES The woman didn't take Sera directly to the bed. Sera noticed that immediately. The door closed behind them. The woman turned. Looked at Sera. And smiled. "Hi." Sera smiled back. "Hello." A pause. Then both laughed. Sera wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps because the transition was absurd. One moment Jig-Jig. Crowd. Questions. Offers. Mandi shouting at strangers about economics. Then— A quiet room. Two women. "Your friend is funny," the woman said. "Mandi?" "The small angry one." Sera laughed. "Yes." "She's very protective." "Yes." "Of you?" Sera thought. "Of everyone she loves." The woman's expression softened. "That's nice." "It is." She walked toward a small table rather than the bed. "Drink?" Sera blinked. "Water?" "I was thinking water." "Oh." The woman smiled. "Disappointed?" "No. Surprised." "Why?" Sera considered it. "My first booking didn't start with water." The woman stopped pouring. "First?" Sera realized what she'd said. "Yes." The woman turned. "This is your second booking?" "Yes." A long pause. Then: "Today?" "Ever." The woman's eyebrows rose. Sera watched her. "Does that change anything?" The woman thought. "Maybe." Sera's hair lifted faintly. "How?" "I'll stop assuming you know what I mean." Sera smiled. "I usually ask." "I noticed." The woman handed her the water. Sera took it. Their fingers touched. Deliberately, Sera thought. She liked that. The woman lifted her own glass. "To curiosity." Sera stared. Then laughed. "Did you hear that too?" "Everybody has heard everything." "Most of it isn't true." "I assumed." They drank. The woman leaned against the table. Sera remained standing. No hurry. Interesting. Again. She was beginning to understand why Mandi hated that word. "Can I ask you something?" the woman said. "Yes." "Why me?" Sera didn't need long. "You talked to me." "Everyone talks to you." "Most people talked about booking me." The woman nodded. "You talked about my clothes." "I like them." "You knew what they were." "I recognized your work." Sera's eyes brightened. "And you made me laugh." The woman smiled. "That's it?" "No." "What else?" Sera looked at her. "I wanted to kiss you." The woman's smile changed. "Oh." Sera set down her water. "May I?" The woman didn't move. "Yes." Sera crossed the distance. She didn't bend immediately. Instead she stopped close enough to feel the woman's breath. The woman looked up at her. Not nearly as far as Mandi did. Still up. Sera touched her cheek. The woman's hand settled on Sera's wrist. Sera kissed her. Softly. The woman answered softly. For several seconds that was all. No urgency. Then Sera drew back. The woman's eyes opened. "Well?" Sera considered. "Again." The second kiss was different. The woman stepped into her. One arm went around Sera's waist. Her other hand slid into silver-white hair. Sera inhaled sharply. The woman stopped. "Hair?" "Good." The hand moved again. Sera's eyes brightened. Oh. Different. Very different. Sera bent farther. The woman pulled her closer. There was no cautious process of discovering whether Sera wanted intimacy. That question had already been answered. Now they were discovering how. Sera liked that distinction. She kissed along the woman's jaw. The woman laughed softly. "What?" "Nothing." Sera stopped. "That is apparently contagious." "What?" "Saying nothing when it was clearly something." The woman smiled. "You're very serious about accurate answers." "Yes." "I like your hair." Sera waited. "I really like your hair." Sera smiled. "That's better." The woman pulled gently. Not enough to hurt. Enough to make Sera's breath catch. Her silver-white hair lifted around both of them. "Much better," Sera whispered. The woman laughed. Then kissed her again. Sera discovered the second difference when she tried to take the lead. The woman let her. For approximately twenty seconds. Then reversed them against the wall. Sera blinked. The woman looked at her. "Okay?" Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. "Yes." The woman kissed her neck. Sera's head tilted back. Oh. The first man had followed Sera's direction carefully. That had been exactly what she'd needed. This woman listened too. But listening didn't make her passive. She proposed. Redirected. Tested. Waited for response. Then continued. Sera liked it. Very much. Her hands found the woman's waist. Clothes began disappearing. Not methodically. Not particularly neatly. Sera's couture caused trouble again. The woman stopped. "What the hell is this?" "It's not a dress." "I wasn't going to call it one." "Good." "How do I get you out of it?" Sera smiled. "Would you like instructions?" The woman looked at her. Then at the couture. Then back. "No." Sera's eyebrows rose. The woman smiled. "I want to figure it out." Sera laughed. "All right." It became a game. One concealed fastening. Then another. The woman found the wrong one. Sera shook her head. "No." Another. "Closer." "You're enjoying this." "Yes." "You could just tell me." "Yes." The woman narrowed her eyes. Sera smiled. A third attempt. A section of white structure released. The woman looked triumphant. Sera laughed. "Very good." "Patronizing." "Was it?" "Yes." Sera kissed her. The woman forgot the argument. Eventually the couture surrendered. Mostly. Enough. The woman's clothes proved considerably less difficult. Sera appreciated efficient engineering. They reached the bed still laughing. Then the laughter softened. The woman sat. Sera remained standing between her knees. Hands moved along Sera's sides. Slowly. Sera looked down. The woman's gaze stayed on her face. Again. That mattered. "Still okay?" "Very." "Still want this?" Sera smiled. "Very." The woman's hands moved higher. Sera's breath changed. The woman noticed. Her smile became smaller. More focused. Sera touched her face. "You're watching me." "Yes." "Why?" "Because I like seeing what works." Sera went still. Then smiled. "I understand that." The woman laughed. "I thought you might." Sera bent to kiss her. The next stretch of time became exploration in a way the first booking hadn't. Less linear. Less concerned with reaching anywhere. They moved between kisses and touch, between teasing and pauses, each learning where the other's reactions lived. Sera discovered the woman liked being watched too. That became obvious when Sera leaned back simply to look at her. The woman's breathing changed. Sera noticed. "Interesting." The woman opened her eyes. "What?" Sera smiled. "You like that." "Like what?" "When I look at you." The woman's mouth curved. "Maybe." Sera laughed. "That's my word." "I heard." Sera looked deliberately. Longer. The woman shifted beneath her gaze. Sera's eyes brightened. "Yes." The woman laughed. "You're pleased with yourself." "A little." "Come here." Sera did. Their bodies met again. Warm. Close. The woman's hands became more confident as Sera's responses became easier to read. Sera returned the attention. No copying Mandi. No copying Dalia. No attempt to perform what she had watched earlier. She followed curiosity. When something made the woman gasp, Sera remembered it. When something made her laugh, Sera remembered that too. When the woman pulled her closer, Sera went. When she slowed, Sera slowed. Conversation became fragmented. Small words. Questions. Answers. Then fewer words. At one point the woman stopped and looked at her. Sera waited. "What?" "You're smiling." Sera hadn't noticed. "I am." "Why?" Sera thought. "Because this is fun." The woman laughed. "Good." Sera kissed her. It was fun. That was another part. Not solemn. Not profound every second. Not dangerous merely because money had changed hands. Pleasure could be playful. Discovery could be ridiculous. A booking could contain laughter without becoming less intimate. Sera liked that. Eventually playfulness deepened into something more concentrated. Breathing changed. Touch became deliberate. The woman shifted lower on the bed. Sera watched her go. When she settled between Sera's knees, she stopped and looked up. The question did not need many words. Sera opened her legs deliberately. One hand found the woman's hair. "Yes." The woman bent to her. Sera's breath broke at the first intimate contact. Her eyes closed. Her fingers tightened once in the woman's hair before relaxing again. When she opened her eyes, the woman was still watching her. Sera smiled. "Again." The woman did. Then she found a rhythm that made Sera's thoughts begin breaking apart. Sera's silver-white hair lifted around her shoulders. Her eyes brightened almost luminous. The woman looked up at her. "Fuck." Sera laughed breathlessly. "What?" "You." Sera's fingers tightened gently in her hair. "Good answer." The woman continued. Sera stopped analyzing again. She was becoming better at that. Pleasure gathered differently this time. Not the slow climb of the first booking. More irregular. Built. Faded slightly. Returned stronger. Sera adjusted. Asked. Answered. Then suddenly found herself much closer than she'd realized. Her fingers tightened. The woman saw. Didn't rush. Good. Sera's eyes closed. The next wave carried through her hard enough to steal a sound from her. Then another. She held the woman close as release moved through her. For several seconds neither did anything except breathe. Stillness. Again. Different person. Different path. Same importance. Sera opened her eyes. The woman was smiling. "Hi." Sera laughed. "Hello." "You do that?" "Do what?" "Say hello afterward?" Sera thought about her first booking. Then laughed harder. "Apparently." The woman kissed her. Sera kissed back. No urgency. Aftermath. Warmth. Hands still wandering without needing to lead anywhere. Eventually Sera shifted beside her. The woman settled against her. Sera looked at the ceiling. "That was different." "From your first?" "Very." "Better?" Sera considered. "No." The woman lifted her head. Sera looked at her. "Different." The woman smiled. "I'll take that." "You should." "Why?" "Because I wanted different." The woman rested her head again. "Then you're welcome." Sera smiled. "Thank you." They stayed longer than Sera expected. Talking. That surprised her almost as much as anything physical had. Art first. Then Night City. Then the absurdity outside. The woman had heard at least four different supposed prices for Sera's first booking. None matched. Sera found that fascinating. "You could correct them," the woman said. "No." "Why not?" "I don't want people to know." "Smart." Sera looked at her. "Is it?" "Yes." "Why?" The woman smiled. "Because now everyone has to wonder." Sera considered that. "Oh." "And because if you confirm one number, people start treating it as a price." "It isn't." "Exactly." Sera's eyes brightened. "Interesting." The woman laughed. "There it is." "What?" "That word." Sera stared. "Does everyone know about that now?" "Probably by tomorrow." Sera frowned. "That's inefficient." The woman laughed harder. When they finally dressed, the couture fought them less. The woman now knew one of the releases. Sera let her operate it. "Professional development," the woman said. Sera smiled. "Useful skill." "I doubt I'll need it often." "You never know." The woman stared. Sera smiled innocently. "Oh, you're dangerous." "People keep saying that." At the door, the woman stopped. "Can I ask one more thing?" "Yes." "Would you see me again?" Sera thought. She didn't answer automatically. That seemed important. Finally: "Maybe." The woman laughed. Sera smiled. "But I mean it." "I know." "No booking system." "I heard." "No agent." "I heard that too." "If I'm here again—" "And curious." Sera's eyebrows rose. The woman smiled. "Everyone's heard that part too." "I haven't said it yet." "Not exactly." Sera considered this. Night City was apparently capable of inventing her future dialogue. Disturbing. "Then if I'm here again and interested, ask." The woman's expression warmed. "I will." They stepped outside. The crowd was worse. Much worse. Sera stopped. Again. The woman beside her looked around. "Wow." Sera stared. People were not packed against the door. Mox had prevented that. But there was unmistakably a gathering now. A loose semicircle distributed across the street. Some pretending not to wait. Some making no such effort. Mandi was standing near the edge of it. Arms folded. Neon-orange hair unmistakable. Dalia beside her. Pink. Green. Lollipop. Mandi saw Sera. Then saw the woman. Then looked at Sera's face. Sera smiled. Mandi's posture relaxed. Dalia's did too. The woman leaned toward Sera. "They were worried." "Yes." "That's nice." Sera smiled. "Very." They walked over. Mandi looked up. "Okay?" "Yes." "Good?" "Very." Dalia smiled. "Different?" Sera's eyes brightened. "Very." Mandi stared. "Why did that sound ominous?" Sera looked down. "It wasn't." The woman laughed. Mandi looked at her. "You survived." "Very happily." Mandi nodded. "Excellent." Sera turned toward the woman. "Thank you." The woman kissed her. Not a polite goodbye. Not particularly brief. Several people nearby reacted. Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia's mouth curved around the lollipop. When the kiss ended, the woman smiled. "Maybe." Sera laughed. "Maybe." She left. Sera watched until she disappeared into the street. Then turned back. Mandi was staring. "What?" "Nothing." Sera narrowed her eyes. Mandi sighed. "Fine. You liked her." "Yes." "A lot." "Yes." "Enough to see her again?" Sera thought. "Maybe." Mandi pointed. "See? Now you're doing it intentionally." Sera smiled. "Maybe." Dalia laughed. Mandi looked betrayed. Then a voice came from the waiting crowd. "HOW MUCH?" Mandi spun. "No." The man who had shouted blinked. "I was asking her." "I know." Sera looked at him. "Seven figures." Mandi turned slowly back toward her. Sera smiled. Dalia started laughing. The man called: "HOW MANY SEVEN FIGURES?" Sera tilted her head. Mandi's eyes widened. "No." Sera looked at her. Mandi pointed urgently. "Do not answer that." "I wasn't going to." "Good." Sera looked toward the man. "Enough." The reaction moved through the crowd like electricity. Mandi stared at Sera. Sera blinked. "What?" "Enough?" "Yes." "Do you understand what you've just done?" "No." Dalia removed the lollipop. "Neither do they." Mandi looked toward the crowd. People were already talking. "Enough means anything!" Sera considered that. "Yes." "That's worse!" "Oh." Someone nearby whispered: "I heard the second was higher." Another: "No, she liked her. Probably lower." A third: "Maybe she doesn't care about the money after the minimum." Silence. Then someone said: "Fuck." Mandi slowly turned. The three people looked at her. Mandi pointed at the last speaker. "You." The person froze. "Me?" "Congratulations." "For what?" "You figured it out." Sera's hair lifted. The person looked at Sera. "So after seven figures..." Sera waited. "...the amount doesn't matter?" Sera thought carefully. Then: "Not very much." The crowd erupted. Mandi covered her face. Dalia laughed. Sera looked around. "What?" Mandi spoke through her hands. "You just destroyed the auction." "There wasn't an auction." "Exactly!" Sera frowned. "I thought that was good." Mandi lowered her hands. "It is." Sera waited. Mandi looked at the people. Then back at Sera. "It's also going to make you impossible." Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. "Impossible?" Dalia answered. "Money can get someone's attention." Sera nodded. "It can't make you interested." "No." "So now everyone here knows the expensive part is the easy part." Sera looked around. People looking back. Some amused. Some fascinated. Some recalculating their entire approach. Sera smiled. "Oh." Mandi pointed. "That 'oh' worries me." Sera looked down. "I think I'm learning." Mandi sighed. "That's what worries me." A couple approached. One man. One woman. Mandi noticed them. Dalia noticed them. Sera did too. They weren't rushing. They weren't waving money. They stopped at a respectful distance. The woman smiled. "Can we talk?" Sera looked at them. Then at Mandi. Mandi stared back. Sera's hair lifted. Mandi closed her eyes. "No." Sera smiled. "I haven't said anything." "I know." Dalia looked at the couple. Then at Sera. Then slowly removed the lollipop. Mandi opened one eye. "What?" Dalia's smile grew. "Nothing." Mandi opened both. "Oh, fuck both of you." Sera laughed. Then turned toward the couple. "Yes." Mandi watched. Not an acceptance. Not yet. Just conversation. But she knew Sera. She knew that brightness. That tilt of the head. That quiet, focused curiosity. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Mandi sighed. "Three." Dalia smiled. "Maybe." Mandi stared. "You fucking bitch." And beside them, Sera began asking the couple questions. --- # CHAPTER 12 — ONE MORE The couple did not begin with an offer. Mandi noticed that immediately. So did Dalia. More importantly, Sera noticed. The woman had spoken first. "Can we talk?" Sera smiled. "Yes." The man stood beside her. Not behind. Not ahead. His hand rested lightly at the woman's lower back. Familiar. Affectionate. The woman glanced at him before continuing. "We've been watching this get increasingly ridiculous." Mandi made a sound. Sera looked down at her. Mandi pointed at the woman. "I like her." The woman laughed. Dalia removed the lollipop. "Ignore Mandi." "No." Mandi looked offended. The woman smiled. "I wasn't planning to." Mandi pointed again. "See?" Sera's hair lifted. The man laughed. Good start. Sera looked at the couple. "How long have you been watching?" The woman thought. "Since before your second booking." The man nodded. "We heard about the first." "Everyone did," Mandi muttered. Sera looked at him. "What did you hear?" He smiled. "At least six different prices." "Only six?" Dalia asked. Mandi looked up. "Do not encourage this." The man laughed. The woman continued. "We also heard you turned down someone offering more." Sera tilted her head. "I don't know if they offered more." "Exactly." Sera smiled. The woman returned it. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia's eyebrows rose slightly. Yes. They both saw it. The couple had understood the game without treating it like a game. Sera asked: "Why did you wait?" The woman looked at the man. The man looked back. Something passed between them. Then the woman answered. "Because we weren't sure." Sera's eyes brightened. "About me?" "About us." That interested her more. "Why?" The man answered. "We've done this before." "Together?" "Yes." "With another woman?" "Yes." The woman added: "And another man." Sera nodded. No surprise. No judgment. "Did you like it?" They looked at each other again. "Sometimes," the woman said. Sera smiled faintly. "That's honest." "We thought honesty might help." "It does." The man continued. "The good experiences were good because nobody was trying to become the center of our relationship." Sera's expression sharpened. The woman watched her. "The bad ones?" Sera asked. "Someone always did." Sera considered that. Then looked at the hand still resting at the woman's back. "You love each other." The woman smiled. "Very much." "How long?" They told her. Sera nodded. Then: "Why me?" The woman laughed softly. "That question again?" "You heard?" "Everything spreads." Sera sighed. "Apparently." The man smiled. "Because you're interesting." Mandi whispered: "Wrong word." Dalia elbowed her lightly. Sera ignored them. "Because I'm Sera?" "Partly." Sera waited. The woman answered the rest. "Because we watched you come out after both bookings." Sera blinked. "What did that tell you?" "That you enjoyed them." Sera smiled. "Yes." "And because you looked different after each." That stopped her. Mandi stopped too. Dalia's lollipop became still. Sera looked at the woman. "Different how?" The woman thought. "After the first, you looked surprised." Sera said nothing. "After the second, you looked pleased with yourself." Mandi snorted. Sera turned. "Excuse me?" Mandi held up both hands. "Nothing." Sera narrowed her eyes. The woman laughed. Sera turned back. "And now?" "Now you look like you're trying to understand us." Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. The woman smiled. "Like that." Mandi groaned. Sera ignored her. The man asked: "Can we make an offer?" Sera looked at them. "Yes." A figure appeared. Sera checked it. Nothing changed in her face. The amount qualified. That was enough. She dismissed it. Then looked at the couple. The woman noticed. "That's it?" Sera tilted her head. "What?" "You barely looked at the number." "It was enough." The man laughed. Mandi covered her mouth. Dalia's shoulders began moving. Sera looked down. "What?" Mandi shook her head violently. "Nothing." Sera stared. Mandi lost. "Do you have any idea how fucking absurd that sentence was?" Sera thought. "It met the requirement." "Yes." "So now I'm interested in them." Mandi stared. Then slowly nodded. "Actually..." Dalia smiled. "She's right." Mandi looked up at her. "I know. That's the problem." The woman laughed. Sera looked back at the couple. "What do you want?" They answered together at first. Then separately. Not a script. A conversation. They talked about what they liked. What they didn't. How they communicated. How they wanted Sera included. Not placed between them as an object. Not expected to perform equally toward both at every second. Free to follow whichever connection felt natural. Sera asked questions. Many. The crowd gradually stopped mattering. Mandi and Dalia stopped mattering too. Not emotionally. Practically. This was Sera's conversation. Her booking if she wanted it. Her choice. Eventually the woman asked: "What do you want?" Sera went still. That question had not come from either previous booking in quite that form. She thought. "I don't know." Neither member of the couple reacted badly. Sera continued. "I know what I've liked tonight." The man nodded. "But I've never done this." "With a couple?" "As a booking." The woman smiled. "Neither had we, once." Sera's hair lifted. Mandi watched her. The curiosity was there. But something else now. Confidence. Not certainty about what would happen. Confidence that she didn't need certainty. Sera looked at the woman. Then the man. "Do I have to decide who I want more?" The woman laughed. "No." The man smiled. "Unless you want to." Sera considered. "No." "Then don't." That answer pleased her. She looked at Mandi. Mandi knew. She sighed. Sera smiled. Mandi pointed. "I didn't say no." "You sighed." "I'm allowed to sigh." Sera looked at Dalia. Dalia removed the lollipop. "You're going to say yes." Sera's eyebrows rose. "Maybe." Mandi pointed furiously. "There! Intentional!" Sera laughed. Then looked back at the couple. "Yes." The woman smiled. The man's expression warmed. Sera held up one finger. "But." Mandi's eyebrows rose. Good. The couple waited. "This is my last booking tonight." No hesitation. The woman nodded. "Okay." The man nodded too. "Absolutely." Sera looked between them. "Even if I enjoy it." The woman smiled. "Especially then." Sera's expression softened. "Good." Mandi stared up at her. Sera noticed. "What?" "You decided that already?" "Yes." "Why?" Sera thought. "Because three feels like enough." Mandi smiled. Not teasing now. "Okay." Dalia nodded. "Three is enough." Sera's hair lifted softly. The woman glanced between them. "You really do look after each other." Mandi looked at Sera. "Always." Sera bent. Kissed Mandi. Mandi's hands settled at her waist. The kiss lingered. When Sera straightened, Mandi's black eyes were warm. "No briefing." Sera smiled. "You're learning." "Fuck you." "Later." Mandi froze. Dalia choked on the lollipop. The couple burst out laughing. Sera blinked. "What?" Mandi stared upward. "That." "What?" "That was deliberate too." Sera smiled. "Maybe." Mandi turned to Dalia. "We've ruined her." Dalia recovered the lollipop. "No." Her whiskey-and-smoke voice was warm. "She learned." Sera's eyes brightened. Mandi looked between them. "Somehow that's worse." Sera kissed Dalia next. Dalia held her close for a moment. When they separated, Sera touched her face. "I'll see you soon." "We'll be here." "I know." Then Sera turned toward the couple. "Let's go." This room was slightly larger. Sera noticed because three people required different geometry. That was the first lesson. The second came almost immediately. The couple entered together. Sera entered after them. The door closed. And for the first time that evening, Sera felt outside something. Not excluded. Outside. The woman turned naturally toward the man. He touched her waist. She touched his chest. A tiny familiar exchange. No thought. No negotiation. Years of practice. Sera watched. Ah. There it was. The challenge. With one person, every line connected two points. With three— Sera smiled. The woman noticed. "What?" "Nothing." She laughed. "Mandi was right." "About what?" "You do that." Sera's hair lifted. The man smiled. "Thinking?" "Yes." Sera considered denying it. Didn't. "I was wondering where I go." Neither answered immediately. Good. Then the woman held out her hand. "Where do you want to?" Sera looked at it. Then took it. The woman drew her closer. Not between them. Beside her. The man remained on the woman's other side. Sera looked at the arrangement. Interesting. The woman touched Sera's cheek. "Better?" Sera nodded. "Yes." The first kiss belonged to the women. Sera understood why. The woman had initiated. Sera answered. The man's hand remained at his partner's waist. Present. Not intrusive. Sera felt it through the woman's movement. When the kiss ended, Sera looked at him. He smiled. No jealousy. No impatience. Sera reached for him. Now the line changed. She kissed him. The woman's hand stayed on Sera's arm. Connection preserved. Sera's eyes brightened. Oh. She drew back. "Again." The man laughed softly. "Which one?" Sera smiled. "Both." That began it. Three was not two plus one. Sera learned that quickly. Attention moved. Shifted. Returned. Sometimes she was receiving it. Sometimes giving it. Sometimes watching the couple touch each other and finding that she liked being present without needing to interrupt. That surprised her. The woman kissed the man. Sera watched. He opened his eyes briefly. Met Sera's gaze. Sera smiled. His breathing changed. The woman noticed. Turned. Saw Sera. Then smiled too. Sera's hair lifted. There. A loop. Not competition. Not alternating turns. Each reaction affecting the others. Sera moved closer. Her hand joined theirs. The shape changed again. Clothes followed. Sera's couture was now a known adversary. The woman remembered the release she'd seen Sera use outside. Sera stared. "You were watching." "Yes." "Good." The man found another fastening. Wrong one. Sera shook her head. The woman laughed. "Your turn." He tried again. Correct. Sera smiled. "Very good." "Do I get a certificate?" "No." "Disappointing." The woman kissed Sera's shoulder. Sera's answer disappeared. Soon white couture lay safely aside. Their clothes joined it with varying degrees of respect. Sera noticed the couple's familiarity more clearly without barriers. How naturally they touched. How one adjusted when the other moved. How neither needed to ask every small question because they already knew years of answers. Sera didn't have those answers. So she asked. And they answered. That was enough. The bed became a constantly changing arrangement of limbs, laughter, kisses and hands. Sera stopped trying to map it. Every time she thought she'd found a stable configuration, somebody moved. At one point she ended up half across the woman while kissing the man. She stopped. Looked down. The woman looked up. "Problem?" Sera considered the position. "No." "Then why did you stop?" "I was checking." The woman smiled. "Good." Sera kissed her. Then returned to the man. The woman laughed beneath her. Sera laughed too. Confidence came not from knowing what to do. From knowing she could change what she was doing. That was better. She began making choices faster. Pulling the woman closer when she wanted her. Reaching for the man without wondering whether that meant neglecting the woman. Letting the couple turn toward each other without interpreting it as losing their attention. Then entering the space between them when she wanted back in. No copying. No role assigned. Her own rhythm. Her own style. Curiosity became direction. The woman noticed first. "There you are." Sera stopped. "What?" The woman smiled. "Nothing." Sera narrowed her eyes. The man laughed. "Now she's doing it to you." Sera looked between them. Then laughed. "Fine." She kissed the woman. Then the man. Then settled between them. "There." The woman smiled. "There." Later, when anticipation had sharpened into need, the playfulness didn't disappear. It simply became quieter. Sera knew what she wanted now. More importantly, she knew she could say it. She did. They listened. Positions changed. Hands steadied. A brief pause. A question. Sera answered yes. The man entered her carefully while the woman stayed close, one hand steady at Sera's waist. Sera's breath caught. Not pain. Adjustment. He stopped. Stillness. Again. She had learned to value that instant. Nobody rushing past it. Nobody assuming. Sera opened her eyes. The woman was watching her. The man waited. Sera smiled. "Okay." He moved once. Slowly. Sera's eyes closed for a beat. Her hand tightened around the woman's wrist. A quiet, surprised laugh escaped her when the first clear pleasure cut through the concentration. The woman smiled. "There." Sera opened her eyes. "Yes." Then movement began. The three-person rhythm was less immediate than with one partner. Of course it was. Someone adjusted. Someone laughed. Sera nearly lost the rhythm entirely and laughed with them. Then they found it again. Better. The woman's hands moved over Sera. The man's attention remained responsive to both. Sera reached back. Forward. Turned her head for a kiss. Found the woman there. The sensation of being connected in several directions at once became overwhelming in the best possible way. Her hair lifted. Higher. Silver-white strands spread through the air around them. Electric-blue eyes brightened. The woman stared. "Beautiful." Sera's breath caught for an entirely different reason. She kissed her. Hard. Movement continued. Pleasure built. Not one line. Several. Touch from one direction altering what she felt from another. A kiss changing her breathing. A hand changing her rhythm. The couple reading each other. Both reading her. Sera reading them back. She understood. Not everything. Enough. She stopped thinking. Her body tightened. Someone asked if she was okay. "Yes." Then stronger: "Yes." The rhythm continued. Sera held on. Pleasure gathered until it became impossible to separate one sensation from the next. Then release hit. Her body went taut. Her eyes closed. A sound escaped her. Silver-white hair lifted almost completely from her shoulders. For several seconds there was nothing but sensation. Then— stillness. Hands remained on her. Warm. Grounding. Nobody immediately moved away. Sera breathed. Once. Again. Her body slowly softened. When she opened her eyes, the woman was smiling. Sera looked at her. Then the man. He smiled too. Sera began laughing. The woman joined her. Then the man. No obvious reason. Perhaps there didn't need to be one. Eventually Sera managed: "That was complicated." The woman laughed harder. "Good complicated?" Sera smiled. "Very." Afterward they remained tangled together longer than any of them strictly needed to. Sera liked that. She also noticed something else. She wasn't wondering about a fourth. The thought simply wasn't there. Three bookings. Enough. Not because she was tired. Though she was pleasantly so. Not because she'd stopped being curious. Definitely not. Because the evening felt complete. That surprised her. She smiled. The man noticed. "What?" Sera shook her head. Then caught herself. "Nothing." Both stared at her. Sera laughed. "Fine." She looked between them. "I know I'm done." The woman smiled. "For tonight?" "Yes." "Good." No persuasion. No teasing offer to extend. Just good. Sera liked them even more for that. When the door finally opened, Mandi was already looking toward it. Sera stepped out. White couture restored. Mostly. Hair decidedly less obedient. Eyes still bright. The couple followed. Mandi looked at Sera. Sera looked back. Mandi asked only: "Okay?" Sera smiled. "Very." Dalia removed the lollipop. "Done?" Sera nodded. "I'm done." Immediate. No argument. Mandi smiled. "Okay." Dalia nodded. "Okay." Sera looked between them. Something warm moved through her. She had expected them to understand. Knowing they did was still different. The couple said their goodbyes. Warm. Private enough. No numbers. No spectacle. Then they disappeared into Jig-Jig. Sera watched them go. Mandi came to stand beside her. "Three?" "Three." "Enough?" Sera smiled. "Enough." Dalia joined them. For approximately five seconds, everything was peaceful. Then someone in the crowd shouted: "FOURTH BOOKING?" Sera turned. "No." The answer was immediate. Several people reacted. Another voice: "I'LL PAY MORE!" "No." "DOUBLE YOUR HIGHEST!" "No." "PRIVATE PENTHOUSE!" "No." Mandi's smile slowly grew. Sera looked at her. "What?" "Nothing." Sera stared. Mandi laughed. "Sorry. It's just beautiful." Another voice: "WHAT WOULD CHANGE YOUR MIND?" Sera thought for less than a second. "Nothing." That quieted them. Not entirely. Enough. Sera looked around. "Three is enough." Someone called: "TOMORROW?" Sera paused. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. Not yet. Sera smiled. "Not tonight." Mandi's eyebrows rose. Sera looked down at her. "What?" "Nothing." "That wasn't nothing." "No." Mandi smiled. "But we'll deal with tomorrow later." Sera's hair lifted. Dalia laughed. Mandi groaned. "I heard it." "Heard what?" "'Later.'" Sera smiled. Then slipped one arm around Mandi. The other around Dalia. Pulled both close. Mandi leaned into her. Dalia did too. Around them, Jig-Jig continued buzzing. Rumors. Offers. Questions. Impossible numbers. Nobody knew what Sera had earned. Nobody knew which booking had been highest. Nobody knew how much she'd rejected. Nobody even knew whether the stories they'd heard were remotely true. But everyone knew one thing. Sera had taken three bookings. One man. One woman. One couple. Then she'd stopped. Not because the offers stopped. They were getting larger. Not because interest disappeared. It was accelerating. She stopped because she had decided she was done. Mandi looked at the crowd. Then up at Sera. "Ready to get out of here?" Sera thought. "Back to Lizzie's?" Dalia nodded. "Suzie." Sera smiled. "Yes." Mandi started walking. Then stopped. Turned. Looked up at Sera. "One thing." "What?" Mandi pointed at her. "Do not tell Suzie you had an economically educational evening." Sera's eyes brightened. "I wasn't going to." "Good." Sera smiled. "I was going to tell her it was interesting." Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia laughed. The crowd laughed. Someone shouted: "SERA, SERIOUSLY—HOW MUCH?" Sera turned while still walking. She smiled. "Enough." The reaction behind them was immediate. Mandi opened her eyes. "YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP SAYING THAT." Sera laughed. Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. And the three women headed toward Lizzie's with half of Jig-Jig still trying to decide what the hell had just happened. --- # CHAPTER 13 — BACK TO LIZZIE'S Suzie Q knew something had happened before the three women reached her. She knew because Mandi walked into Lizzie's first. Dalia followed. Sera came third. And three Mox near the entrance were trying very hard not to laugh. Suzie looked at Mandi. Mandi looked at Suzie. Suzie looked at Dalia. Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. Suzie looked at Sera. Sera smiled. Suzie leaned both hands against the bar. "What." Mandi pointed at Sera. "Her." Sera looked down. "What did I do?" Mandi stared upward. Suzie closed her eyes briefly. "Back room." Sera's hair lifted. Mandi immediately pointed. "No." Suzie opened her eyes. "What?" "Don't say anything interesting." "I said back room." "She can make that interesting." Sera frowned. "I don't do it deliberately." Dalia made a quiet sound around the lollipop. Sera looked at her. Dalia's face remained perfectly composed behind the mesh. Mandi looked between them. "Betrayal everywhere." Suzie walked away from the bar. "Back room." This time nobody argued. The soundproof door closed. Night City disappeared. Suzie turned. "Okay." Mandi sat. Dalia sat beside her. Sera remained standing. Suzie looked at Sera. "Did you work?" "Yes." Suzie's eyebrows rose. Mandi held up three fingers. Suzie looked at them. Then at Sera. "Three?" "Yes." Suzie looked at Mandi. "Three." "Yes." Dalia nodded. "One man. One woman. One couple." Suzie's eyebrows climbed higher with each item. Then she looked at Sera. "You're done?" "Yes." "Because you want to be done?" "Yes." "Good." That was all. No congratulations. No judgment. No surprise treated as a problem. Sera smiled. Suzie noticed. "What?" "Nothing." Mandi groaned. Sera corrected herself. "I like that you asked that first." Suzie's expression softened slightly. "That's my job." Sera considered. "Part of it." "Important part." "Yes." Suzie looked at Mandi. "And you?" Mandi blinked. "What about me?" "You work?" "Of course I fucking worked." Dalia crossed one long leg over the other. "She remains very sensitive about her market position." Suzie looked at Mandi. Mandi's black eyes narrowed. "Twenty-five thousand is an excellent rate." Suzie stared at her. "I didn't say anything." "You were thinking it." "I was thinking you're five feet of economic insecurity." Sera tilted her head. "She's less than five feet." Suzie looked at her. Dalia closed her eyes. Mandi slowly turned toward Sera. Sera realized. "Oh." Suzie's mouth twitched. Mandi pointed. "You are supposed to be on my side." "I am." "That was not my side." "It was accurate." Dalia began laughing. Mandi dropped back into the chair. "I want different girlfriends." "No, you don't," Dalia said. "No, I don't." Suzie let them finish. Then: "What happened out there?" Mandi sat upright. "Rumors." Suzie waited. "Bad rumors?" "Stupid rumors." "Specific." "Nobody knows what Sera was paid." Suzie looked at Sera. "Correct?" "Yes." "Good." Mandi continued. "So naturally everybody knows exactly what Sera was paid." Suzie nodded slowly. "Night City." "Thank you." "How many versions?" Mandi stared. "I stopped counting." Dalia said: "They escalated." "Rapidly." "Some contradicted each other while being told by the same person." Suzie smiled. "Efficient." "NO." Sera's hair lifted. Suzie looked at her. Sera said: "I thought it was interesting." Mandi covered her face. Suzie ignored her. "What else?" Sera thought. "People understood the rule." "What rule?" "Seven figures means I consider them." Suzie nodded. "It doesn't mean yes." "Good." "They eventually understood that offering more doesn't make me want them." Suzie's eyes narrowed slightly. "Eventually?" Mandi lowered her hands. "Sera may have explained that to the entire street." "I answered a question." "You destroyed their auction theory." "There wasn't an auction." Suzie looked between them. Then laughed. Mandi pointed at Sera. "Exactly what she said." Suzie looked at Sera. "So people know money only gets them considered." "Yes." "And after that?" "I decide." Suzie nodded. "Good." Sera smiled. Suzie saw that too. "You liked it." It wasn't a question. Sera considered anyway. "Yes." "Working?" "Yes." Suzie waited. Sera looked toward Mandi and Dalia. Then back. "I understand more now." "About them?" "About why they come back." Mandi became still. Dalia did too. Sera continued. "Not all of it." Suzie smiled faintly. "Probably shouldn't understand all of anything after one night." Sera's eyes brightened. "I like that." Mandi pointed. "Do not give her philosophy." Suzie looked at her. "You're remarkably loud for someone who got paid tonight." Mandi folded her arms. "I had a difficult evening." Dalia stared at her. "You had sex for money." "Yes." "Twice." "Yes." "You enjoyed both." "Yes." "And now you're sitting with both your girlfriends." Mandi thought. "Fine. My life is terrible." Sera laughed. Suzie shook her head. Then she looked back at Sera. "Anything happen that you didn't like?" Sera thought carefully. "The crowd." Suzie's expression changed immediately. "Too close?" "No." "Anyone touch you?" "No." "Pressure you after no?" "No." "Follow you?" "No." Sera shook her head. "The Mox were very good." Suzie relaxed a fraction. "What about the crowd?" "They kept asking questions." Mandi snorted. "That's a gentle description." Sera looked down. "They were curious." Mandi's mouth opened. Dalia put one hand over it. Mandi stared at her. Dalia smiled. Suzie continued. "Anything else?" Sera considered. "No." "Would you have stopped if there was?" "Yes." "Would you have called security?" "Yes." "Would you have called these two?" Sera looked at Mandi and Dalia. "Yes." Mandi reached up. Sera took her hand. Suzie watched. Then nodded. "Good night, then." Mandi blinked. "That's it?" "What do you want, a certificate?" Sera's head turned. "The man in my third booking asked about a certificate." Silence. Suzie looked at her. Mandi looked at her. Dalia looked at her. Sera blinked. "What?" Suzie slowly sat opposite them. "No. Nothing." Mandi whispered: "She collects these." "Collects what?" Sera asked. "Moments that make other people question reality." "I don't." "Not deliberately." Sera smiled. "Correct." Suzie had started to stand when Sera said: "There's something else." Suzie sat again. Mandi looked up. Dalia's attention sharpened. "What?" Suzie asked. Sera took out her holo. Mandi frowned. "What are you doing?" "I want to give the Mox something." Suzie immediately shook her head. "No." Sera stopped. "Why?" "Because you don't owe us something because you worked one night." "I know." "Security was there because that's the job." "I know." "You don't owe me a favor." "I know." Suzie studied her. Sera met her eyes. "I still want to." "Why?" Sera thought. "Because I could say no." Suzie said nothing. Sera continued. "Every time." Still nothing. "Nobody made me explain it. Nobody made me apologize. Nobody followed me. Nobody touched me because they thought an offer bought something." Mandi's expression softened. Dalia removed the lollipop. Sera looked down at her holo. "I noticed that before my first booking." Then back at Suzie. "I understood it better afterward." Suzie leaned back. "Sera." "Yes?" "If you're doing this because you think there's a fee—" "I'm not." "If you're doing it because Mandi and Dalia work here—" "I'm not." "If you're doing it because you think it gets you special treatment next time—" "No." Suzie waited. "Then why?" Sera smiled. "Because I had fun." Mandi laughed softly. Sera continued. "And because the reason I could have fun was that I knew no still meant no." Suzie looked at her for a long moment. Then nodded once. "Okay." Sera touched her holo. Suzie's holo chimed. She looked down. Stopped. Mandi watched her face. Dalia watched too. Suzie didn't move. Mandi's eyebrows rose. "What?" Suzie looked at Sera. "No." Sera tilted her head. "You said okay." "I hadn't seen the amount." Mandi immediately leaned forward. "How much?" Suzie turned the holo away. Mandi stared. "Hey." "No." Sera smiled. Mandi looked up. "You know." "Yes." "How much?" Sera's smile widened slightly. "No." Mandi gasped. Dalia laughed. Suzie looked at the transfer again. Then at Sera. "This is ridiculous." Sera considered. "No." "Yes." "I can afford it." "Not the point." "What is the point?" Suzie opened her mouth. Stopped. Looked at the holo again. Mandi was practically vibrating. "How ridiculous?" Suzie pointed at her without looking. "Shut up." "I haven't said anything." "Your entire body is asking." Mandi sat back. Dalia kissed the top of her head. Sera waited. Suzie finally said: "This is enough to cover your whole group's Mox and Jig-Jig fees for a very long time." "Good." "Sera." "Yes?" "A lot." "Good." Suzie stared. Sera smiled. "And I want some of it used for a party." Suzie blinked. Mandi blinked. Dalia's eyebrows rose. "A party," Suzie repeated. "For the Mox." "Why?" Sera looked puzzled. "Because parties are fun." Mandi covered her face again. Suzie looked at Dalia. Dalia shrugged. Suzie looked back at Sera. "You want to make a massive donation to the Mox and earmark part of it for a party." "Yes." "Because you had a good night." "Yes." "And because people respected your no." "Yes." Suzie stared. Sera's hair lifted faintly. "Is that strange?" Mandi spoke through her hands. "Do not ask Night City that question." Suzie laughed. Not politely. Actually laughed. She leaned back and rubbed one hand over her face. Then looked at the transfer again. "Jesus Christ." Mandi's hands dropped. "That big?" Suzie pointed. "No." "What?" "You don't get to know." "Why not?" "Because I want to watch this hurt you." Dalia folded forward laughing. Mandi stared at Suzie. "You bitch." "Professional privilege." Sera looked between them. "I don't understand." Dalia managed: "She's protecting your privacy." "Oh." Suzie smiled. "And enjoying it." "Oh." Mandi pointed at her. "Thank you." Sera nodded. "That makes sense." "It does not make sense!" Suzie stood. "Transfer stays?" Sera nodded. "Yes." "You're sure?" "Yes." "Party?" "Yes." "Proper one?" Sera smiled. "Very." Suzie nodded. "Then we'll have a proper fucking party." Sera's eyes brightened. "Good." Mandi looked at Suzie. "Can we come?" Suzie stared. "You're Mox-adjacent luxury joytoys who just caused half of Jig-Jig to forget how numbers work." "That doesn't answer the question." "Yes, Mandi." "Good." Dalia stood. Sera remained where she was for a moment. Suzie looked at her. "Anything else?" Sera thought. "No." Mandi immediately said: "Don't ask her twice." Sera laughed and stood. When they returned to the bar, several Mox looked toward them. Suzie stopped. Looked around. Then pointed at Sera. "She bought you a party." Sera blinked. Mandi froze. Dalia's mouth opened. The room went quiet. Sera looked at Suzie. "I thought we weren't saying the amount." "We aren't." One of the Mox stared. "What kind of party?" Suzie looked at Sera. Sera smiled. "A proper one." That was enough. The reaction hit all at once. Cheers. Laughter. Someone slapped the bar. Someone else yelled something about finally replacing a speaker that had been dying for months. Sera laughed. Mandi stared up at Suzie. "You couldn't wait five minutes?" "No." A Mox came over and hugged Sera. Sera blinked. Then hugged back. Another raised a glass toward her. Then another. Nobody asked the amount. Suzie had made that boundary clear without saying it. Good. Sera liked that. Mandi slipped an arm around her waist. Dalia took the other side. For a moment Sera stood between them while Lizzie's returned to noise. Not the noise outside. Different. Warm. She looked down at Mandi. Mandi looked up. "You realize what you've done?" Sera thought. "Funded a party." "Yes." "And?" Sera waited. Mandi sighed. "Nothing." Sera narrowed her eyes. Mandi smiled. "Fine. You made friends." Sera looked around. Mox laughing. Suzie back behind the bar. People already arguing about what qualified as a proper party. Sera smiled. "I had friends." Mandi's expression softened. "I know." Dalia leaned closer. "More." Sera thought. Then nodded. "More." Her hair lifted softly. Mandi kissed her side. Then stopped. Looked toward the entrance. Several people had just appeared. Not Mox. Jig-Jig people. They saw Sera. One immediately called: "Tomorrow?" Mandi closed her eyes. Dalia started laughing. Sera turned. The person tried again. "Sera! Are you working tomorrow?" Another voice joined. "Next weekend?" Then: "How do we book you?" Mandi opened one eye. "Oh, no." Sera looked at the growing cluster near the entrance. Suzie looked up from behind the bar. Dalia slowly removed her lollipop. Mandi looked at Sera. Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. Mandi pointed at her. "Think very carefully before you answer." Sera tilted her head. "Why?" Mandi sighed. "Because apparently everything you say becomes market policy now." Sera considered that. Then smiled. And walked toward the bar. --- # CHAPTER 14 — WHEN I'M CURIOUS AGAIN Sera reached the bar. Mandi and Dalia followed. Not because Sera needed protection. Because neither of them intended to miss this. Suzie Q apparently reached the same conclusion. She stayed exactly where she was. The first person waiting near the entrance called again: "Tomorrow?" Sera turned. "I don't know." A second voice: "Next weekend?" "I don't know." "Next month?" Sera thought. "I don't know." Mandi leaned against the bar. "This is going well." Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. Suzie folded her arms. Someone else raised a holo. "Is there a list?" "No." "Booking service?" "No." "Agent?" "No." "Can your gallery arrange it?" Sera's eyebrows rose. "No." "Studio?" "No." "Private number?" "No." "Then how the hell do we book you?" Sera considered the question. "You don't." Silence. Mandi slowly turned her face toward the bar. Dalia's shoulders moved once. Suzie's mouth twitched. The person who had asked stared. "We don't?" "No." "But you worked tonight." "Yes." "So how did they book you?" "They asked." Someone farther back said: "So we ask?" "Yes." "And then?" "I decide." The crowd murmured. Mandi whispered: "They already knew this." Dalia nodded. "They wanted a loophole." "There isn't one." Sera heard them. "No." Mandi looked up. Sera smiled. "No loophole." A woman near the front asked: "What if you're not here?" "Then you can't ask me." The woman stared. Mandi put her forehead against the bar. Suzie looked down at her. "You okay?" "No." "Need water?" "I need economics to stop happening." Sera looked down. "Mandi?" "I'm fine." "You're lying." "Yes." Dalia stroked Mandi's neon-orange hair. Another voice came from the entrance. "So you're coming back?" Sera looked toward it. She thought. Not performatively. Actually thought. Tonight had been fun. Very fun. She understood more than she had that morning. She had liked being wanted. She had liked choosing. She had liked the clarity. The boundaries. The playfulness. The people. The different shapes intimacy could take when everyone knew exactly why they were there. Would she want it again? Probably. Did she want to promise when? No. Sera smiled. "If I feel like coming back, you'll know." Silence. Mandi lifted her head from the bar. Dalia slowly removed the lollipop. Suzie closed her eyes. The crowd processed the sentence. Someone whispered: "What does that mean?" Someone else answered: "It means she'll show up." "No schedule?" "Apparently not." "How are we supposed to know?" Another person pointed. "She just said we'll know." "How?" Nobody had an answer. Mandi looked up at Sera. "That was evil." Sera blinked. "Was it?" Dalia answered immediately. "Yes." Sera looked at her. "Why?" Mandi pointed toward the entrance. "Because now people are going to wait." "For what?" "For you." Sera frowned. "Why?" Mandi stared. "Because you just told them the only way to get a chance is to be here when you decide to appear." "Oh." "Yes. Oh." Sera considered that. "That seems inefficient." Suzie made a strangled sound. Dalia turned away. Mandi stared at Sera for three full seconds. Then began laughing. She couldn't help it. She folded against the bar. Dalia joined her. Suzie gave up next. Sera looked between all three. "I don't understand." Mandi managed: "That's why it's funny." A man near the entrance raised both hands. "SERIOUSLY! WHEN?" The laughter faded. Sera turned. The room waited. Mandi saw the answer forming. "Oh, no." Sera smiled. "When I'm curious again." The room exploded. Questions. Laughter. Groans. Someone swore. Someone immediately began telling someone else that Sera had just confirmed she would return. She had done nothing of the kind. Another person asked whether curiosity could be encouraged. Someone else wanted to know whether art counted. A third was already arguing that bringing art would obviously be too obvious. Mandi stared at the ceiling. "Look what you've done." Sera looked around. "What?" "You've turned yourself into a random event." Sera's hair lifted. Suzie pointed at Mandi. "That's exactly what she did." Dalia put the lollipop back between her lips. "Rare random event." Mandi looked at her. "Do not make it worse." "Legendary encounter?" "Fuck you." Sera laughed. A woman called: "Can we at least know whether it's likely to be this week?" Sera thought. "No." "Why not?" "Because I don't know." "Next week?" "I don't know." "Month?" "I don't know." Mandi raised one hand. "Everyone!" A surprising number of people stopped. Mandi pointed at Sera. "She genuinely does not know." Sera nodded. "Correct." Mandi continued. "There is no secret calendar." "Correct." "No reservation list." "Correct." "No hidden premium tier." "Correct." "You cannot pay extra to summon her." Sera tilted her head. "Obviously." Mandi looked up. "Nothing is obvious anymore." Someone asked: "What if we offer before she comes back?" Sera answered: "No." "What if it's a really good offer?" "No." "What if—" "No." The person stopped. Sera smiled. "If I'm not interested in working, the amount doesn't matter." That produced another wave of murmuring. Suzie watched the room. Then Sera. A smile appeared. Mandi saw it. "Don't." Suzie looked innocent. "What?" "You're enjoying this." "Immensely." "You're supposed to be responsible." "I am responsible." Suzie gestured toward Sera. "She's not causing trouble." Mandi stared. Suzie corrected herself. "Technically." Dalia laughed. Sera's hair lifted again. Mandi pointed. "Stop being pleased by that." "I can't control my hair." "You absolutely encourage it." Sera smiled. "Maybe." Mandi turned to Dalia. "Home." Dalia nodded solemnly. "Home." "We're taking her home." "Yes." Sera looked between them. "Am I in trouble?" Both answered simultaneously. "No." Sera smiled. "Good." Mandi slipped from the stool. Dalia straightened. Suzie looked at Sera. "You're sure you're done?" "Yes." "Tonight." "Yes." Suzie emphasized: "Nobody gets to change that." Sera nodded. "I know." "Good." Sera stepped toward her. Then hugged her. Suzie froze for perhaps half a second. Then hugged back. "Thank you," Sera said. Suzie's voice softened. "You're welcome." When they separated, Suzie looked at her. "If you come back—" Sera smiled. "When I'm curious again." Suzie stared. Mandi screamed from behind them: "DO NOT ENCOURAGE HER." Sera laughed. Suzie laughed too. "Get out." Leaving Lizzie's proved harder than entering. Not physically. The Mox handled that. Socially. People kept asking. Sera answered when there was an answer. Mostly there wasn't. "Tomorrow?" "I don't know." "Next Friday?" "I don't know." "Same rate?" "Seven figures." Mandi groaned. "Can I send you my details?" "No." "Can I buy you dinner?" Sera paused. "Maybe." Mandi stopped walking. The person who had asked froze. Sera looked at them. "What?" Mandi pointed. "Do you mean maybe as a booking?" "No." "As dinner?" "Yes." The person looked suddenly delighted. Mandi stared. Sera frowned. "What?" "Nothing." "That wasn't nothing." Mandi resumed walking. "I am not opening another economic sector tonight." Dalia nearly lost the lollipop laughing. They reached the street. Night City neon reflected from wet pavement. The noise of Jig-Jig followed them. Behind them someone shouted one last time: "SERA!" She turned. "WHEN?" Sera smiled. "When I'm curious again." Then she walked away. Mandi stared straight ahead. "That was deliberate." Sera joined her. "What was?" "The second time." Sera thought. "Yes." Mandi stopped. Sera stopped. Dalia stopped. Mandi looked up. "You admit it." Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened. "Yes." Mandi narrowed hers. "You enjoyed doing that." Sera considered. "Yes." Dalia laughed. Mandi pointed at Sera. "You are evil." Sera smiled. "Was it?" "YES." Sera laughed. Mandi tried to remain offended. Failed. Then Sera bent and kissed her. Mandi's arms went around her immediately. The kiss lingered. Warm. Familiar. Home waiting at the other end of the city. When they separated, Sera kissed Dalia too. Dalia's arms wrapped around her. Sera relaxed into them. For several seconds there was no Sera legend. No impossible booking. No seven figures. No Mandi. No Dalia. Just the three of them beneath Night City neon. Then Mandi's bright cover voice said: "Twenty-five fucking thousand." Sera looked down. Dalia closed her eyes. Mandi continued: "I worked my way up to that." Sera's mouth twitched. "It is a very good rate." "Thank you." Dalia opened her eyes. "Would you like us to make you a certificate?" Mandi stared. Sera made a tiny sound. Dalia smiled. Mandi pointed at both of them. "I hate this relationship." "No, you don't," Sera said. "No, I don't." They started walking again. Behind them, the rumor was already mutating. Sera would return tomorrow. Sera would never return. Sera only worked Fridays. Sera would appear once a month. Sera chose clients based on conversation. Sera chose clients based on art. Sera chose clients randomly. Sera had rejected an amount large enough to buy a penthouse. Sera's first client had paid more than the second. The second had paid more than the first. The couple had paid the most. The couple had paid the least because Sera liked them. Nobody knew. Sera had confirmed nothing. Three bookings. That was real. One man. One woman. One couple. That was real. Seven figures merely earned consideration. That was real. Everything else dissolved into Night City mythology before the Triad was halfway home. And Sera had no idea when she would return. That was real too. She walked between Mandi and Dalia with an arm around each. After several blocks she said: "I understand why you like it." Mandi looked up. "Already?" "Part of it." Dalia looked across Sera at Mandi. Mandi smiled. "Wait until we're home." Sera's expression softened. "Why?" Mandi squeezed her waist. "Because I want that answer from Shammy." Sera went quiet. Then smiled. "Okay." Dalia leaned against her other side. The three kept walking. Behind them, Night City waited for Sera. Ahead of them was home. --- # CHAPTER 15 — HOME The safehouse was quiet when they returned. Not empty. Home was almost never truly empty anymore. But quiet. The upper door closed behind them. Locks engaged. Night City remained outside. For several seconds none of them moved. Then Ace said, in Mandi's bright joytoy voice: "Home." Shammy looked down at her. Mai looked down too. Ace closed her eyes. "Don't." Shammy's mouth twitched. "I didn't say anything." "You were going to." "No." "You were thinking it." "Yes." Mai's lower whiskey-and-smoke Dalia voice drifted through the entryway. "She's allowed to think." Ace turned. "You are not helping." "I'm not trying to." "Traitor." Mai smiled. Ace looked between the two women towering over her. Then sighed. "Fine. Covers off." They had done this enough times that removing a cover was normally routine. Tonight it wasn't. Not because anything was difficult. Because Shammy watched differently. Again. She had watched this before. Many times. ChromeLock releaser. Contact cases. Face-mesh controls. Clean clothes. Everything they needed to take the public layers apart. The technical dismantling of Mandi and Dalia was familiar. But tonight Shammy had spent hours beside them while those identities were alive in public. She had watched Mandi work. Watched Dalia work. Watched strangers respond to them. Watched them negotiate. Choose. Enjoy. Then she had worked beside them as Sera. The context changed what she saw. Ace sat in front of the mirror and began with her hair. She worked the ChromeLock releaser through the neon orange and gave it time to unlock the bond. Then came the normal wash. The artificial pigment cleared completely in that single normal wash. Short black hair returned, violet sheen catching the room light. Then the black contacts. Violet eyes. Ace looked at herself. "Better." The word came out in Mandi's voice. Shammy laughed. Ace looked over. "Fuck you." That made Shammy laugh harder. Mai leaned against the counter. Still pink-haired. Still wearing Dalia's emerald, katana-green reflective contacts. Still wearing Dalia's face. Still holding the menthol lollipop. "She's right." Ace stared. "You look ridiculous saying that while you're still Dalia." Mai slowly removed the lollipop. "I look fantastic." "Inarguably." Mai smiled. Shammy looked between them. Then at Ace. "Say something else." Ace narrowed her violet eyes. "No." Mandi's voice. Shammy's silver-white hair lifted. Ace pointed. "Absolutely not." Shammy covered her mouth. Mai began removing the face mesh. Ace watched. "At least yours is worse." Mai paused. "My voice?" "Yes." Mai's own face gradually emerged beneath Dalia's. "Why?" "Because you look like Mai." Another section released. "And sound like someone who should be leaning against a bar asking whether I have plans for the evening." Mai's own features were fully visible now. She looked at Ace. In Dalia's low whiskey voice: "Do you have plans for the evening?" Ace froze. Shammy made a strangled sound. Mai smiled. Ace pointed. "That was unfair." "Did it work?" Ace stared. "Obviously." Mai laughed. Dalia's laugh. Ace covered her face. "Oh, this is going to be a long two to four days." Shammy finally lost control. She folded against the counter laughing. Dalia disappeared piece by piece. Pink ChromeLock got the same treatment. Releaser. Activation. Then a normal wash. The artificial pink cleared completely and Mai's normal hair returned. The emerald-green reflective contacts came out. Thigh-high boots disappeared. Premium joytoy wardrobe became home clothes. Mandi disappeared too. Neon orange already gone. Luxury clothes replaced by shorts and a soft shirt. The discreet work collar was removed, replaced by her own Triad collar. Ace checked herself in the mirror. Ace. Entirely Ace. Then: "Coffee." Mandi. Shammy immediately laughed again. Ace spun. "I need coffee." "That makes it worse." "How?" "Because you look exactly like you." "I am exactly me." Mandi's voice insisted otherwise. Shammy leaned down. Kissed her. Ace's objection disappeared. The kiss was warm. Long enough to make the transition from public to private real. When Shammy straightened, Ace looked considerably less annoyed. Mai came close. Ace looked up. Mai bent. Their kiss was slower. Familiar. No client. No role. No negotiation necessary because years of knowing each other filled the spaces where words had been required earlier. Ace's hands settled at Mai's waist. Mai held her there. When they separated, Ace smiled. "Still unfair." Mai's Dalia voice answered: "Good." Ace shivered. Shammy saw. Ace looked at her. "Not. One. Word." Shammy smiled. "I like her voice." "So do I. That's the problem." Mai looked pleased. Ace pointed at her. "Don't." Mai kissed her forehead. Shammy changed last. Not because Sera required dismantling. She didn't. That was the point. The white couture came off carefully. Very carefully. One structural section received a long inspection. Ace noticed. "What happened there?" Shammy looked at it. "Booking one." Ace stared. Mai came closer. "What happened?" "It caught." "On what?" Shammy thought. "I don't know." Ace looked at the bent structure. Then at Shammy. "Did you break wearable art having sex?" Shammy considered. "Technically?" Ace waited. "Maybe." Ace's mouth fell open. Mai laughed. Shammy smiled. "Worth it." Ace pointed at her. "That's what you said to him, isn't it?" Shammy blinked. "Yes." Ace stared. "Of course you did." Shammy folded the couture. Silver-white hair remained. Electric-blue eyes remained. Because those were Shammy's too. Sera had never hidden them. No mask to remove. No identity to switch off. She changed into something soft. Comfortable. Home. When she turned back, Ace and Mai were watching her. Shammy tilted her head. "What?" Ace smiled. "Nothing." Shammy narrowed her eyes. Ace laughed. "Okay. You look like you." "I always did." "I know." Mai came closer. "That's different from saying you look like you're home." Shammy's expression softened. "Oh." Ace held out her hand. Shammy took it. Coffee happened. Of course coffee happened. It was Ace. They ended up in the kitchen. Ace on the counter. Mai beside her. Shammy standing between them with her own mug. Nobody talked about money. Not once. Nobody asked what the first man had offered. Nobody compared bookings. Nobody calculated the night. That part had belonged outside. This didn't. Ace drank. Made a small satisfied sound. Shammy looked at her. Mandi's bright voice said: "Don't." Shammy laughed into her mug. Mai's whiskey voice said: "She's going to do that every time you speak." "Two to four days." "Yes." "I may have made a mistake." "You've had this biosculpt before." "Not while living with her." Shammy smiled. "You have." Ace paused. "Okay. Not while she has material." Mai nodded solemnly. "That is different." Ace pointed at her. "Thank you." Shammy looked at Mai. "Say menthol lollipop." Mai stared. Ace nearly dropped her coffee. "No." Shammy's eyes brightened. "Please." Mai looked at Ace. Ace shook her head violently. Mai smiled. "Menthol lollipop." Low. Smoky. Dalia. Ace closed her eyes. Shammy's silver-white hair lifted. Silence. Then Ace opened one eye. "We are never doing that again." Mai smiled. "Lie." "Yes." Shammy laughed. Eventually the laughter faded. Not abruptly. It simply ran out. The three remained in the kitchen. Close. Comfortable. Ace finished her coffee. Mai took the empty mug from her without asking. Shammy watched that tiny movement. Mai knew Ace was finished. Ace knew Mai would take it. Neither needed to negotiate anything. Home had its own language. Shammy understood that too. She had always understood it. Tonight hadn't changed home. That was important. She moved closer. Ace looked up. Shammy touched her cheek. Ace leaned into the hand. Mai returned and stood beside them. Shammy looked at both. "I liked watching you." Ace smiled. "Working?" "Yes." Mai leaned against the counter. "What part?" Shammy thought. "How much attention you pay." Ace's expression shifted. Shammy continued. "Not just to what someone says." Mai nodded. "Everything." "Yes." "Face. Breathing. Movement." "Yes." Ace smiled. "You noticed." "I notice things." "We've noticed." Shammy's hair lifted slightly. Ace laughed. Shammy continued. "You make it look easy." Mai answered: "It isn't always." "I know." Shammy looked at Ace. "But you enjoy it." Ace didn't hesitate. "Yes." Mai didn't either. "Yes." Shammy nodded. "I understand that now." Quiet. Ace's expression softened. Mai's too. Shammy looked down at her hands. "I thought I understood before." Ace waited. No interruption. "I knew you liked sex." Ace's mouth twitched. Shammy looked at her. "You do." "Very much." Mandi's voice ruined the solemnity. Shammy laughed. Ace sighed. "Continue." Shammy looked at Mai. "And I knew you liked being Dalia." Mai nodded. "But that's not the same thing." "No." Shammy thought. "It's..." She searched. Ace waited. Mai waited. Shammy finally said: "Simple." Ace tilted her head. "Simple?" "Not easy." Shammy looked between them. "Clear." Mai smiled faintly. Shammy continued. "Someone wants something." "Yes." "You decide whether you want it too." "Yes." "If you don't, no." "Yes." "If you do..." Ace smiled. "You can say yes." Shammy nodded. "And then everybody knows why they're there." Mai's Dalia voice came quietly. "Pretty much." Shammy looked down. "I liked that." Ace watched her. "No guessing." "No." "No wondering what somebody means." "No." "No wondering whether wanting something makes things complicated later." Ace's expression softened further. "No." Shammy smiled. "And it can still be warm." Mai nodded. "Very." "Funny." Ace grinned. "Frequently." "Intimate." Neither answered immediately. Then Ace said: "Yes." Shammy nodded. "That's the part I didn't understand." Ace slid off the counter. She landed lightly. Then stepped into Shammy. Shammy's arms came around her. Ace rested her head against Shammy's chest. Mai moved behind Ace. One arm around both. Triad. Shammy closed her eyes. No crowd. No audience for Sera. No Mandi. No Dalia. The voices didn't matter. Not really. Ace was Ace. Mai was Mai. Shammy was Shammy. They stood together for a while. Then Ace spoke. "So?" Mandi's bright voice. Shammy smiled into her hair. "I understand now." Mai's low whiskey voice came from beside them. "Which part?" Shammy opened her eyes. She looked at Ace. Then Mai. "Why you keep going back." Ace went still. Then: "Fuck." Mai laughed. Not Dalia. Not really. The voice was wrong. The laugh wasn't. Shammy pulled them both closer. Ace's arms tightened around her. Mai kissed Shammy's temple. For a few seconds nobody moved. The quiet after. Shammy understood that too. Much later, they were in the Triad bedroom. No urgency. No need to turn the evening into anything else. Ace had stolen most of Mai's side of the bed despite being the smallest person in it. Mai had objected. Ace had ignored her. Shammy lay behind Ace with one arm around her waist. Mai faced them. Their legs tangled beneath the covers. Ace's eyes were already half closed. Shammy whispered: "Twenty-five thousand." Ace's violet eyes opened. Mandi's voice answered: "I will bite you." Mai laughed. Shammy smiled. "Good night, Mandi." "Ace." "Good night, Mandi." "Ace." Mai leaned closer. In Dalia's whiskey voice: "Good night, Mandi." Ace stared at both of them. "You bitches." Shammy kissed her forehead. Mai kissed her mouth. Ace tried to remain offended. Failed. She tucked herself closer between them. A minute passed. Then Shammy said quietly: "I don't know if I'll go back." Ace's eyes opened again. No teasing now. "Okay." Mai nodded. "Okay." Shammy looked between them. "I might." Ace smiled. "Okay." "I don't know when." Mai's expression warmed. "Okay." Shammy relaxed. Nobody asked her to decide. Nobody asked her to schedule Sera. Nobody asked whether three bookings had been enough forever or only for tonight. Curiosity had brought her there. Curiosity could bring her back. Or not. That belonged to Shammy. Ace closed her eyes. Mai reached across and rested a hand against Shammy's side. The room became quiet again. After a while, Ace murmured: "That party is going to be insane." Shammy smiled. "Probably." Mai's whiskey voice answered: "Absolutely." Ace groaned into the pillow. "Two to four fucking days." Shammy laughed softly. Mai kissed her. Ace muttered something neither understood. Then the three settled. Outside, Night City was still inventing stories about Sera. Inside, Shammy slept between the women she loved. And somewhere on Jig-Jig Street, someone was almost certainly waiting for her to become curious again. That seemed inefficient.