## Chapter 1: A Perfectly Sensible Business Proposal Mai had made the mistake of calling it a social evening. Ace looked up immediately. Across the safehouse table, Iris stopped scrolling through the O'Sullivan SAS client list. Brenda stopped pretending not to listen. Shammy, sitting sideways in her chair with one long leg folded beneath her, continued eating something from a bowl. Mai noticed all four reactions. “No.” Ace blinked. “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “You don't know that.” “I do.” Brenda raised one finger. “She genuinely didn't say anything.” Mai looked at her. Brenda lowered the finger. “Yet.” “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” Iris rubbed her forehead. “We've been discussing this for forty seconds.” “Forty-three,” Shammy said. Nobody asked. Mai turned the display toward the center of the table. Twenty names. Ten highlighted one way. Ten another. “O'Sullivan has enough recurring corporate work now that we should stop treating every client relationship like it begins and ends with an individual contract.” Ace nodded. That was reasonable. Suspiciously reasonable. Mai continued. “Ten existing clients. Ten prospects we already have some connection to. Private venue. Dinner, drinks, maybe music. No presentations. No contracts on the table. No sales pitch.” “Networking,” Iris said. “Relationship building.” “Expensive networking.” “Yes.” “How expensive?” “We don't know yet.” Ace leaned forward. “I like it.” Mai stared at her. “What?” “You said expensive.” “That isn't the objective.” “It can be two things.” Iris enlarged the financial projection. “If even two of the prospects convert into recurring work, the evening can justify itself.” Brenda leaned closer. “What if none do?” “Then we hosted an extremely expensive dinner.” “Still sounds nice.” Iris looked at her. Brenda smiled. Iris went back to the numbers. Mai continued. “The point isn't immediate conversion anyway. We already have enough one-off work. What we need is a stronger base of recurring corporate relationships. Security consulting. Risk assessment. Retainers. Problem solving.” Ace's expression changed. Not dramatically. Just enough. Mai saw it. “No.” Again Ace looked offended. “I still haven't said anything.” “Your face did.” “What did my face say?” “Something expensive.” Shammy looked at Ace. “She's right.” “Whose side are you on?” “I don't know yet.” Brenda leaned toward Shammy. “Good answer.” Mai ignored them. “We keep doing merc work.” “Obviously,” Ace said. “Because we enjoy it.” “Obviously.” “But stable corporate income means we don't need to take a job because we need the money.” Ace nodded. Now she was completely serious. “That part I like.” “So do I,” Iris said. “Predictable revenue gives us freedom to be selective.” Brenda looked between them. “So the boring work pays for the fun work.” Mai considered. “That is an offensively simplified version.” “Is it wrong?” Mai considered longer. “No.” “Then I'm putting it in the business plan.” “You are not.” Ace pointed at Brenda. “I vote yes.” “You don't vote on my documents.” “O'Sullivan is a democracy.” Mai looked at her. “No, it isn't.” Ace slowly lowered her hand. Shammy took another bite from her bowl. “What happens at the social evening?” Mai answered before anyone else could. “People eat.” Ace opened her mouth. “Drink.” Ace closed it. “Talk.” Ace opened it again. “Network.” Ace closed it. “Maybe dance.” Ace's mouth remained open. Mai looked at her. “What?” Ace thought. Then: “That's going to be fucking boring.” Brenda made a small sound. Iris looked at the ceiling. Mai sat back. “There it is.” “What?” “The thing you've been trying not to say.” “That wasn't expensive.” “Give it time,” Iris muttered. Ace pulled the guest list toward herself. “Twenty corpos in a private room eating expensive food and discussing corporate security.” “They don't have to discuss corporate security.” “They're corpos.” “They have other interests.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked back. Ace waited. Mai's expression changed by approximately nothing. Ace smiled. “Exactly.” Brenda moved her chair closer. That was the moment Iris became alarmed. “No.” Brenda looked at her. “I haven't said anything either.” “You moved.” “I wanted to see the list.” “You moved toward Ace.” “She's short. I couldn't see.” Ace turned slowly. “Excuse me?” Brenda ignored her. Shammy looked at the distance between Ace's eyes and the tabletop. Then at Brenda. “She has a point.” “Et tu?” “I don't know what that means.” “Betrayal.” “Oh.” Shammy thought about it. “Yes.” Mai put both hands flat on the table. “Can we remain on the original subject for five consecutive minutes?” “Yes,” Iris said immediately. “Absolutely,” Brenda said. Ace nodded. Shammy ate. Mai looked around the table. Nobody spoke. Three seconds. Four. Five. Mai exhaled. “Thank you.” Ace raised her hand. “No.” “You said five minutes.” “That was five seconds.” “Felt longer.” “Ace.” “Fine.” She lowered her hand. Iris's mouth moved. Brenda saw it. “You laughed.” “No.” “You did.” “I did not.” “You're smiling.” “I'm suffering.” “Sex.” Silence. Mai slowly turned toward Brenda. Iris closed her eyes. Ace stared at Brenda with something approaching professional admiration. Shammy looked into her bowl. Then back up. “What about it?” Brenda gestured around the table. “The evening.” Mai spoke very carefully. “No.” “Why?” “Because we're discussing a corporate relationship event.” “Yes.” “For clients.” “Yes.” “And prospects.” “Yes.” “And your solution to making it less boring is sex.” “I didn't say solution.” Ace leaned toward Brenda. “Enhancement?” Brenda pointed at her. “Exactly.” Mai looked between them. “This is why you two shouldn't sit together.” “We weren't sitting together,” Ace said. “You migrated.” Brenda looked down. She had. “Huh.” Iris finally opened her eyes. “No.” Brenda turned to her. “Okay.” That stopped everyone. Iris narrowed her eyes. “Okay?” “Sure.” “You're giving up?” “No.” “Brenda.” “I'm waiting for Ace.” Ace smiled. Mai stood. “No.” Ace looked up at her. “I haven't—” “You're about to.” Ace considered denying it. Then apparently decided honesty would be funnier. “Yes.” Mai remained standing. Ace tapped the guest list. “Not sex.” Brenda looked disappointed. Ace held up one finger. “Hostesses.” Brenda's disappointment vanished. Iris stared at Ace. Mai stared harder. Ace continued. “Actual social hostesses. People who circulate. Talk. Dance. Keep conversations moving. Make sure nobody spends three hours trapped beside the same procurement director.” “That,” Mai said, “is almost reasonable.” “Thank you.” “Which worries me.” “Unfair.” “And?” Ace smiled. “And if two consenting adults decide they'd rather continue the evening somewhere private, that's their business.” There it was. Iris leaned back. Mai remained standing. Brenda looked delighted. Shammy looked thoughtful. Ace did not rush. That, more than anything, made Mai listen. “No requirement,” Ace said. “No expectation. Nobody gets promised anything. Nobody gets assigned anyone. Guest can eat dinner, drink, dance, talk and go home.” Brenda added, “Hostess can say no.” “Obviously.” “Guest can say no.” “Obviously.” “No contract discussions.” Mai's eyes moved to Brenda. Brenda shrugged. “If we're doing this, we don't mix them.” Iris looked at her. Brenda smiled. “See? Responsible.” “That is not the word I would currently choose.” “Ethical?” “Also not yet.” Ace continued. “Nothing that happens during the evening affects anyone's relationship with O'Sullivan. Nothing anyone refuses affects anything either.” Mai finally sat again. That was progress. Iris noticed. So did Ace. Ace wisely did not smile. Brenda smiled enough for both of them. Mai looked at Iris. Iris looked back. “This is the problem,” Iris said. “Yes.” “It could look transactional even if we don't intend it that way.” “Yes.” “Especially for prospects.” “Yes.” Ace nodded. “So we make the separation explicit.” Mai looked at her. “How?” “No business during the evening.” Iris's eyebrows rose. “None?” “No pitches. No proposals. No negotiations. If someone wants to talk business, we tell them Monday.” Brenda nodded enthusiastically. “Preferably after lunch.” “Why after lunch?” “Monday mornings are terrible.” “Not relevant.” “Still true.” Mai looked down at the twenty names. Ten existing clients. Ten potential ones. Then at Ace. “You've thought about this.” Ace's expression became innocent. “No.” Mai waited. Ace's innocence deteriorated. “A little.” “How little?” Ace glanced at Brenda. Brenda suddenly became fascinated by Iris's display. Mai's eyes narrowed. “You already made a list.” Ace looked wounded. “A preliminary staffing assessment.” Iris made a strangled sound. Brenda covered her mouth. Shammy looked at Mai. “She did have a list.” Ace turned. “You knew?” “I saw it.” “And said nothing?” “You didn't ask.” Mai held out her hand. Ace did not move. “Ace.” “It isn't finished.” “Give me the list.” “It's conceptual.” “Give.” Ace reluctantly transferred a small file to the central display. Six names appeared. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Bea. Nova Marlow. Vega Marlow. Silence. Iris stared at the list. Brenda stared at the list. Mai stared at Ace. Shammy leaned closer. Then: “That's us.” Ace pointed at her. “Not all of us.” “You're Mandi.” “Yes.” “Mai is Dalia.” Mai's eyes closed briefly. “Yes.” “Kiro is Deja.” “Yes.” “Elisa is Bea.” “Yes.” “Iris is Nova.” Iris sighed. “Yes.” “Brenda is Vega.” Brenda smiled. “Yes.” Shammy looked at the list again. Then at Ace. “I'm not on it.” Ace froze. Mai looked at Shammy. Iris looked at Shammy. Brenda looked at Ace. Ace looked at the ceiling. “That is an excellent observation.” Shammy nodded. “I thought so.” Ace reached for the display. Mai put one hand over it. “No.” “I need to edit something.” “No.” “Operational correction.” “No.” Shammy's electric-blue eyes brightened. “Am I a hostess?” Nobody answered immediately. Shammy looked around the table. “I can be.” Ace slowly smiled. Mai saw it happen. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Brenda leaned across Iris. “Sera.” Shammy looked at her. Brenda pointed. “Sera.” Ace slapped both palms onto the table. “Seven.” Iris turned toward Brenda. “Stop helping.” “I solved staffing.” “You created more staffing.” “Same skill set.” Mai looked at Shammy. “Do you actually want to do this?” Shammy considered. “Yes.” Not complicated. Not hesitant. Just yes. Mai nodded once. “Fine.” Ace looked unbearably pleased. Iris pointed at her. “Do not.” “I didn't do anything.” “You're glowing.” “That's personality.” “That's smugness.” “Related condition.” Mai looked at the display. Seven names now. Then at the twenty-person guest list. Then at Iris. “Seven hostesses for twenty guests.” Iris immediately understood the question. “Enough.” Ace frowned. “Eight would be better.” Mai turned. “No.” “I only said—” “No.” “You don't even know who.” “No.” Brenda looked at Ace. Ace looked at Brenda. Iris saw it. “No.” Mai looked at Iris. “They haven't said anything.” “I know.” Shammy looked between all four women. “Who is eight?” Ace and Brenda smiled at exactly the same time. Mai stood again. “I need coffee.” Iris rose with her. “I need something stronger.” “It is the middle of the day.” “I know.” Behind them, Shammy asked: “Who is eight?” Ace answered quietly. “I have an idea.” Mai stopped walking. Did not turn around. “No.” Ace smiled. Brenda started laughing. The social evening had existed for less than half an hour. It already had an ethics policy, seven prospective hostesses, one missing hostess, no venue, no budget, and two operational leads attempting to escape the room. O'Sullivan SAS was making progress. --- ## Chapter 2: We Need One More Mai made it three steps toward the kitchen. “Imani.” She stopped. Iris stopped beside her. Neither turned around. Behind them, Ace said nothing. Brenda said nothing. Shammy said nothing. That was worse. Mai slowly looked over her shoulder. Ace was sitting exactly where she had been. Hands folded innocently on the table. Brenda had achieved an expression of such profound neutrality that it should have required training. Shammy was eating again. Mai looked at Ace. “Imani?” Ace blinked. “What about her?” “You said her name.” “No, I didn't.” Iris turned. “You absolutely did.” Ace frowned. “I was thinking it.” “You were thinking loudly.” Brenda lost the fight first. She bent forward laughing. Ace pointed at her. “Traitor.” “You said it.” “I did not.” “You whispered it.” “That is not saying it. That's atmospheric thinking.” Mai returned to the table. Coffee could wait. Murder required less walking. “Why Imani?” Ace's expression changed. The joke left first. “Because she'd be good.” That stopped Mai from immediately rejecting the idea. Iris returned to her chair. Shammy put down her spoon. Brenda recovered enough to sit upright. Ace tapped the empty eighth position on the display. “She knows how to talk to people.” “Yes,” Iris said. “She knows corpos.” “Yes.” “She knows how to read a room without making people feel read.” Iris considered. “Yes.” “She can handle attention.” Brenda smiled. “Very yes.” Mai looked at her. Brenda raised both hands. “What? Palace.” That was difficult to argue with. Imani had demonstrated several things during their Crystal Palace visits. Shyness was not among them. Mai looked at Shammy. “You know her best.” Shammy considered that. Then shook her head. “No.” Mai blinked. “No?” “I know her differently.” Ace smiled slightly. Shammy continued. “But I think she'd like it.” “The hostess part?” “Yes.” “The other possibility?” Shammy's eyes brightened. “Yes.” Brenda coughed into her hand. Iris looked at the ceiling. Ace became extremely interested in the display. Mai stared at Shammy. Shammy stared back. “What?” “Nothing.” “You made the face.” “What face?” “The face everyone makes when I answer honestly.” Brenda collapsed again. Iris put one hand over her eyes. Ace whispered, “I love her.” Mai heard. “So do I.” Shammy smiled and returned to her bowl. The eighth slot remained empty. Iris enlarged it. “Imani doesn't have a cover.” Ace nodded. “That is the problem.” “That's one problem.” “There are others?” “She doesn't work for O'Sullivan.” “Neither does Elisa.” “Elisa is already inside our operational trust structure.” “Imani is inside Shammy's.” Shammy looked up. “Yes.” Iris paused. That was technically true. Mai sat again. “Before we build an identity for someone who doesn't know any of this exists, perhaps we should ask whether she wants to attend.” Ace nodded. “Good idea.” Brenda looked at her. “You were already designing her, weren't you?” “No.” Everyone looked at Ace. Ace sighed. “Hair only.” Mai closed her eyes. “What color?” “Platinum.” Shammy's head came up immediately. “Oh.” Ace pointed at her. “See?” Mai opened her eyes. “See what?” “She likes it.” “That is not approval.” “I like it,” Shammy said. “Thank you.” Mai looked at both of them. “No one is building anything.” Ace sat back. “Fine.” “Until Imani says yes.” Ace sat forward again. “Then we can?” Mai realized the trap approximately one second after stepping into it. Iris turned slowly toward her. Brenda's grin became unbearable. Mai looked at Ace. Ace waited. Mai pointed one finger at her. “If she says yes, we discuss it.” Ace nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.” “That does not mean you call Lena.” “I won't.” “Or Victor.” “I won't.” “Or buy anything.” Ace hesitated. Mai's eyes narrowed. “I won't.” “Why did you hesitate?” “I was thinking about what counts as buying.” “Ace.” “Fine.” Shammy raised her hand. Mai stared at it. “What?” “Can I ask Imani?” The room changed. Not much. Just enough. Mai looked at Shammy. “Yes.” Ace nodded. “That actually makes more sense.” Iris agreed. “She should hear it from someone she already trusts.” Brenda leaned toward Shammy. “Explain the whole thing.” Shammy nodded. “Dinner, drinks, talking, dancing, twenty corpos, eight hostesses, optional sex.” Silence. Brenda slowly smiled. “That was magnificent.” Iris looked horrified. Mai rubbed her forehead. Ace said, “Technically complete.” “Do not encourage her.” “I said technically.” Shammy picked up her phone. Mai immediately reached across the table. “Not like that.” Shammy stopped. “Why?” “Because perhaps lead with the social evening.” “I did.” “In your proposed sentence, optional sex arrives before she has time to process the word hostesses.” Shammy looked thoughtful. “Okay.” She adjusted. “Private corporate social evening. Twenty guests. Eight hostesses. Dinner, drinks, talking, dancing. Sex optional.” Mai stared at her. Shammy waited. Ace pressed her lips together. Brenda was physically shaking. Iris made the mistake of looking at Ace. That ended both of them. Ace folded forward over the table laughing. Brenda followed. Mai waited. Shammy looked between them. “What?” “Nothing,” Iris managed. “It is accurate.” “Yes.” “So what's wrong?” “Nothing.” “Then why are they laughing?” Iris looked at Ace and Brenda. “Neurological damage.” “Hey,” Ace said. Brenda pointed at Iris. “That was good.” Mai took Shammy's phone gently. “Call her.” Shammy nodded. Mai gave the phone back. “And just talk to her.” “I know how to talk to Imani.” “Yes.” “Do you want me to put her on speaker?” “No,” Mai and Iris said together. Ace and Brenda said, “Yes.” Shammy looked between the two sides. Then at her phone. “No speaker.” Ace looked betrayed. “You're learning.” Shammy stood and walked toward the other side of the safehouse. Ace watched her go. “She's definitely learning.” Mai looked at the empty eighth slot. “Assuming Imani says yes, we still have to decide whether this entire idea survives contact with reality.” Brenda frowned. “I thought we already decided.” “No. We agreed to discuss it.” “We have seven hostesses.” “We have seven names Ace put in a file.” “Sera said yes.” Mai paused. “One hostess.” Brenda counted on her fingers. “Mandi will say yes.” Ace nodded. “Obviously.” “Dalia?” Everyone looked at Mai. Mai stared back. Brenda smiled. “Two.” “I did not say yes.” “You didn't say no.” “That is not consent.” Brenda immediately nodded. “Fair.” Mai looked at Ace. Ace was trying very hard not to look hopeful. That was more effective than looking hopeful. Mai sighed. “I am considering it.” Ace smiled. Brenda counted. “Two and a half.” “There are no half hostesses.” “Prospective hostess.” “Stop counting.” Brenda lowered her hand. Iris looked at the list. Her eyes stopped on two names. Nova Marlow. Vega Marlow. Brenda followed her gaze. This time neither of them laughed. They did not need to wonder whether the covers worked. They already knew. Nova and Vega had gone out into Night City and survived contact with reality just fine. More than fine. Brenda leaned lightly against Iris. “So.” Iris looked at her. “So.” “Do you want to?” Iris smiled. “You first.” Brenda thought about it for approximately half a second. “Yes.” No performance. No joke. Just yes. Iris's smile warmed. “Vega?” “Absolutely.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Then waited. Iris looked at Nova's name. Brenda did not prompt her. Ace did not either. Nobody did. Finally Iris nodded. “Yes.” Brenda's grin appeared immediately. “Nova?” “Yes.” “Absolutely?” Iris turned toward her. “Don't push it.” Brenda laughed and kissed her cheek again. Ace leaned back in her chair. “Four.” Mai looked at her. Ace counted carefully. “Sera. Nova. Vega. Mandi is inevitable.” “Inevitable is not consent.” “Fine. Three confirmed and one extremely predictable future conversation.” “Better.” Brenda pointed toward Deja. “Kiro.” “We ask,” Mai said. “Bea.” “We ask Elisa.” Nobody was automatic. Not even when everyone around the table was fairly certain of the answer. That mattered. The list was not staffing. It was possibility. Shammy returned four minutes later. Everyone looked at her. She stopped. “What?” Ace pointed. “Well?” Shammy sat down. “She's interested.” Ace slapped the table. Mai pointed at her. “Interested.” Ace froze with both hands on the table. “Interested is good.” “It is not yes.” “I know.” Shammy nodded. “She wants to know more.” “Good,” Iris said. “She asked what she'd be expected to do.” Mai leaned forward slightly. “What did you tell her?” “Talk to people. Dance if she wants. Flirt if she wants. Anything else only if she wants.” Mai nodded. Perfect. “She asked if she could say no to everyone.” “Yes,” Iris said immediately. “I told her yes.” “Good.” “She asked if she could say yes to more than one.” Silence. Ace's smile returned. Brenda slowly turned toward Iris. Iris looked at Mai. Mai looked at Shammy. Shammy waited. “What?” Ace whispered, “I really love her.” Shammy looked at Ace. “I told you Palace changed her.” Mai pointed at Shammy. “You told her?” “No.” “You just said—” “I told you.” “Oh.” Shammy continued. “I told Imani that if everyone involved wants the same thing, I don't see why not.” Iris nodded. “That is correct.” “Then she said she definitely wants to hear more.” Brenda leaned back. “Imani is going to fit in beautifully.” Mai looked at the ceiling. “She already fits in.” “Exactly.” Iris tapped the empty slot. “Then she stays provisional until she makes the decision herself.” Ace nodded. “Agreed.” No argument. That mattered too. Shammy looked at the display. “Does she need a name?” Ace's eyes lit up. Mai saw it. “No.” Ace looked at her. “We'll need one eventually.” “If she says yes.” “Right.” “Then.” “Right.” “No hair.” Ace looked offended. “I didn't touch the hair.” “You mentally touched the hair.” “That isn't illegal.” “Yet.” Brenda laughed. Shammy looked at the empty slot. “What kind of name?” Nobody answered. She studied it for several seconds. Then said: “Anna.” Ace stopped. Iris looked at Shammy. Brenda repeated it quietly. “Anna.” Mai considered. Simple. Ordinary. Nothing theatrical. Nothing trying too hard. Exactly the sort of name that disappeared into a room until the woman wearing it made people remember it. Ace smiled. “Anna.” Shammy nodded. “Anna.” Iris typed it into the provisional eighth slot. **ANNA — PENDING** Ace immediately reached toward the display. Iris slapped her hand away. “Ow.” “Pending.” “I was just going to remove the word.” “I know.” Brenda leaned over. “Can we make it smaller?” “No.” “Gray?” “No.” “Blinking?” Iris stared at her. Brenda sat back. “Just exploring interface options.” Mai looked at the list again. Sera. Nova. Vega. Three actual yeses. Mandi, Dalia, Deja and Bea still requiring their own. Anna interested, but not yet committed. Better. A list of people. Not inventory. This had become considerably more real in less than an hour. Which meant it was time for the part Ace hated. “Before anyone calls Lena,” Mai said, “we establish the rules.” Ace's shoulders fell. Brenda groaned. Iris smiled for the first time in several minutes. “Excellent.” Shammy looked interested. “What rules?” Mai looked around the table. “The ones that determine whether this remains a social evening or becomes the worst business decision we've ever made.” Ace considered. “That is a surprisingly competitive category.” Iris opened a new document. “Let's try not to win it.” --- ## Chapter 3: Absolutely Not a Brothel Iris titled the document: **O'SULLIVAN SAS PRIVATE CLIENT SOCIAL — OPERATING PRINCIPLES** Ace read it. “No.” Iris looked at her. “What?” “Nobody wants to attend something called Operating Principles.” “The guests will never see this.” “I can still see it.” “You're supposed to.” “I object.” “Noted.” “Will my objection be entered into the minutes?” “There are no minutes.” Ace looked at Brenda. “We should have minutes.” Brenda nodded. “I'll take them.” Mai pointed at her. “No.” “Why?” “Because I know what you'll write.” “You don't.” Mai stared. Brenda thought about it. “You probably do.” Shammy leaned over to read the title. “What is a principle?” Mai answered. “A rule we agree on before something happens so we don't have to invent the rule when something goes wrong.” Shammy nodded. “That sounds useful.” “Thank you.” “Can we have one about food?” Mai paused. “What about food?” “There should be enough.” Ace pointed at Shammy. “Excellent principle.” Iris closed her eyes. Brenda said, “Write it down.” “I am not writing down ‘there should be enough food.’” “Why not?” “Because catering is not an ethical boundary.” “It becomes one when Ace gets hungry.” Ace nodded solemnly. “This is true.” Mai looked at Iris. Iris looked at Mai. Mai sighed. “Put catering in a separate document.” Iris stared at her. “You cannot be serious.” “It will stop them.” Iris looked at the three women across the table. No evidence supported Mai's theory. She created a second document anyway. **CATERING** Shammy smiled. Ace looked satisfied. Brenda whispered, “Governance works.” Iris returned to the first document. “Now. Actual principles.” Mai took over. “First: this is a social event.” Ace nodded. “No sales presentations.” “Yes.” “No contract negotiations.” “Yes.” “No cornering prospects beside the bar and asking them about security budgets.” Ace looked at Brenda. Brenda looked at Ace. Neither had planned to do that. Probably. Iris added it anyway. “If someone wants to discuss work,” Mai continued, “we schedule it afterward.” “Monday,” Brenda said. “After lunch,” Ace added. Mai stared at them. Brenda smiled. “We established this.” “We established nothing.” Shammy raised her hand. “What if they ask a simple question?” Mai considered. “Normal conversation is fine. If someone asks what O'Sullivan does, answer them. If they want a quote, proposal, assessment or actual business discussion, later.” Shammy nodded. “So we don't pretend the company doesn't exist.” “Exactly.” “We just don't work.” Ace smiled. “I like this event.” “You will be working.” Ace's smile disappeared. “Misleading.” Iris typed. “Second: hostess participation is voluntary.” Brenda nodded. “All of it.” “Yes.” “Someone can agree to hostess and not agree to sex.” “Yes.” “Agree to flirt and not agree to kiss.” “Yes.” “Agree to kiss and not agree to anything else.” “Yes.” Shammy added, “Agree to sex with one person and say no to another.” “Yes.” “Agree to something and then stop.” “Yes.” “Agree to watch but not join.” Iris looked at her. “Yes.” Ace glanced toward Brenda. Brenda glanced back. Nova and Vega. Neither said anything. Mai noticed anyway. “Every decision stands on its own.” Iris typed it. Ace leaned closer. “That's the important one.” Mai looked at her. Ace was serious again. “Nothing implies the next thing.” “Yes.” “And nothing someone did earlier means they owe it again later.” “Yes.” “And nobody gets access to someone else because they're together.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Brenda looked at Ace. “That's Nova and Vega.” “It applies to everybody.” “I know.” Shammy looked thoughtful. “If I go somewhere with someone and another hostess walks into the room, they don't get her too.” Silence. Ace slowly covered her mouth. Brenda turned away. Iris stared very hard at the display. Mai managed: “Correct.” Shammy nodded. “Good.” Ace made a small noise. Shammy looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're doing the face.” “I am fighting for my life.” “Why?” Brenda lost it. She dropped her forehead onto the table. Shammy looked at Mai. “Neurological damage?” Mai's composure broke. One laugh escaped. That was enough. Ace folded sideways against her chair. Iris put both hands over her face. Brenda slapped the table. Shammy watched all four of them. Then smiled. “I made a joke.” That made it worse. “You absolute bitch,” Ace managed. Shammy looked delighted. “I did.” Mai wiped one eye. “When did you learn timing?” “I live with you.” Fair. Dangerously fair. Iris recovered first. “Third.” She had to clear her throat. “Guests have exactly the same freedom.” Ace nodded. “No guest is expected to do anything.” “They can just eat,” Shammy said. “Yes.” She looked pleased. The catering principle had achieved constitutional status. “They can drink,” Brenda added. “Dance,” Ace said. “Talk.” “Flirt.” “Not flirt.” “Go home early.” “Stay late if the venue allows it.” Mai nodded. “And nobody treats a guest who doesn't want sexual attention as a failed interaction.” Iris typed that carefully. Ace read it. “Good.” “No conversion targets,” Mai said. Brenda frowned. “That's a terrible phrase in this context.” Iris stopped typing. Ace looked at Brenda. Brenda looked back. Shammy tilted her head. Then Ace understood. “Oh, fuck.” Mai closed her eyes. Brenda started laughing again. Iris deleted the words **conversion targets**. “Thank you, Brenda.” “You're welcome.” “We will never speak of that again.” “We absolutely will.” “Fourth,” Iris said loudly. “Security,” Mai said. That restored order. Mostly. “Reyes runs it.” Ace nodded. “Obviously.” “She coordinates with venue security.” “Yes.” “Private areas need a way for either person inside to request assistance.” “Either person,” Brenda repeated. “Yes.” “Hostess or guest.” “Yes.” “No cameras,” Ace said. Iris nodded. “No audio.” “Yes.” “Door opens normally from inside.” “Yes.” “Security override only if necessary.” “Yes.” Shammy frowned. “How does Reyes know whether it's necessary if there are no cameras?” Nobody laughed. Good question. Iris answered. “Dedicated assistance system. One normal call if someone wants help without an emergency. Separate panic trigger if they need immediate intervention.” Shammy nodded. “And if nobody presses anything?” “Reyes leaves them alone.” “Good.” Ace smiled. “She would hate cameras in there anyway.” Mai looked at her. “Everyone would hate cameras in there.” Ace looked unconvinced. Brenda raised a hand. “Not everyone.” Iris slowly turned toward her. Brenda lowered the hand. “General population. Yes. Absolutely.” Mai pinched the bridge of her nose. “Moving on.” “Fifth,” Iris said. “The business relationship and the social evening remain separate.” Ace leaned back. This one mattered. Mai spoke slowly. “No guest gets better treatment from O'Sullivan because they sleep with a hostess.” “Obviously.” “No guest gets worse treatment because they don't.” “Yes.” “No future contract depends on anything that happens at the event.” “Yes.” “No hostess is expected to help secure work.” “Yes.” “No one is there as bait.” The humor disappeared. Every woman at the table nodded. Iris typed the sentence. **No one is there as bait.** Shammy read it. “Good.” Mai continued. “And nobody uses intimacy to extract information.” Ace nodded immediately. “No intelligence operation.” “Exactly.” “If someone voluntarily tells us something relevant?” Iris considered. “We don't erase our memories.” “Good.” “But nobody fishes.” “No getting someone drunk to make them talk,” Brenda said. “No.” “No steering conversation toward secrets.” “No.” “No pretending sexual interest to get access.” “No.” Ace looked around the table. “So basically: don't be assholes.” Iris stared at the document. Several paragraphs. Carefully structured boundaries. Operational separation. Security provisions. Consent principles. Then she looked at Ace. “Yes.” Ace smiled. “I can make you a shorter version.” “No.” “For the staff.” “No.” “Posters?” “No.” “Little cards?” “No.” Brenda leaned toward Ace. “Wristbands.” Mai pointed at both of them. “Stop.” Shammy raised her hand again. Everyone looked at her. “What if two hostesses want the same guest?” Silence. Mai considered. “That is between the three of them.” “What if the guest wants both?” “Also between the three of them.” “What if one hostess wants to watch?” Brenda became extremely still. Iris noticed. So did Ace. Mai answered without looking at either of them. “Watching is participation in the situation, but it does not make the observer sexually available.” Shammy nodded. “So everyone says yes separately.” “Yes.” “And if the observer decides they want to join?” “Then everyone discusses that separately.” “Okay.” Brenda looked at Iris. Iris looked back. Something private passed between them. Ace saw it. Mai saw Ace see it. “Ace.” “I didn't say anything.” “Don't.” “I literally didn't.” “You were about to.” Ace smiled. Maybe. Iris finished typing. Then read the document from the beginning. Nobody interrupted. Even Ace. When she reached the end, the safehouse stayed quiet for a moment. Twenty guests. Eight possible hostesses. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. Conversation. Maybe sex. Maybe none. Nobody owed anyone anything. Nothing bought access to anyone. Nothing intimate purchased business. Nobody was there to collect intelligence. Security existed to protect choices, not monitor them. Mai looked at Ace. “This version I can support.” Ace blinked. “Really?” “Yes.” Brenda looked at Iris. Iris nodded. “So can I.” Ace's smile appeared slowly. Dangerously. Mai saw it. “What?” “Nothing.” “Ace.” “We have approval.” “We have approval for the concept.” “That's approval.” “It is conditional.” “Still approval.” “Venue isn't approved.” “We don't have one.” “Exactly.” “Hostesses aren't confirmed.” “We have Shammy.” Shammy waved. “Hello.” “Imani is pending.” “Anna is pending.” “Anna doesn't exist yet.” “She has a name.” “That is not existence.” Brenda leaned toward Iris. “Philosophically debatable.” “Don't.” Ace stood. Mai immediately became suspicious. “Where are you going?” “Nowhere.” “You stood up.” “My legs work.” “Sit.” Ace sat. Brenda whispered, “Authoritarian.” Mai heard. “Yes.” Shammy looked at the second document. “The catering one is empty.” Everyone stopped. She pointed at it. “We never finished the food rules.” Ace looked at Mai. Brenda looked at Iris. Mai looked at the ceiling. Iris slowly closed the operating-principles document. “Fine.” Shammy smiled. Ace moved her chair closer. Brenda did the same. Mai watched them migrate. Again. Iris opened the catering document. “All right.” Ace raised her hand. “Steak.” Brenda raised hers. “Dessert.” Shammy raised both. “Enough.” Mai sighed. The ethics meeting was over. The difficult part had apparently been easy. Lunch was going to kill them. --- ## Chapter 4: Eight Is a Number By the time the rules stopped multiplying, the roster had acquired three green names. Sera. Nova. Vega. Anna remained **INTERESTED**. Mandi, Dalia, Deja and Bea remained untouched. Ace stared at the display. “This is inefficient.” Iris looked at her. “No.” “I haven't proposed anything yet.” “I know.” “That seems prejudicial.” “It is experience.” Brenda leaned against Iris. “Administrator voice.” Iris ignored her. Mai pointed at Mandi. “We start with Ace.” Ace looked around. “I'm here.” “We noticed.” “Good.” Mai folded her arms. “Ace. Do you want to participate in the evening as Mandi?” Ace stared. “Yes.” “You could at least pretend to think about it.” “Why?” Brenda laughed. Mai's mouth twitched. Iris asked, “Mandi specifically?” “Yes.” “Hostess role, under the rules we just agreed?” “Yes.” “Anything else only because you want it?” “Yes.” “Still free to tell every guest in the building to fuck off?” Ace smiled. “Can I?” “Individually.” “Excellent.” Iris changed the status. **MANDI — CONFIRMED** Shammy raised four fingers. “Four.” Mai looked at her. “I am counting.” “I can see that.” “Good.” Ace pointed at Dalia. “Your turn.” Mai looked at her. “No.” Ace blinked. “No?” “No, you do not get to ask.” “Why?” “Because you're enjoying this too much.” “I can be professional.” Six expressions answered that. Ace frowned. “Hostile room.” Brenda sat forward. “I'll ask.” “Absolutely not.” “Why not?” “You're worse.” Brenda looked pleased. “Thank you.” “That wasn't praise.” “I kept it anyway.” Iris sighed. “I'll do it.” Mai looked at her. Then nodded. Iris glanced once at the roster. “Mai. Do you want to participate as Dalia?” The room settled. Mai could have answered immediately. She didn't. Not because she was uncertain. Because this was the point of asking. Dalia was not something Ace got to volunteer for her. Not something the group could assume because Mai had enjoyed the cover before. Not something made inevitable by a pink name on a screen. Mai looked at Ace. Ace had stopped joking. Waiting. Mai smiled. “Yes.” Ace's face lit. “Dalia?” “Yes.” “The whole—” Mai raised one finger. Ace stopped. Mai looked back at Iris. “Yes. I want to do the evening as Dalia.” Iris changed the status. **DALIA — CONFIRMED** Ace launched herself into Mai's lap. Mai caught her automatically. Brenda pointed. “There.” Iris looked at her. “What?” “That thing.” “What thing?” “The reason I don't sit beside Mai.” Mai looked down at the small Japanese woman now sideways across her thighs. Ace wrapped both arms around her neck. “I am celebrating.” “I gathered.” Shammy watched. “Do you always climb onto Mai when you're happy?” Ace considered. “No.” Mai looked at her. Ace smiled. “Sometimes I climb onto her for other reasons.” Brenda made a delighted noise. Iris closed her eyes. Shammy nodded. “That makes sense.” Mai kissed Ace before she could improve the answer. It worked. Briefly. When the kiss ended, Ace remained exactly where she was. Mai looked down. “Chair.” “No.” “You have one.” “I like this one.” “I am not furniture.” Ace settled closer. “Luxury furniture.” Brenda folded against Iris laughing. Mai looked at the ceiling. “Five,” Shammy announced. Nobody corrected her. Then she pointed at Deja. “Six?” Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Deja's name. Something shifted in her expression. Ace caught it. So did Brenda. “Oh,” Brenda said. Iris looked between them. “What?” Ace smiled. “Kiro.” Mai picked up the phone. Ace blinked. “You're calling her?” “Yes.” “I thought I was.” “No.” “Why?” Mai gave her a look. Ace's smile widened. “Oh.” Brenda looked at Iris. Iris still looked confused. Brenda whispered something into her ear. Iris's eyebrows went up. “Oh.” Mai called. Kiro answered. “Hi.” “Hi.” A pause. Then: “Why are you calling me from Ace's phone?” Mai looked down. Ace was still occupying her lap and holding her phone. Mai had, in fact, called from Ace's phone. “She has mine trapped under her.” Ace looked offended. “I do not.” “You're sitting on my pocket.” “Oh.” Kiro laughed. “What happened?” “We're organizing a private O'Sullivan social evening.” “That sounds expensive.” Iris muttered, “Thank you.” Kiro heard. “Is Iris there?” “Yes.” “Tell her I'm sorry.” “You're not.” “No.” Mai continued. “Twenty guests. Existing clients and prospects. Dinner, drinks, conversation, dancing.” “Okay.” “Eight hostesses.” Pause. “Okay.” “Private rooms available.” Longer pause. “Okay.” “Everything optional. No assignments. No intelligence work. No business negotiation during the evening.” Kiro's voice changed. Not much. Interested now. “And?” “We're asking whether you want to participate as Deja.” Silence. Ace watched Mai. Mai waited. Then Kiro asked: “Are you Dalia?” Mai smiled. “Yes.” Immediate: “Then yes.” Ace's eyebrows went up. Brenda made a tiny victorious sound. Iris leaned toward the phone. “Kiro.” “I know.” “I still have to ask.” “I know.” “Deja is not required to stay with Dalia.” “I know.” “The leash isn't a condition of participating.” “I know.” “You don't have to take clients.” “I know.” “If you do, Dalia doesn't decide which ones.” “I know.” Mai's smile warmed. Kiro continued: “She holds the leash. She doesn't hold my yes.” Shammy smiled. Iris nodded. “Exactly.” “And if I want it off, it comes off.” “Yes.” “If I want to leave with someone, I choose.” “Yes.” “If I want Dalia to unclip me first, she does.” Mai answered this time. “Yes.” Kiro was quiet for a moment. Then: “Good.” Ace watched Mai's face. There was something very soft there now. Not ownership. Recognition. A structure already understood. Kiro spoke again. “I liked working.” Ace smiled. There it was. Not just Deja. Not just the ivory collar. Not just venom-green hair or the softer face or the sharp mouth it somehow made even more dangerous. The work. Kiro had discovered that too. “I know,” Mai said. “And I liked coming back to you afterward.” Mai's hand rested lightly against Ace's waist. “I know that too.” “So yes.” Kiro paused. Then, with considerably more amusement: “Master.” Ace went completely still. Mai closed her eyes. Brenda slapped both hands over her mouth. Iris looked at the ceiling. Shammy smiled brightly. Ace slowly turned her head toward Mai. Mai opened her eyes. “No.” Ace's smile became enormous. “I didn't say anything.” “You are never saying anything.” “I have questions.” “No.” “So many questions.” “You already know the answers.” “That has never stopped me before.” Kiro was laughing now. “Sorry.” “No, you're not,” Mai said. “No.” Ace leaned toward the phone. “Hi, Deja.” “Don't.” “Was that Deja?” “Ace.” “The mouth sounded like Deja.” Kiro paused. Then said, perfectly calmly: “Keep going and I'll tell everyone what you did with Dalia at Lizzie's.” Ace stopped. Mai looked down at her. Brenda inhaled sharply. Iris turned toward Ace. Shammy's eyes brightened. Ace pointed at the phone. “That is classified.” “It happened in public.” “Parts of it.” Kiro laughed. Mai kissed the top of Ace's head. “Welcome back, Deja.” “Fuck you.” “There she is,” Ace said. The call ended with Deja confirmed. Iris changed the status. **DEJA — CONFIRMED** Shammy raised six fingers. “Six.” Mai looked at the complete line between Dalia and Deja on the roster. Nothing visible connected them there. Good. The connection belonged to them. Bea remained. Ace called Elisa. Elisa answered quickly. “Ace?” Ace stared at the phone. “How?” Elisa laughed. “What?” “How did you know?” “You called me.” Ace looked around the room. “Kiro did that too.” Mai patted her waist. “You'll solve it eventually.” “Fuck all of you.” “Hi, Mai,” Elisa said. “Hi.” “What are you doing?” Brenda called across the room. “Making terrible financial decisions.” Iris turned. “We haven't spent anything.” “Yet.” Iris's expression became troubled. Ace explained the evening. She had become disturbingly efficient at it. Twenty guests. Corporate social evening. Food, drinks, conversation, dancing. Eight hostesses. Private rooms. No obligation. No business tied to intimacy. No intelligence operation. Reyes running security. Then: “Bea.” Elisa went quiet. “Bea.” “Yes.” “Full cover?” “Yes.” “Hair?” “Yes.” “Face?” “Yes.” “Voice?” “Yes.” “Boots?” Ace smiled. “Obviously.” “Good.” Mai laughed. Elisa asked: “Guest list?” “Not final,” Iris said. “I want to review it.” “Absolutely.” “I need to know who knows Elisa.” “Yes.” “And if someone does?” “We evaluate it,” Mai said. “Nothing is automatic.” “Good.” Pause. Then: “Yes.” Iris leaned toward the phone. “Interested?” “Confirmed.” “You want to do it as Bea?” “Yes.” “Under the same rules?” “Yes.” “You can say no to every guest.” “I know.” “You can leave.” “I know.” “You don't owe O'Sullivan anything beyond what you actually agree to do.” “I know.” Elisa paused. “One question.” “Go ahead.” “Do I have to dance?” Ace blinked. “No.” “Excellent.” Brenda leaned toward the phone. “You can stand beside the dance floor and silently judge everybody.” “That sounds much better.” “See? Hostessing.” Iris changed the status. **BEA — CONFIRMED** Shammy raised seven fingers. “Seven.” Everyone looked at the last line. **ANNA — INTERESTED** Shammy's phone rang. She looked down. “Imani.” Ace started to rise. Mai's arm tightened around her waist. “No.” “I wasn't doing anything.” “You were preparing to pounce.” “I do not pounce.” “You crossed two meters into my lap without touching the floor.” “That was earlier.” “Stay.” Ace stayed. Shammy answered. “Hi.” She listened. “Yes.” Another pause. “Yes, they're all still here.” She looked around. “Speaker?” Whatever Imani said made her smile. Shammy activated it. Imani's voice filled the room. “Hello, dangerous people.” Ace smiled. “Hi.” Imani laughed. “That one.” “What?” “That voice.” “What voice?” “The one from the woman who's already designed my hair.” Mai slowly looked down at Ace. Ace looked innocent. “Why does everyone think that?” “Because everyone knows you.” “Apparently.” Imani continued. “Platinum.” Ace stopped. “What?” “If we're doing this, platinum.” Shammy made a delighted sound. Ace twisted toward Mai. “SEE?” “I see.” “And no contacts.” Ace settled immediately. “Okay.” “My eyes stay mine.” “Yes.” “I don't know about a face mesh.” Iris answered. “Neither do we. You review the guest list with Elisa first. If nobody there knows Imani well enough, there's no reason to add one just because we can.” “Good.” “And the voice?” Imani asked. Mai answered. “Victor.” “Temporary biosculpt?” “Yes.” “Physical?” “Yes.” “How different?” “As different as Victor thinks is comfortable and safe for the working window.” Imani thought. “I want Anna to sound like Anna.” Shammy looked at the name. “You like it?” “Yes.” “I picked it.” “I know.” “You do?” “You told me.” “Oh.” Ace smiled. Shammy smiled too. “I like it,” Imani said. “I've been trying it.” Ace leaned forward as far as Mai allowed. “Trying what?” “Saying it.” “How does she sound?” “I don't know yet.” Mai smiled. “Then Victor gets a problem.” “He likes those.” “He says he doesn't.” “Victor lies.” Ace nodded solemnly. “True.” Iris looked at the last yellow status. “Imani.” “Yes?” “Proper question.” “Okay.” “Do you want to participate in the evening as Anna?” “Yes.” “Hostess role?” “Yes.” “Social company first?” “Yes.” “Anything intimate only if you independently want it?” “Yes.” “You can refuse everyone.” “Yes.” “You can change your mind.” “Yes.” “You don't owe us a private-room booking.” “Yes.” “You don't owe the guests one.” “Yes.” “And Anna remains yours afterward.” That one took longer. Then: “Yes.” Iris waited. Imani laughed softly. “Confirmed, Iris.” The final line changed. **ANNA — CONFIRMED** Shammy raised eight fingers. “Eight.” Ace looked at the screen. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Bea. Nova. Vega. Sera. Anna. Eight. Twenty guests. Enough room that nobody needed to chase attention. Enough different personalities that nobody needed to pretend to be something they weren't. Enough potential trouble that Iris was already staring at the list as though it had personally attacked her budget. Ace smiled. “We need Lena.” “No,” Iris said. Ace blinked. “What?” “We need a budget.” “We need dresses.” “Budget.” “Hair.” “Budget.” “Makeup.” “Budget.” “Shoes.” Iris stared at her. Ace lowered her voice. “Budget.” “Thank you.” Brenda leaned around Iris. “Can it be a large budget?” “No.” “Very large?” “No.” “Unreasonably large?” “No.” Ace looked at Brenda. Brenda looked at Ace. Something passed between them. Mai saw it. “Oh, fuck.” Iris turned. “What?” “Those two just agreed on something without speaking.” Iris looked at them. Ace smiled. Brenda smiled. Iris's face fell. “No.” “We haven't said anything,” Ace protested. “That makes it worse.” Shammy raised her hand. Iris looked at her. “What?” “Does food have its own budget?” Iris went still. Ace turned toward Shammy. Brenda turned toward Shammy. Mai bit her lip. “Yes,” Iris finally said. Shammy smiled. “Good.” Ace whispered to Brenda: “She's terrifying.” Brenda whispered back: “She learns fast.” Mai heard them. “So do I.” Ace immediately sat straighter in her lap. Iris opened a spreadsheet. Ace looked at it. Then at Brenda. Brenda looked back. Neither spoke. Iris noticed. “Stop that.” “Stop what?” Brenda asked. “Whatever you're doing.” “We're sitting.” “You're planning.” Ace looked offended. “We're not.” Mai looked down at her. “Ace.” “Fine.” Iris took a breath. “How bad?” Ace smiled. “We haven't called Lena yet.” That did not answer the question. Which was answer enough. The roster was complete. The budget survived for approximately eleven seconds. --- ## Chapter 5: Budgetary Hostilities Lena arrived forty-three minutes later carrying two bags, a garment case, a tablet and the expression of a woman who had been told there was a budget and had already decided it was probably wrong. Iris met her at the upper door. “Before you come in.” Lena stopped. “What?” “We have a budget.” Lena looked at her. “Yes?” “I need you to understand that.” “I understand what a budget is.” Behind Iris, Ace appeared. “No, she doesn't.” Lena smiled. Iris closed her eyes. “Do not encourage her.” “I haven't even entered yet.” “That has never stopped anyone in this building.” Lena stepped inside. Ace hugged her. Brenda appeared next. Then Shammy. Then Mai, who looked at the bags. “You brought things.” “I was told eight women.” Iris turned toward Ace. “You called her before we had a budget.” Ace looked offended. “No.” Lena walked past them. “Brenda called me.” Iris turned. Brenda immediately pointed at Ace. “She was going to.” “That is not a defense.” “It felt relevant.” Lena reached the table. The roster was still displayed. She read it. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Bea. Nova. Vega. Sera. Anna. Her eyes stopped. “Anna?” Shammy raised her hand. “I named her.” Lena looked at her. “Who is she?” “Imani.” Lena's eyebrows rose. Then she looked at Ace. “Platinum?” Ace's mouth fell open. Mai started laughing. Brenda pointed triumphantly. “See?” Iris stared at Lena. “How did you know that?” Lena shrugged. “Look at the list.” “That explains nothing.” “It explains enough.” Ace moved beside Lena. “Platinum.” “Obviously.” “No contacts.” Lena looked at her. “Why?” “Her choice.” “Good.” “Own eyes.” “Better.” “Black lipstick.” Lena considered. Then nodded. “Yes.” Ace looked vindicated. Iris looked worried. Nobody had mentioned a dress yet and the budget was already losing. Lena put her tablet on the table. “What's the event?” Iris explained. Private O'Sullivan social evening. Approximately twenty guests. Existing clients and prospects. High-end venue. Food. Drinks. Conversation. Dancing. Eight hostesses. Private rooms available. Nothing obligatory. No business negotiation during the event. No intelligence operation. Lena listened. Then looked at the roster again. “Joytoy presentation?” “No,” Mai said. “Good.” Ace blinked. “What?” Lena looked at her. “If you dress all eight like expensive joytoys, the room becomes about the clothes before anyone has said hello.” Ace considered. “That sounds good.” “No.” Mai smiled. Lena continued. “They need to look like they belong at a very expensive private evening.” “Yes,” Iris said. “And if someone later discovers that the dress can become something else—” Brenda leaned forward. “Yes?” Lena smiled. “That's their reward for paying attention.” Ace put both hands on the table. “I love you.” “I know.” Iris pointed at Ace. “Budget.” Ace slowly removed her hands. Lena looked at Iris. “What budget?” Iris opened the spreadsheet. Lena read it. Her expression did not change. That frightened Iris more than laughter would have. “Well?” Lena scrolled. “This is the clothing budget?” “Yes.” “For eight?” “Yes.” “Shoes included?” “Yes.” “ChromeLock?” “Yes.” “Makeup?” “Yes.” “Backup pieces?” Iris hesitated. “How many backup pieces?” Lena looked at her. Iris sighed. “Yes.” Lena scrolled again. Then: “No.” Iris stared. “No?” “No.” Ace smiled. Iris pointed at her without looking. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You radiated something.” “I have an aura.” “Wrong aura.” Shammy looked interested. Ace looked at her. “Don't.” Shammy smiled. Lena enlarged the spreadsheet. “You want eight individual high-end evening looks.” “Yes.” “Not costumes.” “Yes.” “Fast-drop architecture.” Iris hesitated. “Yes.” “Full mobility.” “Yes.” “Emergency movement.” “Yes.” “Fabric that survives sitting, dancing, food, alcohol, private-room use and being folded badly by people who should know better.” Everyone looked at Ace. Ace looked around. “What?” Lena continued. “Self-smoothing.” Iris's face changed. “No.” Ace whispered, “Yes.” “No.” Lena looked between them. “Do you want them to come back looking like they spent an hour in a private room?” Iris opened her mouth. Closed it. Ace smiled. Iris glared at her. Ace's smile widened. Iris looked back at Lena. “How expensive?” Lena named a figure. Silence. Brenda coughed. Mai looked at the ceiling. Ace looked delighted. Shammy asked: “For all eight?” Lena looked at her. “For the fabric.” Iris stood up. Brenda caught her hand. “Where are you going?” “Away.” “You live here.” “That has become unfortunate.” Brenda pulled her gently back down. Lena continued as though nobody had attempted to resign from reality. “The fabric is worth it.” Iris stared at her. “Of course you think that.” “I don't pay for it.” Ace made a tiny sound. Iris turned. “Not one word.” Ace mimed locking her lips. Mai reached over and removed the imaginary key. Ace looked betrayed. Lena started drawing. The first silhouettes appeared quickly. Not details. Shapes. Mandi first. Compact. Sharp. The dress respected Ace's size instead of trying to make her look taller. Shorter lines. Strong shoulders without bulk. Movement through the hips. A transformed state that would preserve the shorts-like silhouette Ace always returned to when she wanted to feel like herself. Ace leaned closer. “Oh.” Lena looked at her. “Good oh?” “Yes.” Ace touched the hemline on the projection. “Can this sit slightly higher?” “Yes.” “And this?” “Yes.” “And—” “Ace.” She looked at Mai. “What?” “Let Lena draw.” “I am helping.” “You have moved three lines.” “They were wrong.” Lena adjusted the third line. “She was right.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai sighed. “Of course she was.” Dalia came next. Longer. Cleaner. Built around Mai's height rather than fighting it. The initial silhouette looked almost conservative. Ace frowned. Then Lena touched one control. The projected structure changed. One release. Then another. The entire geometry altered without becoming a different dress. Ace's eyes widened. Mai leaned forward. “Oh.” Lena smiled. “Good oh?” Mai nodded. “Very.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked back. Ace smiled slowly. Mai pointed at her. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “Probably.” Deja was darker. Cleaner. Movement first. Nothing decorative that could catch when Kiro moved quickly. Controlled lines. A dress that looked restrained until Lena rotated the model and revealed what the back was doing. Brenda whispered: “Fuck.” Iris nodded before realizing she had. Lena smiled. Bea took longer. Elisa's height changed the problem. Long lines. Restrained front. Nothing loud. Then Lena turned the model. The back dropped into a shape that made the entire table go quiet. Ace finally said: “Well, fuck.” Mai nodded. “That's Bea.” Lena saved it. Nova and Vega appeared together. Not matching. Coordinated. Nova carried subtle chrome and gold through the structure. Vega answered with chrome and brass-yellow. The silhouettes shared enough visual language that anyone seeing them together would understand a professional duo. But neither looked like a copy. Brenda studied both. “Can Vega be a little meaner?” Iris looked at her. “The dress?” “Yes.” Lena understood immediately. “Here.” She changed one line. Brenda smiled. “There.” Iris looked at Nova. “And less symmetry between them.” Lena nodded. “Good.” She broke another visual echo. The working partners became more believable immediately. Brenda kissed Iris's cheek. “We're hot.” “We're projections.” “Still hot.” Iris failed not to smile. Sera stopped Lena for almost a full minute. Not because Lena lacked ideas. Because Shammy kept saying no. “No.” Lena changed it. “No.” Another change. “No.” Ace watched. “This is fascinating.” Mai nodded. Lena tried a fourth. Shammy tilted her head. Her silver-white hair lifted slightly at the ends. Not much. Just a faint static response. Her electric-blue eyes brightened. Lena stopped. “That one.” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” The white dress looked architectural. Almost sculptural. Something between evening wear and an argument with gravity. Ace stared. “It looks like Sera designed it.” Shammy looked pleased. “Good.” Then she frowned. “Paint.” Lena blinked. “What?” “Will pigment stain it?” Iris turned slowly toward her. “No.” Shammy looked at her. Iris pointed at Lena. “Whatever it costs, the answer is no.” Lena smiled. “Self-smoothing fabric.” Iris's expression collapsed. Ace whispered: “Worth it.” Iris heard. “I know.” That sounded painful. Then Anna. The room changed again. Because Anna did not exist yet. Not really. The others came with history. Preferences. Habits. Known movement. Known covers. Anna was still a name, platinum hair and Imani's own eyes. Lena looked at Shammy. “You named her.” “Yes.” “What does she look like?” Shammy thought. Then: “Like Imani when she decides not to disappear.” Silence. Ace's expression softened. Mai looked at Shammy. Lena nodded once. Then began drawing. The first attempt was too elegant. Shammy shook her head. The second was too aggressive. Ace shook her head. The third— Brenda leaned forward. “Oh.” Platinum hair above it. Imani's own eyes. Black lipstick. The dress itself was not the most revealing. Not the loudest. Not the strangest. It simply assumed the woman inside it wanted to be seen. No apology in the shoulders. No retreat in the neckline. No visual escape route. Confidence without armor. Shammy smiled. “Anna.” Lena looked at her. “Yes?” “That's Anna.” Ace nodded. Mai did too. Iris studied the projection. Then the budget. Then the projection. Then the budget. Brenda watched her. “Don't ruin the moment.” “I am watching money evaporate.” “Beautifully.” Lena saved the design. Eight silhouettes remained on the display. Different. Coordinated. One collection without uniforms. Ace stood beside them. “They need makeup.” Iris made a wounded sound. “No-transfer,” Mai said. Iris looked at her. “You too?” “Absolutely.” Lena nodded. “All eight.” “Hair,” Ace said. “ChromeLock V2 where appropriate.” “Shoes.” “One event pair per look.” “Backup shoes?” Iris snapped her head toward Ace. Ace raised both hands. “I was asking.” Lena looked thoughtful. Iris pointed at her. “No.” Lena smiled. “Fine.” “Thank you.” “Backup shoes go under emergency logistics.” Iris stared. Brenda put her forehead against Iris's shoulder. Ace turned away because laughing openly would have been cruel. Mai did not turn away. Shammy raised her hand. Iris looked at her with exhausted caution. “What?” “Can we call Imani?” Lena looked at Anna's projection. “Yes.” Iris sighed. “Yes.” Shammy called. Imani answered. “Hi.” “Hi.” “We made you.” Pause. “You what?” Ace folded over laughing. Shammy frowned. “Anna.” “That sounded worse.” “Yes.” “Much worse.” “Sorry.” “It's okay.” Shammy turned the camera toward the projection. Nobody spoke. Imani went silent. Long enough that Ace stopped laughing. Shammy waited. Finally: “Oh.” Ace smiled. “Good oh?” Imani laughed softly. “Very good oh.” Lena rotated the model. Imani watched. The platinum hair. Her own eyes. Black lipstick. The dress. Then: “Can you make the lipstick darker?” Lena smiled. “Yes.” “Almost black.” “Black.” Pause. “Yeah.” Ace pointed at the phone. “I like her.” Imani laughed. “Can I see the back again?” Lena rotated it. “Okay.” Another pause. “Fuck.” Brenda grinned. “Correct response.” Imani studied Anna for several more seconds. Then said: “I want to try her.” Shammy smiled. Not the dress. Not the hair. Her. “Good,” Shammy said. Lena saved the final adjustment. The call ended a few minutes later. Iris looked at the total. Nobody spoke. Ace looked at Brenda. Brenda looked at Ace. Mai saw it. “Don't.” Ace looked innocent. “We haven't done anything.” “You're about to.” Iris turned the tablet around. “This is obscene.” Ace read the number. Then looked at the eight designs. “No.” Iris stared. “No?” Ace pointed at the screen. “This is expensive.” “Yes.” She pointed at the dresses. “That's obscene.” Lena smiled. Brenda nodded. Mai laughed. Iris looked around the table. Nobody was going to help her. She looked at the number one last time. Then pressed **APPROVE**. Ace threw both arms into the air. Brenda did the same. Shammy joined them. Iris immediately regretted everything. Lena picked up her tablet. “Good.” Iris looked at her. “Good?” “Yes.” “What happens now?” Lena smiled. “Now I start spending it.” Iris closed her eyes. The budget had survived eleven seconds. The approved budget lasted less than one. --- ## Chapter 6: People Who Know Your Face The guest list arrived the next morning. Iris opened it over coffee. Then immediately closed it. Ace looked up. “What?” “Nothing.” “You made the face.” “What face?” “The face where a spreadsheet has personally offended you.” “It has twenty-three names.” Mai looked over. “We wanted twenty.” “We invited twenty.” Brenda leaned across Iris's shoulder. “Maybe three reproduced.” Iris looked at her. “Overnight?” “Corpos.” “That is not how corpos work.” Ace took another sip of coffee. “Depends on the merger.” Mai choked. Shammy looked between them. “I don't understand.” “Good,” Iris said. Ace smiled. “I can explain.” “No.” Shammy looked disappointed. Iris reopened the list. Twenty invited guests. Three alternates. That was better. Existing clients first. People O'Sullivan already knew. Security directors. Operations people. Two executive assistants whose employers had learned the expensive way that ignoring them was a mistake. A risk manager. A logistics executive. A woman whose title contained six words and explained none of her actual power. Then prospects. People they had met through existing work. Referrals. People who had asked careful questions after hearing the O'Sullivan name from someone they trusted. No random invitations. No crowd-building. No one there merely because they were rich. Ace moved beside Iris. “Which ten are ours?” Iris highlighted them. “Existing relationships.” “And the others?” “Eight direct prospects. Two referrals we haven't met.” Mai looked at her. “Good balance.” “That was the intention.” Brenda pointed at one name. “I know her.” Iris looked. “You met her once.” “She remembers me.” “Why?” Brenda smiled. Iris stared at her. “Never mind.” “Correct.” Ace leaned closer. “Do any of them know Mandi?” Iris looked at her. “That is one of the questions.” “Dalia?” “Also one of the questions.” “Nova and Vega?” Brenda sat up. “Oh.” Iris nodded. “Exactly.” The room became more serious. Covers worked because context worked. A person could look directly at someone they technically knew and fail to connect the identities if enough signals said they were looking at somebody else. But recognition was not binary. It accumulated. Face. Voice. Movement. Height. Hair. Eyes. Habit. Context. Memory. And sometimes one stupid sentence someone had heard six months earlier. Mai pulled another chair over. “We review everyone against every hostess.” Ace looked at the twenty names. “All eight?” “Yes.” “That'll take forever.” Iris looked at her. “It will take less time than explaining why Amber O'Sullivan was working her own event as Mandi.” Ace considered. “Fair.” Shammy appeared beside them. “Do I count?” Mai looked at her. “As Sera?” “Yes.” “You're publicly Sera already.” “So?” “So recognition is expected.” Shammy nodded. “Easy.” Ace pointed at her. “Show-off.” Sera required no concealment from people who knew Sera. That was the point. The others were different. Nova and Vega came next. Iris and Brenda reviewed the names together. No direct problem. A few people might know Ms. B by reputation. None had enough personal familiarity with Iris to bridge Nova back to her through the Marlow cover. Jessie O'Sullivan was more delicate. One existing client had met Jessie briefly. Brenda studied the name. “How briefly?” Iris looked through the notes. “Seven minutes.” “Was I memorable?” Everyone looked at her. Brenda sighed. “Stupid question.” Mai smiled. “With Vega's face?” “Different enough.” “Voice?” “Different.” “Hair and eyes?” Brenda grinned. “Very different.” Ace nodded. “Vega survives.” Iris changed the status to low risk. Deja was easier. Kiro had appeared around some O'Sullivan work, but not enough of these people knew her personally. Deja's hair, styling, face presentation and behavior would do most of the work. Her voice remained Kiro's. That mattered. Iris marked two names for caution. “No isolated conversation with either of these unless you're comfortable with it.” Kiro was not there to answer. Mai added a note. **REVIEW WITH KIRO.** Bea required Elisa. Iris called her. This time Ace was not allowed to touch the phone. “That feels discriminatory.” “It is preventative.” Elisa answered. “Morning.” “Morning,” Iris said. “Guest list.” “Oh.” “Twenty.” “Send it.” Iris did. Silence followed. Then: “Okay.” Elisa began going through names. One by one. No. No. Met once, probably irrelevant. No. Recognized company, not person. No. No. Then: “Wait.” Iris stopped. “Which one?” Elisa gave the name. “How well?” “Two dinners.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Elisa's profile on the display. “Recently?” “About a year ago.” “Close conversation?” “Yes.” “Physical proximity?” “Yes.” “Voice familiarity?” Elisa thought. “Probably.” Iris marked the name. “Bea still comfortable?” “Yes.” “Certain?” “Yes. Full cover will carry it.” Ace nodded. Bea's face mesh alone changed the visual read substantially. ChromeLock. Voice. Posture. Clothing. Context. Elisa continued. Another name. “No problem.” Another. “No.” Another. “Actually, I know him.” Iris frowned. “How?” “Palace.” That got Ace's attention. “As Elisa?” “Yes.” “Does he know who you are?” “Yes.” “How well?” Elisa thought. “Enough that I don't want him studying Bea for ten minutes.” Iris highlighted the name. Mai leaned forward. “Do we remove him?” “No.” Elisa answered immediately. Everyone waited. “He belongs on the guest list?” “Yes,” Iris said. “Then don't remove him because of me.” “You are allowed to make that request.” “I know.” “Do you want to?” “No.” Mai smiled. “Then we manage the contact.” “Exactly.” Reyes would get the note. Not because the guest was dangerous. Because cover integrity was easier to preserve when people did not accidentally spend half an hour face-to-face with someone uniquely positioned to solve the puzzle. Elisa finished the list. Two caution flags. No vetoes. “Anything else?” Iris asked. “Yes.” “What?” “Anna.” Ace smiled. “I was waiting.” Elisa ignored her. “Send me Imani's overlap.” Iris forwarded the relevant names. Elisa went through them more slowly. This mattered for a different reason. Anna did not have a face mesh. Not yet. They had deliberately left the question open. Imani knew corporate circles. People knew Imani. The issue was whether anyone in this particular room knew her well enough. Elisa read. “No.” Another. “No.” Another. “She may have met him.” Shammy looked up. “Where?” “Palace, I think.” “Know her?” “No. I mean literally met. Introduction, maybe conversation.” Mai nodded. “Not enough.” Elisa continued. “No.” “No.” “No.” Then stopped. Everyone waited. “No.” Ace blinked. “That was dramatic.” “I was reading.” “You paused.” “There were notes.” “You weaponized silence.” “I learned from Mai.” Mai smiled. “Good.” Elisa reached the end. “That's it.” Iris looked at the screen. “Your assessment?” “Anna doesn't need a mesh.” Ace immediately nodded. Mai did too. Iris asked, “Why?” “Because we're solving a problem she doesn't have.” Elisa's answer came easily. “Platinum ChromeLock changes the first read. Styling changes the second. Black lipstick, dress, context. Victor's voice work will break another recognition path. Nobody on that list knows Imani well enough for her face alone to defeat all of that.” Shammy smiled. “Her eyes stay hers.” “Yes.” Ace nodded. “Which she wanted.” “Exactly.” Iris looked at Mai. Mai considered the list. “No mesh.” Iris looked at Shammy. “No mesh,” Shammy agreed. Then at Ace. Ace frowned. “What?” “I'm waiting for you to propose one anyway.” “I don't want one.” Iris blinked. Ace pointed at Anna's design. “That's her face.” The room quieted. Ace shrugged. “She picked her eyes. We picked the hair with her. She likes the lipstick. Lena found the dress. Victor will find the voice.” She looked at the projection. “If we don't need to replace her face, why would we?” Shammy smiled. Mai kissed the top of Ace's head. Ace looked up. “What was that for?” “Nothing.” “That was a proud kiss.” “It was a kiss.” “Proud.” Mai ignored her. Ace smiled. “Proud.” Iris changed Anna's cover specification. **FACE MESH: NOT REQUIRED** That saved money. Iris stared at the line. Then refreshed the total. Her expression changed. Brenda noticed immediately. “Oh my God.” “What?” “You're happy.” “I am not.” “You are.” “I am pleased that something became cheaper.” Brenda put both hands around Iris's face and kissed her. Iris made a startled sound. When Brenda released her, Iris stared. “What was that?” “Celebration.” “We saved one face mesh.” “Exactly.” Ace looked at Mai. “Should we celebrate every budget saving like that?” “No.” “Why?” “Because you'll start inventing expenses just so you can remove them.” Ace paused. Mai stared. Ace looked away. “You already thought of it.” “No.” “You did.” “Atmospheric thinking.” Shammy laughed. Her hair lifted faintly at the ends. Ace pointed at her. “She remembers.” “I like that phrase.” “You may use it.” “Thank you.” Iris scrolled back to the guest list. “Now we have another problem.” Ace sighed. “Why do you always find another problem?” “Because that's my job.” “What?” “The venue.” Ace stopped. Brenda leaned forward. Mai looked at Iris. Iris rotated the screen. Twenty guests. Eight hostesses. Dining. Bar. Dancing. Terrace preferred. Private conversation spaces. Twelve private rooms had been their working assumption. Separate access. Hostess preparation space. Security control. Service access. Privacy. No cameras or audio in private rooms. Emergency call systems. A layout Reyes could actually secure without turning the evening into a checkpoint. Ace read the requirements. Then read them again. Her expression became suspiciously neutral. Mai noticed. “Ace.” “Mm?” “You know somewhere.” “No.” Mai waited. Ace looked at the screen. Mai continued waiting. Ace shifted slightly. Brenda noticed. “Oh.” Iris looked between them. “What?” Mai smiled. “Ace knows somewhere.” “I know lots of places.” “A place that fits this.” Ace looked at her. Mai said nothing. That was worse. Ace sighed. “Maybe.” Iris leaned forward. “What place?” Ace named it. Silence. Brenda looked impressed. Iris looked at the venue information. Then at Ace. “How do you know that place?” Ace looked at Mai. Mai smiled. There was no jealousy in it. Only patience. Terrible, terrible patience. Ace looked back at Iris. “I've been there.” “As Ace?” “No.” The room changed. Brenda's grin arrived first. Shammy looked interested. Iris stared. Mai's smile widened by perhaps one millimeter. “Mandi,” she said. Ace sighed. “Mandi.” Brenda leaned onto the table. “For what?” Ace looked at her. “What do you think?” Brenda's grin became radiant. Iris pointed at her. “Do not interrogate her.” “I asked one question.” “You were preparing twelve more.” “Eleven.” Ace looked betrayed. “Thank you?” Mai rested her chin on one hand. “How many times?” Ace looked at her. There it was. The silence. Ace hated that silence. “Not many.” Mai continued looking at her. “Define not many.” Ace frowned. “This is harassment.” “No.” “Interrogation.” “No.” “Hostile workplace.” “You live here.” “That doesn't make it better.” Mai waited. Ace sighed. “A few.” Brenda made a tiny noise. Ace pointed at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You made a sound.” “Atmospheric thinking.” Shammy laughed again. Ace glared at both of them. Iris, somehow, remained focused. “You've worked there as Mandi?” “Yes.” “Private bookings?” “Yes.” “Venue staff know Mandi?” “Some.” “Would they identify you to guests?” “No.” “You're sure?” Ace's expression became serious. “Yes.” That was enough for Iris. Mai still looked amused. Ace noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're enjoying this.” “A little.” “I knew it.” Mai leaned over and kissed her. “Later.” Ace blinked. Brenda looked at Iris. Iris looked determinedly at the guest list. Shammy looked between Ace and Mai. “What happens later?” “Nothing,” Iris said. Ace and Mai both started laughing. Shammy frowned. “That means something.” “Yes,” Brenda said. “Do not help,” Iris muttered. Mai returned to the venue. “Does it actually fit?” Ace nodded. “Main lounge. Dining can be reconfigured. Bar. Dance floor. Terrace.” “Private rooms?” “Twelve.” Iris looked up. Exactly twelve. Ace continued. “Separate corridor. Controlled access point.” “Prep?” “Yes.” “Service route?” “Yes.” “Security?” “Venue has its own, but Reyes will hate relying on them.” “Good,” Iris said. Ace blinked. “Good?” “If Reyes hates something before seeing it, she'll inspect it properly.” “Fair.” Mai looked at the venue name. “When can we see it?” Ace smiled. “I can call.” Iris pointed at her. “Not as Mandi.” Ace stopped. Brenda folded over laughing. “I wasn't going to.” “You absolutely were.” “I can call professionally.” “As Ace?” “No.” Iris stared. Ace sighed. “Fine. You call.” “Thank you.” Shammy looked at Anna's specification again. “No mesh.” Mai smiled. “No mesh.” “And later Victor makes the voice.” “Yes.” “When?” Mai glanced at Iris. “Close to the event.” Shammy nodded. Not because the voice needed days to become ready. It didn't. Victor's temporary biosculpt would take effect with the procedure itself. The reason to schedule it close to the evening was the opposite. Once changed, the cover voice stayed physically changed throughout its active working window. There was no switching back for a meeting. No normal voice between rehearsals. No button. No profile. And after days, the effect would begin to fade. Which meant timing mattered. Not yet. First the venue. Then the final looks. Then Amber and Maeve still had something important to record while Ace and Mai could still sound like themselves. Only after that would Victor get six throats to ruin his afternoon. Ace looked at the venue details. Mai looked at Ace. Iris was already contacting management. Brenda was still smiling about the words _private bookings_. Shammy had returned to Anna's platinum hair. And somewhere several districts away, Victor Vektor was enjoying a perfectly normal day. Nobody had warned him yet. --- ## Chapter 7: Unfortunately, We Can't Be There The venue survived Reyes. Technically. By the end of the walkthrough, the manager had agreed to a dedicated security channel, a final staff roster forty-eight hours before the event, temporary credentials controlled jointly with O'Sullivan security, a live emergency-system test on event day, and the apparently revolutionary principle that nobody would override a locked private-room door merely because they possessed a master credential. Reyes had approved the place conditionally. Ace called that approved. Iris called it conditional. Ace called that pessimism. Reyes had told both of them to shut up. Now the venue was waiting. Lena's dresses were becoming real. The guest list was locked. Anna had survived the recognition review without needing a face mesh. Victor had been warned that six people would soon require temporary voice biosculpt. His entire response had been: **Six?** Mai had replied: **Yes.** A minute later: **Coffee.** Ace had considered the appointment confirmed. But nobody was going to Victor's clinic yet. There was one thing Ace and Mai had to do first. Amber O'Sullivan stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her jacket. Then adjusted it again. Lena watched from three meters away. “Stop.” Amber looked at the cuff. “It's wrong.” “It isn't.” “It moved.” “You moved.” “That shouldn't matter.” “It is clothing. That is the primary situation it was invented to survive.” Amber looked unconvinced. The suit was dark, expensive and cut for a woman who was 145 centimeters tall without making the slightest attempt to disguise the fact. That mattered. Amber did not become taller under cover. She became easier to underestimate. Her short hair was ChromeLocked blonde, maintaining Ace's familiar short silhouette while changing almost everything people thought that silhouette meant. Blue contacts replaced violet. Bright wife. Polished business owner. Approachable. Feminine. Small. And, if someone was stupid enough to confuse any of those things with harmless, potentially the last mistake they made that week. Amber pulled the jacket down by perhaps three millimeters. Lena slapped her hand away. “Hey.” “Stop.” “I am wearing it.” “I know.” “I need to know what it does.” “It sits on your body.” “When I move.” “You've moved.” “When I sit.” “You've sat.” “When I reach.” “You've reached.” Amber frowned. “What if I climb?” Iris looked up from the script. “During the prerecorded corporate welcome video?” “Hypothetically.” “No climbing.” “You don't know what could happen.” “We're recording in the safehouse.” “That has never made anything safer.” Brenda nodded. “She has a point.” Iris looked at her. “Do not validate her.” Shammy stood near the camera holding the slate. Nobody had given it to her. Nobody knew where she had found it. She opened it. Closed it. Opened it again. “What does this do?” Brenda looked over. “You clap it.” “Why?” “It tells the camera you're starting.” Shammy looked at the camera. “Can't we just tell it?” Ace started laughing. Iris closed her eyes. Brenda answered seriously. “It likes the clap.” Shammy nodded. “Okay.” “No,” Iris said. Shammy looked at her. “No?” “The camera has no emotional relationship with the slate.” “How do you know?” “It is a camera.” Shammy considered that. Then looked directly into the lens. “You're doing very well.” Brenda folded over laughing. Ace joined her. Iris stared at both of them. “This is going to take all day.” “Positive workplace,” Brenda managed. Lena looked toward the changing area. “Maeve!” “Coming.” Brenda inhaled. Iris immediately pointed at her. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “You can't prosecute thoughts.” “Not yet.” Ace smiled. “Give her time.” Then Maeve stepped into the room. Ace stopped smiling. Not because anything was wrong. Quite the opposite. Mai's silver-haired tactical precision was gone from the visual read. Maeve O'Sullivan was a copper-redhead. Not generic red. Copper-red: warm, vivid, deliberate, the color held perfectly by ChromeLock. Green eyes met Amber's blue ones. Her suit was elegant without being decorative, its lines softer than Mai would normally choose and somehow more dangerous for it. Maeve did not look like Mai pretending to belong in an expensive room. Maeve looked like the room had been built after asking what she preferred. Ace stared. Maeve stopped. “What?” Ace continued staring. Brenda smiled. Shammy's eyes brightened. Lena waited. Ace finally said, in Amber's brighter cadence: “My wife is fucking gorgeous.” The light Irish inflection came naturally with the cover. Not broad. Not theatrical. Just enough to belong to Amber O'Sullivan. Maeve's answering voice remained physically Mai's voice, but the delivery softened, polished itself, and picked up the same subtle Irish background texture. “Language, darling.” Amber smiled. “There she is.” Maeve walked over. Her hand went automatically to Amber's collar. Amber looked down. “What are you fixing?” “Nothing.” “Then why are you touching it?” “Because if I don't, you will.” Amber considered. “Fair.” Maeve smoothed the collar anyway. Then kissed her forehead. Brenda pointed. “That.” Iris looked up. “What?” “The wife thing.” Amber looked at her. “I am her wife.” Ace wasn't. Not yet. Mai wasn't. Not yet. But Amber and Maeve were legally and publicly married, and they had inhabited that marriage long enough that the tiny gestures required almost no performance at all. Maeve's hand rested briefly at Amber's waist. Amber leaned into her without thinking. Brenda smiled. “Exactly.” Shammy clapped the slate. Everyone jumped. She looked delighted. “Starting.” Iris stared at her. “We weren't.” “Oh.” “You have to wait until we're ready.” Shammy nodded. Then looked at the camera. “Sorry.” Ace made a strangled noise. Mai turned away laughing. Iris took the slate. “No more camera encouragement.” Shammy looked disappointed. Brenda whispered: “I still think it appreciates you.” “Thank you.” “Brenda.” “What?” Lena pointed at Amber and Maeve. “Marks.” They moved into position. The setup was intentionally restrained. Warm neutral background. Discrete O'Sullivan SAS branding. No enormous desk. No fake office. No Night City skyline pretending they had rented the top three floors of a tower. Just the two public owners of O'Sullivan SAS standing together. Married. Polished. Comfortable. Expensive enough. Iris checked framing. Amber immediately looked at the monitor. “I'm too low.” Everyone stared at her. Amber pointed. “In the frame.” Maeve closed her eyes. Brenda fell against the table. Lena said: “Platform.” Amber looked offended. “I don't need a platform.” “You just complained.” “Camera angle.” “The camera is correct.” “Then Maeve is too tall.” Maeve looked down at her wife. “Careful.” Amber smiled sweetly. “I love every centimeter.” Silence. Brenda slowly put both hands over her face. Iris whispered: “Please.” Shammy looked between them. “That was nice.” “Thank you,” Amber said. Lena moved the camera. Three centimeters. Amber looked at the monitor. “Perfect.” Iris stared. “You could have stood on the platform.” “I have principles.” “Steak is a principle too, apparently.” “Exactly.” Iris regretted remembering that. Finally: “Ready.” Amber's posture shifted. So did Maeve's. Nothing dramatic. Ace and Mai did not disappear. The covers simply moved to the front. Amber became brighter. Maeve became socially warmer. The familiar wife-rhythm settled between them. Iris started recording. Amber smiled into the camera. “Good evening.” Maeve continued. “We owe all of you an apology.” “Unexpected business has pulled us out of Night City at precisely the wrong time.” Maeve glanced toward her wife. “Which was excellent planning on our part.” Amber nodded solemnly. “Some of our finest.” Brenda bit her fist. Iris kept recording. Amber continued. “We did consider postponing tonight.” “For eleven seconds,” Maeve said. Amber looked at her. “It was at least twelve.” “Eleven.” “Darling.” “Eleven.” Amber looked back at the camera. “Eleven seconds.” Maeve smiled. “You've already made room in your schedules for us. There was no reason our scheduling problem should become yours.” “So the evening continues.” “Everything has been arranged.” “Dinner.” “The bar.” “The terrace.” “Security.” Amber smiled. “And absolutely no presentations.” Maeve: “No contracts.” Amber: “No pitches.” Maeve: “If anyone attempts to show you a quarterly projection, we accept no responsibility for what the other guests may do to them.” Iris's eyebrows went up. Amber looked at Maeve. “That isn't in the script.” Maeve kept looking at the camera. “I know.” Amber's smile widened. Neither broke. Maeve continued. “Tonight is simply an opportunity to spend time with people we already enjoy working with and people we'd like the chance to know better.” “Eat,” Amber said. “Drink.” “Talk.” “Dance.” Amber paused. Then: “And because twenty people trapped in a beautiful room with nothing but corporate conversation sounds suspiciously like punishment—” Brenda lost it. A sharp laugh escaped. Iris stopped the recording. Amber turned. “Brenda.” “Sorry.” “You ruined the best line.” “I know.” “It was excellent.” “I know.” Maeve looked at Iris. “Keep it?” Iris sighed. “Yes.” Amber smiled triumphantly. “See?” “We are not doing another twenty improvisations.” “Nineteen?” “No.” “Five?” “No.” “One?” “Positions.” Amber muttered something in Irish-accented indignation. Maeve kissed the top of her head on the way back to her mark. Take two failed because Shammy silently gave the camera two thumbs up behind Iris. Take three failed because Amber noticed a fold in her jacket halfway through the opening and tried to fix it without moving her shoulders. Take four failed because Maeve saw her doing it. Neither spoke. Maeve merely looked down. Amber looked up. Maeve raised one eyebrow. Amber stopped touching the jacket. Then Brenda started laughing. Iris stopped the recording. “This is impossible.” Lena looked at the time. “You've been recording for twenty-six minutes.” “It feels like six hours.” Shammy smiled. “The camera is still doing well.” Iris pointed at her. “Do not.” Shammy lowered her hand. Take five. Amber and Maeve settled. Iris started recording. “Good evening,” Amber said. “We owe all of you an apology,” Maeve continued. “Unexpected business has pulled us out of Night City at precisely the wrong time.” “Excellent planning on our part.” “Some of our finest.” Amber's blue eyes warmed. “We considered postponing tonight.” “For eleven seconds.” “Twelve.” “Eleven.” Amber looked into the camera. “Apparently eleven.” Maeve's green eyes showed quiet amusement. “But you've already given us your time. We're not going to waste it.” “So the evening continues.” “Dinner is arranged.” “The bar is open.” “The terrace is yours.” “Security is there if you need it and otherwise intends to remain pleasantly uninteresting.” Amber smiled. “And there are no presentations.” “No contracts.” “No pitches.” “If anyone produces a quarterly projection—” Maeve glanced at Amber. Amber waited. “—please be kind.” Amber stared at her wife. Maeve's mouth curved. “I have to work with these people later.” Amber sighed. “Fine.” Maeve returned her attention to the camera. “Tonight is simply an opportunity to spend time with people we already enjoy working with and people we'd like the chance to know better.” “Eat.” “Drink.” “Talk.” “Dance.” Amber's smile became slightly more mischievous. “And because twenty people trapped in a beautiful room with nothing but corporate conversation sounds suspiciously like punishment—” Maeve continued smoothly. “—we've arranged some additional company for the evening.” Amber: “Eight hostesses will be joining you.” That was the line. Iris marked the timing without interrupting. At the venue, the doors would begin opening there. Maeve continued. “They are there to enjoy the evening with you.” Amber: “Talk to them.” Maeve: “Dance with them.” Amber: “Flirt with them, if everyone involved likes the idea.” Maeve: “And if mutual interest takes any of you somewhere more private, the venue is prepared for that as well.” Amber's expression softened. “But nothing is expected.” “From them or from you.” “No scorecard.” “No objective.” “Enjoy the evening however you choose.” Amber looked toward Maeve. Maeve looked back. For a moment the camera caught something that had nothing to do with covers. Then Amber turned back. “We're genuinely sorry we can't be there.” Maeve's smile was warm. “Try not to miss us too much.” Amber: “Enjoy yourselves.” Iris let the camera run. One second. Two. Cut. Nobody moved. Then Ace's shoulders relaxed. Mai exhaled. The O'Sullivans receded without vanishing entirely. Iris looked at the recording. “That's it.” Ace immediately looked down at her jacket. Lena slapped her hand away. “I wasn't doing anything.” “You were thinking about it.” “Apparently that's illegal now.” “Only for you.” They replayed the take. Amber and Maeve appeared on the monitor. Short blonde hair. Blue eyes. Copper-red hair. Green eyes. Two subtle Irish inflections. Two women who looked exactly like what the public record said they were: Amber and Maeve O'Sullivan. Wives. Owners of O'Sullivan SAS. Unable, regrettably, to attend their own evening. Iris paused on the hostess line. **Eight hostesses will be joining you.** “This is where the doors open.” Ace moved closer. The venue footage and timing plan appeared beside the recording. No spotlight. No announcement. No parade. The doors simply opened while Amber and Maeve remained on the enormous screen. Eight women entered naturally. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Bea. Nova. Vega. Sera. Anna. Ace stared at the composite preview. Giant blonde Amber behind them. Mandi walking into the room below her. Copper-red Maeve continuing to speak. Dalia entering beneath her. Ace started smiling. “Oh, fuck.” Mai smiled too. “Yes.” “That is evil.” “Very.” “They're going to look directly at us.” “Yes.” “And then at us.” “Yes.” Ace pointed between the screen and imagined room. “Us and us.” Mai laughed. “Try to survive.” Brenda moved beside them. “I want to watch someone tell Mandi that Amber O'Sullivan scares the shit out of them.” Ace's smile became dangerous. “I've heard she's adorable.” Iris looked at her. “No.” “What?” “You are absolutely going to say that.” “Only if someone gives me the opportunity.” “That is what worries me.” Shammy studied the screen. “Can Sera wave at Amber?” Four voices answered: “No.” Shammy blinked. “Okay.” Pause. “Maeve?” “No.” “Both?” “Shammy.” She smiled. “I understand.” Ace looked at her. “You're still thinking about it.” “Yes.” “So am I.” Mai looked down at Ace. “Don't.” “I won't.” “Neither of you.” Shammy nodded. Ace sighed. “Fine.” Iris saved the final take. Then made a second copy. Then a third. Ace watched. “Paranoid.” “Professional.” “Same thing with invoices.” “Exactly.” Iris closed the project. “Video done.” That changed the room. Mai felt it first. She looked at Ace. Ace looked back. The reason they had needed the video now rather than later had just disappeared. Amber and Maeve were safely recorded. Their real physical voices were captured beneath the cover delivery and subtle Irish inflections. Nothing else required Ace and Mai to retain those voices before the event. Ace's smile slowly appeared. “Victor.” Mai nodded. “Victor.” Shammy brightened. “Six.” Iris looked at the roster. Mandi. Dalia. Bea. Nova. Vega. Anna. Six covers requiring temporary physical voice biosculpt. Deja did not. Kiro's own voice belonged to Deja. Sera did not. Sera sounded like Shammy because Sera was Shammy. The six biosculpts would be done close to the event. Not because they needed time to settle. They didn't. Once Victor performed the procedure, the altered voice was physically present. Immediately. And once it was present, there was no switching back and forth between cover voice and original voice. No profile. No toggle. No convenient Amber voice for Ace or Maeve voice for Mai until the biosculpt began naturally fading after its multi-day active window. That was precisely why the recording had come first. Iris looked at the clock. “Clinic tomorrow?” Mai nodded. “Works.” Ace looked at herself in the monitor. Amber still looked back. Short blonde hair. Blue eyes. Ace touched one side of her collar. Checked the jacket again. Then looked at Mai. Copper-red Maeve stood beside her. Green eyes. Elegant. Warm. Her wife. For the cover, completely and legally. Ace let Amber's brighter voice surface one more time. “Going to miss me, darling?” Maeve's softer Irish-inflected delivery answered. “Terribly.” Ace smiled. “Few days.” “Few days.” Mai reached down. Ace rose onto her toes. They kissed. Brenda made an appreciative little sound. Iris looked at her. “What?” “They're cute.” “They're always cute.” Brenda stared. Iris realized what she had said. Brenda's smile became enormous. Iris pointed. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “Administrator voice.” Iris closed her eyes. Shammy picked up the slate. “No.” Shammy stopped. Iris pointed at it. “Whatever you're about to do, no.” Shammy looked at the slate. Then at Ace. Ace bit her lip. Mai shook her head. Shammy slowly put it down. “Okay.” Everyone relaxed. Shammy clapped her hands instead. “Victor.” Ace doubled over laughing. Somewhere across Night City, Victor Vektor had absolutely no idea what was coming. --- ## Chapter 8: Six Voices Ace spotted Imani first. Shammy reacted first. “There.” Ace followed her gaze across the station concourse. Imani had just emerged from the arriving crowd with a travel bag over one shoulder, looking around for them. Shammy waved. Imani saw her. The tiredness left her face. “Shammy!” She crossed the distance quickly. Shammy met her halfway. Their hug was immediate and close, Imani's bag trapped awkwardly between them until she dropped it beside her foot and solved the problem properly. Ace smiled. Neither woman appeared interested in ending the hug. Eventually Imani pulled back just far enough to kiss Shammy. Warm. Familiar. Unhurried. Then she noticed Ace. Her smile changed. “Hi.” Ace opened her arms. Imani laughed and stepped into them. Ace disappeared against her for a moment. When Imani released her, she looked down. Then farther down. Ace narrowed her eyes. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was just remembering.” “My height has not changed since the Palace.” “I know.” “Probably.” Imani laughed. Ace pointed at her. “Hostile guest.” Shammy picked up Imani's bag. Imani immediately took it back. “I can carry that.” “So can I.” “I know.” “Then why—” “Because it's mine.” Shammy considered the argument. “Okay.” Ace nodded toward the exit. “Come on. Mai's waiting.” Imani's expression warmed again. “And everyone else?” “Most of them.” “Elisa?” “Reyes is collecting her.” Imani nodded. That was enough. --- Several blocks from the safehouse, Reyes waited at the usual kind of handoff point. Ordinary. Public enough not to look suspicious. Far enough from the safehouse that nobody watching Elisa's movements received a useful line pointing toward the building. Elisa arrived with her security escort. Reyes stepped away from her vehicle. The procedure was familiar. Brief identification. Status confirmation. A few quiet words between the two security sides. No performance. No drama. No treating Elisa like cargo being transferred. One security chain ended responsibility. Another accepted it. Then Elisa was standing beside Reyes. “All good?” Reyes asked. “Yes.” Reyes opened the passenger door. Elisa looked at it. Then at her. “You know I can open doors.” “I know.” “You keep doing that.” “Yes.” Elisa smiled and got in. Reyes closed the door. By the time she reached the driver's side, the other escort was already leaving. Handoff complete. Reyes got behind the wheel. Elisa looked at her. “You're coming to Victor's.” Reyes started the vehicle. “Security.” “That wasn't a question.” “Good.” Elisa smiled. “You're curious.” “I need to understand any operational limitations created by the biosculpt.” “Of course.” “Duration.” “Obviously.” “Immediate restrictions.” “Very important.” “Voice degradation during the event window.” Elisa nodded solemnly. “Essential security information.” Reyes looked at her. Elisa's smile broke. Reyes pulled into traffic. “Shut up.” Elisa laughed. --- The safehouse upper doorbell sounded. Mai was already moving before the camera image fully resolved. Reyes. Elisa beside her. Mai opened the manual upper door. Elisa stepped through. Saw her. Everything else stopped mattering. Her face lit. “Mai.” Mai barely had time to smile before Elisa reached her. Elisa's hands came up around her. Mai's settled at Elisa's waist. The kiss was long. Not tentative. Not surprising. Not something either woman had been waiting to discover whether the other wanted. They already knew. It carried the easy hunger of lovers who had spent time apart and were finally standing in the same room again. Ace appeared from the living area. Saw them. Smiled. Reyes stepped inside behind Elisa and closed the upper door manually. She looked at Ace. Ace looked at her. Neither needed to comment. Mai and Elisa finally separated. Only enough to breathe. Elisa smiled at her. “Hi.” Mai laughed softly. “Hi.” Then Elisa looked past her. Ace was waiting. That smile changed again. “Ace.” Ace had exactly enough time to open her arms. Elisa crossed the space between them. Ace rose slightly onto her toes as Elisa bent down. Their kiss lasted just as long. Ace's arms circled Elisa's neck. Elisa's hands settled securely around her waist. Familiar. Affectionate. Hungry enough to be unmistakable without needing to become anything else. When they finally separated, Ace stayed close. “Hi.” Elisa smiled. “Hi.” Ace kissed her once more. Shorter this time. Just because she could. Mai stepped in beside them. Elisa reached for her hand without looking. The three of them stood together for another moment. Nothing new being negotiated. Nothing newly discovered. Just an established shape settling back into place. Then Shammy arrived. “Elisa!” Elisa laughed. The moment widened. Shammy hugged her. Elisa hugged back. Then Imani appeared behind Shammy. Elisa's eyebrows rose. “You made it.” Imani smiled. “I survived Night City public transit.” Ace looked offended. “We collected her.” “That probably helped.” “It absolutely helped.” Imani hugged Elisa. Brenda and Iris joined them next. The safehouse filled quickly with overlapping greetings. Reyes escaped toward the coffee before anyone decided she needed hugging too. Brenda noticed. “Coward.” Reyes poured coffee. “Professional.” “Same thing?” “No.” Ace was still beside Elisa. Mai was on her other side. Iris looked at the three of them. Then at Reyes. “You're staying?” “For Victor.” Ace turned. “Oh?” Reyes took a drink. “Security.” Elisa looked innocent. “She's curious.” Reyes slowly lowered the cup. “Elisa.” “What?” Ace's grin appeared. Reyes pointed at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You're visibly preparing to.” “Atmospheric thinking.” Shammy laughed. Reyes looked around the room. “I regret coming here.” “No, you don't,” Brenda said. Reyes ignored her. On the main display waited six names. **MANDI** **DALIA** **BEA** **NOVA** **VEGA** **ANNA** Below them: **VOICE BIOSCULPT — VICTOR** Imani stopped in front of the screen. Anna. Seeing the name here was different from seeing Lena's design remotely. This was the safehouse. The place where the others prepared for operations. Where covers stopped being sketches and became things people actually carried out into Night City. Anna occupied the same list as Mandi. Dalia. Bea. Nova. Vega. Shammy came beside her. “Nervous?” Imani thought. “A little.” Ace smiled. “Good.” Mai looked down at her. “Why is that good?” “Means she understands us.” “That should make her more nervous.” Imani laughed. “I'm also excited.” “Better,” Shammy said. Imani looked at Anna again. “No face mesh.” “No,” Mai said. “My eyes.” “Yes.” “Platinum hair.” Ace raised her hand. “Yes.” Imani looked at her. “I know that one was you.” “Lena agreed.” “That doesn't make it less you.” Ace smiled. “Fair.” Iris checked the time. “Victor in twenty.” Brenda looked at the six names. “Still weird.” “What?” Elisa asked. Brenda pointed at the screen. “We're going in sounding like ourselves.” “And coming out wrong,” Iris said. Brenda looked at her. “Different.” Iris smiled. “You corrected yourself.” “I learn.” “Occasionally.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Ace pointed. “Cute.” Iris ignored her. Mai looked around. “Ace. Mai. Elisa. Iris. Brenda. Imani.” Shammy raised her hand. “Observer.” Reyes raised her coffee. “Security.” Ace looked at her. Reyes stared back. Ace behaved. Barely. “Let's go.” --- Victor watched them enter his clinic. Ace. Mai. Elisa. Iris. Brenda. Imani. Then Shammy. Then Reyes. He counted. “I was told six.” “There are six,” Ace said. Victor pointed at Shammy. “Seven.” Shammy lifted the coffee carrier. “I brought coffee.” Victor's expression improved immediately. Then he pointed at Reyes. “Eight.” “Observer.” “Why?” “Security.” Elisa made a tiny coughing sound. Reyes looked at her. Elisa looked at the ceiling. Victor decided his coffee was more important. “Fine.” Shammy handed him one. “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” Victor took a drink. Then looked at the six actual patients. “Before we start.” The room settled. “These are temporary physical voice modifications.” Imani nodded. Victor continued. “I am changing how you physically produce sound. This is not software. It is not a filter. There is no profile to activate when you need the cover.” He looked at Ace. “When I finish, the altered voice is the voice you physically produce.” Ace nodded. “No switching back.” “Correct.” “No Amber.” “Correct.” “Until it fades.” “Correct.” Mai smiled. Victor looked around. “The effect begins immediately after the procedure. You are not waiting several days for it to settle or activate.” Imani asked: “How long fully active?” “Your working window is measured in days. The event sits comfortably inside it. After that, the effect begins fading progressively toward your natural voice.” Reyes spoke. “Any expected degradation during the event itself?” “No.” “Post-procedure restrictions relevant to the walkthrough?” “Normal speech is fine. Don't abuse your throats. Don't spend the next two days screaming.” Reyes nodded. “Pain?” “Minor irritation is possible.” Another nod. Victor looked at her. “Anything else?” “Not yet.” Ace slowly turned toward Reyes. Reyes saw her. “Security.” Ace smiled. “Absolutely.” Victor pointed at the chair. “Mandi.” Ace climbed into it. Mai came beside her. Victor loaded the established Mandi target. Distinct from Ace. Distinct from Amber. The voice belonging to neon-orange ChromeLock hair, black contacts, discreet collar and one extremely expensive joytoy cover. Victor worked. No theatrical transformation. Just careful physical modification. Eventually he finished. “Don't speak.” Ace raised her eyebrows. Victor checked the result. One small adjustment. Then: “Now.” Ace looked at Mai. “Hi.” Mandi spoke. Imani's eyes widened. Shammy smiled. Elisa laughed. Reyes's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Mai's expression warmed. “Mandi.” Ace heard herself. “Oh, fuck.” Victor sighed. “Of course.” Mandi grinned. “She's back.” She deliberately tried Amber's brighter delivery. The cadence changed. The physical voice did not. Mandi stopped. “Yep.” Victor folded his arms. “You tested it.” “Obviously.” Reyes asked: “So learned delivery remains intact.” “Yes,” Victor said. “Accent, rhythm, phrasing, habits. The physical voice source is what changed.” Reyes nodded. Mandi looked at her. Reyes looked back. “Security.” “Didn't say anything.” Victor pointed. “Dalia.” Mai sat. Mandi immediately moved beside her. “You do not have to supervise,” Victor said. “Yes, I do.” Mai smiled. “Let her.” Victor loaded Dalia's established target. Lower. Whiskey and smoke. Distinct from Mai. Distinct from Maeve. Strong enough to belong completely to the woman with neon-pink dreadlocks, reflective green eyes and a menthol lollipop between her lips. Victor worked. Mandi watched. When he finished, he checked the result. Then nodded. “Speak.” Mai looked directly at Ace. “Come here.” Dalia's voice rolled through the clinic. Mandi froze. Brenda's eyebrows rose. Iris looked at Mai. Imani whispered: “Wow.” Shammy's silver-white hair lifted faintly around her temples. Her electric-blue eyes brightened. Elisa smiled. Reyes looked from Dalia to Victor's equipment. Then back. Dalia raised an eyebrow. “Well?” Mandi walked closer. “That should be illegal.” Victor frowned. “Why?” “Reasons.” Dalia caught Mandi lightly at the waist before she could climb into her lap. “Behave.” Mandi's expression suggested that this had been a catastrophic choice of wording. Victor pointed. “No.” “I didn't do anything.” “You were about to.” “Everyone keeps saying that.” “Bea.” Elisa sat. Bea's target already existed. Victor reviewed the established parameters, adjusted what he needed for the current procedure and began. Shammy watched. Imani watched even more closely. Reyes watched too. When Victor finished: “Speak.” Elisa looked toward Ace and Mai. “Hi.” Bea spoke. Ace smiled immediately. Mai did too. Shammy's smile followed. “Hi, Bea.” Bea laughed. The emotion was Elisa. The sound wasn't. Imani stared. “That is strange.” Bea nodded. “Wait until it's you.” Reyes looked thoughtful. Victor checked the output. “Good.” Then: “Nova.” Iris sat. Brenda came closer. Victor looked between them. “Distinct voices. Complementary, not matching.” “Yes,” Iris said. “Two different people,” Brenda added. Victor stared at her. “I remember.” “Good.” Nova came first. Controlled. Elegant. Distinct from Iris. A voice that belonged comfortably beside white-void eyes and chrome-gold hair without being defined by either. Victor finished. Iris looked at Brenda. “Hey.” Nova's voice. Brenda stopped. “Oh.” Nova smiled. “Good?” Brenda moved closer. “Very.” Victor pointed at the chair. “Vega.” Brenda sat. Nova remained beside her. Vega needed her own unmistakable cover voice, distinct from Nova's and from Brenda's. More bite. More immediate amusement. A little sharper around the edges. Victor worked. Finished. “Speak.” Brenda looked at Iris. “Hey, sis.” Vega. Nova stared. Vega smiled. “Well?” Nova hugged her. “Very good.” Vega kissed her forehead. Easy. Casual. Exactly the kind of easy affection Nova and Vega already carried naturally as close friends in public. Victor looked toward Imani. “Anna.” The clinic became quieter. Imani sat. Shammy came closer. Anna was the only target without history. Mandi had lived. Dalia had lived. Bea had lived. Nova and Vega had already walked Night City. Anna was still becoming real. Victor looked at Imani. “Same brief?” “Yes.” “Not deliberately seductive.” “Yes.” “Comfortable being noticed.” “Yes.” “Confident without sounding performed.” Imani smiled faintly. “Yes.” Victor nodded. “Talk.” Imani did. He listened. Adjusted. “Again.” She spoke. Another adjustment. Shammy watched her. Victor began the procedure. After a moment Imani reached out. Shammy took her hand. Victor worked. Eventually he stopped. Checked. Made one final correction. Then: “Ready?” Imani nodded. “Speak.” She looked at Shammy. “Hi.” Anna arrived. Shammy went still. Imani did too. The voice was not dramatic. It did not announce itself. Smooth. Adult. Self-possessed. Different enough that someone listening for Imani would not immediately find her. But it sounded natural. Like it belonged to the platinum-haired woman in Lena's design. Shammy smiled. “Anna.” Imani heard herself answer. “Yeah.” Her smile widened. “Oh.” Mandi laughed. “Good oh?” Anna looked at her. “Very good oh.” Victor nodded. “Keep talking.” Anna did. A sentence. Another. Then she laughed. Stopped. Laughed again. “That is really weird.” Bea smiled. “You get used to it.” Reyes looked at Anna for a few seconds. Then at Victor. “Does the modification carry through involuntary vocalization?” Silence. Reyes's eyes narrowed. “Laughing.” Mandi bit the inside of her cheek. “I meant laughing.” “I didn't say anything.” “You didn't need to.” Victor answered. “Yes. Laughter, surprise, ordinary involuntary sounds using the same structures. The modification carries through.” Reyes nodded. “Useful.” Victor looked around. Six voices. Done. Mandi. Dalia. Bea. Nova. Vega. Anna. He started clearing the equipment. “That's it.” Mandi blinked. “No calibration tomorrow?” “No.” “No settling?” “No.” “No activation period?” “No.” “The voices are just active?” Victor stared at her. “You have been talking with yours for the last forty minutes.” Mandi smiled. “I like confirmation.” Victor pointed toward the door. “Out.” Shammy collected the empty coffee carrier. Nova and Vega headed for the exit together. Bea slipped between Ace and Mai and hooked an arm briefly around each of them. Mandi looked up at her. “You sound wrong.” Bea smiled. “So do you.” Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice came from the other side. “Both of you sound exactly right.” Bea looked at her. Then laughed. “Okay. That's again going to take adjustment.” Mandi grinned. “Say coffee.” Dalia looked down. “No.” “Please?” “No.” “Just once.” “No.” Victor pointed harder at the door. “OUT.” They moved. Reyes lingered. Victor noticed. “What?” “One question.” Mandi stopped in the hallway. Reyes saw her. “Keep walking.” Mandi smiled. “I can't hear from over there.” “Good.” Dalia caught her around the waist and steered her farther down the corridor. Reyes looked back at Victor. “If a cover relied primarily on visual change and only needed enough vocal alteration to break immediate recognition, how subtle can you make the modification?” Victor answered without hesitation. “Very subtle.” “Still physically complete?” “Yes. Same principle. Smaller shift.” Reyes nodded. “Good.” Victor looked at her for half a second longer. Then: “Security?” Reyes stared. Victor smiled faintly. “Security.” Reyes left. Elisa was waiting outside. So was Ace. Reyes looked at her. Mandi smiled sweetly. “Operationally useful question.” “Yes.” “Extremely.” “Yes.” “Potentially applicable to—” Reyes pointed at her. “Catering support.” Mandi gasped. “You wouldn't.” “I will change your credential personally.” “You're evil.” Dalia took Mandi by the waist. “Come on.” “But Reyes—” “Walk.” Mandi walked. Elisa fell into step beside Reyes. Ahead of them, six familiar women talked with six voices that no longer matched Reyes's oldest instincts about who should sound like what. Sera's voice remained Shammy's. Deja would remain Kiro's. Those two anchors would make the full group stranger, not less. Reyes listened for a moment. Then Elisa glanced sideways at her. Reyes saw the smile forming. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” Elisa smiled anyway. Reyes looked ahead. “Security.” “Of course.” Ahead, Mandi asked Dalia to say _coffee_ again. Dalia refused. Anna laughed. Bea joined her. Nova told Vega something that made Vega swear. Sera walked among all of them in the only unchanged hostess voice currently present. Reyes followed. Still security. For now. --- ## Chapter 9: Wrong Room Reyes knew exactly who was supposed to be in the room. That was the problem. She stood just inside the venue's main entrance with a tablet in one hand and her final security checklist open in front of her. The venue was closed. No guests. No catering team beyond the two managers completing their own checks. No alcohol being served. No music beyond the low test track coming through the lounge system. Everything was clean, quiet and controllable. Exactly how Reyes liked a security walkthrough. The private-room corridor had already been tested. Primary access. Secondary emergency exit. Manual inside releases. Discreet occupied indicators. Hostess assistance calls. Higher-priority panic triggers. Two-step security override. No cameras. No audio. Reyes had personally confirmed the last two. Twice. The terrace screening was in place. Temporary event credentials had been loaded. The venue's own security staff had been briefed on the division of responsibility. Nobody entered the private wing merely because they looked important enough to belong there. Nobody overrode a locked room because someone claimed their friend was inside. Nobody decided that a hostess leaving a room alone needed to explain why. If either person inside wanted out, they got out. If either person called for help, help came. Simple. Reyes liked simple. Then Lena had told her the hostesses were ready. Reyes had made the mistake of saying: “Send them in.” The service-corridor door opened. A woman Reyes did not immediately recognize walked through. Small. Neon-orange hair. Black eyes. An evening gown cut with enough expensive precision that the compact silhouette looked deliberate rather than merely adapted to her height. Reyes knew the gown. She had watched Lena test its release system. She knew the woman. She had driven Ace to jobs. Fought beside her. Dragged her out of trouble. Watched her drink coffee in the safehouse. Mandi looked across the lounge. Saw Reyes. And smiled. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Wrong voice. Wrong hair. Wrong eyes. Wrong posture. Wrong woman. Reyes's brain produced the identification half a beat late. Ace. Mandi crossed the room. The gown moved cleanly with her. No snagging. No fighting the wearer. High-end eveningwear first. Everything else hidden inside the engineering. She stopped in front of Reyes. “Well?” Reyes looked at her. Mandi spread her arms. “You may admire me.” “I've seen you.” “Not like this.” “I watched Lena build that dress.” “That isn't admiration.” Reyes looked deliberately down at the gown. Mandi waited. Reyes looked back up. “Functional.” Mandi gasped. From the service corridor came a lower voice. “Careful. She'll start crying.” Reyes looked. Dalia entered. That was worse. Neon-pink dreadlocks. Reflective green eyes. Height. Longer lines. A gown built around Mai's physical authority instead of disguising it. Nothing about the dress shouted joytoy. Nothing about Dalia needed to. She looked like someone who belonged in a room full of very expensive people and had already decided which ones interested her. Reyes knew Mai's walk. She knew the way Mai occupied space. But Dalia took those same fundamentals and aimed them somewhere else. Then Dalia smiled at Mandi. Reyes found Mai. Barely. Mandi looked delighted. “Wrong room?” “No.” The answer came too quickly. Mandi's grin widened. Dalia stopped beside her. “Wrong room.” Reyes stared at both of them. “You two are going to be unbearable.” Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice made the sentence that followed even worse. “We haven't started.” Mandi looked up at her. “Can you say coffee?” “No.” Reyes closed her eyes. “You've been doing that since Victor.” “Yes.” “Why?” Mandi considered. “I like the way she says things.” Dalia looked down at her. Mandi smiled. Dalia kissed the top of her head. Reyes returned to her tablet. “Movement test.” Mandi blinked. “Already?” “Yes.” “I've been here twelve seconds.” “Run.” Mandi ran. The transformation was immediate. Not the dress. Ace. One second Mandi was standing in expensive heels and a gown among cocktail tables. The next she was moving. Fast. The gown stayed with her. The shoes held. She cut around a table, changed direction hard, accelerated toward the terrace doors and stopped. Nothing tore. Nothing caught. Nothing migrated somewhere it should not. Mandi looked down at herself. Adjusted the gown automatically at one hip. Smoothed the line with both hands. Checked how it had settled. Then looked at Lena, who was watching from the service doorway. “Left side moved.” “Four millimeters.” “I felt it.” “I know.” “Can we fix it?” Lena stared at her. “It moved four millimeters while you sprinted in an evening gown.” “Yes.” “You are a disease.” “Can we fix it?” “Yes.” Mandi smiled. “Love you.” “No.” Reyes marked the test complete. Dalia was next. Different movement. Different body. Different dress. Same requirement. She could run. Turn. Drop her center of gravity. Reach. Fight if she had to. Evacuate someone if she had to. Nothing in the evening's visual language was allowed to become a trap simply because it was beautiful. Dalia finished. Lena nodded. “No changes.” Mandi looked offended. “Favoritism.” “You moved.” “Four millimeters.” “You complained.” “Because I have standards.” “You have a disorder.” “Standards.” The service door opened again. Deja walked through. Reyes knew Kiro's voice immediately. “Why is Ace arguing with Lena?” The familiar sound hit harder than Reyes expected. Her eyes found Deja. Cold graphite-brown hair. Dark, clean lines. A gown that looked simpler than Mandi's or Dalia's until Reyes watched her move and realized how much of its design was built around control. Nothing visually said Kiro. Then Deja spoke again. Kiro. The mismatch was almost worse than the biosculpts. Mandi pointed at her own hip. “Four millimeters.” Deja stopped. “That is devastating.” “Thank you.” “I don't know how you'll recover.” “Finally, empathy.” Dalia looked at Deja. Something changed. Small. Immediate. Deja's attention settled on her. Not obedience replacing thought. Not passivity. A chosen structure sliding naturally into place because Deja wanted it there. Dalia held out one hand. Deja crossed the remaining distance and took it. Dalia looked her over. Slowly. “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “Shoes?” “Good.” “Release?” “Tested twice.” “Your yes?” Deja smiled. “Still mine.” Dalia squeezed her hand once. “Good.” Mandi looked at Reyes. Reyes was already looking at her tablet. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” Deja glanced between them. “What did I miss?” “Reyes is security.” “I know.” Mandi smiled. “Very security.” Reyes pointed toward the movement path. “Run.” Deja laughed. “Definitely security.” She ran. --- Bea entered quietly enough that nobody noticed her for several seconds. That was impressive because Lena had designed her specifically to be impossible to overlook. The contradiction worked. Ice-blue ChromeLock hair framed her face at jaw length. The gown was restrained from the front. Long clean lines. Nothing demanding attention. Then Bea turned. The back changed the entire thing. Reyes stopped reading. Bea noticed. “Problem?” Wrong voice again. Reyes hated how quickly her instincts reacted to it. “No.” Bea smiled. “Wrong room?” “No.” Mandi called from across the lounge. “She's lying.” “I am not.” “You made the face.” Reyes looked at her. “What face?” “The wrong-room face.” “There is no wrong-room face.” Dalia spoke without turning. “There is.” Reyes stared at the back of her head. Bea laughed. Then Ace appeared at her side. Mandi, Reyes corrected internally. That was going to become irritating. Mandi looked Bea over. “Turn around.” Bea did. Mandi nodded. “Again.” Bea turned again. “That's obscene.” Bea looked down at herself. “I'm less exposed than you.” “Not what I meant.” Mandi walked around her. “That back is a weapon.” Lena spoke from the doorway. “Thank you.” Reyes pointed. “Movement.” Bea sighed. “Everyone?” “Everyone.” “What if I promise not to run during the event?” “No.” Bea smiled. “I tried.” Then she ran. --- Nova and Vega entered together. Reyes recognized neither of them. Not intellectually. Not for the first second. That bothered her more than she expected. Coordinated silhouettes without matching them. Coordinated dresses without mirroring them. Chrome and gold threaded through Nova's presentation. Chrome and brass-yellow through Vega's. White void where Nova's eyes should have been. Black void where Vega's should have been. Their face meshes concealed them independently; Lena's styling connected the two distinct women as a duo. Working partners. Two individually distinct women. Nova said something quietly. Vega laughed. The two biosculpted voices belonged together. That completed the illusion. Reyes knew Iris. Reyes knew Brenda. She knew how Brenda leaned toward Iris. She knew how Iris's expression changed just before Brenda made her laugh. Those things were still there. But Nova and Vega had learned to redirect them. Vega touched Nova's arm. Nova glanced at her. Vega kissed her cheek. Casual. Easy affection between working partners. Easy. Nothing erotic in the gesture. Nothing suspicious about it. Just two working partners arriving together. Then Vega looked at Reyes. “Wrong room?” Reyes stared. Nova smiled. “Oh, definitely.” “Fuck all of you.” Vega laughed. There. Brenda. For half a second. Then the wrong voice swallowed her again. Reyes pointed. “Run.” Nova blinked. “Hello to you too.” “Run.” Vega looked at her working partner. “I think she likes us.” Nova nodded. “Deeply.” They ran. Together at first. Reyes stopped them. “Separate.” Vega put one hand over her heart. “You're splitting up the working partners?” “Emergency evacuation does not care about your branding.” Nova laughed. “She's right.” “I know. I still object emotionally.” They ran separately. The dresses behaved. The shoes behaved. The contacts remained stable. The face meshes showed no visible edge shift under exertion. Reyes marked both complete. When she looked up, Nova and Vega were hugging. “Why?” Vega answered: “We passed.” “You ran across a room.” “Successfully.” Nova kissed her forehead. “I'm proud of you, sis.” Vega looked emotional. “Thank you.” Reyes looked at Iris beneath Nova. Then Brenda beneath Vega. Then lost them again. “Next.” --- Sera did not enter. Sera arrived. Reyes had no better word for it. The service door opened and Shammy stepped through wearing something white that looked as though an architect had been given fabric, a dangerous amount of money and permission to become emotional. Silver-white hair framed the structure. A faint static lift moved through the ends as she crossed the threshold. Her electric-blue eyes brightened when she saw everyone staring. She smiled. “What?” Her own voice. Shammy. Sera. Both. Neither required separation in the same way as the others. Her gown was sculptural without interfering with movement. The silhouette changed depending on angle. Reyes looked at Lena. “How?” “No.” “That wasn't a yes-or-no question.” “It is now.” Sera turned slowly. Mandi stared. “I want one.” Lena stared at her. “You have one.” “I want that one.” “You are one hundred and forty-five centimeters tall.” “So alter reality.” “No.” Sera laughed. Her hair lifted slightly more. Mandi pointed. “See? Even her hair likes it.” “Your dress cost more than several vehicles.” “Not relevant.” Iris's voice came from somewhere behind Nova. “Extremely relevant.” Mandi looked around. For a moment she couldn't find her. Nova raised one hand. Mandi pointed. “See? Wrong room.” Reyes smiled despite herself. Mandi saw it. “Oh!” “No.” “You smiled.” “I did not.” “You absolutely—” “Run, Sera.” Sera looked delighted. “Okay.” She kicked off the mark. Fast. Not Ace fast. Nobody sensible tried to be Ace fast. But fast enough. The architectural gown flexed with her rather than against her. She turned. Stopped. Raised both arms. Everything returned to shape. The fabric smoothed itself. Sera looked down. “Oh.” Lena smiled. That worried Reyes. Sera looked at her. “You did the thing.” “Yes.” “I love the thing.” “I know.” Mandi looked down at her own dress. Then rubbed a tiny wrinkle between two fingers. It disappeared. Her expression became deeply satisfied. “Worth it.” Iris spoke from inside Nova again. “Do not say that where I can hear you.” “Worth every eddie.” “ACE.” Everyone stopped. Nova stopped too. Silence. Mandi slowly looked at her. Nova's white void eyes stared back. Then Vega began laughing. Deja followed. Bea covered her mouth. Sera's hair lifted. Dalia's shoulders moved once. Anna's voice came from the service doorway. “Did she just call Mandi Ace?” Everyone turned. Reyes forgot the tablet. Anna stood there. Platinum-blonde ChromeLock hair. Imani's own eyes. Black lipstick. No face mesh. No attempt to make her unrecognizable through brute force. And yet— Reyes knew Imani. She had seen her at the Palace. Spoken with her. Watched her around Shammy. This woman carried herself differently. Not because Lena had taught her a new walk. Because Imani had put on Anna and discovered she liked being looked at. The gown was the boldest of the eight without being the most revealing. It did not create confidence. It assumed confidence was already there. Anna looked around the lounge. Everyone looked back. She smiled. “Oh.” Sera crossed the room first. Anna's expression warmed. Sera stopped in front of her. Looked her over. Then circled once. Anna laughed. “Seriously?” “Yes.” “Well?” Sera came back around. Her eyes had brightened. “Anna.” One word. Anna's smile widened. Mandi joined them. “Turn.” Anna looked at her. “Why does everyone have to turn for you?” “Quality control.” “Are you qualified?” “No.” Anna turned anyway. Mandi watched. “Fuck.” Reyes looked at Lena. Lena looked unbearably pleased. Anna caught her own reflection in the darkened screen beside the lounge. She stopped. Not posing. Not performing. Just looking. Platinum hair. Black lipstick. The gown. Her eyes. Her own eyes. Anna lifted one hand and touched the edge of her hair. Then smiled at herself. Quietly. Sera saw it. Said nothing. Reyes did too. She looked back at the tablet. “Movement test.” Anna looked at her. “Now?” “Yes.” “I just got here.” “That argument has already failed once.” Mandi raised her hand. “It did.” Anna sighed. Then ran. The dress held. She turned hard enough that the skirt moved dramatically around her. Stopped. Looked down. Everything settled. The expensive fabric slowly erased the evidence. Anna stared. “Oh, that is ridiculous.” Lena nodded. “Yes.” “I love it.” Iris made a wounded sound. Mandi pointed. “See?” “No.” “You haven't even heard the price.” “I have.” Anna looked at Iris. Then at the woman she actually saw. Nova. She blinked. “Oh, that's weird.” Nova smiled. “Thank you.” “No, I mean I knew it was you.” “Still weird?” “Very.” “Good.” Reyes checked her list. Eight. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Bea. Nova. Vega. Sera. Anna. All present. All mobile. All cover systems stable. Then Reyes looked up again. And made herself stop using the names beneath them. That was the point of the exercise. “Mandi.” Ace looked at her immediately. Good. “Dalia.” Mai. “Deja.” Kiro. “Bea.” Elisa. “Nova.” Iris. “Vega.” Brenda. “Sera.” Shammy. “Anna.” Imani. Eight responses. Eight identities. Reyes walked among them. “From this point until I end the walkthrough, cover names only.” Mandi smiled. “Ooh.” “Don't.” “Didn't say anything.” “You said ooh.” “That's not anything.” “It was enough.” Reyes continued. “Venue staff have the cover roster. My external team has the cover roster. Nobody needs your real identity to do their job tonight.” She looked at Nova and Vega. “If either of you uses the observer arrangement, security cares about three things.” Nova nodded. “Everyone consented.” “Correct.” Vega continued. “Observer isn't automatically available to the guest.” “Correct.” Nova: “If the arrangement changes, it gets renegotiated.” “Yes.” Mandi raised her hand. Reyes ignored it. Mandi kept it raised. Reyes continued. “Private rooms are optional. There is no expectation that anyone uses one. Guest or hostess.” Mandi's hand remained up. “No business outcome is attached to anything happening in those rooms.” Mandi's arm was still raised. “No cameras. No audio. Assistance call and panic trigger work independently.” Mandi changed arms. Reyes stared at her. “What?” “Can I go to the bathroom?” Everyone laughed. Reyes closed her eyes. “Go.” “Thank you.” Mandi hurried away. Dalia watched her. Then looked at Reyes. “She actually needed to.” “That somehow makes it worse.” “Yes.” --- The walkthrough became deliberately messy. Reyes wanted interruptions. Cross-traffic. Noise. Doors opening. Doors closing. Hostesses moving between the lounge, terrace, bar, dining area and private wing. Venue staff approaching them. Security checking credentials. Two conversations colliding. Someone changing direction unexpectedly. Nobody got to stand in a neat line and wait for instructions. That would not be the event. Deja and Bea crossed the lounge while talking. Nova and Vega separated without warning and approached different areas. Sera disappeared onto the terrace with Anna. Mandi returned from the bathroom and immediately attached herself to Dalia's side. Reyes sent them apart. Mandi looked betrayed. “Why?” “Because guests may talk to you separately.” “They sound exhausting.” “They haven't arrived yet.” “Exactly.” Dalia touched Mandi's shoulder once. “Go.” Mandi went. Reyes watched. Dalia held structure. Mandi did not need it. Deja sometimes wanted it. Different relationships. Different dynamics. Same woman holding the center when invited. Reyes moved on. She tested the hostess call from private room four. Bea responded first. Not because she was assigned. Because she happened to be nearest. Good. Room seven panic trigger. External security responded. Too slowly. Reyes reset it. Again. Better. She made Vega leave through the emergency route in heels. Vega came back offended. “Those stairs hate women.” “They hate everyone.” “Misogynistic architecture.” “Universal hostility.” “Worse.” Nova kissed Vega's cheek. “You survived.” “Barely.” “Brave.” “Thank you, sis.” Reyes looked away before they could see her smile. She found Sera and Anna on the terrace. They were supposed to be testing privacy screening. Instead Anna was standing near the edge while Sera studied how the venue lighting struck her platinum hair. Reyes stopped. “Are you working?” Sera nodded. “Yes.” “How?” “The light is wrong.” Reyes looked at the terrace. “The security lighting?” “No.” “Then I don't care.” “You will when Anna looks green.” Anna looked at Reyes. “She has a point.” Reyes stared at both of them. Then keyed Lena. “Terrace. Sera says the light makes Anna green.” Lena's voice came back. “It does.” Reyes closed her eyes. “Fix it.” “Already doing it.” Sera smiled. Reyes pointed at her. “Do not look pleased.” “I am pleased.” “I know.” Anna laughed. Reyes walked away. --- Eventually the lounge filled with all eight again. Not lined up. That was important. Mandi was sitting sideways on the edge of a sofa, one heel hanging from her toes while she inspected it. Dalia stood behind her. Deja was at the bar with Bea. Nova and Vega occupied two chairs close enough that Vega's foot rested against Nova's. Sera stood near the screen. Anna had somehow ended up in the center of a conversation with Lena about lipstick. Reyes stopped near the entrance. Looked at them. Tomorrow there would be approximately twenty guests in this room. Food. Drinks. Music. Conversation. Corpo politics. Flirting. People who wanted nothing except a pleasant evening. People who wanted attention. People who might want company. People who might want a private room. People who might not. Eight women moving among all of it. Not assigned. Not catalogued. Not measured by doors closed. Security around the edges. Never the center unless needed. Reyes looked down at her tablet. Every technical item was green. She should have been satisfied. Instead she looked up one more time. Wrong room. Completely wrong room. Mandi noticed. Of course she did. She put her heel back on and stood. Walked over. Stopped beside Reyes. “Still functional?” Reyes looked at her. “Yes.” “Just functional?” “The security plan is good.” Mandi smiled. “That's practically a love letter.” “Don't ruin it.” “I wouldn't dream of it.” Reyes looked across the room. Dalia said something to Deja. Deja smiled. Bea laughed at something Anna said. Vega leaned toward Nova. Sera's hair moved faintly around her shoulders although there was no wind inside. Eight public identities. Six altered voices. Two familiar ones that somehow made everything stranger. Reyes knew every person in the room. She knew exactly what each of them could do. She knew who she trusted. She knew who she would put beside her in a fight. And if she had walked into this venue without warning— She would have turned around. Checked the room number. Then come back in. Mandi watched her. “Wrong room.” Reyes sighed. “Yes.” Mandi's smile became radiant. “Fucking finally.” “Don't get excited.” “Too late.” Reyes looked at the group again. Then at tomorrow's event schedule. “Everyone here at sixteen hundred.” Groans answered from several directions. “Full covers,” Reyes continued. “Final credentials. Final comms check. Emergency test before doors. Nobody improvises security procedure because they think they have a better idea.” Mandi raised her hand. “No.” “I haven't said anything.” “No.” “What if—” “No.” Mandi lowered her hand. Dalia smiled. Reyes continued. “After that, you're hostesses. I stay out of your way unless you need me.” Nova looked at her. “And if we don't?” “Then ideally you barely notice I'm here.” Vega smiled. “That sounds lonely.” “It's security.” Mandi looked at Elisa. Bea looked back. Neither said anything. Reyes saw both of them. “Don't.” Mandi smiled. “Nothing.” “Good.” She closed the checklist. “Walkthrough complete.” For one second nobody moved. Then the room dissolved. Mandi went straight to Lena to complain about four millimeters. Nova and Vega started debating whether the emergency stairs were legally allowed to be that ugly. Deja stole Dalia's attention with one quiet word. Bea joined Anna and Sera. Lena began explaining to Mandi, for the third time, why fabric obeyed physics. Reyes remained by the entrance. Tomorrow, the guests would arrive first. They would see Reyes. They would see the venue. They would drink. Eat. Settle. Then the screen would come alive. Amber and Maeve would apologize for being elsewhere. And while two women who were actually standing backstage spoke from the wall— the door would open. Eight hostesses would enter. Reyes looked at Mandi. Then Dalia. Tomorrow was going to be ridiculous. She smiled. Very slightly. “Security,” she muttered. Nobody heard her. Probably. --- ## Chapter 10: We Regret We Can't Be There At sixteen hundred, Reyes discovered that Mandi had been right about the four millimeters. This irritated her enormously. Not because the adjustment had been necessary. Because Mandi noticed Reyes noticing. The eight hostesses had arrived in staggered groups rather than as one conspicuous collection of extremely expensive women. Lena had been there first. Reyes had been there before Lena. Neither acknowledged this. By sixteen fifteen, the prep suite had stopped resembling a room and started resembling a controlled disaster. Eight gowns. Eight pairs of event shoes. ChromeLock systems. Contacts. Makeup. Emergency replacements. Lena's tools. Comms. Credentials. Enough cosmetics to repaint a small building. And Ace. Ace was standing in front of a mirror in Mandi's completed gown, testing the corrected left side. She twisted. Bent. Straightened. Walked six steps. Turned. Checked the line at her hip. Reyes watched from the doorway. Mandi looked at her reflection. “Better.” Reyes made the mistake of nodding. Mandi saw it in the mirror. “I told you.” Reyes turned away. “Final credentials in ten.” “You told me I was insane.” “I did not.” “Your face did.” “My face has no operational authority.” Mandi smiled. “That is absolutely false.” Lena pointed at her. “Stop moving.” Mandi stopped. For approximately two seconds. Lena adjusted one last detail at her shoulder. “Done.” Mandi looked at herself. Really looked. The compact gown belonged to her. Not merely because it fitted Ace's size. Because it understood Mandi. Expensive. Bold. A little dangerous. Nothing about it apologized for being worn by the smallest woman who would enter the room tonight. Mandi touched the fabric at her waist. Then smiled. “Yes.” Lena saw the expression. “Worth it?” Mandi looked at her. “Every eddie.” From behind them came Nova's voice. “Do not say that where Iris can hear you.” Mandi turned. Nova stood beside Vega. White void. Black void. Chrome-gold. Chrome-brass. Coordinated. Not identical. Mandi grinned. “Iris isn't here.” Nova stared at her. Vega covered her mouth. Mandi waited. Nova's expression remained perfectly composed. Then Vega lost the fight and laughed. “Fuck you.” Mandi pointed. “Vega said it.” “I heard her.” “No, Nova heard her.” Nova slowly turned toward Vega. Vega looked innocent. “Hi, sis.” Nova's mouth twitched. “Hi.” She kissed Vega's cheek. Lena walked between them. “Both of you. Mirrors.” They obeyed. Mostly. Across the room, Deja was already finished. Dark lines. Controlled silhouette. Cold graphite-brown hair. She sat on the edge of a counter while Dalia stood between her knees. Dalia's neon-pink dreadlocks were finally in place. Reflective green eyes caught the prep-room lighting. Her gown made her look even taller than she was. Deja looked up at her. Dalia adjusted one small piece of Deja's neckline. “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “Too tight?” “No.” “Shoes?” “Good.” Dalia looked at her for another moment. Deja smiled. “I'm good.” Dalia touched two fingers beneath her chin. “Tell me if that changes.” “I will.” Then Deja leaned forward and murmured something too quiet for anyone else. Dalia's mouth curved. Mandi appeared beside them. “What did she say?” Deja looked at her. “Private.” “Rude.” “Yes.” Dalia looked down at Mandi. “Go finish getting ready.” “I am ready.” Dalia's eyes moved deliberately to Mandi's feet. Mandi looked down. One shoe. She stared at it. Then at the room. “Who stole my shoe?” Nobody answered. “MOTHERFUCKERS.” Reyes entered at exactly that moment. She stopped. Looked at Mandi. Looked at the single shoe. “No.” “I didn't do anything.” “I don't care.” “My shoe is missing.” Reyes looked around. “Who has Mandi's shoe?” Sera raised one hand. Everyone turned. She was fully dressed. Her architectural gown caught the light differently with every small movement. Silver-white hair carried the faintest static lift around the ends. Her electric-blue eyes were very bright. Mandi stared at her. “Why?” Sera held up the shoe. “I wanted to know whether you'd notice.” Mandi looked deeply offended. “It's a shoe.” “You noticed.” “Give it back.” Sera handed it over. Mandi put it on. “Artist.” Sera smiled. “Joytoy.” “Fair.” Bea laughed from the other side of the room. Mandi looked. Stopped. Then smiled. Bea's ice-blue hair sat at her jaw. Her makeup was immaculate. The restrained front of her gown still lied about what happened when she turned around. Mandi walked toward her. Bea immediately pointed. “No.” “I haven't done anything.” “You're going to make me turn around.” “Yes.” “You've seen it.” “Again.” Bea turned. Mandi sighed happily. “Weapon.” Bea turned back. “You need hobbies.” “I have hobbies.” Dalia's voice came from behind them. “We know.” Mandi looked over her shoulder. Dalia smiled. Mandi visibly reconsidered several life choices. Reyes clapped once. “Credentials.” Eight women looked at her. “Now.” --- Anna was last to leave the mirror. Not because anything was wrong. Because she kept looking. Platinum hair. Her own eyes. Black lipstick. The gown. Anna had existed yesterday as a voice in Victor's clinic. Today the rest of her had arrived. Imani touched the lipstick once with one fingertip. Nothing transferred. Lena saw. “Told you.” Anna looked at her. “I wasn't testing.” “Yes, you were.” Anna smiled. “Maybe.” Sera appeared in the mirror behind her. Anna saw her. Sera came closer. “Ready?” Anna considered. “Yes.” Not I think so. Not probably. Yes. Sera smiled. “Good.” Anna turned. “Do I look nervous?” “No.” “Do I look like I should be?” Sera studied her. “No.” Anna laughed. “Very useful.” “I try.” Sera offered her hand. Anna took it. They left the prep suite together. --- Reyes checked every credential herself. Mandi. Green. Dalia. Green. Deja. Green. Bea. Green. Nova. Green. Vega. Green. Sera. Green. Anna. Green. “Comms.” Eight confirmations came back. Six wrong voices. Two familiar. Reyes still disliked how effective that was. “Emergency test.” Venue security initiated it. Private-room assistance call. Response. Good. Panic trigger. Faster response. Good. Secondary exit. Clear. Terrace. Clear. Service route. Clear. Main entrance. Ready. Reyes looked at the time. Then at the hostesses. “Guests begin arriving in twelve minutes.” Mandi looked toward the lounge. “Where do you want us?” “Not there.” Mandi looked back. “I know.” “Prep suite until reveal.” “I know.” “Then why did you ask?” “I wanted to hear you say it.” Reyes stared. Mandi smiled. Dalia placed a hand on Mandi's shoulder. “Come on.” Mandi allowed herself to be guided back toward the service corridor. Reyes watched the eight disappear. Then the door closed. The venue changed. No hostesses. No visible trick. Just an expensive private social evening waiting to begin. Exactly as planned. --- The first guests arrived seven minutes early. Of course they did. Reyes greeted them near the entrance. Not warmly enough to become hospitality. Not coldly enough to become a checkpoint. Several recognized her. That helped. One older client stopped after the credential check. “Reyes.” “Good evening.” “I didn't know you were with O'Sullivan tonight.” “Security.” The man smiled. “That makes me feel better.” “That is generally the idea.” He laughed and moved toward the lounge. The next group included two existing clients and one woman Reyes had never met. Introductions happened naturally. Coats disappeared. Drinks appeared. Nobody was handed a brochure. Nobody was asked to discuss business. Good. By the time the eighth guest arrived, the room had begun generating its own conversations. By the twelfth, the bar had become a social anchor. By the sixteenth, two separate groups had formed near the terrace. The final arrivals brought the number to twenty-one. One more than expected. Reyes checked. Invited guest. Authorized plus-one. Already cleared. Fine. The room looked right. Not crowded. Not empty. Expensive without becoming ceremonial. People could move. People could sit. People could disappear into quieter corners. Food circulated without demanding attention. Music sat underneath conversation. Nobody knew what was behind the service door. Reyes checked the time. Three minutes. One of the existing clients approached her. “Amber and Maeve aren't here yet?” Reyes kept her expression neutral. “No.” “Late?” “No.” The client waited. Reyes did not help. Eventually he smiled. “That sounded ominous.” “It wasn't intended to.” “Which makes it worse.” Reyes almost smiled. Almost. Across the room, venue staff received the silent cue. Lights adjusted. Not dramatically. Just enough. Conversation continued. Two minutes. --- Behind the service door, Mandi was trying to look through a gap that did not exist. “There are no gaps,” Deja said. “I know.” “Then why are you looking?” “Hope.” Dalia stood behind Mandi. “Step back.” Mandi stepped back. Immediately. Deja noticed. Dalia noticed Deja noticing. Neither commented. Anna was standing near Sera. Her confidence had survived the closed door. That mattered. Bea adjusted one cuff. Nova checked Vega's lipstick. Vega checked Nova's. Neither needed fixing. “Habit,” Vega said. Nova smiled. “I know.” Sera's hair lifted faintly. Anna looked at it. “Nervous?” Sera looked delighted. “No.” “Excited?” “Yes.” “Good.” Mandi turned from the door. “Everybody remember the plan?” Eight women looked at her. Dalia raised one eyebrow. Mandi reconsidered. “Everybody remember Reyes's plan?” “Yes,” Bea said. “Much better,” Deja added. Mandi smiled. A silent indicator beside the door changed. Thirty seconds. The room quieted by itself. Not silence. Focus. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. No Amber. No Maeve. Not tonight. Those women were about to appear on a screen while their bodies stood here wearing completely different lives. Mandi grinned. Dalia's lower voice murmured: “Behave.” Mandi whispered: “No.” The indicator changed again. Ready. --- The large screen in the lounge came alive. Conversation faltered. Then stopped. Amber O'Sullivan appeared. Short blonde hair. Blue eyes. Perfect business presentation. Beside her sat Maeve. Copper-red hair. Green eyes. Elegant. Composed. Married. Together. The contrast hit Reyes harder now that she knew Mandi and Dalia were standing twenty meters away behind a door. Amber smiled from the screen. “Good evening.” The familiar brighter voice carried its natural Irish color. Several guests smiled immediately. Maeve continued. “First, thank you for coming.” Her own physical voice. Softer cover delivery. Elegant. A subtle Irish inflection. Nothing artificial. Nothing like Dalia. Amber glanced toward her wife. Maeve glanced back. The tiny exchange looked effortless. Because it was. “We owe you an apology,” Amber said. One guest near the bar murmured: “Here it comes.” Amber continued. “Something came up.” Maeve's expression suggested she had opinions about the something. “Something,” she repeated. A few guests laughed. Amber looked at her. “We agreed not to discuss this.” “We agreed you would explain it.” “I am explaining it.” “You are using the word something.” “It is a useful word.” Reyes heard laughter spread through the room. Good. The video did not feel like a corporate message. It felt like Amber and Maeve. Amber looked back toward the camera. “Unfortunately, it means we can't be there tonight.” A few disappointed sounds. Real ones. Interesting. Maeve smiled. “We considered postponing.” Amber nodded. “For approximately eleven seconds.” “Seven.” “Eleven.” “Seven.” Amber looked at her wife. Maeve looked back. Amber surrendered. “Seven.” More laughter. Behind the service door, Mandi silently mouthed the argument along with her recorded self. Dalia watched her. Mandi noticed. “What?” Dalia shook her head. On the screen, Maeve continued. “We decided that would be unnecessary. The venue is yours for the evening.” “Food is handled,” Amber said. “Drinks are handled.” “Transportation home can be arranged if needed.” “Please use it.” Amber nodded. “Seriously. Nobody needs to impress us by losing a fight with the bar.” A guest lifted his glass toward the screen. Amber appeared to stare directly at him. The timing was accidental. The effect was not. He slowly lowered the glass. The room laughed. Behind the door, Bea whispered: “That was perfect.” Mandi whispered back: “I know.” Dalia touched one finger to her lips. Mandi became silent. Mostly. Maeve continued. “There are no presentations tonight.” Amber: “No contracts.” Maeve: “No pitches.” Amber: “If someone tries to show you a slide deck, you have our permission to throw them out.” Reyes heard someone near the terrace say: “Best event I've attended this year.” The video continued. “Talk,” Maeve said. “Eat. Drink. Dance if you feel like it.” “Meet people,” Amber added. “Or don't. Nobody is grading you.” A pause. Amber's smile changed. Small. Dangerous. Reyes knew the next line. Behind the service door, eight women straightened almost simultaneously. Amber continued. “We did arrange one other thing.” Several guests looked at each other. Maeve's expression became perfectly innocent. Amber looked toward her. Maeve nodded. Amber faced the camera again. “Eight hostesses will be joining you for the evening.” The service door opened. Not explosively. Not theatrically. It simply opened. Mandi walked through first. Dalia beside her. Then Deja. Bea. Nova and Vega. Sera. Anna. No line. No catwalk. No presentation. They entered as though they already belonged in the room. Conversation vanished. On the screen above them, Amber continued speaking. Mandi heard her own natural physical voice from several meters above her. “Before anybody gets creative about what that means—” Mandi looked up. At herself. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Irish. Businesslike. Tiny. Then she looked at Dalia. Dalia was watching Maeve. Copper-red hair on the screen. Neon-pink dreadlocks beside Mandi. Mai's natural voice above them. Dalia's whiskey-and-smoke voice trapped behind a smile below. For one dangerous second Mandi almost laughed. Dalia's hand brushed hers. Enough. Amber continued. “They're here as company.” Maeve: “Conversation.” Amber: “Dancing.” Maeve: “Flirting, if everyone involved wants to.” Amber: “And yes, some additional possibilities exist.” A few smiles appeared around the room. One guest looked at another. Maeve continued before the implication could become the whole point. “Nothing is expected.” Amber: “Nothing is owed.” Maeve: “No one needs to use a private room.” Amber: “No one needs to do anything except enjoy the evening.” Maeve: “Any introduction is an introduction. Not an assignment.” Amber smiled. “And if all twenty of you spend the entire night arguing about wine and nobody goes anywhere private, we'll consider the evening a success.” Someone near the bar raised a hand toward the screen. “What if we argue about whiskey?” The recording obviously could not answer. Mandi did. “Then you're probably more interesting.” Every head near her turned. Wrong voice. Mandi smiled. Reyes closed her eyes for half a second. Not because anything was wrong. Because of course it was Mandi. The guest who had spoken laughed. “Good to know.” The screen continued. Maeve looked directly into the camera. “One final thing.” The room settled again. “Treat them with the same respect you expect for yourselves.” Amber nodded. “If someone says no, that's the end of the question.” Maeve: “If someone changes their mind, that's the end of the activity.” Amber: “That works in both directions.” Maeve: “Guest and hostess.” Amber smiled. “Other than that—” She looked at Maeve. Maeve looked back. That tiny married-cover exchange again. Then together: “Enjoy yourselves.” The screen went dark. For two seconds nobody moved. Reyes watched the room. Twenty-one guests. Eight hostesses. No instructions left. No pairing. No assignments. No objective. Good. Then one woman near the terrace lifted her glass. “Well.” Vega looked at her. The woman smiled. “I suddenly feel underdressed.” Vega looked slowly down at herself. Then at Nova. Nova performed the same inspection. Vega looked back at the guest. “Honestly?” The guest waited. Vega smiled. “So do I.” The room laughed. And that was enough. Conversation restarted. Not where it had stopped. Everywhere. A man near the bar asked Deja about her dress. Someone else approached Sera and then visibly realized who she was. “Oh.” Sera smiled. “Yes?” “You're Sera.” “Usually.” The guest laughed. Anna was intercepted by a woman who wanted to know where she had found her lipstick. Anna looked toward Lena's invisible location somewhere backstage. “It's complicated.” Bea joined a conversation near the terrace without being summoned. Nova and Vega were approached together, answered together for thirty seconds, then naturally split when another guest joined. Dalia had barely taken three steps before someone asked whether the menthol lollipop she had just produced was part of the look. Dalia put it between her lips. “Maybe.” Mandi was still standing almost directly beneath the dark screen. An older man approached her. He looked familiar. Existing client. He glanced at the screen. Then at Mandi. “You know Amber?” Mandi's face remained perfect. “A little.” Reyes nearly inhaled her own tongue. The man smiled. “She scares the hell out of me.” Mandi considered this. Across the room, Dalia saw her. Saw the client. Saw Mandi's expression. Too late. Mandi smiled sweetly. “I've heard she's adorable.” The man stared. Then laughed. Hard. “Whoever told you that was lying.” Mandi nodded solemnly. “Probably.” Reyes looked away before her face betrayed her. Across the room, Dalia was biting her lollipop to keep from laughing. Deja saw her. “Problem?” Dalia's wrong voice answered: “No.” Deja followed her gaze. Found Mandi. “Oh.” Dalia nodded. “Exactly.” The room continued moving. Nobody had gone toward the private corridor. Nobody seemed to care. Good. A guest had already cornered Sera about art. Anna was talking to two women at once and looked completely comfortable. Bea had somehow acquired a glass of sparkling water and three people around her. Nova was discussing Night City architecture. Vega had made someone laugh loudly enough that Reyes turned automatically. Deja was listening to a guest explain something with intense hand gestures. Dalia was approached by another woman. Mandi abandoned Amber's terrified client and joined a conversation at the bar. Eight women. Twenty-one guests. No catalogue. No queue. No conversion target. Just a room beginning to discover itself. Reyes checked the private-wing indicators. All empty. Perfect. Then she looked back toward the lounge. Mandi was laughing. Dalia had one hand lightly against a guest's forearm while listening. Sera's hair showed the faintest static lift as her art conversation became animated. Anna had forgotten to be nervous. Nova and Vega were on opposite sides of the room. Bea was turning so someone could see the back of her gown. Deja had somehow made a corpo executive blush. Reyes lowered the tablet. The event had been running for less than ten minutes. Already the plan was becoming irrelevant. Not the rules. Not security. Not boundaries. The plan for what people would actually do. That part had never belonged to O'Sullivan SAS anyway. Good. Reyes took one step backward toward the edge of the room. Exactly where she wanted to be. And let the evening happen. --- ## Chapter 11: Nobody Stays Where You Put Them The first thing the evening destroyed was geography. Reyes had known it would. Twenty-one guests did not remain politely distributed through a room simply because the furniture suggested they should. Neither did eight hostesses. Within fifteen minutes, every neat social cluster that had existed before the reveal had broken apart and reassembled twice. The bar lost its original crowd to the terrace. The terrace surrendered half of its people to food. A quiet conversation near the dining area acquired four participants, lost three, gained two others and somehow migrated toward the dance floor without anybody apparently deciding to move it. Mandi started at the bar. Reyes looked away. Mandi was gone. She found her three minutes later sitting on the arm of a sofa beside a woman who had arrived as a plus-one. The woman's name was Celia. Reyes remembered because Reyes remembered everyone. Celia had spent the first part of the evening mostly listening. Now she was laughing. “So you really don't know?” Mandi crossed one leg over the other. “No.” “How can you not know?” “Because nobody tells me anything.” “That is absolutely not true.” “You've known me twelve minutes.” “And I've learned enough.” Mandi looked offended. Celia laughed again. Across from them sat an existing O'Sullivan client named Adrian, who had been listening with the expression of a man discovering that a conversation had escaped him. “What are we talking about?” Celia pointed at Mandi. “Amber.” Mandi became very still. Reyes, passing several meters away, slowed. Only slightly. Adrian looked interested. “What about Amber?” Celia leaned closer. “I asked Mandi whether Amber is actually as terrifying in private as everyone thinks.” Mandi folded her hands primly over one knee. Adrian looked at her. “Well?” “I've heard she's adorable.” Adrian stared. Then Celia laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “You said that already?” Mandi nodded. “To someone else.” “And?” “He called whoever told me a liar.” Adrian lifted his glass. “Smart man.” Mandi's black eyes regarded him. “You're all very cruel to her.” “You know her?” “A little.” Celia looked at Mandi. Then at Adrian. Then back. “I'm beginning to think you know her better than you're admitting.” Reyes waited. Mandi smiled. “Maybe I just have excellent instincts.” Then she slid off the sofa arm. “Excuse me. I see trouble.” Celia looked across the room. “Where?” Mandi was already walking. “Pink hair.” --- The trouble was not Dalia. The trouble was Deja. Dalia merely had it under observation. A man in his forties had been talking with Deja for several minutes. Nothing unusual. He was animated. Deja was interested. Then he noticed the thin structural detail integrated into Deja's presentation and asked a question. Mandi arrived in time to hear: “So the leash is part of the look?” Deja smiled. “Sometimes.” The man looked toward Dalia. Dalia stood a short distance away, speaking with another guest. Her attention appeared to be entirely elsewhere. It wasn't. “And she controls it?” Deja's smile changed. “She holds it.” “Same thing.” “No.” The answer was pleasant. Immediate. The man hesitated. Deja continued. “She holds the leash because I want her to.” He glanced at Dalia again. “And if she tells you to do something?” “I decide whether I want to.” “So what's the point?” Deja considered him. Then smiled. “The point is that I don't have to hold every piece of structure myself.” That made him stop. Not embarrassed. Thinking. Mandi stopped too. She had arrived expecting entertainment. Instead she leaned against the bar and listened. The man looked at Deja. “So you like giving up control.” “No.” A beat. “I like choosing where I don't need it.” That landed differently. The man nodded slowly. “Okay.” Deja's smile warmed. “Okay.” Then Dalia's voice came from beside Mandi. “Were you planning to rescue her?” Mandi looked up. Dalia had crossed the room without her noticing. “No.” “Yes, you were.” “I was investigating.” “Mm.” Mandi looked toward Deja. “She didn't need me.” “No.” “Good.” Dalia put the menthol lollipop back between her lips. Mandi watched. “Coffee.” Dalia stared at her. “Please.” “No.” Mandi sighed. The man speaking with Deja looked toward them. His attention paused on Dalia. Then Mandi. Then back to Deja. “Are you three together?” Deja laughed. “That question has several answers.” Mandi raised one finger. Dalia caught her wrist. “No.” “I was going to help.” “Exactly.” The man laughed. The tension disappeared completely. Deja looked at Dalia. “I'm good.” Dalia released Mandi's wrist. “I know.” And walked away. Mandi followed. Deja called after her: “She said I'm good, not you.” Mandi looked over her shoulder. “Hostile workplace.” --- Sera had acquired a physicist. Nobody knew where the physicist had come from. He had been invited by one of the prospective clients and had apparently spent the first half-hour avoiding every conversation that looked remotely like business. Then he found Sera. Or Sera found him. The distinction had become impossible to determine. They were standing near the terrace doors discussing pigments. Not art. Pigments. Specifically, how certain reactive compounds behaved under rapidly changing electrical fields. “You're actually doing that intentionally?” he asked. Sera's eyes brightened. “Yes.” “Why?” “Because it changes.” “That isn't an answer.” “It is to an artist.” He laughed. “No, that's cheating.” Sera leaned closer. “No. Cheating would be pretending I knew what the result would be.” He stopped. Sera smiled. “I know what the material does. I know what the field does. I know what I do.” She lifted one shoulder. “I don't always know what all three do together.” Her silver-white hair stirred faintly. The physicist noticed. His eyes narrowed. “Is that—” “Probably.” “Probably what?” Sera smiled. “Yes.” He stared at her. Then laughed. Reyes passed nearby. “Everything okay?” The physicist turned. “Yes.” Sera nodded. “Very.” Reyes kept walking. Behind her: “So how much voltage?” “Enough.” “That is not a unit.” “It is in art.” --- Anna had stopped thinking about Anna. That was when Anna began working. Not working in the sense Iris used when looking at contracts. Not working in the sense Reyes used when watching exits. Working because the cover no longer required conscious maintenance. Imani had spent the first minutes noticing her gown. Her voice. Her hair. The strange little displacement every time she laughed and heard Anna instead of herself. Then a woman named Leona asked her whether she had ever been to a particular orbital gallery. Anna had. Imani had. The distinction ceased to matter. They talked. A second guest joined them. Then Sera's physicist briefly escaped his pigment education, heard the word orbital and contributed something. Sera came to retrieve him. That became four people. Then Bea arrived carrying two drinks and handed one to Anna without asking. “Water.” Anna accepted it. “Thank you.” Leona looked between them. “You know each other?” Bea smiled. “Yes.” Anna drank. “Unfortunately.” Bea looked wounded. Leona laughed. “You don't sound unfortunate.” Anna looked at Bea. “No.” The answer was softer. Simple. Bea touched her arm once. Then someone asked Bea about the back of her dress. Anna's eyes closed. “Oh no.” Bea sighed. “What?” “They've discovered it.” “Discovered what?” Leona asked. Anna pointed. “Turn around.” Bea stared at her. “You too?” “Turn.” Bea turned. Leona's eyebrows went up. “Oh.” Anna nodded. “Exactly.” The second guest leaned sideways for a better view. “That's unfair.” Bea looked over her shoulder. “What is wrong with all of you?” Anna laughed. Sera appeared beside her. “It's a weapon.” Bea stared. “Mandi said that.” “Mandi was right.” From somewhere across the room came Mandi's voice: “I HEARD THAT.” Reyes closed her eyes. Several guests laughed. The physicist looked delighted. “This is much better than a networking event.” Anna looked at him. “It is a networking event.” He looked around. “No.” Anna followed his gaze. Mandi was arguing with Dalia. Nova and Vega were on opposite sides of the lounge. Sera was barefoot for reasons nobody had yet investigated. Bea was trying unsuccessfully to prevent strangers from admiring the back of her dress. Deja was at the bar laughing with two people. Reyes stood near the edge of the room pretending she had not heard any of it. Anna smiled. “Fair.” --- Nova had discovered something interesting. People told Iris things because they expected Iris to know what to do with them. People told Nova things because they liked talking to her. The distinction was subtle. And dangerous. Not because Nova intended to exploit it. She didn't. But conversation moved differently when nobody expected a business answer. A woman from one of the new prospect companies was telling her about an expansion problem. Not confidential details. Not numbers. Not strategy. Just frustration. “We have three different people responsible for physical security,” the woman said, “which means nobody is responsible for physical security.” Nova smiled. “I've seen that structure.” “Does it ever work?” “No.” The woman laughed. “Thank you.” “You wanted reassurance?” “I wanted someone to tell me we're not uniquely stupid.” “Oh. You're not.” “Much better.” Nova took a drink. The woman looked at her. “You work with O'Sullivan?” “Tonight.” “That sounded carefully phrased.” “It was.” “Are you security?” “No.” “Consulting?” Nova smiled. “Not tonight.” The woman caught the boundary immediately. “Right. No business.” “No business.” “Good.” She leaned back. “Tomorrow, though?” Nova did not answer immediately. Then: “Tomorrow has phones.” The woman smiled. “I like you.” “That's convenient.” “Why?” “Because I'm staying right here until my working partner brings me food.” The woman laughed. “Which one is your working partner?” Nova pointed across the room. Vega was standing beside a man near the dance floor. At exactly that moment she looked toward Nova. Saw her pointing. Raised both eyebrows. Nova made an eating gesture. Vega looked at the nearby food. Then at Nova. Then held up one finger. Wait. Nova smiled. The woman beside her watched the entire exchange. “You two really are working partners.” Nova turned back. “Unfortunately.” From across the room, Vega shouted: “I HEARD THAT.” Mandi immediately shouted: “WELCOME TO MY LIFE.” Reyes looked toward the ceiling. --- Vega did bring food. Eventually. She arrived with a small plate. Nova took it. “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” Nova kissed her cheek. Vega looked at the woman beside her. “Has she been behaving?” “No.” “Good.” Nova looked offended. The woman laughed. Vega started to leave. Nova caught her wrist. “Eat something.” “I did.” “What?” Vega thought. Nova stared. Vega surrendered. “I will.” “Now.” “Bossy.” “Partner.” Vega smiled. “Fine.” She stole something from Nova's plate. Nova stared at her. “That was mine.” “You told me to eat.” “Not my food.” “You should be more specific.” Vega kissed her forehead and escaped. The woman watched her go. Then looked at Nova. “You really love her.” Nova's expression changed. Only slightly. “Yes.” Nothing else. No explanation. No cover mistake. No lie, either. “Yes.” The woman smiled. And let it rest. --- Bea found Reyes near the private-wing access point. “Water?” Reyes looked at the glass being offered. “For me?” “Yes.” “Why?” Bea stared. “Because humans require it.” “I have coffee.” “That sentence is why I brought water.” Reyes accepted the glass. “Thank you.” Bea leaned beside her for a moment. Not blocking the corridor. Not distracting her from it. “How's it going?” “No problems.” “That wasn't what I asked.” Reyes looked at her. Bea smiled. Wrong voice. Elisa's eyes. The combination was still disorienting. “It's going well.” “Good.” Reyes looked toward the lounge. “You?” “I'm having fun.” “Good.” Bea followed her gaze. Mandi had somehow ended up standing on the lower edge of the dance floor demonstrating something with her hands to three guests. Dalia was watching. Deja was laughing. Anna and Sera were near the terrace. Nova was eating. Vega was not. Bea smiled. “They're good at this.” “Yes.” “You sound surprised.” “I'm not.” “You do.” Reyes took a drink of water. “I expected them to be good individually.” Bea waited. Reyes looked at the room. “This is different.” Bea nodded. Yes. That was it. Nobody was performing alone. The room had become a network. Mandi's joke became someone else's conversation. Sera's art discussion acquired Anna. Nova sent Vega for food. Dalia's presence changed how Deja moved without dictating where she went. Bea carried water to people. Guests introduced hostesses to other guests. Hostesses introduced guests to each other. Nobody stayed where anyone had put them. Good. Bea pushed away from the wall. “I should go be interesting.” Reyes looked at her. “You weren't?” Bea smiled. “That was almost sweet.” “Go.” Bea laughed and left. --- Mandi had not been demonstrating anything. She had been losing an argument. “This is a dance floor,” Celia said. “I know.” “You're standing on it.” “I know.” “Music is playing.” “I have noticed.” Celia held out her hand. Mandi looked at it. “No.” “Why?” “I don't know you well enough.” Celia immediately lowered her hand. “Fair.” No disappointment weaponized into pressure. No second attempt. Just fair. Mandi noticed. Her expression softened. Then Adrian, still nearby, said: “She'll dance with Dalia.” Mandi looked at him. “Traitor.” “I've known you twenty minutes.” “Long enough.” Celia smiled. “Dalia is the pink-haired one?” Mandi looked across the room. Dalia was speaking with Deja and another guest. “Yes.” “Girlfriend?” Mandi's smile appeared. “Complicated.” “Everyone here says that.” “Night City.” Celia laughed. Then: “You don't have to dance with me.” “I know.” “I wasn't testing you.” “I know.” “Good.” Mandi looked at the hand Celia had already withdrawn. Then at her face. Then: “Ask me again later.” Celia smiled. “Okay.” Mandi stepped off the dance floor. Adrian watched her. “That was interesting.” Mandi looked up. “What?” “You said no.” “Yes.” “She accepted it.” “Yes.” “And now you're considering yes.” Mandi stared at him. “Are you writing a thesis?” “Possibly.” “Don't.” He laughed. Mandi walked away. --- Dalia saw her coming. Deja did too. Mandi stopped beside them. Dalia looked down. “What happened?” “Nothing.” “Mm.” “I said no to dancing.” Dalia nodded. “And?” “She was nice about it.” Deja smiled. “Oh no.” Mandi looked at her. “What?” “You like her now.” “I didn't say that.” “You didn't need to.” Mandi glared. Dalia's lollipop shifted to one side of her mouth. “Do you?” Mandi thought. “Maybe.” “Then dance later if you want.” Mandi looked up at her. “You don't care?” Dalia's eyebrows rose. Mandi immediately realized how stupid the question was. “Right.” Deja laughed. Mandi pointed at her. “Nothing from you.” Deja smiled. “Yes, ma'am.” Dalia looked at Deja. Deja's smile became wicked. “Sorry, Master.” Mandi's eyes widened. “Oh, now—” Dalia put one finger against Mandi's lips. “No.” Mandi became silent. Deja laughed. The guest standing with them looked between all three women. “I have absolutely no idea what's happening.” Dalia removed her finger. Mandi answered immediately. “Neither do we.” The guest laughed. --- The first person to ask about the private rooms did not ask a hostess. He asked Reyes. That pleased her. “Those rooms down there?” “Yes.” “Private?” “Yes.” “How does that work?” Reyes gave him the short version. Optional. Mutual. No cameras. No audio. Call system. Panic system. Either person could leave at any time. The man nodded. “And do I book someone through you?” “No.” “Through the venue?” “No.” He waited. Reyes waited back. Eventually: “I ask her.” “Yes.” “And she can say no.” “Yes.” “And if she says yes?” “Then the two of you decide what yes means.” The man smiled. “That's refreshingly uncomplicated.” “It should be.” He looked toward the lounge. Then back. “Thanks.” He walked away. Reyes watched him go. He did not approach anyone immediately. Good. --- The second question came from a woman. To Vega. “Can I ask something rude?” Vega smiled. “You can ask. I haven't promised to answer.” The woman laughed. “Fair.” She lowered her voice. “Are you all actually available?” Vega considered. “For conversation?” “Yes.” “For dancing?” “If we want.” “For the rooms?” “If we want.” The woman looked toward Nova. “And your working partner?” Vega's smile changed. “Same answer.” “Together?” “Different question.” The woman nodded. “Okay.” Vega appreciated that. “If you're asking whether we're automatically a package, no.” “And if one of you is in the room with the other?” “Watching doesn't make the watcher available.” The woman nodded again. “And if everyone wanted more?” “Then everyone talks again.” Simple. No embarrassment. The woman smiled. “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” Then she looked past Vega. “Your working partner is staring at you.” Vega turned. Nova was indeed staring. Vega frowned. Nova pointed at the plate in Vega's hand. Vega looked down. Still untouched. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” The woman laughed. Vega ate something. Nova smiled from across the room. “Bossy,” Vega muttered. But she was smiling too. --- Nearly forty minutes after the reveal, every private-room indicator remained dark. Reyes checked. Then stopped herself from checking again. It did not matter. That was the entire point. The evening was already working. Existing clients were talking with new prospects. Prospects were talking with each other. Hostesses moved between them. Nobody had mentioned a contract. Nobody had produced a presentation. Nobody had tried to turn dinner into a negotiation. And people were staying. Not politely. Not because leaving early would look bad. They were staying because they were having fun. Iris would have called that measurable. Nova, currently laughing with two guests over something completely unrelated to O'Sullivan SAS, probably would not. Reyes looked toward the bar. A man was speaking with Bea. He said something. Bea listened. Asked a question. He answered. Bea smiled. Nothing happened. Then he asked something else. Bea's expression changed. Not badly. Just attention sharpening. She answered. He nodded. They kept talking. At the dance floor, Celia had found someone else to dance with. Mandi saw her. Watched for a few seconds. Then smiled and turned back to Dalia. No drama. No ownership. No missed opportunity. Just another possibility moving through the room. Sera's physicist was now talking to Deja. Sera had acquired an art collector instead. Anna was sitting on the arm of a chair talking with Leona. Vega finally finished her food. Nova looked satisfied. Reyes took another drink of water. Then a quiet tone sounded in her earpiece. Not panic. Not assistance. Private-wing access. Reyes looked toward the corridor. One of the venue's controlled doors had just authenticated a hostess credential. She checked the identifier. **BEA.** Reyes looked across the lounge. Bea was walking toward the private wing. The man she had been speaking with walked beside her. Not behind. Not pulling. Not being led by the hand. Just beside her. They were still talking. At the corridor entrance, Bea stopped. Said something. The man answered. Bea looked at him for a moment. Then smiled. They went through. The access door closed behind them. Reyes looked at the room indicators. A few seconds later: **ROOM 3 — OCCUPIED** No alarm. No call. No problem. Reyes lowered the tablet. Across the lounge, nobody applauded. Nobody announced anything. Nobody kept score. Most people had not even noticed. Exactly right. The first door had closed. And the evening barely changed at all. --- ## Chapter 12: Behind One Door Bea noticed the silence first. Not silence in the room. Room Three had music. Low enough to talk over. Soft enough that it did not feel like the lounge had followed them inside. The silence was everything missing. No bar. No overlapping conversations. No laughter erupting unexpectedly from somewhere behind her. No Mandi shouting across half the venue. No Reyes pretending not to listen to Mandi shouting across half the venue. The door had closed. The evening remained outside. Bea looked at the man beside her. His name was Daniel. He looked at the room. Then at her. “Well.” Bea smiled. “Well.” He laughed. “That suddenly feels more serious.” “It doesn't have to.” “I know.” That helped. He walked farther into the room, but not toward her. Bea liked that too. There was seating. A low table. Water. A private washroom. Enough space that two people did not automatically become physically close simply because they had entered together. Daniel looked at the door. “No cameras?” “No.” “Audio?” “No.” “And you have the call thing?” Bea indicated the discreet control. “Yes.” He nodded. Then: “Do you mind that I'm asking again?” “No.” “I know Reyes explained it.” “Ask anyway.” Daniel looked at her. “You can leave whenever you want.” “Yes.” “So can I.” “Yes.” “And coming in here doesn't mean—” “Anything we haven't agreed to.” He smiled. “Good.” Bea leaned lightly against the edge of the table. “What did you think it meant?” He laughed. “I was hoping you'd tell me.” “No.” “Worth trying.” “It really wasn't.” That made him laugh again. The tension dropped. Good. Bea had liked him in the lounge because he listened. Not perfectly. Nobody did. But when she answered a question, he did not spend her answer preparing his next one. That was rarer than it should have been. He looked at her gown. “I still think the back is unfair.” Bea sighed. “Not you too.” “I didn't say it before.” “Everyone else did.” “I was being polite.” “You've stopped?” “Apparently.” Bea smiled. Daniel moved closer. Stopped with space still between them. “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” No ceremony. No negotiation disguised as seduction. He asked. She wanted to. Yes. He kissed her. Carefully at first. Bea let him. Then she put one hand behind his neck and kissed him back with enough certainty to answer the question he had not asked. His hand found her waist. Stopped there. Bea stayed close. The kiss deepened. Then they separated. Daniel looked at her. “That was better than the networking.” Bea laughed. “Don't tell the accountant.” “Which one?” Bea smiled. “Exactly.” He stared at her. Then laughed. “Okay. Fair.” Bea kissed him again. --- Outside Room Three, almost nothing changed. Mandi noticed. Of course she noticed. She was sitting beside Dalia now, one leg folded beneath her on a sofa that had absolutely not been designed for the position. Her gown had survived. Her shoes had survived. Her dignity was debatable. She looked toward the private-wing access point. Then at Reyes. Reyes was standing near it. Mandi raised her eyebrows. Reyes stared back. Mandi pointed subtly toward the corridor. Reyes nodded once. Mandi smiled. Then returned to the conversation. The woman sitting opposite them had introduced herself as Marianne. She was one of the new prospects. Or rather, Mandi knew she was one of the new prospects because Iris had explained the guest composition before the event. Tonight Marianne was simply a woman with an expensive drink and an increasingly entertained expression. “So,” Marianne said, looking at Dalia, “do you always let her sit like that?” Dalia looked down at Mandi. Mandi looked up. Dalia's hand rested lightly against Mandi's thigh. “She doesn't require permission to sit.” Marianne smiled. “That isn't what I meant.” “I know.” Mandi looked between them. “Am I being discussed?” “Yes,” Dalia said. “Rude.” Marianne laughed. Mandi looked at her. “What?” “You two.” “What about us?” “You're not what I expected.” Mandi tilted her head. “What did you expect?” Marianne considered. “Hostesses.” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked at Mandi. Mandi turned back. “We are.” “No, I know. I mean—” Marianne searched for the sentence. Dalia waited. Finally: “I expected it to feel more transactional.” Mandi's expression softened. “Do you want it to?” “No.” “Good.” Marianne looked around the room. “I haven't seen anyone selling anything all night.” “Also good.” “Which is strange because this is a corporate event.” Mandi nodded. “Very suspicious.” Dalia's fingers moved once against her thigh. Mandi smiled. Marianne noticed. She did not comment. Instead: “Amber and Maeve really aren't here?” Mandi almost choked. Dalia's face remained flawless. “No,” Mandi said. Marianne looked at her. “You sound disappointed.” “Devastated.” Dalia bit down on her lollipop. Marianne laughed. --- Nova found Vega dancing. Not sexually. Not even particularly well. Vega was dancing with the woman who had earlier asked her about the private rooms. They were both laughing too much to accomplish anything technically impressive. Nova stopped near the edge of the floor. Vega saw her. Held out one hand. Nova shook her head. Vega exaggerated a wounded expression. Nova smiled. Then the woman dancing with Vega looked at Nova. “Want her back?” Nova blinked. Vega stopped laughing. Not because the question was offensive. Because it could have become awkward. Nova smiled. “No.” The woman relaxed. Nova continued. “She can decide where she wants to be.” Vega's expression softened. The woman looked at her. Vega nodded. “I'm good.” Nova lifted her glass slightly. “Have fun.” She turned away. “Nova.” She looked back. Vega walked over. Kissed her cheek. “Love you, sis.” Nova touched her arm. “Love you too.” Vega returned to the dance floor. The woman looked at her. “Working partners?” Vega smiled. “Working partners.” And they resumed dancing. Nova walked away. Nobody watching had seen anything except affection between working partners. That was exactly what they were supposed to see. The private truth underneath it remained theirs. --- Deja had acquired the physicist. Sera wanted him back. “You stole him.” Deja looked at her. “He walked here.” The physicist raised one finger. “I did.” Sera looked at him. “Traitor.” “You abandoned me for an art collector.” “I was working.” “So was I.” Sera's eyes narrowed. The physicist smiled. Deja looked between them. “This is weirdly adorable.” Sera looked at her. “I want him back.” Deja leaned against the bar. “What are you offering?” The physicist looked delighted. Sera considered. “One art answer.” “Honest?” “Yes.” “Useful?” “No.” Deja laughed. “Two.” “One and a half.” “How do you give half an answer?” Sera smiled. “Artist.” Deja looked at the physicist. “You're right. She's impossible.” “I've known her forty minutes and yes.” Sera's silver-white hair lifted faintly. “You're both mean.” Deja smiled. “You love it.” Sera thought. “Yes.” The physicist looked between them. Then asked: “Is everyone in your group like this?” Deja and Sera answered together. “No.” A beat. Then: “Worse.” They looked at each other. The physicist laughed. --- Anna was asked to dance. She said yes. That surprised Imani. Not enough to stop her. Just enough that she noticed. Leona held out her hand. Anna looked at it. Then took it. The music was slow enough that nobody needed skill. Good. Anna had enough new things to think about. Her gown. Her hair. Her voice. The fact that she was dancing with a woman she had met less than an hour ago at a private corpo event in Night City while dressed as someone who had not existed a week earlier. Leona touched her waist. Not pulling. Waiting. Anna stepped closer. Permission answered through movement. They danced. “You're thinking,” Leona said. “Am I that obvious?” “Yes.” Anna smiled. “Damn.” “Regretting the dance?” “No.” “Good.” Anna looked at her. “You ask that very casually.” “What?” “Whether I'm still here.” Leona shrugged. “I prefer dancing with people who want to dance with me.” Anna laughed. “That seems sensible.” “Radical philosophy.” “Night City may not be ready.” Leona smiled. Anna stopped thinking about Anna again. Her body found the rhythm. Her shoulders loosened. Leona said something about the music. Anna answered. They turned. Across the room, Sera saw them. Anna caught her eye. Sera smiled. Not possessive. Not questioning. Just happy. Anna smiled back. Then returned her attention to Leona. --- Room Three's gown release was not dramatic. Bea appreciated that. The entire point of Lena's design was that the dress could be magnificent in the lounge without becoming an engineering problem in private. Daniel watched her fingers find the hidden release. “That's clever.” “You haven't seen anything.” The outer structure loosened cleanly. Fabric shifted. Dropped away from where it no longer needed to be. The gown transformed without becoming a pile of expensive cloth on the floor. Daniel stared. Bea smiled. “Lena.” “Who?” “The woman responsible for half the reason everyone keeps asking me to turn around.” “I owe her a drink.” “She'll invoice you.” He laughed. Bea stepped closer. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” “Yes.” He kissed her again. This time neither of them treated the kiss as an experiment. His hands moved over the transformed lines of the dress and found bare skin where the evening gown had hidden it before. Bea's breath changed. She drew him closer. There was no hurry in the way they undressed each other. No sense that entering the room had started a timer. Daniel paused when Bea's hands reached his shirt. She looked at him. “Still yes?” “Yes.” “Good.” She pushed the shirt from his shoulders. His answering smile made her laugh. The laughter disappeared into another kiss. They moved toward the bed together. Bea sat first and pulled him with her. For a moment they simply kissed there, bodies close, hands exploring, each small change answered by the other before either moved farther. Daniel broke the kiss. “What do you want?” Bea looked at him. Not because she needed time to invent an answer. Because she liked being asked. “You.” His expression warmed. “That part I understood.” She smiled. “Then come here.” He did. Bea drew him down with her. The last distance between them disappeared slowly. Nothing assumed. Nothing rushed. When they were both ready, Bea guided him closer and he entered her. Her breath caught. Daniel stopped immediately. Bea's hand tightened behind his neck. For a few seconds neither moved. The first sensation settled through her. She opened her eyes. Daniel was watching her. “You good?” Bea smiled. “Yes.” She kissed him. “Move.” He did. Slowly at first. Bea met him. The rhythm found them rather than arriving fully formed. A movement. A pause. Another. Daniel's forehead touched hers. Bea laughed softly when they briefly lost the rhythm. “So graceful.” “I was doing fine until you laughed.” “Blaming me?” “Absolutely.” She kissed him. “Dangerous.” They tried again. Better. The humor remained, but the laughter grew quieter as pleasure took more of Bea's attention. Her hands moved over his shoulders and back. His found her waist, then held her closer when she moved against him. Bea let her head fall back for a moment. A sound escaped her in Anna's borrowed-world voice— No. Bea's voice. The one Victor had built for her. Even here. Especially here. Daniel slowed. Bea opened her eyes. “Don't.” “Don't stop?” “Exactly.” He smiled. “Useful clarification.” Bea pulled him into another kiss. The pace built again. Not frantic. Enough. Enough that conversation became fragments. Enough that Bea stopped noticing the music. Enough that the private room became exactly what it had promised to be: private. Daniel said her name. Bea answered with his. Her pleasure climbed gradually, then faster. She tightened her arms around him. “Daniel—” He understood the change without needing instructions. Stayed with her. Bea's body tightened. Then release moved through her hard enough to steal the rest of the sentence. She held him close through it. Daniel followed moments later, his movement breaking into stillness as he buried his face against her shoulder. Then neither of them moved. For several breaths there was only warmth. Weight. The fading rhythm of two bodies remembering movement after it had stopped. Bea's hand moved slowly over Daniel's back. He kissed her shoulder. “That,” he murmured, “was definitely better than networking.” Bea laughed against his hair. “Still don't tell Iris.” He lifted his head. “Still don't know which one she is.” “Perfect.” They kissed again. Slower. Nothing left to prove. Afterward they remained together longer than either strictly needed to. Daniel eventually rolled beside her. Bea stayed close. His fingers found hers. They lay there holding hands while the music continued quietly from somewhere that felt very far away. Eventually Bea looked toward the transformed gown. “We should probably return before someone assumes we've escaped through the ventilation.” Daniel smiled. “Would they?” “Mandi might.” “Orange hair?” “Yes.” “She seems dangerous.” “You have no idea.” They dressed without hurry. Bea restored the gown. The expensive fabric settled. Smoothed. Reassembled itself into elegant lies. Daniel watched. “I really do owe Lena a drink.” “She'll still invoice you.” “I'm beginning to believe you.” Bea checked herself in the mirror. Hair. Makeup. Dress. No-transfer meant no-transfer. She smiled. Then looked at Daniel. “Ready?” “Yes.” They left together. --- Mandi eventually danced with Celia. Later turned out to be thirty-one minutes. Celia did not ask twice before then. That mattered. Mandi found her near the dance floor. Celia was talking with Adrian again. Mandi stopped beside them. “Hi.” Celia smiled. “Hi.” Mandi looked at the dance floor. Then at her. “You can ask again now.” Celia's smile grew. “Would you like to dance?” “Yes.” Adrian raised his glass. “I feel like I've witnessed character development.” Mandi pointed at him. “You haven't.” “Looked like it.” “Drink your drink.” “Yes, ma'am.” Mandi took Celia's hand. Celia followed her onto the floor. Dalia noticed. Mandi noticed Dalia noticing. Dalia smiled. That was all. Mandi turned back to Celia. “You're taller than me.” Celia stared. “Most people are.” “Rude.” “You brought it up.” “Still rude.” Celia laughed. Then they danced. Mandi was better than she had implied. Celia noticed. “You lied.” “About what?” “You can dance.” “I said I didn't want to dance.” “Ah.” “Different sentence.” “Very.” Celia's hand settled at Mandi's waist. Mandi let it. They moved. Not close enough to promise anything. Close enough to enjoy it. Celia smiled. Mandi smiled back. Then: “You're staring.” “At what?” “My eyes.” “They're black.” “Yes.” “All of them.” “Yes.” “That's deeply unfair.” Mandi laughed. “Why?” “Because now I can't tell exactly where you're looking.” Mandi leaned slightly closer. “I can.” Celia missed a step. Mandi grinned. Across the room, Dalia saw it. Deja stood beside her. “She likes her.” “Yes.” “Are you going to tell her?” “No.” “Good.” Dalia looked at Deja. Deja smiled. “She'll deny it.” “Yes.” “Then admit it.” “Yes.” “Then say it doesn't mean anything.” “Yes.” “Then disappear with her.” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. “You sound very confident.” Deja looked toward Mandi. “I've met her.” Dalia's smile appeared. “Mandi.” “Right.” --- The private-wing indicator changed. Room Three. Available. Reyes saw it. She looked toward the corridor. Nothing. Several seconds later, the access door opened. Daniel came out first. Bea followed. Not immediately behind him. Beside him. The same way they had entered. Daniel looked relaxed. Bea looked— Reyes considered. Happy. Yes. That was enough. No visible distress. No security concern. Daniel said something to Bea. Bea laughed. Then he leaned closer. Asked something. Bea answered. He kissed her cheek. Not her mouth. Interesting. Then he returned toward the lounge. Bea stayed near the corridor for a moment. Resetting. Not emotionally damaged. Not recovering from anything. Just changing environments. Private room back to social room. Reyes did not approach. She waited. Bea looked up. Saw her. Walked over. “All good?” Reyes asked. “Yes.” “Need anything?” “Water.” Reyes handed her the glass she had already prepared. Bea looked at it. Then at Reyes. “You're learning.” “I always learn.” Bea drank. Reyes glanced toward Daniel. “He okay?” “Yes.” “Anything I need to know?” “No.” That ended the security questions. Bea drank again. Then smiled. “He was sweet.” Reyes looked at her. “That isn't security information.” “I know.” A beat. Then Reyes smiled faintly. “Good.” Bea leaned against the wall. “He asked if he could see me again.” “And?” “I told him tonight wasn't a booking agency.” Reyes nodded. “Then?” Bea smiled. “I said he could ask me later.” Reyes looked toward the lounge. “Seems to be going around.” “What?” “Later.” Bea followed her gaze. Mandi was dancing with Celia. “Oh.” “Yes.” Bea smiled. “Good for her.” Reyes looked back. “You going in?” “In a minute.” “No rush.” Bea nodded. They stood together for several seconds. Then Bea pushed away from the wall. “Okay.” “Okay.” She returned to the evening. No announcement. No applause. No score. She joined Anna and Leona near the dance floor. Anna immediately looked at her. Bea looked back. Something passed between them. Anna smiled. Bea smiled too. Then Leona said something and the moment dissolved into conversation. --- Sera's art collector finally asked the question. Not the physicist. He had apparently learned enough already. The collector was a woman with silver at her temples, immaculate posture and the calm confidence of someone accustomed to prices having meanings. She and Sera had been talking for nearly twenty minutes. Installations. Materials. A possible exhibition. A gallery Sera knew. Another she disliked. Then the woman looked at her. “I've heard something else about you.” Sera smiled. “Probably.” “You work Jig-Jig sometimes.” “Yes.” No embarrassment. No dramatic reveal. Just yes. The woman looked mildly surprised by how little ceremony the answer received. “And tonight?” Sera tilted her head. “Tonight I'm here.” “I can see that.” Sera waited. The woman smiled. “Do you have a rate?” Sera looked at her. Not her clothes. Not the jewelry. Her. “Seven figures.” The woman laughed softly. “Yes, I heard that part.” Sera smiled. “Good.” “Which seven figures?” Sera said nothing. The woman waited. Sera continued smiling. Finally: “So I make an offer.” “If you want.” “And if it's enough?” Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened faintly. “I decide whether I'm interested.” The woman studied her. “Even if the number is very good.” “Yes.” “Good.” Sera's smile changed. The collector looked at her for another moment. Then named a number. Quietly. Nobody else heard it. Sera did not react to the number. She looked at the woman. Really looked. The woman waited. No pressure. No assumption that money had already answered the question. Sera's silver-white hair shifted faintly around her shoulders. Then she smiled. “Yes.” The collector's expression warmed. “Now?” Sera considered. Looked toward the physicist, currently arguing with Deja. Toward Anna. Toward the room. Then back. “Not yet.” The woman nodded. “When?” Sera smiled. “I'll find you.” And walked away. The collector watched her go. Not annoyed. If anything, more interested. Reyes had seen enough of the exchange to understand what had happened. Not the number. That was irrelevant. Sera passed her. Reyes looked at her. Sera looked back. “Everything okay?” “Yes.” Reyes nodded. Sera continued. Her hair lifted slightly as she walked. Reyes watched her disappear into the crowd. One room had already opened again. Another agreement now existed somewhere in the room. Nothing hurried. Nothing queued. Nothing became a scoreboard. Exactly right. Then Vega appeared beside Reyes. “Question.” Reyes looked at her. “Security?” “No.” Reyes waited. Vega smiled. “Do you ever stop working?” “Yes.” “When?” “When I'm not working.” Vega stared. “That was the most Reyes answer imaginable.” “Did you have an actual question?” “I forgot it.” “Good.” Vega started away. Then stopped. “Oh. Remembered.” Reyes sighed. Vega pointed toward the private corridor. “If Nova goes in with someone and I go with her to watch, both our credentials work?” “Yes.” “Mine doesn't mark me as participating?” “No.” “And if I decide I want to participate?” “Then you all talk first. Security doesn't define your consent for you.” Vega nodded. “Good.” She turned away. Reyes watched her go. Then: “Vega.” She looked back. “Yes?” “Have fun.” Vega smiled. “That's almost sweet.” “Go.” Vega laughed and disappeared back into the room. Reyes looked at her tablet. One room had been used. Eleven had not. She locked the screen. For the first time that evening, she stopped checking. The room would tell her if it needed her. Until then— the evening belonged to everyone else. --- ## Chapter 13: The Observer Rule Vega remembered why she had asked Reyes. It happened twelve minutes later. The woman from the dance floor was named Helena. Vega learned this approximately forty minutes after meeting her, which probably said something unfortunate about Vega's priorities. “You never asked my name,” Helena said. They were sitting near the edge of the terrace now. Vega stared at her. “I did.” “No.” “I absolutely did.” “You called me trouble.” “That could be a name.” “It isn't mine.” Vega narrowed her black-void eyes. “Prove it.” Helena laughed. “Helena.” Vega held out her hand. “Vega.” “I know.” “Oh.” “I asked.” “Who?” Helena pointed through the glass toward the lounge. Nova was standing inside with Marianne and another guest. Vega looked back. “You asked my working partner?” “Yes.” “Traitor.” “She likes me.” Vega looked through the glass again. Nova noticed. Raised her eyebrows. Vega pointed accusingly at Helena. Nova looked at Helena. Then Vega. Then smiled. Vega gasped. “She does like you.” Helena laughed. “This is devastating for you.” “Deeply.” Helena's expression softened. Then her eyes moved over Vega's face. The impossible black contacts. The split ChromeLock. The dress. Back to her eyes. “I was going to ask you something else.” Vega smiled. “Another rude question?” “Maybe.” “Those are usually better.” Helena leaned slightly closer. “I'd like to kiss you.” Vega's smile changed. “That's not a question.” “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” Helena did. Vega had been expecting careful. She got confident instead. Not presumptuous. Not forceful. Just a woman who had already spent most of an hour learning that Vega liked confidence. Vega kissed her back. Helena's hand settled against her waist. Vega let it remain there. Then Helena drew away. Vega followed for half an inch before catching herself. Helena noticed. “Interesting.” “Don't.” “Didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “Maybe.” Vega smiled. “You're learning.” “I have an excellent teacher.” Vega kissed her again. This one lasted longer. When they separated, Helena glanced toward the private wing. Not subtly enough to be mistaken for anything else. Vega followed her gaze. Then looked back. “You want to?” “Yes.” Vega considered. Not whether she wanted Helena. That answer was already becoming obvious. Something else. Helena saw the thought. “What?” Vega smiled. “I need to ask my working partner something.” Helena blinked. Then remembered. “Oh.” “Yeah.” “You weren't joking about that.” “No.” “Does she have to come?” “No.” “Do you want her to?” Vega looked through the glass. Nova had moved. Now she was near the bar. “Yes.” Helena thought about that. Not recoiling. Not instantly agreeing either. Good. “To watch?” “If she wants.” “And that's all?” “Unless all three of us decide otherwise later.” Helena nodded slowly. “And if I don't want her there?” “Then she isn't there.” “And you?” Vega looked at her. “Then I decide whether I still want to go with you.” Helena smiled. “That's fair.” “Yes.” “Ask her.” Vega stood. Then stopped. “Wait here.” “I was planning to.” “No wandering off.” “Bossy.” Vega pointed at her. “That is my working partner's job.” --- Nova saw Vega coming. That alone told her something. Vega did not normally approach with that particular expression unless she wanted something and had already decided the answer should be yes. Nova waited. Vega stopped directly in front of her. “Hi, sis.” “No.” Vega stared. “I haven't asked anything.” “I know your face.” “You cannot see most of my eyes.” “I don't need to.” Marianne laughed into her drink. Vega looked at her. “This is a private discussion between working partners.” Marianne immediately took one step sideways. “I'm not here.” The other guest followed. “Neither am I.” They remained completely within hearing distance. Nova sighed. “What?” Vega glanced toward the terrace. Nova followed. Helena lifted her glass. Nova looked back at Vega. “Oh.” “Would you—” “Yes.” Vega stopped. “You didn't let me finish.” “I know what you're asking.” “What am I asking?” “You want me to come with you and Helena.” Vega's grin appeared. “To watch.” “Yes.” “Only watch.” “If that's what everyone agrees.” Vega's grin widened. Nova stared. “What?” “You remembered the rule.” “I wrote half the rule.” “Very professional.” Nova's expression became suspicious. “From my working partner.” Vega immediately raised both hands. “Entirely professional.” Marianne failed catastrophically at not laughing. Nova looked at her. Marianne stared into her drink. Vega leaned closer. “Helena knows you're my working partner. She knows watching doesn't make you available. She knows anything changing means everybody talks again.” Nova nodded. “And she wants me there?” “She said yes.” “You want me there?” “Yes.” Nova looked toward Helena. Then back. “Then yes.” Vega hugged her. A normal hug. Close. Warm. Affection between close friends to anyone watching. Nova kissed her forehead. “Give me five minutes.” “Why?” Nova looked down at her drink. “Oh.” “Yes.” “Right.” Vega stole the glass. Finished it. Nova stared. “That was not the solution.” “Worked.” “You are impossible.” “Love you.” Vega walked away carrying the empty glass. Nova watched her. Then looked at Marianne. Marianne was smiling. “Not a word.” “I wasn't going to say anything.” “You absolutely were.” “Yes.” --- Mandi had reached the dangerous stage of dancing where she had stopped pretending she wasn't enjoying herself. Celia noticed. Naturally. “You're smiling.” “I smile.” “Not like that.” Mandi's black eyes narrowed. “You've known me less than two hours.” “Long enough.” “You people keep saying that.” “What people?” “People.” Celia laughed. Mandi was closer now. Not by accident. Celia's hand rested against her lower back. Mandi had one hand on Celia's shoulder. The music changed. Neither stopped. Celia looked down at her. “Can I ask another question?” “Depends.” “On?” “The question.” “That isn't useful.” “It isn't supposed to be.” Celia smiled. Then: “Are you with Dalia?” Mandi glanced across the room. Dalia was sitting with Deja and a man Mandi did not recognize. She had one arm along the back of the sofa. Deja sat near enough that their shoulders occasionally touched. The menthol lollipop had disappeared. Probably temporary. Dalia caught Mandi looking. Their eyes met. Dalia smiled. Mandi looked back at Celia. “Yes.” Celia waited. Mandi added: “Not in a way that makes this a problem.” Celia's expression relaxed. “Okay.” “You were worried?” “I don't enjoy stepping into other people's relationship disasters.” “Smart.” “Experience.” “Less smart.” Celia laughed. Mandi smiled. Then Celia asked: “Does she mind me touching you?” Mandi looked at the hand on her back. Then at Celia. “I mind or don't mind you touching me.” A pause. Celia nodded. “Right.” Mandi's expression softened. “Dalia trusts me.” “And you trust her.” “Yes.” Celia looked toward Dalia again. Dalia was no longer looking at them. That somehow made the answer more convincing. Celia looked back. “I like that.” “So do I.” They danced. --- Deja had noticed the entire exchange. Dalia had too. Neither said anything for several seconds. Then Deja murmured: “You're very good at not watching.” Dalia looked at her. “I wasn't watching.” “Exactly.” The man sitting opposite them smiled. “I feel like there's context I'm missing.” Deja looked at him. “There is always context you're missing.” “That sounded philosophical.” “It wasn't.” Dalia smiled. The man looked toward Mandi and Celia. Then back. “Your partner?” Dalia considered the word. “Yes.” “And you're okay with that?” Dalia's expression barely changed. “With Mandi dancing?” “With whatever that is.” Deja leaned back. Now interested. Dalia looked at the man. “What do you think it is?” He hesitated. “Flirting.” “Yes.” “And you're okay with it.” “Yes.” “Why?” Dalia tilted her head. “Why wouldn't I be?” He opened his mouth. Stopped. Deja smiled. The man tried again. “Because you're together.” “Yes.” “And she wants someone else.” “Right now she wants to dance with someone else.” “That doesn't bother you?” “No.” He looked genuinely puzzled. Not judgmental. Just operating from a different map. Dalia leaned forward slightly. “She comes back because she wants to. Not because I prevent her from leaving.” The man went quiet. Deja looked at Dalia. Something warm passed across her face. The man nodded slowly. “That sounds obvious when you say it.” “Most useful things do.” Deja smiled. “Don't encourage her.” Dalia looked at her. “You disagree?” “No.” “Then?” “You already have enough authority.” The man laughed. Dalia's eyes settled on Deja. “Do I?” Deja knew that tone. Her smile changed. “Yes, Master.” The man blinked. Dalia remained completely composed. Deja took a drink. “What?” He looked between them. “I have several questions.” Deja smiled. “Seven figures.” Across the room, Sera's head snapped around. “What?” Deja burst out laughing. --- The art collector heard it too. She was standing near Sera. Her eyebrow rose. Sera looked offended. “That's mine.” Deja called across the room: “Trademark it.” “I might.” The collector laughed. Sera turned back to her. “Sorry.” “Don't be.” “You're enjoying this.” “Very much.” Sera studied her. The woman had waited. No repeated question. No pressure. No attempt to turn the offer into ownership of Sera's time. That mattered. “What was your name again?” Sera asked. The collector stared at her. Then laughed. “Sabine.” “I knew that.” “No, you didn't.” “I did.” “You absolutely didn't.” Sera smiled. “Sabine.” “Yes.” Sera moved closer. Sabine waited. Sera's electric-blue eyes brightened subtly. “You still want me?” Sabine did not look away. “Yes.” “Good.” Sabine smiled. “Now?” Sera considered. Then kissed her. Right there. Not a performance. Not hidden either. Sabine froze for the smallest fraction of a second. Then kissed Sera back. Sera's silver-white hair lifted softly around her shoulders. When she drew away, Sabine looked considerably less composed than she had five seconds earlier. Sera smiled. “Soon.” Sabine exhaled. “You enjoy this.” “Yes.” “Making me wait.” Sera thought about it. “No.” Sabine raised an eyebrow. Sera's smile softened. “I enjoy choosing.” That wiped the teasing from Sabine's face. Not the desire. Something better. “I understand.” Sera looked at her for another moment. “Yes.” Then she walked away again. Sabine watched her go. The physicist appeared beside her. He had apparently escaped Deja. “You paid her, didn't you?” Sabine looked at him. “None of your business.” He nodded. “Definitely.” She laughed. --- Nova met Vega and Helena at the private-wing access point. Helena looked at her. “You're sure?” Nova smiled. “Yes.” Vega looked between them. “Everybody still good?” “Yes,” Helena said. “Yes,” Nova said. Vega nodded. “Me too.” They authenticated. Three credentials. The access door opened. Reyes was standing farther down the lounge. She saw them. Vega looked at her. Reyes gave the smallest nod. Not permission. Acknowledgment. The three women disappeared into the corridor. Room Seven opened. They entered. The door closed. A few seconds later: **ROOM 7 — OCCUPIED** Reyes saw it. So did Mandi. Mandi had stopped dancing long enough to drink water. She looked at the indicator. Then toward the lounge. Nova gone. Vega gone. Helena gone. Mandi smiled. Dalia appeared beside her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was going to say I'm proud of them.” Dalia looked at her. Mandi smiled innocently. Dalia waited. Mandi lasted four seconds. “And maybe ask whether Vega remembered to—” Dalia put the lollipop against Mandi's lips. Mandi stopped. Celia, standing nearby, stared. Mandi took the lollipop into her mouth. Dalia released it. Mandi's black eyes widened. Menthol. Dalia smiled. “Quiet.” Mandi slowly removed the lollipop. Celia was trying not to laugh. Mandi looked at her. “Not. One. Word.” Celia lost the fight. --- Room Seven was warmer than the corridor. Helena stopped inside. Nova closed the door behind them. Nobody moved farther. Good. Vega leaned lightly against the wall. “Same rule in here.” Helena looked at her. “Which one?” “You can change your mind.” “So can you.” “Yes.” Helena looked at Nova. “So can you.” Nova smiled. “Yes.” “And you're watching.” “If everyone still wants that.” Helena thought. Then: “I do.” Vega looked at Nova. Nova nodded. Vega smiled. “Good.” Helena approached Vega. Stopped close. “Kiss you again?” “Yes.” She did. Nova stayed near the seating area. Not pretending not to watch. That would have made the entire arrangement ridiculous. She watched. Vega knew she was watching. That was part of why Vega wanted her there. Helena's hands settled around Vega's waist. Vega kissed her harder. Then laughed quietly against her mouth when Helena encountered one of the gown's hidden structural seams. “Lena.” Helena drew back. “What?” “You're about to meet engineering.” Vega found the release. The gown changed. Helena stared. Nova smiled from across the room. Helena looked at her. “You knew it did that?” “Yes.” “Yours too?” Nova lifted one eyebrow. Helena laughed. “Right. Watching.” “Very good.” Vega looked at Nova. “Behave.” Nova's white-void eyes gave nothing away. “I am.” “Liar.” Helena kissed Vega again. Nova watched her working partner relax into it. Not Brenda. Not here. Vega. And yet the small things were still there. The way she leaned into a confident touch. The little laugh when she was pleased. The moment her shoulders loosened when she stopped thinking. Nova knew those things. Loved those things. Watching did not make her feel excluded. Quite the opposite. Vega opened her eyes once. Found Nova. Nova smiled. Vega smiled back. Then Vega returned completely to Helena. Helena's hands moved over the newly exposed lines of her body. Vega answered by pulling her closer. The kisses became slower. Deeper. The humor did not disappear, but it stopped filling every available space. Nova watched Helena pause whenever Vega's breathing changed. Watched Vega answer with movement rather than explanation when the answer was yes. Then Helena drew back. Her forehead rested against Vega's. “What do you want?” Vega looked at her. The question changed something. Not dramatically. Just enough. She glanced toward Nova. Nova did nothing except remain there. No encouragement required. No permission to grant. Vega looked back at Helena. “I want you to make me come.” Helena smiled. “Okay.” Vega caught her face between both hands. “Still not a blank check.” “I know.” “Good.” She kissed her. Helena guided her toward the bed. Vega went willingly. She sat. Helena stopped between her knees. Nova shifted in the chair, not because she was uncomfortable but because suddenly she understood exactly how much she wanted to see this. Vega noticed. Of course she did. A tiny smile touched her mouth. Then Helena kissed her again and Vega's attention returned to the woman in front of her. Their remaining clothes became less important. Not all at once. Piece by piece. Choice by choice. Until Helena paused once more. Vega looked at her. “Yes.” Helena touched her intimately. Vega's breath caught. There. The first unmistakable change. Her back straightened. One hand caught Helena's shoulder. Then Vega exhaled slowly and relaxed into the touch. Helena watched her face. “Good?” “Yes.” Nova heard the difference in that yes. Not logistical. Not procedural. Pleasure already inside it. Helena continued. Vega's legs shifted apart to give her room. Nothing accidental now. Nothing implied from a distance. Nova could see exactly what Helena was doing to her and exactly how willingly Vega was receiving it. Vega closed her eyes. Then opened them again. Found Nova. Nova's breathing had changed too. Vega smiled. “Still good, sis?” Nova answered honestly. “Very.” Helena glanced back. Nova met her eyes. No jealousy. No request. Just yes. Helena turned back to Vega. Her touch continued with greater confidence now that she knew what Vega liked. Vega's head tipped back. A quiet sound escaped her. Nova felt warmth spread through her own body at the sight. That was the part she had wanted. Not abstract permission. Not simply being in the room. This. Seeing Vega wanted. Seeing her choose. Seeing pleasure take her apart a little at a time while Nova was allowed to remain close enough to witness it. Helena kissed Vega's throat. Vega laughed breathlessly. “That is unfair.” “You said you liked confidence.” “I didn't say competence.” Helena stopped. Vega's eyes opened immediately. “Don't you dare.” Helena laughed. Nova covered her mouth. Vega looked at her. “You too?” Nova lowered her hand. “You walked into that one.” “Terrible working partner.” “Apparently.” Helena resumed. Vega's comeback vanished. Nova's smile softened. The rhythm became steadier. Vega's body answered it openly now. Her hand tightened in the bedding. Her other hand moved into Helena's hair. Not controlling. Holding. Helena watched her. Adjusted. Vega reacted immediately. “Yes.” Helena repeated it. Vega's eyes closed. “Yes.” Nova knew that voice. She had heard Brenda use it with her. With Iris. Private. Unhidden. But hearing it from Vega changed the shape without changing the woman beneath it. Nova leaned forward slightly. Vega's breathing grew shorter. Helena did not rush. That mattered. She stayed with what was working. Vega's hips moved instinctively into the rhythm. Her face lost the last traces of performance. No hostess. No Marlow duo act. No audience beyond the two people she had chosen. Just pleasure. Nova watched her climb toward it. And Vega knew she was watching. That knowledge was part of the pleasure now. Nova could see it every time Vega opened her eyes. Helena noticed too. “You like her watching.” Vega laughed once, breathlessly. “Yes.” Nova felt the word hit her harder than expected. Helena looked over her shoulder. Not stopping. “You like watching?” Nova met her eyes. “Yes.” Helena smiled. Then returned her full attention to Vega. No invitation. No assumption. The observer rule held. And because it held, Nova could enjoy the question without defending the boundary afterward. Vega's breathing broke. “Helena—” Helena stayed with her. Vega's hand tightened in her hair. Her body went taut. Nova saw the instant pleasure tipped beyond control. Vega's mouth opened. No joke came. Release moved through her visibly. A sharp breath. Then another. Her thighs tightened. Her whole body shuddered. Helena remained with her until the tremors softened. Only then did she slow. Vega sagged backward onto the bed. For several seconds nobody spoke. Nova watched her breathe. Watched the ridiculous black-void eyes open again. Vega found her. Nova smiled. Vega's answering smile was lazy and completely satisfied. “Hi, sis.” Nova laughed softly. “Hi.” Helena kissed Vega's stomach. Then moved up beside her. Vega immediately curled toward her. Not because the scene required romance. Because she wanted the contact. Helena put an arm around her. Nova stayed where she was. For a while that was enough. Then Helena looked at Nova. “Are you still okay?” Vega's eyes opened. Not because anything was wrong. Because the question mattered. Nova looked at Helena. “Yes.” “You're enjoying this?” Nova smiled. “Yes.” Helena glanced at Vega. Then back. “Good.” Vega's expression softened. She touched Helena's face. “Thank you.” “For what?” “Asking her.” Helena shrugged. “She matters to you.” “Yes.” “Then she matters in the room.” Nova went still. Vega did too. For one second the cover arrangement became almost painfully close to the truth underneath it. Not the public-cover fiction. The actual thing. Brenda wanted Iris included. Iris wanted Brenda seen. Even when one was only watching. Especially then. Nova stood. Helena watched her. Vega did too. Nova crossed the room. Stopped beside them. She touched Vega's cheek. Then kissed her forehead. Nothing sexual. Nothing that broke the cover. Just affection. “Have fun, sis.” Vega smiled. “I am.” Nova looked at Helena. “Thank you.” Helena smiled. “You're welcome.” Nova returned to the chair. The boundary held. And somehow became warmer for being acknowledged. Vega lay quietly for another minute. Then looked down at herself. At Helena. At Nova. “Well.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “Well?” Vega smiled. “I approve of the observer system.” Nova laughed. “You invented half of it.” “Excellent design.” Helena laughed into Vega's shoulder. Vega turned toward her. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” Helena smiled. “Very.” Vega kissed her. Slower now. Warm. Aftermath rather than escalation. When they separated, Vega looked toward Nova. “You want water?” Nova stared. “You're asking me?” “I am an excellent hostess.” “You're naked.” “Still excellent.” Helena started laughing again. Nova stood. “I'll get the water.” “Best working partner.” Nova handed them glasses. Then took one herself. For several minutes the three women simply remained in the room. No hurry to make the occupied light disappear. No assumption that sex had to lead to another act. Helena and Vega lay close together. Nova sat beside the bed now rather than across the room. Conversation returned gradually. The terrace. The music. The terrible dancing. The fact that Vega had taken forty minutes to learn Helena's name. “You told her that?” Vega demanded. Nova looked innocent. “No.” Helena smiled. “You told me.” Vega stared. “Oh.” Nova laughed. Eventually they dressed. Lena's gown reconstructed itself around Vega with absurd efficiency. Helena watched. “I hate that dress.” Vega looked down at it. “You liked it earlier.” “I liked what it did.” Nova nearly choked on her water. Vega smiled. “I like her.” “I know,” Nova said. --- Outside, Anna had somehow acquired the art collector Sera had abandoned. Sabine looked at her. “Does she always do that?” Anna followed her gaze. Sera was talking to the physicist again as though she had not kissed Sabine breathless two minutes earlier. “Yes.” “You answered very quickly.” “I've known her longer.” “How much longer?” Anna smiled. “Enough.” Sabine looked at Sera. “She said soon.” Anna took a drink. “Then she means soon.” “You sound certain.” “I am.” Sabine looked at her. “And if she changes her mind?” “Then she changes her mind.” Sabine nodded. No complaint. Anna liked her immediately. Then Sabine looked at Anna's platinum hair. “You're new.” Anna laughed. “That obvious?” “Not like that.” “What way?” Sabine considered. “You look like you're discovering how much fun you're allowed to have.” Anna went still. Only for a second. Sabine noticed. “Too personal?” Anna thought. “No.” She looked across the room. At Bea laughing. At Sera arguing. At Mandi with Dalia's lollipop. At Deja apparently explaining something outrageous to two executives. At the private corridor where Nova and Vega had disappeared. Then back at Sabine. “Maybe.” Sabine smiled. “That's a good answer.” Anna smiled too. --- Reyes's tablet vibrated. Not an alarm. Room Seven. Observer credential state confirmed. Exactly as configured. Nova present. Vega present. Helena present. No assistance request. No panic. Nothing else. Reyes cleared the notification. Then she realized someone was standing beside her. Deja. “Busy?” “Yes.” Deja waited. Reyes looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Then why are you here?” Deja smiled. “Watching you work.” Reyes stared. “Why?” “Curiosity.” That word. Reyes's expression did not change. Deja leaned beside her. “You know what I realized?” “No.” “You're the only woman here who doesn't get to disappear into another name tonight.” Reyes looked at her. “I'm working.” “Yes.” Deja smiled. “That's what you said at Victor's.” Reyes's eyes narrowed. Deja pushed away from the wall. “Relax. I'm not starting anything.” “Good.” Deja took two steps. Then looked back. “But you'd look terrifying in full-eyeball contacts.” Reyes stared. Deja grinned. “Security observation.” “Go away.” “Yes, ma'am.” She disappeared into the crowd. Reyes looked back at the room. For absolutely no operational reason, her mind supplied an image. Different hair. Different eyes. A voice not quite hers. Nobody in the room looking at her and seeing Reyes. She killed the thought immediately. Security. The word worked. Mostly. --- Room Seven changed to available. Reyes looked automatically. The corridor door opened a minute later. Nova came out first. Fully composed. Vega and Helena followed. Vega looked very pleased with life. Helena looked relaxed and more than a little amused. Nova looked— Reyes studied her. Satisfied. Interesting. Vega immediately hooked one arm through Nova's. Partner. Nothing else visible. Helena walked on Vega's other side. They reached the lounge. Nova started toward the bar. Vega stopped her. “What?” Vega kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” Nova's expression softened. “You're welcome.” Helena watched. Then smiled. Nova looked at her. “You okay?” “Yes.” “Good.” Vega looked between them. “Food.” Nova stared. “Now you remember?” “Yes.” “You're unbelievable.” “Hungry.” The three walked toward the food together. No announcement. No score. Room Seven simply became another room again. --- Room Three remained empty. Ten other rooms remained available. Sera crossed the lounge. Not toward Sabine. Past her. Sabine watched. Sera reached the bar. Took water. Drank. Set the glass down. Then turned. Looked directly at Sabine. And crooked one finger. Sabine smiled. No hesitation now. She crossed the room. Sera waited. When Sabine reached her, Sera took her hand. “Now.” Sabine's smile became very slow. “Which room?” Sera looked toward the private corridor. Then at Reyes. Reyes saw them coming. Of course she did. Sera and Sabine authenticated. The door opened. Sera paused. Looked at Sabine. “Still yes?” Sabine squeezed her hand. “Very much.” Sera smiled. They disappeared into the corridor. Reyes's tablet updated. **ROOM 5 — OCCUPIED** Seven figures. No number. No announcement. Just another door quietly closing. Except this time Mandi saw exactly who had gone through it. Her jaw dropped. She grabbed Dalia's wrist. Dalia looked at her. Mandi pointed. Dalia followed. Room Five. Mandi whispered: “Oh, shit.” Dalia's smile appeared. “You knew.” “I knew she said yes.” “Yes.” “I didn't know she was going now.” Dalia looked at her. “Neither did Sabine.” Mandi considered. Then grinned. “God, I love Sera.” From somewhere behind them, Deja said: “Seven figures.” Mandi turned. “Do not start.” Deja smiled. Too late. The phrase had already escaped into the evening. And behind the closed door of Room Five, Sera finally had nowhere else she intended to be. --- ## Chapter 14: Seven Figures The door closed behind them. Sera did not kiss Sabine immediately. That surprised her. Sabine had expected the corridor to be the last pause. The room changed that. Not because it was particularly romantic. It was beautiful, certainly. Expensive. Private. Soft light. Music waiting to be selected. Water. A bed large enough to make several interesting mistakes. But none of that was what stopped Sera. She turned. Looked at Sabine. And simply stood there. Sabine smiled. “What?” Sera's electric-blue eyes were bright. “You waited.” “Yes.” “You didn't ask again.” “You said you'd find me.” “Yes.” “So I waited.” Sera stepped closer. “Why?” Sabine laughed softly. “That sounds like a trick question.” “It isn't.” Sabine considered. “Because if I'd had to persuade you, I wouldn't have wanted the answer.” Sera went very still. The faint static around her silver-white hair changed. Not stronger. Different. Sabine noticed. She did not comment. Sera reached up. Touched two fingers lightly against Sabine's jaw. “The number wasn't why I said yes.” “I assumed.” “No.” Sabine met her eyes. “I hoped.” That earned her a smile. Sera kissed her. Not like the kiss outside. That had been a promise. This one was an answer. Sabine's hands found Sera's waist. Sera moved closer until there was no ambiguity left in what she wanted. They kissed slowly at first. Then less slowly. Sabine's composure lasted perhaps fifteen seconds. Sera noticed. Of course she noticed. She drew back just enough to smile. “You were calmer outside.” “I had an audience.” “So did I.” “You enjoyed that.” “Yes.” Sabine laughed against her mouth. Then kissed her again. Her fingers found the architectural line of Sera's gown. Stopped. “This thing looks dangerous.” “It isn't.” “That's disappointing.” “It can be.” Sabine looked at her. Sera smiled. “Lena.” “I've heard that name tonight.” “You should.” Sera found the first hidden release. The gown changed. Not falling away. Opening. Architecture becoming access. Sabine stared. “That is obscene engineering.” Sera laughed. “I'll tell her.” “Please don't tell her I said obscene.” “I absolutely will.” Sabine kissed her before she could say anything else. --- In Room Seven, Nova was still fully dressed. Vega was not. Or at least, considerably less so than when they entered. Helena had discovered Lena's engineering with considerably less verbal analysis than Sabine. Vega approved. Nova sat in one of the chairs near the bed. Comfortable. Visible. Watching because she wanted to. Helena glanced toward her once. Not nervous. Checking. Nova smiled. Helena returned her attention to Vega. Vega noticed the exchange. “See?” Helena kissed her neck. “See what?” “She likes you.” Nova sighed. “Vega.” “What?” “Please stop conducting working partner introductions while someone is kissing your neck.” Helena laughed against Vega's skin. Vega looked at Nova. “She's funny.” “I know.” “You've known her an hour.” “So have you.” “Yeah, but—” Helena kissed her again. Vega stopped talking. Nova smiled. Much better. She watched. There was something unexpectedly intimate about being allowed to do exactly that. Nothing demanded from her. No role she needed to perform. No need to prove that watching was enough. Vega wanted her there. Helena had agreed. That was the entire structure. Simple. Vega's eyes found hers again. Black void to white void. The cover made the exchange unreadable to Helena. But Nova knew her. Vega knew Nova. Vega smiled. Nova smiled back. Then Vega turned toward Helena and let herself enjoy being the center of someone else's attention. Nova settled deeper into the chair. Yes. She understood why Brenda liked this. She already had. But understanding something privately and seeing it fit inside a completely different public identity were not the same thing. Nova crossed one leg over the other. Watched. And enjoyed herself. --- Sabine's dress had joined Sera's outer layers. Neither garment looked remotely concerned. Sera found that funny. Sabine found Sera finding it funny distracting. “You're laughing at the dresses.” “Yes.” “Why?” “They cost more than some cars.” Sabine looked toward the carefully settled fabric. “Your fee costs more than some cars.” Sera's expression changed. Sabine caught it immediately. “That sounded wrong.” “Yes.” “I'm sorry.” Sera waited. Sabine did not try to rescue the sentence. Good. Finally: “I didn't buy you.” “No.” “I know that.” “Yes.” Sabine looked at her. “I made an offer because you told me that was how I could ask.” Sera's expression softened. “Yes.” “And you said yes because you wanted to.” “Yes.” Sabine exhaled. “Good.” Sera moved closer. “Very.” Then kissed her again. No damage. No manufactured offense. A bad sentence. A correction. Done. Sabine's hands moved over Sera's back. Sera leaned into her. The electric-blue of her eyes seemed almost luminous at this distance. Sabine stared. Sera noticed. “What?” “Your eyes.” “What about them?” “They're brighter.” Sera smiled. “Yes.” “Is that normal?” “For me.” “That is not an answer.” Sera laughed. “You've been talking to the physicist.” “He complained about you.” “He likes me.” “He definitely likes you.” Sera kissed Sabine's cheek. “Smart.” Then her jaw. Then lower. Sabine's next breath was less controlled. Sera liked that too. --- Outside, Mandi was attempting to extract information from Reyes. It was going badly. “How much?” “I don't know.” “You know everything.” “I don't.” “You knew Bea went into Room Three.” “Security system.” “You know Sera is in Room Five.” “Security system.” “You know Sabine is with her.” “Credential log.” “So how much?” Reyes stared at her. “Mandi.” “Yes?” “Why would the security system contain the amount of Sera's private arrangement?” Mandi considered. “It should.” “No.” “For analytics.” “No.” “Budget forecasting.” “No.” “Scientific curiosity.” “No.” Mandi looked offended. Dalia appeared behind her. “Leave Reyes alone.” “I am asking legitimate operational questions.” “You're being nosy.” “Also legitimate.” Reyes looked at Dalia. “Take her.” Dalia's hand settled around Mandi's waist. “Gladly.” Mandi looked up. “You can't just—” Dalia lifted her. Mandi's feet left the floor. Celia, passing with a drink, stopped dead. Mandi looked at her. “This happens.” Celia stared. Dalia carried Mandi three steps away. “Frequently?” “Rude.” Dalia put her down. Mandi immediately straightened her gown. Four millimeters. Maybe three. She adjusted it. Lena would have been proud. Celia was laughing. Mandi pointed at her. “I liked you better when you respected me.” “When was that?” Mandi opened her mouth. Closed it. Dalia smiled. Celia won. --- Room Five had become quieter. Sera sat on the edge of the bed. Sabine stood between her knees. They kissed. Sera's hands moved over Sabine's sides. Sabine touched her hair. Carefully. Sera paused. Sabine immediately stopped. “Sorry.” “No.” Sera took her hand. Placed it back into the silver-white strands. “You can.” Sabine's fingers moved through them. A tiny static crack touched her skin. She startled. Sera laughed. “Did you shock me?” “Yes.” “On purpose?” “No.” “Can you?” Sera thought. “Yes.” Sabine stared. Sera's smile became dangerous. “No.” Sabine laughed. “Worth asking.” “Yes.” Sera drew her closer. They kissed again. The playfulness did not disappear as the room grew warmer. It simply stopped needing words. Sabine's hands learned Sera's body. Sera learned what made Sabine's breath catch. Neither hurried. Money had no clock here. That mattered to Sera. Seven figures did not purchase sixty minutes. It did not purchase a checklist. It did not purchase access to things she did not want. It had been an offer. She had chosen the woman. Now she was choosing what happened next. Sera drew back. “Bed.” Sabine smiled. “Yes.” They moved together. Sera went down first, pulling Sabine with her. The mattress shifted beneath them. Sabine kissed her again. Sera's hands moved with increasing certainty. Sabine answered in kind. For a while, the only decisions were small ones. Closer. There. Again. Slower. Yes. Sera's hair spread across the pillow, silver-white against the dark fabric. Tiny strands lifted occasionally with static. Sabine noticed every time. Eventually she laughed softly. “You really are impossible.” Sera looked up at her. “You paid seven figures to discover that?” “I already knew.” “Then why pay?” Sabine smiled. “To see what else I was right about.” Sera's eyes brightened. “Good answer.” She pulled Sabine down into another kiss. Sabine's hand moved slowly along Sera's side. Stopped at her hip. Waited. Sera looked at her. Sabine did not move farther. “What do you want?” There it was. Not what had been purchased. Not what Sabine expected. What Sera wanted. Sera considered the question with surprising seriousness. Then she took Sabine's hand. Guided it. Lower. Between her thighs. Sabine's expression changed. Sera held her gaze. “This.” Sabine smiled. “Yes.” “And I want you to keep looking at me.” “Yes.” Sera released her hand. Sabine touched her. Intimately now. Unmistakably. Sera's breath caught on the first contact. Her eyes remained open. Sabine stopped. Sera shook her head. “No. That's good.” “Sure?” “Yes.” Sabine touched her again. Slower. Sera's fingers tightened against Sabine's shoulder. There was the first shared reaction. Not imagined. Not hidden behind a cut. Sabine watched pleasure register across Sera's face. Sera watched Sabine watching it. A tiny electric crack whispered through the silver-white hair against the pillow. Sabine smiled. Sera narrowed her eyes. “Focus.” “I am extremely focused.” “More.” Sabine laughed softly. Then obeyed. Sera inhaled sharply. “Better.” Sabine learned from that. Adjusted. Sera's body answered. Not dramatically at first. A small movement toward her touch. A change in breathing. The slow disappearance of everything outside the room. Sabine kissed her. Sera kissed her back without asking Sabine to stop what her hand was doing. The combination pulled a quiet sound from her. Sabine heard it. Repeated the movement. Sera's eyes closed. Then opened immediately. “You said keep looking.” “I did.” “So look.” Sabine met her eyes. Sera smiled. “Good.” The rhythm continued. Steady. Deliberate. No rush toward an ending simply because they had finally chosen an act. Sabine kissed her throat. Sera's hand slid into her hair. Held her there for a moment. Then released. Sabine looked up. “Still?” “Yes.” The answer came faster now. Sera's hips moved subtly into her hand. Sabine followed rather than setting the pace for her. That pleased Sera. She showed it. No artist's mask. No deliberately mysterious Sera. Just a woman becoming increasingly unable to hide how good something felt. Sabine's own breathing changed with hers. Sera noticed even through the pleasure. “You like this.” Sabine laughed softly. “Very much.” “Why?” “Watching you stop thinking.” Sera stared at her. “I am thinking.” “About what?” Sera opened her mouth. Nothing arrived. Sabine smiled. Sera's eyes narrowed. “Bitch.” “There she is.” Sera laughed. The laugh broke into a gasp when Sabine's touch found exactly the right rhythm again. “Oh.” Sabine stayed there. Sera stopped laughing. “Yes.” Again. “Yes.” Sabine kissed her. Sera pulled her closer. The pleasure built rather than appearing from nowhere. Sabine could feel each stage of it in the way Sera responded. The tightening of her hand. The shorter breaths. The way her legs shifted. The way the electric brightness in her eyes sharpened whenever she forced them open again. Sabine did not change what was working. Sera appreciated that too. “Don't get clever.” “I wasn't planning to.” “Good.” “Bossy.” “Yes.” Sabine kissed her. Sera's next sound was muffled against her mouth. The static around her hair strengthened. Not enough to hurt. Enough that Sabine could feel tiny prickles against her forearm. She smiled into the kiss. Sera felt it. “Don't.” “I still didn't say anything.” “You keep almost saying things.” “Occupational hazard.” “What occupation?” “Collector.” Sera laughed again. Then suddenly didn't. Her body tightened beneath Sabine's hand. Sabine felt the change immediately. Stayed with the rhythm. Sera's eyes opened. Electric blue fixed on her. “Sabine.” “Yes.” “Don't stop.” “I won't.” That was all Sera needed. Her head pressed back into the pillow. Sabine stayed with her. No sudden change. No attempt to make the moment more impressive than it already was. Sera's breathing broke. Her fingers closed hard around Sabine's arm. Release moved through her. Visible. Unmistakable. A shudder ran through her body. Then another. Silver-white hair lifted from the pillow in a soft static halo. Sabine slowed only when Sera's grip loosened. Sera caught her wrist gently. “Enough.” Sabine stopped immediately. Then moved her hand away. No complaint. No assumption that climax meant another round. Sera reached for her instead. “Come here.” Sabine did. Sera pulled her down. For several breaths neither woman moved. Sabine's head rested against Sera's shoulder. Sera's arm lay around her. The static slowly faded from her hair. One strand remained stubbornly suspended against Sabine's cheek. Sabine blew at it. It floated back. She tried again. Sera opened one eye. “What are you doing?” “Science.” Sera laughed weakly. “You're worse than the physicist.” “That hurts.” “Good.” Sabine kissed her shoulder. Sera closed her eyes again. They remained there. Warm. Quiet. No hurry. No need to convert the silence into anything else. After a while Sabine's fingers traced lazily along Sera's arm. Sera turned her head. “You didn't come.” Sabine looked at her. “That wasn't the agreement.” Sera studied her. “No.” “And I wasn't keeping score.” Sera smiled. “Good.” Sabine touched her cheek. “I enjoyed that.” Sera's smile changed. Softer. “So did I.” “I noticed.” Sera stared. Sabine immediately started laughing. Sera rolled toward her. “Terrible.” “You chose me.” “Yes.” “Seven figures.” “That wasn't why.” “I know.” Sera kissed her. Long. Warm. Unhurried. When she drew away, Sabine remained close enough that their noses almost touched. “Well?” Sera considered. “You're interesting.” Sabine stared. “Seven figures and that's my review?” “Yes.” “Brutal.” Sera smiled. Then kissed her again. Nothing left to prove. They stayed tangled together for several more minutes. Eventually Sabine ran her fingers through Sera's hair. Another tiny spark touched her. This time she did not flinch. She smiled. Sera noticed. “Learning.” “Very expensive lesson.” Sera's eyebrow rose. Sabine caught herself. “Bad phrasing.” Sera waited. Sabine smiled. “Worthwhile lesson.” “Better.” “Do I get a certificate?” “No.” “Repeat appointment?” Sera's expression became immediately more interesting. “Come to Jig-Jig when I'm there.” Sabine blinked. “That is your version of asking to see me again?” “Yes.” “When are you there?” Sera smiled. Sabine stared. “Oh, fuck you.” Sera's smile widened. “You just did.” Sabine laughed hard enough to bury her face against Sera's shoulder. Sera laughed with her. --- Outside, the evening had crossed some invisible threshold. Not sexual. Social. People had stopped behaving like attendees. They behaved like people who had been together for hours. Shoes had begun disappearing. Not literally. Mostly. Sera's were still somewhere near the terrace from earlier. Reyes knew exactly where. She refused to care. Two executives were dancing badly. Adrian had become involved in an argument about street food with Deja. Anna and Leona were sitting close together on a sofa. Bea had rejoined Daniel for conversation but neither appeared to be heading back toward the rooms. Celia was sitting with Mandi and Dalia now. Mandi had somehow ended up partly against Dalia's side while still talking to Celia. Nobody appeared confused by this. Good. Then Room Seven changed to available. Reyes looked automatically. The corridor door opened a minute later. Nova came out first. Fully composed. Vega and Helena followed. Vega looked very pleased with life. Helena looked relaxed and more than a little amused. Nova looked— Reyes studied her. Satisfied. Interesting. Vega immediately hooked one arm through Nova's. Partner. Nothing else visible. Helena walked on Vega's other side. They reached the lounge. Nova started toward the bar. Vega stopped her. “What?” Vega kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” Nova's expression softened. “You're welcome.” Helena watched. Then smiled. Nova looked at her. “You okay?” “Yes.” “Good.” Vega looked between them. “Food.” Nova stared. “Now you remember?” “Yes.” “You're unbelievable.” “Hungry.” The three walked toward the food together. No announcement. No score. Room Seven simply became another room again. --- Room Five remained occupied. Mandi noticed. Of course. “How long has Sera been in there?” Reyes did not look up. “No.” “I asked a time question.” “I know.” “That's security information.” “No.” “It literally is.” “No.” Mandi looked at Dalia. “She's difficult.” Dalia nodded. “Yes.” Reyes looked at her. “Do not encourage her.” Dalia smiled. “I didn't specify which one of you.” Mandi laughed. Reyes considered murder. Briefly. Professionally. Then Room Five changed. Available. Mandi saw it. Her entire face lit up. “Oh!” Reyes pointed at her. “No.” “I haven't done anything.” “You're about to.” “I just want to see her face.” “That sentence is exactly why you're not standing at the corridor.” Mandi looked offended. Dalia put an arm around her waist. “Stay.” Mandi looked up. “Traitor.” “Frequently.” --- Sera emerged barefoot. Sabine beside her. Sera carried her shoes in one hand. Her gown had restored itself almost insultingly well. Her silver-white hair had not. It was not messy. Sera's hair rarely obeyed conventional categories after strong emotion. It carried a soft static lift around the ends. Her electric-blue eyes were still brighter than before. Sabine looked immaculate until someone looked closely. Then the smile ruined the illusion. Reyes saw them. Everything fine. No questions needed. Sera saw Mandi across the room. Mandi stared. Sera smiled. Mandi mouthed: **HOW MUCH?** Sera tilted her head. Then held up seven fingers. Mandi nearly fell off the sofa. Dalia caught her. Sabine saw. “What did you tell her?” “Seven figures.” “She already knew that.” “Yes.” “You're evil.” Sera thought about it. “No.” Sabine looked at her. Sera smiled. “Artist.” Sabine laughed. At the bar, the physicist noticed Sera returning. He looked at Sabine. Then Sera. Then her hair. His eyebrows rose. Sera pointed at him. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was going to ask about static discharge.” “No.” “Scientifically.” “No.” “Later?” Sera considered. “Yes.” He looked delighted. Sabine stared. “You're actually going to explain it to him?” “No.” The physicist's face fell. Sera smiled. “One and a half answers.” Deja, passing behind him, burst out laughing. --- Sabine eventually collected a drink. Sera collected water. They remained together. Not attached. Not pretending the room had created a relationship neither had asked for. Just enjoying the aftermath. After several minutes Sabine looked at her. “Seriously.” Sera looked back. “When are you at Jig-Jig?” Sera drank. Sabine waited. Sera lowered the glass. Smiled. And walked away. Sabine stared after her. Mandi appeared beside her. “She does that.” Sabine looked down. Black eyes. Neon-orange hair. Trouble. “You know her?” Mandi considered. “A little.” Sabine laughed. “I've heard that answer tonight.” Mandi smiled innocently. “Popular phrase.” Sabine looked toward Sera. “So there's no schedule?” “No.” “Booking contact?” “No.” “Agent?” Mandi started laughing. Sabine stared. “What?” Mandi recovered enough to answer. “You want Sera's booking system?” “Yes.” Mandi pointed across the room. At Sera. “Go to Jig-Jig.” “And?” “See if she's there.” Sabine waited. Mandi smiled. “That is the system.” Sabine stared at Sera. Then at Mandi. “You're joking.” “No.” “How does anyone book her?” Mandi's grin became enormous. “Exactly.” Sabine laughed. Not frustrated anymore. Delighted. Across the room Sera looked over. Saw them. Smiled. Then returned to her conversation. Seven figures had purchased exactly what Sera had agreed to give. Nothing more. Nothing less. And somehow Sabine looked entirely satisfied with the arrangement. --- Anna watched the exchange from the sofa. Leona sat beside her. “That woman is fascinating.” Anna smiled. “Yes.” “You know her well.” “Yes.” “You keep saying yes like you're avoiding details.” “Yes.” Leona laughed. Anna looked at her. Their knees touched. Neither moved away. Leona's hand rested on the cushion between them. Close. Not touching. Anna looked at it. Then at Leona. Leona noticed. “Still thinking?” Anna smiled. “Maybe.” “About?” Anna looked around the room. Bea. Sera. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Nova. Vega. All of them had found different versions of the evening. Nobody had handed Anna hers. That was the point. She looked back at Leona. Then placed her hand over Leona's. “About what I want to do next.” Leona turned her hand beneath Anna's. Their fingers intertwined. “Any conclusions?” Anna smiled. “One.” “What?” She leaned closer. And kissed her. Not because Anna was supposed to. Not because Imani had agreed to be a hostess. Not because O'Sullivan SAS had built a very expensive evening around possibility. Because she wanted to. Leona kissed her back. Across the room, Bea saw them. She smiled. Sera saw Bea smiling. Followed her gaze. Her own smile appeared. Then Mandi saw both of them. “What?” Dalia caught Mandi by the waist before she could investigate. “No.” “But—” “No.” Mandi looked up at her. “You are oppressing me.” “Yes.” “Hot.” Dalia closed her eyes. Deja, within hearing distance, nearly inhaled her drink. And the evening rolled onward. --- ## Chapter 15: Anna Discovers Anna Anna had kissed Leona. That, by itself, was not particularly complicated. The complication was that she wanted to do it again. Leona was still close. Close enough that Anna could see the small smile forming before she spoke. “That looked thoughtful.” Anna smiled. “It was.” “Good thoughtful?” Instead of answering, Anna leaned in and kissed her again. Leona laughed softly against her mouth. Apparently that counted as an answer. This kiss lasted longer. Leona's hand settled lightly at Anna's waist. Anna's found her shoulder. Neither hurried. Around them, the evening continued without paying much attention. Music. Conversation. Someone laughing much too loudly near the bar. Mandi demanding something from Reyes and being denied. Normal. At least by the standards the room had established. When Anna finally drew back, Leona looked pleased. “So.” “So?” “I think that was good thoughtful.” Anna laughed. “Yes.” “Excellent.” Leona's hand remained at her waist. Anna looked at it. Then at Leona. “Don't move it.” Leona smiled. “I wasn't planning to.” “Good.” That surprised Anna slightly. Not the touch. Her own answer. She liked how easily it had come. Leona looked toward the dance floor. “Again?” “The dancing or the kissing?” “Yes.” Anna laughed. “Dangerous answer.” “You seem to like those.” Anna took her hand. “Come on.” --- Sera had become a problem. Not an actual problem. A Mandi problem. Which was different. Mandi intercepted her near the bar. Sera was barefoot. Still. Her shoes were in one hand. Her water was in the other. Mandi planted herself directly in front of her. “Seven figures.” Sera looked down at her. “Yes.” “Which seven?” Sera drank. Mandi waited. Sera lowered the glass. “No.” Mandi stared. “That is not an answer.” “It is.” “I need context.” “No.” “Professional context.” Sera tilted her head. “For what profession?” Mandi opened her mouth. Dalia arrived. Mandi pointed at Sera. “She won't tell me.” “Good.” Mandi spun. “You're supposed to be on my side.” “I am.” “This doesn't feel like it.” Dalia's hand settled around Mandi's waist. Sera looked at them. Then at Mandi. “Come to Jig-Jig when I'm there.” Mandi blinked. “What?” Sera smiled. Then walked away. Mandi stared after her. Dalia laughed. “What the fuck did that mean?” “I think she just offered you her booking system.” “I don't want to book Sera.” Sera called back without turning: “Seven figures.” Mandi gasped. “You bitch!” Several guests looked over. Sera raised one hand. Mandi looked up at Dalia. “She started it.” “Of course.” --- Anna and Leona reached the dance floor. It had deteriorated beautifully. The carefully selected music was still excellent. The dancing was no longer careful at all. Vega was back after Room Seven and apparently operating on food, satisfaction and terrible judgment. Nova was trying to stop her from stealing a canapé from Helena's plate. She failed. “Mine,” Helena said. Vega ate it. “Was.” Nova closed her white-void eyes. Helena looked at her. “Does she always do this?” Nova opened them. “Yes.” “Lies.” “You just ate the evidence.” Vega kissed Helena's cheek. Helena immediately forgave her. Nova looked disgusted. Anna laughed. Vega noticed. “Anna!” That was apparently an invitation. Or a threat. Vega caught Anna's free hand and pulled. Anna almost lost Leona. “Hey!” Leona laughed and followed. Suddenly four women were dancing. Then Nova was dragged in because Vega refused to accept objections. Helena joined voluntarily. Five. Mandi saw this. Of course she did. “No.” Dalia said it before Mandi had moved. Mandi looked up. “I didn't do anything.” “You're about to.” “I want to dance.” “You want to invade.” “Semantics.” Celia appeared on Mandi's other side. “I'll dance with you.” Mandi considered. Looked at the growing group. Looked at Celia. “Deal.” She took Celia's hand. Dalia watched them go. Deja appeared beside her. “You're losing control.” Dalia glanced at her. “I never had it.” Deja smiled. “Good answer.” Dalia looked at her. “Dance?” Deja's eyebrows rose. “With you?” “No, the wall.” “Wall might be safer.” Dalia held out her hand. Deja looked at it. Then smiled. “Yes, Master.” She took it. Now the dance floor had become everybody's problem. --- Anna loved it. That realization did not require analysis. She simply did. Vega was laughing. Mandi and Celia were making a serious attempt at dancing well and failing because Mandi kept getting distracted. Nova had given up pretending she disliked any of this. Helena kept catching Vega whenever she attempted something physically ambitious. Dalia moved with calm precision. Deja moved beautifully until she deliberately didn't. Leona stayed close to Anna. And Anna— Anna was having an absurd amount of fun. A man she had spoken with earlier joined the edge of the group. Anna recognized him. Martin. Infrastructure company. Had spent fifteen minutes explaining why every corporate security department eventually hated procurement. He caught Anna's eye. “May I?” Anna looked at Leona. Not for permission. Simply because she was there. Leona smiled. Anna held out a hand. “One song.” Martin took it. “One song.” Leona stepped back into the group. Anna danced with him. Martin was good. Annoyingly good. “You hid this earlier.” He smiled. “You didn't ask.” “I shouldn't have to ask everything.” “That sounds dangerous.” “I've been told.” He spun her. Anna followed easily. The gown moved perfectly. When she came back toward him, Martin's hand settled appropriately at her waist. Nothing more. He smiled. “You're very good at this.” “So are you.” “I meant the evening.” Anna laughed. “So did I.” “No, you didn't.” “No.” He laughed. They danced. Talked. Nothing important. That was important. No business. No contracts. No opportunity disguised as flirtation. Just two adults enjoying a song. When it ended, Martin released her immediately. “One song.” Anna smiled. “One song.” “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” He disappeared toward the bar. Leona returned. “Okay.” Anna looked at her. “What?” “That was hot.” Anna laughed. “Watching me dance?” “Watching you enjoy being watched.” Anna paused. Only for a second. Then smiled. “Maybe I do.” Leona moved closer. “I noticed.” Anna touched her arm. “Careful.” “Why?” “You're getting confident.” “You like confident.” Anna looked at her. “Yes.” Leona kissed her. Right there. Anna kissed her back. --- At the bar, Iris would have been calculating. Nova was eating. There was a difference. Vega noticed. “You've had three.” Nova looked at the tiny canapé in her hand. “They're small.” “Four.” “You stole one.” “Still counts.” Helena leaned toward Nova. “She counted mine too.” “See?” Vega looked betrayed. “Hostile room.” Nova smiled. “You're the one stealing food.” “I require recovery calories.” Helena nearly choked. Nova stared at Vega. Vega smiled sweetly. “Sis.” “Do not.” Helena was laughing too hard to help. Vega leaned against her. Nova looked at them. Then smiled despite herself. The observer rule had worked. Not theoretically. Not because they'd designed it well. It had worked for them. Vega had wanted Nova there. Nova had wanted to watch. Helena had understood exactly what that meant and exactly what it did not. Nobody had needed to negotiate the relationship afterward. Now they were eating tiny expensive food and insulting each other. Perfect. --- Anna and Leona eventually escaped the dance floor. Not toward the rooms. Toward food. Vega intercepted them. “Eat this.” Anna stared at the thing being held toward her. “What is it?” “No idea.” “Excellent recommendation.” “It's good.” Anna took it. Ate it. Paused. “Oh.” Vega pointed triumphantly. “See?” Anna reached for another. Nova slapped Vega's hand away from the same tray. “You've had enough.” “Oppression.” “Survival.” Leona took one. Helena took two. Vega looked at Nova. “You let her take two.” “She didn't steal them.” “This team is corrupt.” Nova kissed Vega's forehead. “Deeply.” The gesture was effortless. Nobody around them reacted. Why would they? Working partners. Anna smiled. Then caught Leona watching her. “What?” “You look happy.” Anna considered the accusation. “Yes.” Leona smiled. “Good.” It really was that simple. --- Bea had acquired another guest. A woman named Rachel. Daniel was still there too. Nobody seemed to find this complicated. Rachel was fascinated by Bea's hair. Daniel was fascinated by Rachel being fascinated by Bea's hair. Bea was fascinated by the entire situation. Anna joined them. Leona beside her. Rachel looked at Anna. “Oh, good.” Anna stopped. “What?” “Someone else.” “Someone else what?” Rachel pointed at Bea. “She refuses to tell me whether the hair feels different.” Anna looked at Bea. Bea smiled. “It doesn't.” Rachel stared. “You could have said that ten minutes ago.” “Yes.” Daniel laughed. Anna touched her own platinum hair. Rachel immediately looked at it. “No.” Rachel looked offended. “I didn't ask.” “You were going to.” Bea nodded. “She was.” Leona laughed. Rachel looked between them. “Is everyone here psychic?” Sera appeared behind her. “Yes.” Rachel jumped. Sera kept walking. Anna laughed so hard she had to put down her drink. --- The evening had become easier after the first doors closed. That was not because everyone suddenly wanted sex. Most did not. Or not yet. Or not with anyone here. It was because possibility had stopped being theoretical. Someone could dance. Someone could kiss. Someone could disappear into a private room. Someone could say no. Someone could say maybe. Someone could spend the entire evening arguing about infrastructure procurement and eat free food. Nothing broke. The room kept going. Anna found herself moving through it naturally. A conversation here. A touch there. A dance. A joke. Someone asked about her lipstick. Someone else complimented the dress. A woman named Elise flirted with her openly for five minutes, discovered Anna was currently much more interested in Leona, smiled and went to talk to Bea instead. No drama. Anna loved that too. Leona found her again near the terrace. “You're popular.” Anna smiled. “So are you.” “I don't have three people asking me to dance.” “You could.” “Are you volunteering?” “Yes.” They danced again. This time slower. Leona's arms settled around her. Anna's around Leona. “You know,” Leona said, “I wasn't planning any of this.” “Neither was I.” “I thought the hostess thing was going to be awkward.” Anna laughed. “It could still become awkward.” “Promising.” Anna smiled. Leona's expression changed. Not much. Enough. “Can I ask?” Anna knew what she meant. The private corridor was visible from where they stood. Anna looked toward it. Then back. “Ask.” “Would you like to go somewhere private with me?” Anna let the question exist. She did not need to answer quickly. Leona waited. That helped. Anna looked at her. “I don't know yet.” Leona nodded. “Okay.” No disappointment. No persuasion. Anna smiled. “That's it?” “That's what?” “No sales pitch?” Leona laughed. “Would it work?” “No.” “Then I'm an excellent strategist.” Anna kissed her. Leona kissed her back. When they separated, Anna whispered: “Ask me again later.” Leona's smile widened. “Okay.” --- Mandi saw that. Of course. She materialized beside Anna approximately thirty seconds later. “What did she ask?” Anna stared. “Go away.” “Room?” “Mandi.” “Was it room?” Leona was laughing. Anna looked at her. “Do not encourage her.” “I haven't said anything.” Mandi pointed. “She has Dalia energy.” Anna looked toward Dalia. Dalia was sitting with Deja again. “She really doesn't.” “Potential.” “Mandi.” Mandi smiled. Anna put one hand on top of Mandi's neon-orange head. Mandi froze. Anna gently rotated her ninety degrees. “Walk.” Mandi looked over her shoulder. “This is humiliating.” “Walk.” Mandi walked. Leona watched her go. “I like her.” “So does everyone. That's the problem.” --- Twenty-five minutes later, Anna was talking with Marianne when Leona returned. She did not interrupt. She waited. Anna noticed. Finished the conversation. Marianne smiled at Leona. “Your turn.” Leona laughed. Anna looked at Marianne. “My turn?” Marianne lifted her drink. “I have eyes.” Then she left. Anna stared after her. Leona stepped closer. “Should I be worried?” “No.” “Good.” Anna looked at her. The answer had arrived sometime during those twenty-five minutes. Not in a revelation. Not in a mirror. Not because anyone had explained anything to her. She had simply spent more time with Leona. Wanted more. That was enough. Anna took her hand. “Yes.” Leona's expression softened. “Yes?” “To your question.” “You're sure?” Anna smiled. “Yes.” Leona squeezed her hand. “Okay.” Anna started toward the private wing. Leona followed. Halfway there, Anna stopped. Leona stopped too. “What?” Anna looked toward the bar. Sera was there. Barefoot. Naturally. Sera saw her. Anna pointed at her own shoes. Sera looked down at hers. Then back. Anna shook her head. Sera smiled. Anna kept walking. Leona looked between them. “What was that?” “I have no idea.” “That seemed meaningful.” “It probably wasn't.” They reached the controlled access point. Reyes saw them. Anna met her eyes. Reyes gave the same small acknowledgment she gave everyone. No judgment. No question. Anna appreciated that. Credentials authenticated. The door opened. They entered the private corridor. Room Nine was available. Anna opened it. They stepped inside. The door closed. Quiet. Leona looked at her. “Still yes?” “Yes.” Anna stepped closer. Kissed her. Leona's hands settled at her waist. Anna's went around her neck. They kissed until the last trace of the lounge disappeared. When Anna drew back, Leona waited. Anna smiled. “You're still waiting for me.” “Yes.” “Good.” She found the hidden release in her gown. Pressed it. The expensive fabric changed around her. Leona stared. Anna laughed. “Oh, that's a good face.” “That dress—” “Lena.” “I don't know Lena.” “You should.” “Apparently.” Anna stepped out of the released outer structure. The fabric immediately began settling itself into pristine folds. Leona stared at that too. “This evening is ridiculous.” “Yes.” Anna kissed her again. “And I really like it.” Leona smiled against her mouth. “Good.” Anna drew her toward the bed. No hesitation now. No need to decide what the evening meant. Only what they wanted next. Outside, Reyes's tablet quietly updated. **ROOM 9 — OCCUPIED.** And inside, Anna kissed Leona again because she wanted to find out exactly how much more fun the evening could become. --- ## Chapter 16: Exactly How Much More Fun Anna discovered the answer quickly. Quite a lot. Leona kissed her while the released structure of the gown finished settling itself behind them. Anna laughed into the kiss. Leona drew back. “What?” “The dress.” “You're thinking about the dress now?” “It costs enough that I feel responsible for it.” Leona glanced over Anna's shoulder. The fabric looked immaculate. “I think it's taking care of itself.” “It does that.” “Of course it does.” Anna smiled. “Lena.” “Yes. The mysterious Lena.” “You really should meet her.” “Would she like me?” Anna considered. “She'd evaluate your shoes first.” Leona looked down. “That wasn't the question.” “It would be her answer.” Leona laughed. Anna kissed her again. This time neither woman interrupted it with fashion commentary. Leona's hands settled against Anna's waist. Anna pulled her closer. The bed touched the back of Anna's legs. She sat. Leona remained standing between her knees. For a moment they simply looked at each other. Leona touched the black lipstick with one thumb. Nothing transferred. Her eyebrows rose. Anna smiled. “Go ahead.” Leona kissed her. Harder this time. Anna's hands moved over her back. Leona leaned into her. When they separated, Leona looked at Anna's mouth. “Nothing.” “Of course.” “That is unnatural.” “Expensive.” “I'm beginning to understand the theme.” Anna laughed. Leona touched her shoulder. Then stopped. Not uncertainty. A check. Anna noticed. “Yes.” Leona's hand continued. Anna liked that. Liked being asked without turning every touch into a committee meeting. She reached for Leona's dress. Stopped. Leona smiled. “Yes.” Anna's fingers resumed. Fair. They undressed each other gradually. Not elegantly. Leona got briefly trapped by one sleeve. Anna laughed at her. Leona retaliated by finding a fastening Anna had missed. Neither cared. Eventually clothing stopped being interesting. Leona stood close again. Anna looked up at her. “You're beautiful.” Leona smiled. “So are you.” “I know.” Leona stared. Then burst out laughing. Anna grinned. “That was terrible.” “That was amazing.” “Thank you.” Leona pushed her gently backward onto the bed. Anna went willingly. Leona followed. They kissed. Anna wrapped one leg around her. Leona's hand moved along her side. Over her hip. Paused. Anna opened her eyes. Leona waited. Anna took her hand. Guided it lower. “This.” Leona's expression warmed. “Yes?” “Yes.” The first intimate touch pulled a sharp breath from Anna. Leona stopped immediately. Anna shook her head. “Good.” Leona watched her. “Good?” “Very.” She touched her again. Anna's eyes closed. “Oh.” Leona smiled. Anna opened one eye. “Don't get smug.” “I didn't say anything.” “You didn't need to.” Leona kissed her. Her hand continued. Slowly. Anna relaxed beneath her. Then began moving with the touch instead of simply receiving it. Leona noticed. Adjusted. Anna's breath caught again. “There.” Leona repeated it. Anna's fingers tightened against her shoulder. “Yes.” No ambiguity. No performance. No audience. Leona stayed with what worked. Anna kissed her whenever she could still concentrate enough to do it. When she couldn't, Leona kissed her instead. The pleasure accumulated. Not suddenly. Not neatly. Anna laughed once when Leona lost the rhythm. Then gasped when she found it again. “Okay.” Leona smiled. “Found it?” “Don't talk.” “Yes, ma'am.” Anna laughed. “Fuck you.” “Working on it.” That made Anna laugh harder. Which ruined everything for approximately six seconds. Leona waited. Anna caught her breath. “You're terrible.” “You like me.” “Yes.” The word came without hesitation. Leona kissed her. Then resumed. Anna's laughter slowly disappeared. Her breathing changed. Her body followed Leona's hand. The platinum hair spread across the pillow. Black lipstick still perfect. Anna thought that was absurdly funny for half a second. Then Leona found the rhythm again and Anna stopped thinking about lipstick. “Yes.” Leona stayed there. Anna's hand closed around her arm. Her breathing shortened. “Don't change.” “I won't.” Anna opened her eyes. Leona was watching her. Not the room. Not the dress. Not anything else. Her. Anna liked that more than she expected. The next wave of pleasure made her eyes close again. Her hips moved. Leona followed. Anna whispered her name. Leona kissed her. The buildup tightened. Anna's fingers dug into her shoulder. Then pleasure broke through her. Her breath caught completely. Her body went taut beneath Leona. A shudder ran through her. Then another. Leona stayed with her until Anna's grip softened. Anna caught her wrist. “Enough.” Leona stopped. Immediately. Anna exhaled. For several seconds neither moved. Then Anna reached up. Pulled Leona down. “Come here.” Leona settled beside her. Anna curled against her. The room became very quiet. Leona kissed her forehead. Anna smiled with her eyes closed. “Well?” Leona asked it softly. Anna opened one eye. “That was extremely fun.” Leona laughed. “Excellent.” Anna closed her eye again. “I may require independent verification.” “Of?” “How fun.” Leona laughed harder. Anna smiled. Then turned her head and kissed her. Slowly. The kiss ended. Neither woman moved away. After a while Anna traced one finger along Leona's arm. “You didn't come.” “No.” Anna looked at her. Leona shrugged slightly. “I was enjoying you.” Anna considered that. “Would you like to?” Leona's smile appeared. “Yes.” Anna rolled toward her. “Good.” This time Anna asked. “What do you want?” Leona answered. Anna listened. Then smiled. “Okay.” She kissed her. Her hand followed Leona's guidance. The first intimate touch made Leona inhale sharply. Anna stopped. Leona immediately shook her head. “Don't.” Anna smiled. “Good?” “Yes.” Anna continued. She learned quickly. Not perfectly. Leona corrected her once. Then again. Anna listened both times. The third time Leona's response told her she had it. Anna grinned. Leona opened her eyes. “Don't get smug.” Anna laughed. “That sounds familiar.” “Shut up.” Anna kissed her. Kept touching her. Leona's hand tightened against Anna's back. The laughter faded. Anna watched her. Now she understood why Leona had enjoyed watching her. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing pleasure arrive because of a choice you were making together. Leona's breathing changed. Anna followed it. When Leona shifted, Anna adjusted. When she whispered “there,” Anna stayed there. No rush. No unnecessary cleverness. Just attention. Leona pulled Anna closer. Their foreheads touched. Anna kept the rhythm steady. Leona's eyes closed. Her breathing broke. Anna felt her body tighten. “Still?” “Yes.” The answer barely made it out. Anna continued. Leona's hand closed hard around her shoulder. Then release took her. Her body shuddered. A quiet sound escaped against Anna's neck. Anna held her through it. Slowed when Leona began to soften. Stopped when Leona whispered: “Okay.” Anna withdrew her hand. Leona immediately pulled her closer. They lay together. Breathing. Warm. Still. No jokes for a while. Eventually Leona kissed Anna's shoulder. Anna kissed her hair. Leona murmured: “Verified.” Anna smiled. “Scientifically?” “Rigorous methodology.” “Good.” “Peer review may be required.” Anna laughed. “There it is.” Leona smiled against her skin. --- Outside Room Nine, absolutely nothing exploded. Reyes appreciated this. She checked the tablet. Room Nine occupied. No assistance. No panic. No problems. She looked up. Deja was sitting on the edge of the bar. This was almost certainly against venue policy. Reyes decided not to know. A man stood in front of Deja. Adrian. They had been talking for several minutes. Dalia was nearby. Not hovering. Present. Adrian said something. Deja laughed. Then looked at Dalia. Dalia met her eyes. Deja turned back to Adrian. Interesting. Reyes looked away. Not her business. Unless it became her business. That was the pleasant part of security. --- Adrian had finally asked the question he'd been circling for ten minutes. “So the leash isn't decorative.” Deja looked down. At the discreet line disappearing into Dalia's hand. “No.” “And she decides where you go?” “No.” Adrian frowned. Deja smiled. “We covered this.” “I thought we did.” Dalia said nothing. That was deliberate. Deja looked at Adrian. “She holds structure.” “And you?” “Myself.” Adrian nodded slowly. “Right.” “Getting there.” He smiled. “Can I ask something rude?” “You've been doing well so far.” “Would she let you go somewhere with me?” Deja's smile disappeared. Not angrily. Precisely. “Wrong question.” Adrian caught it. “Right.” He thought. Then tried again. “Would you want to go somewhere with me?” Deja smiled. “Better.” “And?” “Maybe.” Adrian glanced at Dalia. Caught himself. Looked back at Deja. Deja's smile widened. “Learning.” He laughed. “What turns maybe into yes?” “Usually me deciding.” “Terrifying system.” “Very.” Dalia finally spoke. “She's difficult.” Deja looked at her. “You like difficult.” “Yes.” Adrian smiled. “I feel like I'm being interviewed.” Deja leaned closer. “No. If you were being interviewed, I would be much meaner.” Adrian blinked. Deja smiled. Dalia's eyes flicked toward her. “Should I be afraid of you?” “Yes,” Deja and Dalia said together. Adrian laughed. --- Bea joined them. Daniel was elsewhere now. Talking with Rachel. Bea looked at Adrian. Then Deja. Then Dalia. “Am I interrupting?” “Yes,” Deja said. “No,” Adrian said. Dalia smiled. Bea considered. “I'll trust the paying guest.” Deja gasped. “Betrayal.” Bea took Deja's abandoned drink. “Hydration.” “That isn't water.” Bea inspected it. “Oh.” She put it back. Adrian laughed. “You're Bea.” “Yes.” “I've been told you're dangerous.” “By whom?” He pointed at Deja. Bea looked at her. Deja smiled. “I said socially dangerous.” “That sounds worse.” “It is.” Bea looked at Adrian. “She's lying.” Dalia said: “She isn't.” Bea looked at Dalia. “You too?” “Yes.” Adrian was enjoying himself far too much. Bea smiled. Then noticed the leash. Looked at Deja. Then Dalia. “Oh.” Deja's eyebrows rose. “What?” “Nothing.” “You did an oh.” “I did.” “What kind?” Bea smiled. “Recognition.” Deja stared. Then laughed. “Right.” Adrian looked between them. “I am once again missing context.” Bea patted his arm. “That's healthy.” --- Room Nine eventually became available. Reyes saw it. Did nothing. A few minutes later Anna and Leona emerged. Both dressed. Anna's gown had returned to perfection. Her platinum hair required minor attention. The black lipstick remained offensively untouched. Leona looked at it. Then at Anna. “I hate your lipstick.” Anna laughed. “You liked it earlier.” “I have evidence it is unnatural.” “You have no evidence.” “I conducted extensive testing.” Anna almost walked into the wall laughing. Reyes looked at them. Fine. More than fine. Anna caught Reyes's eye. Reyes gave a tiny nod. Anna smiled. Then returned to the lounge with Leona. Mandi saw her. Anna saw Mandi seeing her. “No.” Mandi had not moved yet. Her mouth closed. Anna pointed. “No.” Mandi looked at Dalia. “I am being oppressed again.” Dalia smiled. “You're surviving.” “Barely.” Anna passed them. Mandi waited until she was three steps away. Then: “Fun?” Anna stopped. Turned. Mandi smiled innocently. Anna considered several answers. Then grinned. “Extremely.” Mandi's face lit up. Anna walked away before the interrogation could begin. Dalia caught Mandi around the waist. “No.” “But—” “No.” “I only have fourteen questions.” “Exactly.” --- Anna found Sera near the terrace. Still barefoot. Naturally. Sera looked at her. Anna looked at Sera. Neither spoke. Then Sera smiled. Anna smiled back. That was enough. Leona joined Anna. Sera looked at her. “Good?” Leona blinked. Anna laughed. “Yes.” Sera nodded. Then walked away. Leona stared after her. “Was she asking me or you?” “Yes.” Leona looked at Anna. Anna smiled. “Now you're learning.” --- At the bar, Adrian had apparently reached another decision. He looked at Deja. “Ask again later?” Deja smiled. “No.” He blinked. Dalia's expression did not change. Adrian recovered. “Okay.” Deja watched him. He did not argue. Did not ask why. Did not glance at Dalia. He simply picked up his drink. “Still want to dance?” Deja's smile changed. “Yes.” Adrian held out his hand. Deja looked at Dalia. Not for permission. Dalia loosened the leash. Deja took Adrian's hand. As she passed Dalia, Dalia said quietly: “Have fun.” Deja smiled. “Yes, Master.” Then she and Adrian went to dance. Bea watched them. Dalia noticed. “What?” Bea smiled. “Nothing.” “You're doing the oh again.” “Maybe.” Dalia looked toward Deja. Then back at Bea. Bea lifted both hands. “Not my business.” “Correct.” Bea smiled. “But interesting.” Dalia laughed. “Also correct.” --- The room had reached the point where nobody remembered how formal it had looked at the beginning. Good. That had been the idea. Not private rooms. Not sex. Not twenty guests being efficiently paired with eight women. This. Anna sitting with Leona and laughing. Vega feeding Helena something while Nova complained about crumbs. Sera barefoot and impossible. Mandi trapped happily against Dalia's side. Deja dancing with a man she had just refused to sleep with. Bea moving between conversations because she genuinely liked them. People who had arrived expecting corporate polish now relaxed enough to forget they were supposed to be impressed. Reyes watched the room. No threat. No incident. No objective being pursued. Just an evening working exactly because nobody was forcing it to work. Then Bea appeared beside her again. Reyes sighed. “What?” Bea smiled. “You're doing it.” “Doing what?” “Having fun.” “I am not.” “You almost smiled.” “No.” “I saw it.” “Security hallucination.” Bea laughed. Reyes looked across the room. Anna kissed Leona again. Mandi said something that made Dalia cover her face. Sera had apparently convinced the physicist to remove one shoe. Reyes had no idea why. She did not want to know. Probably. Her mouth betrayed her. Just slightly. Bea pointed. “There.” Reyes immediately stopped. “Go away.” Bea smiled. “Yes, boss.” And disappeared back into the evening. --- ## Chapter 17: No Wasn't the End Adrian danced with Deja for almost an entire song before asking: “Did I screw that up?” Deja looked at him. “What?” “Earlier.” “No.” “The room.” “You asked.” “You said no.” “Yes.” “And now we're dancing.” “Yes.” Adrian frowned. Deja smiled. “You're making this complicated.” “I thought I was simplifying it.” “You asked if I wanted to sleep with you.” “Yes.” “I didn't.” “Right.” “You asked if I wanted to dance.” “Yes.” “I did.” Adrian stared. Deja waited. Then he laughed. “Okay.” “Congratulations.” “For what?” “Understanding words.” “High bar.” “Tonight apparently.” He laughed again. The song changed. Neither stopped dancing. Deja liked him more for that. Not because he had accepted rejection. That was minimum competence. Because he had accepted it without making the rest of the evening weird. There had been no wounded withdrawal. No attempt to bargain. No sudden coldness. He had simply asked another question whose answer might be different. That was considerably more interesting. Dalia watched from across the room. Not constantly. Enough. Deja caught her eye. Dalia raised her glass. Deja smiled. Adrian noticed. “She checking on you?” “No.” “Checking on me?” “No.” “What was that?” Deja looked at him. “She likes seeing me happy.” Adrian glanced toward Dalia again. Then back. “I think I'm starting to understand.” “Don't get ambitious.” --- Bea was having an argument about coffee. This was dangerous territory. Rachel had made the mistake of claiming there was no meaningful difference between coffee produced by a premium automated system and coffee made manually by someone who cared. Bea stared at her. Daniel took one step away. Rachel noticed. “Why is he leaving?” “He has survival instincts.” “It's coffee.” Bea's ice-blue hair shifted as she leaned forward. “Exactly.” Rachel laughed. “You're serious.” “Yes.” “Blind test.” Bea paused. Daniel stopped retreating. Rachel pointed at her. “Blind test. You can't know which is which.” Bea considered. “Fine.” Daniel returned. “You're actually doing this?” “Yes.” Rachel looked triumphant. Daniel looked at Bea. “What happens if you lose?” “I won't.” “That wasn't the question.” Bea smiled. “Then nothing.” Rachel looked offended. “I want stakes.” Bea thought. Then pointed across the room. “If I lose, I'll dance with whoever you choose.” Rachel's eyes lit up. Daniel looked alarmed. “And if you win?” Bea smiled. “You admit publicly that automated coffee is an insult to civilization.” Rachel stared. “That is absurd.” “Yes.” “Deal.” Daniel looked between them. “Where exactly are we getting two controlled coffee samples?” All three slowly turned. Toward Reyes. Reyes saw them looking. “No.” They had not moved. Bea raised one finger. Reyes pointed back. “No.” Rachel laughed. Bea sighed. “Security is oppressive.” From across the room Mandi shouted: “THANK YOU.” Reyes closed her eyes. --- Anna had not left Leona's side. Not because she had to stay there. Because she wanted to. That distinction had become increasingly easy. They sat with Marianne now. Marianne was explaining how she'd once spent three hours at a corporate reception listening to two executives pretend they had not already agreed on a merger. Anna stared. “Why?” “Because neither wanted the other to think they wanted it more.” Leona frowned. “That sounds exhausting.” “It was.” Anna took a drink. “Did they merge?” “Four days later.” Leona laughed. Anna shook her head. “This is why nobody is allowed to negotiate tonight.” Marianne pointed at her. “Exactly.” “Tomorrow has phones.” Nova, passing behind them with food, heard it. She stopped. Looked at Anna. Anna looked at her. Together: “Tomorrow has phones.” They laughed. Marianne smiled. “You rehearsed that.” “No,” Anna said. “Yes,” Nova said. Anna stared. Nova kept walking. “Traitor.” Leona leaned toward Anna. “I like her.” “You like everybody.” “Not everybody.” “Who don't you like?” Leona considered. Then subtly pointed toward a man near the terrace. Anna followed. “Why?” “He asked if I was included with you.” Anna's smile disappeared. “When?” “Earlier.” “What did you say?” “No.” “And?” “He said okay.” Anna relaxed. Leona smiled. “So I don't dislike him very much.” “Reasonable.” “High standards.” Anna kissed her cheek. “Yes.” --- Mandi had finally escaped Dalia. Technically. Dalia had let go. Mandi had immediately crossed the room and joined a conversation between Celia and two existing O'Sullivan clients. One of them, Marianne, knew Amber. Not socially. Professionally. Which was somehow worse. “I still can't believe she's not here.” Mandi smiled. “Amber?” “Yes.” “Terrible.” Marianne looked at her. “You don't sound devastated.” “I hide pain well.” Celia choked on her drink. Marianne laughed. “You've met her?” Mandi paused. Dalia, approaching from behind Marianne, saw the danger immediately. Mandi smiled. “Briefly.” That was technically true in several philosophically offensive ways. “What did you think?” Mandi looked past Marianne. Dalia's neon-green reflective eyes met hers. Do not. Mandi's smile widened. “Very short.” Dalia stopped. Celia covered her mouth. Marianne blinked. Then laughed. “I meant personally.” “Oh.” Mandi pretended to think. “Intimidating.” Dalia arrived beside her. Mandi looked up. “What?” Dalia's voice carried its low whiskey-and-smoke warmth. “You're enjoying yourself too much.” “Impossible.” Marianne looked at Dalia. “And Maeve?” Mandi became very still. Dalia did too. Celia saw it. Interesting. Marianne continued: “You've met Maeve too?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” Mandi bit the inside of her cheek. “How is she?” Dalia considered. “Tall.” Mandi broke. She folded against Dalia laughing. Marianne stared. Celia understood first. Not the truth. Just the joke. “Oh, fuck both of you.” Dalia put an arm around Mandi. Mandi was still laughing. Marianne looked between them. “Is there some hostess conspiracy against the O'Sullivans?” “Yes,” Mandi managed. “No,” Dalia said. They looked at each other. Mandi laughed harder. --- Reyes heard enough of it to become concerned. Not operationally. Professionally. She approached. Mandi saw her. Immediately straightened. Reyes stopped. “What are you doing?” “Networking.” “No.” “Relationship building.” “No.” “Representing O'Sullivan SAS.” “Absolutely not.” Marianne laughed. Reyes looked at her. “Everything okay?” “Perfect.” Reyes looked at Mandi. Mandi smiled angelically. Reyes looked at Dalia. Dalia's expression was composed. That meant nothing. Celia was openly laughing. Reyes decided she did not want context. “Fine.” She turned away. Mandi waited. Three seconds. “Amber is adorable.” Reyes stopped walking. Dalia closed her eyes. Marianne laughed. Reyes continued walking without turning around. Wise. --- Deja and Adrian had left the dance floor. Not for the private wing. For food. Adrian handed Deja a plate. Deja looked at it. “You chose for me?” His face changed immediately. “Oh.” Deja waited. “I fucked up.” “What did you choose?” He looked down. “Things I saw you eating earlier.” Deja looked at the plate. Then at him. “That was observant.” “So not fucked up?” “Ask.” Adrian sighed. “Would you like the plate of things I saw you eating earlier?” “Yes.” She took it. He smiled. Deja smiled back. “See?” “This is educational.” “Expensive seminar.” “Do I get a certificate?” Sera's voice came from nowhere. “No.” Adrian jumped. Sera took one item from Deja's plate. Deja stared. “You didn't ask.” Sera ate it. “Yes.” “That isn't how asking works.” Sera looked at Adrian. “She's difficult.” Adrian laughed. “I've heard.” Deja pointed at Sera. “Get your own food.” Sera walked away. Deja watched her. “She is impossible.” Adrian smiled. “You like her.” “Yes.” That answer was easy too. --- Bea's coffee experiment had somehow acquired six participants. Still no coffee. Rachel had recruited Martin. Daniel had recruited Celia. Celia had brought Mandi. Mandi had brought Dalia because Dalia refused to let Mandi disappear into anything involving caffeine without supervision. Reyes saw the cluster. “No.” Bea looked at her. “We haven't asked.” “You're going to.” Rachel smiled. “We need coffee.” “No.” “Two coffees.” “No.” “Identical cups.” “No.” Mandi looked at Reyes. “Machine coffee?” Reyes frowned. “What?” “For comparison.” “No.” Rachel smiled. “Now I definitely want to know what she considers acceptable.” Dalia looked at Mandi. “You are not turning this into a coffee operation.” Mandi smiled. “Too late.” Reyes looked deeply suspicious. The universe moved on. Barely. --- The evening shifted again. Not dramatically. The first wave of private-room curiosity had passed. People returned. A few new connections formed. Some guests danced. Others settled into the quieter corners. Food disappeared faster. The bar became less formal. Shoes became negotiable. Reyes had located four abandoned pairs. Sera accounted for one. Nobody admitted ownership of another. Vega claimed the third belonged to Nova. Nova denied this while visibly wearing different shoes. Reyes did not investigate. Anna was laughing with Leona and Marianne. Sera had returned to the physicist. Nova and Helena were discussing something while Vega rested her head on Nova's shoulder. Bea's coffee tribunal was still threatening civilization. Deja sat with Adrian. And Mandi— Mandi was in Dalia's lap. Reyes noticed because of course she did. Not unusual. Not concerning. Mandi sat sideways across Dalia's thighs on one of the lounge sofas, one arm loosely around Dalia's shoulders. Dalia's hand rested at her waist. Celia sat opposite them. Marianne beside her. The conversation had moved to travel. Then hotels. Then terrible corporate hospitality. Then beds. Naturally. “I had one in Tokyo,” Marianne said, “that was so aggressively firm I think it was legally flooring.” Mandi laughed. “Japanese hotels.” “You know?” “Yes.” Dalia's fingers tightened very slightly at Mandi's waist. Mandi felt it. Not warning. Awareness. Marianne continued. “The bathroom was incredible.” “Usually.” “You've spent time there?” Mandi looked at her. “Yes.” No problem. True enough. Celia looked at Dalia. “Korea?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” “Better hotels?” “Depends what you pay.” Mandi looked at her. “That's true everywhere.” “Mostly.” Marianne smiled. “You two travel together?” Mandi and Dalia looked at each other. “Yes,” Mandi said. “Often,” Dalia added. Also true. Celia watched them. There was something fascinating about their coordination. Not rehearsed. Too easy. “How long have you been together?” Mandi smiled. “A while.” Dalia's hand remained at her waist. Marianne leaned back. “You look like you've been together forever.” Mandi looked up at Dalia. Dalia looked down at her. Something quiet passed between them. Then Mandi smiled. “Feels like it.” No joke. Celia noticed that too. The conversation softened for a moment. Then Marianne ruined it. “So which one of you is worse?” Dalia answered immediately. “Her.” Mandi gasped. “Betrayal.” “You know it's true.” “I am delightful.” “You're a menace.” Celia laughed. Marianne looked at Mandi. “She has a point.” Mandi stared. “I thought we were bonding.” “We are.” “This is abuse.” Dalia kissed Mandi's temple. “Terrible.” Mandi leaned into her. “Thank you.” --- Celia watched the kiss. Then looked at Dalia. Then Mandi. She had danced with Mandi. Kissed her once. Not much. Enough. Dalia had never objected. Celia understood the shape better now. Still, curiosity remained. She looked at Mandi. “Can I ask something?” Mandi smiled. “Probably.” Celia glanced at Dalia. Then back to Mandi. “If I wanted to kiss you again.” Mandi's expression warmed. “You can ask.” Celia smiled. “Can I kiss you again?” “Yes.” Mandi started to move. Then stopped. Still sitting in Dalia's lap. She looked at Dalia. Not for permission. Logistics. Dalia understood. Her hand shifted at Mandi's waist. Held her comfortably. Mandi turned toward Celia. Celia leaned in. Kissed her. Dalia did not move away. Mandi remained in her lap. The kiss was warm. Unhurried. Celia's hand touched Mandi's cheek. Mandi answered. Then they separated. Marianne stared. Not scandalized. Interested. Mandi settled back against Dalia. Dalia's hand returned to its previous place. Celia looked at Dalia. “You really don't mind.” Dalia smiled. “No.” Mandi looked up at her. “Good.” Dalia looked down. “Were you worried?” “No.” “Then?” Mandi smiled. “I like hearing it.” Something changed in Dalia's expression. Small. Warm. Her fingers brushed Mandi's side. “Good.” Marianne watched them. “I suddenly understand why the O'Sullivans hired you.” Mandi almost choked. Dalia's mouth twitched. Celia laughed. “What?” Marianne gestured at them. “This.” Mandi recovered. “What is this?” “You make everything look easy.” Dalia's eyes met Mandi's. Mandi smiled. “That part is real.” Marianne nodded. “I know.” And there it was. The reason the evening worked. Not because the hostesses were beautiful. They were. Not because sex was available. It was. Not because O'Sullivan SAS had spent an offensive amount of money making everything effortless. They had. It worked because nobody in the room looked like they were waiting for the evening to become something else. They were already where they wanted to be. --- Bea finally abandoned the coffee experiment. Rachel looked betrayed. “You promised.” “We don't have controlled samples.” “We have a kitchen.” “We have venue staff who hate us now.” Rachel looked toward the bar. One bartender saw her. Shook his head. Rachel sighed. “Tomorrow.” Bea smiled. “Tomorrow.” Rachel stared. Then laughed. “Now that sounded ominous.” “It wasn't.” From nearby, Nova said: “It should be.” Bea looked at her. Nova raised her glass. Bea raised hers. Rachel sighed. “I joined a cult.” Daniel appeared beside her. “Good catering.” “True.” --- Adrian eventually left Deja to take a call on the terrace. Deja returned to Dalia. Mandi was still in her lap. Deja stopped. Looked at Mandi. Looked at Dalia. Then at the empty space beside them. Mandi patted it. Deja sat. Celia smiled at her. “Good dance?” “Yes.” “Only dance?” Deja looked at her. “Yes.” Celia nodded. No judgment. Deja liked that. Mandi looked at her. “You said no?” “Yes.” “And he survived?” “Heroically.” Dalia smiled. Deja leaned back. “He asked me to dance instead.” Mandi's expression softened. “Oh.” “Yes.” “I like him.” “So do I.” “Enough to—” Deja looked at her. Mandi stopped. Then smiled. “None of my business.” Dalia kissed the side of Mandi's head. “Learning.” Mandi looked offended. “I am extremely respectful.” Three women laughed. Mandi stared at them. “This room is hostile.” --- Adrian returned. He saw Deja sitting with Dalia and Mandi. Paused. Then approached. “Am I interrupting?” Deja smiled. “No.” Mandi looked at him. “You're Adrian.” “Yes.” “I've heard about you.” Deja turned slowly. “Mandi.” “What?” “You have not.” “I heard your name.” “That is not the same thing.” Adrian laughed. Mandi held out a hand. “Mandi.” He shook it. “I know.” “Everybody keeps saying that.” Dalia looked at Adrian. He straightened slightly. Interesting. “Dalia.” “Yes.” “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” No challenge. No ownership display. No awkward inspection. Dalia simply looked at him. Then at Deja. Deja smiled. Adrian noticed. He looked at Deja. “I think I'm going to get another drink.” Deja's eyebrows rose. “Running away?” “No.” He smiled. “Giving you time with your people.” Deja's expression softened. “Good answer.” He left. Mandi watched him go. Then looked at Deja. “Okay.” Deja smiled. “Right?” Dalia said nothing. Deja looked at her. “Well?” Dalia considered. “He listens.” “Yes.” “He corrected himself.” “Yes.” “He didn't treat my presence as competition.” Deja's smile widened. “Yes.” Mandi looked between them. “Are we evaluating him?” “No,” Deja and Dalia said together. Mandi grinned. “Absolutely evaluating him.” Dalia looked at Deja. Deja laughed. “Maybe a little.” --- Across the room, Reyes checked the time. Then checked it again. Not late. Not early. The event had simply stopped feeling scheduled. That was new. Her original run sheet had contained approximate transitions. Arrival. Opening. Dinner. Social period. Optional private-room availability. Late-evening service. Nothing had happened on time. Everything had happened correctly. Reyes hated how much she respected that. Bea appeared. Again. Reyes didn't look at her. “No.” “I haven't said anything.” “No.” Bea stood beside her. For once, she did not tease. They watched the room together. After a while Bea said: “This is working.” “Yes.” “Better than expected.” “Yes.” “Nova is going to be unbearable when the follow-ups arrive.” Reyes glanced at her. Bea smiled. “She's currently eating.” “Right.” They watched Nova steal something from Vega's plate. Vega gasped. Bea smiled. “Justice.” Reyes almost laughed. Almost. Bea saw it. Did not point this time. Progress. --- The next private-room door did not close because anyone planned it. It started with Celia asking Mandi: “Would you dance again?” Mandi looked up at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Mandi slid from her lap. “Yes.” Celia took her hand. They left. Marianne watched them go. Then looked at Dalia. “You really are fine with it.” Dalia leaned back. “Yes.” Marianne considered. Then smiled. “I think I envy that.” Dalia looked at her. “What part?” “The certainty.” Dalia thought about it. “It's not certainty.” Marianne frowned. “No?” “No.” Dalia looked across the room. Mandi was already dancing with Celia. “It's trust.” Marianne followed her gaze. “Difference?” “Certainty means I know what she'll do.” Dalia smiled. “I don't.” Across the floor Mandi attempted something ridiculous. Celia laughed and caught her. Dalia's smile deepened. “Trust means I don't need to.” Marianne went quiet. Deja looked at Dalia. Warmly. Then Marianne asked: “Do you dance?” Dalia looked at her. “Yes.” “Would you?” Dalia smiled. “With you?” “If you'd like.” Dalia stood. “Yes.” Deja looked up. Dalia glanced at her. Deja smiled. “Go.” Dalia held out her hand to Marianne. Marianne took it. They joined the floor. Deja remained on the sofa. Alone for approximately four seconds. Bea dropped into the seat beside her. “Hi.” Deja looked at her. “You're everywhere.” “Yes.” “Why?” Bea smiled. “I'm social.” “That seems suspicious.” “Probably.” They watched. Mandi with Celia. Dalia with Marianne. Anna with Leona again. Nova, Vega and Helena arguing over food. Sera confusing a physicist. Deja leaned back. Bea did too. After a moment Deja said: “This is a really weird job.” Bea smiled. “Yes.” “I like it.” “Yes.” Deja looked at her. “You too?” Bea's smile changed. “Yes.” That answer contained more than the job. Deja understood. She bumped Bea's shoulder with hers. Bea bumped back. No further explanation required. The evening kept moving. And for once, nobody needed to know where it was going next. --- ## Chapter 18: Nobody Was Networking Anymore Nobody noticed when the evening reached its peak. There was no announcement. No change in lighting. No scheduled transition. No moment Reyes could have pointed to on the run sheet and said there. It simply happened. Twenty-one guests and eight hostesses had stopped behaving like two groups. That was the difference. The careful geography of arrival was gone. Existing clients no longer clustered with existing clients. New prospects no longer hovered near people they already knew. Nobody waited for an introduction. Somewhere along the way, the room had learned how to introduce itself. And now it was loud. Not nightclub loud. Happy loud. The kind created by too many simultaneous conversations and people laughing from different parts of the room. Mandi and Celia were still dancing. Dalia and Marianne were dancing too. Not near them. Not deliberately apart. Simply wherever the music had taken them. Deja and Bea had abandoned the sofa and joined Daniel, Rachel and Adrian at the bar. Anna and Leona were on the terrace with Martin. Nova had somehow become involved in an argument about restaurant reservations. Vega was contributing nothing useful. Sera— Reyes looked around. No Sera. She checked the terrace. No. Bar. No. Dance floor. No. Private-room indicators. Nothing new. Reyes frowned. Then looked up. Sera was sitting on the broad interior ledge beside one of the venue's decorative columns. Barefoot. Of course. Talking to the physicist. Reyes stared. The ledge was perhaps eighty centimeters above the floor. Not dangerous. Probably. Sera saw her looking. Reyes pointed downward. Sera tilted her head. Reyes pointed again. Sera looked down at the floor. Then at Reyes. The physicist looked too. Sera shook her head. Reyes closed her eyes. When she opened them, Sera was still there. Fine. --- Marianne discovered that Dalia was an excellent dancer. This annoyed her. “You've been holding out.” Dalia smiled. “We've danced for thirty seconds.” “Exactly.” Marianne followed her turn. Dalia caught her smoothly. “No fair.” “What?” “You know what you're doing.” “So do you.” “Not like that.” Dalia's low voice carried easily beneath the music. “You're doing fine.” Marianne looked at her. “That sounded dangerously sincere.” “It was.” “Hostess trick?” “No.” Marianne smiled. “Good.” Across the floor, Mandi caught Dalia's eye. Mandi was dancing much less elegantly. Celia had apparently decided precision was no longer required. Mandi approved. She pointed at Dalia. Then at Marianne. Then gave Dalia an exaggerated thumbs-up. Dalia stared at her. Marianne followed the exchange. “Was that approval?” “Unfortunately.” Mandi added a second thumbs-up. Dalia looked away. Marianne laughed. “I like her.” “So do I.” “Despite everything?” “Because of everything.” Mandi, still watching, blew her a kiss. Dalia caught it. Put it against her chest. Mandi nearly missed a step. Celia caught her. “Careful.” Mandi looked offended. “She cheated.” “Who?” Mandi pointed. “Dalia.” Celia looked across the floor. Dalia smiled. Celia looked back at Mandi. “I don't know what happened.” “Neither do I.” “Good.” They kept dancing. --- At the bar, Adrian was losing an argument. He knew this. Deja knew this. Bea knew this. Rachel had known it approximately five minutes before he did. “The problem,” Adrian said, “is that you're treating the premise as false.” “It is false,” Deja said. “No, it's hypothetical.” “A hypothetical can be stupid.” Bea nodded. “She's right.” Adrian pointed at Bea. “You weren't involved.” “I am now.” Rachel drank. “I warned you.” Daniel looked at Adrian. “I also warned you.” “You people are terrible.” Deja smiled. “You came back.” Adrian stopped. Looked at her. “Yes.” “Interesting.” Bea's eyebrows rose. Rachel's did too. Adrian noticed all three women noticing. “Oh, fuck off.” Deja laughed. He smiled despite himself. Bea leaned toward Rachel. “What was the premise?” Rachel whispered something. Bea stared at Adrian. “No.” Adrian threw up his hands. “You don't even know my argument.” “I know enough.” “What did she tell you?” Bea looked at Rachel. Rachel smiled. “Classified.” Adrian looked at Daniel. Daniel shook his head. “I'm not helping.” Deja leaned against the bar. “This is why you don't bring hypotheticals to a room full of women.” Adrian looked at her. “I'll remember that.” “Good.” A pause. Then: “Dance again?” Deja smiled. “Yes.” He held out his hand. She took it. Rachel watched them leave. Then looked at Bea. “He's not going to get her into a room, is he?” Bea looked at them. “Maybe.” “I thought she said no.” “She did.” Rachel frowned. Bea smiled. “That was then.” “So she might change her mind?” “Yes.” “Or not?” “Yes.” Rachel looked at Daniel. Daniel lifted his glass. “I've stopped trying to predict anything.” “Smart.” --- Nova had no idea how the restaurant conversation had happened. A woman named Claire had asked where she and Vega ate when they wanted somewhere quiet. That had somehow become five people arguing about whether a restaurant could still be called intimate if the table beside you could hear every word. Vega had opinions. Of course. “If I can hear the next table's breakup, I'm part of the relationship.” Claire laughed. Nova looked at her. “No.” “Yes.” “You are not.” “I have emotional investment.” “You have ears.” “Exactly.” Helena appeared with drinks. “What are we arguing about?” “Restaurants.” “Relationships,” Vega said. Nova looked at her. “Restaurants.” “Same thing.” Helena handed Vega a glass. Vega kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” Helena gave Nova hers. Nova smiled. “Thank you.” Claire watched the three of them. Then smiled. “You really are working partners.” Nova and Vega looked at each other. “Yes,” Nova said. “Unfortunately,” Vega said. Nova elbowed her. Vega laughed. Nothing in the gesture belonged to Brenda and Iris. Nothing needed to. The cover held because nobody was forcing it. Claire lifted her drink. “I have a sister.” Vega brightened. “Does she steal your food?” “Yes.” Nova sighed. “Don't encourage her.” For the next ten minutes, the conversation became entirely about close friends and siblings stealing things. No security. No contracts. No private rooms. No O'Sullivan SAS. And Claire laughed harder than Nova had seen her laugh all evening. --- Anna returned from the terrace without Leona. Mandi noticed immediately. She had finished dancing and was back beside Dalia. “Where's Leona?” Anna took a drink. “Talking to Martin.” Mandi waited. Anna looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're terrible at nothing.” “I was being respectful.” Dalia made a small sound. Mandi turned. “What?” “Nothing.” “You too?” Anna smiled. Mandi pointed between them. “Hostile environment.” Anna leaned against the bar. “You've said that six times.” “You counted?” “No.” “Then how do you know?” Anna paused. Dalia smiled. Mandi looked triumphant. “Exactly.” Anna drank. Then her gaze found Leona on the terrace. Martin was talking. Leona was laughing. Anna watched for a moment. Mandi followed her gaze. This time she said nothing. Anna noticed. Looked at her. Mandi smiled. Not teasing. Anna bumped her shoulder lightly. “Good girl.” Mandi's mouth fell open. Dalia laughed. Anna walked away. Mandi stared after her. “Did she just—” “Yes.” “I am older than her.” Dalia looked at her. “Are you?” Mandi stared. “That question was rude on several levels.” --- Sera eventually came down from the ledge. Not because Reyes had asked. The physicist wanted food. His name was Tomas. Reyes had learned this because he had finally remembered to introduce himself after almost two hours. Sera walked beside him. Barefoot. Tomas had one shoe. Reyes looked at his feet. Then at Sera. Sera looked innocent. Reyes pointed at Tomas's missing shoe. “Where?” Tomas looked down. “Oh.” Reyes stared. He looked at Sera. Sera looked toward the ledge. The shoe was sitting on it. Reyes closed her eyes. “Why?” Sera answered: “Experiment.” “What experiment?” Tomas smiled. “Actually, that was my idea.” Reyes opened her eyes. Sera smiled. Reyes looked between them. “Fine.” She walked away. Behind her Tomas asked: “Does she always look like that?” Sera answered: “Yes.” Reyes kept walking. --- The first guest left. That was when Reyes realized how late it had become. Not because the schedule said so. Because the man who had arrived with the posture of someone attending a corporate obligation now stood by the exit holding his coat and smiling like he'd spent the evening with friends. His name was Stephen. Existing client. He shook Reyes's hand. “Good night.” “Good night.” Then he looked back toward the room. “Tell Amber and Maeve I'm annoyed.” Reyes's eyebrow rose. “Why?” “For not being here.” A tiny pause. “I'll pass it along.” “And tell them this was excellent.” “I'll pass that along too.” He left. Reyes watched the door close. One departure. No urgency. No last-call energy. Good. --- The second guest to leave was Rachel. Bea walked her to the door. Rachel pointed at her. “Coffee.” Bea smiled. “Tomorrow.” “You promised.” “I agreed to a test.” “Same thing.” “No.” Rachel looked at Reyes. “Is she always like this?” Reyes considered. “Yes.” Bea looked betrayed. Rachel laughed. Then hugged Bea. Bea hugged her back. No hesitation. Rachel stepped away. “I had fun.” “So did I.” Rachel smiled. Then looked toward Daniel. He was still inside. Interesting. She said nothing. Neither did Bea. Rachel left. Bea watched the door close. Then returned to the room. No phone number exchanged in front of anyone. No private-room visit. No kiss. Nothing that could be measured. Yet Rachel had stayed for hours. Reyes suspected Iris would call that useful. Reyes called it a good evening. --- Mandi had somehow acquired Tomas's missing shoe. Nobody saw the transfer. One moment it was on the ledge. The next Mandi held it. Sera noticed. “Mine.” Mandi looked at the shoe. “No.” Tomas looked concerned. “It is technically mine.” Mandi pointed at Sera. “She stole mine earlier.” Sera nodded. “Yes.” “This is justice.” “No.” “Yes.” Dalia appeared. Looked at the shoe. Looked at Mandi. “Give it back.” Mandi clutched it to her chest. “No.” “Mandi.” “She started a shoe war.” Sera considered. “Yes.” Dalia looked at her. “You're not helping.” “I don't want to.” Tomas laughed. Mandi looked at him. “See? Victim solidarity.” “I think I'm the victim.” Mandi handed him the shoe. “Fine.” Tomas took it. “Thank you.” Sera looked disappointed. Mandi pointed at her. “This isn't over.” Sera smiled. “I know.” Mandi stared. “That was somehow worse.” Sera walked away. Tomas put his shoe on. Dalia looked at Mandi. Mandi looked up. “What?” Dalia kissed her. Mandi immediately forgot the shoe war. For approximately eight seconds. When Dalia drew back, Mandi smiled. “That was manipulative.” “Yes.” “Again?” Dalia kissed her again. Tomas quietly left. Wise man. --- Adrian and Deja finished another dance. He did not ask about the rooms. Deja noticed. They walked toward the terrace. He opened the door. She stepped through. Cooler air. Quieter. Adrian leaned against the railing. Deja stood beside him. For a while they watched Night City. Then Adrian said: “I think I figured something out.” “That sounds dangerous.” “You like me.” Deja smiled. “Yes.” “You don't want to sleep with me.” “Currently.” He looked at her. “Currently?” Deja laughed. “Don't ruin it.” “Right.” He smiled. She looked back at the city. After a moment he asked: “Can I kiss you?” Deja turned. Looked at him. Considered. “Yes.” He kissed her. Carefully. Deja's hand settled against his chest. The kiss lasted. Warm. Curious. When it ended, Adrian stayed close without trapping her there. Deja smiled. “That was good.” He exhaled. “Thank God.” She laughed. “You were nervous.” “Obviously.” “Why?” “You're terrifying.” Deja stared. Then laughed harder. Inside, through the glass, Dalia saw them. She smiled. Mandi followed her gaze. Saw Deja kissing Adrian. Looked at Dalia. Dalia's expression was warm. Mandi leaned against her. Neither said anything. They didn't need to. --- Daniel found Bea near the bar. “Rachel left.” “I noticed.” “She liked you.” “I liked her.” He smiled. “Coffee thing was flirting.” Bea looked at him. “Yes.” “I wasn't sure.” “You weren't involved.” “Fair.” A pause. Then Daniel asked: “Are you busy?” Bea looked around theatrically. “Yes.” He laughed. “I mean with someone.” “No.” “Dance?” Bea smiled. “Yes.” They joined the floor. No private room this time. They had already had one. Neither seemed interested in repeating it. Not now. Instead Daniel put a hand at Bea's waist. Bea rested hers against his shoulder. They danced. Talked. Laughed. At one point Daniel whispered something. Bea stopped moving. Stared at him. Then laughed so suddenly and loudly that several people looked over. Daniel looked proud. Reyes had no idea what he'd said. Good. Some things were allowed to remain outside security reporting. --- Claire left next. Nova walked her to the door. Vega came too. Claire hugged Nova. Then Vega. “Thank you.” Nova smiled. “For what?” “I don't know.” Vega nodded seriously. “Best kind.” Claire laughed. She looked at Nova. “I'll probably call your company next week.” Nova's expression did not change. “Then call next week.” Claire grinned. “I will.” Then she left. Vega watched the door. Looked at Nova. “Was that business?” “Not tonight.” “Good.” They turned back toward the room. Helena was waiting. Vega smiled. Nova saw it. “Oh, no.” “What?” “You're going back to her.” “Yes.” “You're abandoning me.” “You have food.” Nova considered. “Fair.” Vega kissed her forehead. Then returned to Helena. Nova went toward the food. The universe remained balanced. --- More shoes disappeared. Not stolen. Removed. The venue had been designed for elegance. It was now hosting a small rebellion against footwear. Anna kicked hers off beneath a table. Leona did the same. Bea noticed. Removed hers. Deja came back from the terrace, saw them, and immediately joined. Nova refused. Vega lasted twelve seconds. Dalia looked down at Mandi. Mandi was already barefoot. “When?” Mandi smiled. “Classified.” Dalia sighed. Sera walked past. Still barefoot. She looked at everyone. Vindicated. Reyes counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. She stopped. No. She was not tracking shoes. She deleted the note she had accidentally started. --- The room was smaller now. Not physically. Socially. Four guests had left. Then another. The remaining conversations stretched more comfortably through the space. Nobody rushed. Nobody announced departure. Nobody announced staying. The event had entered a second shape. Softer. Looser. Later. Reyes reduced one security position at the main entrance and shifted the person to the private-wing corridor. Not because activity there had increased. Because fewer people entering meant more attention could go inward. Routine. She checked the room indicators. Three occupied. No alerts. No calls. Good. She looked up. Mandi and Dalia were together near the edge of the dance floor. Not dancing. Talking. Celia stood with them. Marianne too. Deja and Adrian had returned from the terrace. Bea and Daniel danced. Anna and Leona sat close together. Nova was eating. Vega and Helena had disappeared into one of the quieter conversation areas. Sera and Tomas were arguing about whether electricity could be aesthetically dishonest. Normal. Reyes looked at the time. Later than she'd expected. Earlier than it felt. The evening was not winding down. It had simply stopped needing momentum. And that, Reyes realized, was probably the strongest sign that it had worked. Nobody was asking what happened next. They were too busy with what was happening now. --- ## Chapter 19: Second Wind The second wind began with food. Specifically, Vega discovering that the kitchen had produced another round of hot food. She stopped in the middle of a sentence. Helena followed her gaze. “Oh no.” Vega pointed. “Hot.” Nova looked. Then looked at Vega. “No running.” “I wasn't going to run.” “You moved.” “I adjusted my position.” “You leaned forward.” “Preparation.” Helena laughed. Vega looked at her. “You're encouraging her.” “I haven't said anything.” “Your face did.” Nova sighed. “Walk.” Vega walked. Quickly. “Vega.” “Walking.” “Slower.” “This is oppressive.” She reached the food first. Naturally. The discovery propagated through the room. Anna noticed Vega eating. Mandi noticed Anna noticing. Deja noticed Mandi moving. Sera apparently sensed food through mechanisms unknown to science. Within two minutes, the kitchen station had become the new social center of gravity. Reyes watched eight elegantly dressed women and a significant portion of the guest list converge on miniature hot sandwiches. She checked the event schedule. There was no entry for this. Good. She put the tablet away. --- Mandi took one bite. Stopped. Looked at Dalia. “Oh.” Dalia had already taken one. “Yes.” “Why didn't we have these earlier?” “We did.” Mandi stared. “What?” “You were busy.” “With what?” Dalia looked at her. Mandi thought back. “Oh.” Celia laughed. Mandi pointed at her. “Worth it.” “Good.” Marianne reached for another. Nova intercepted the same one. Their hands met. Both stopped. Marianne smiled. “You first.” Nova looked at the sandwich. Then at Marianne. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” Nova took it. Vega stared. Nova stared back. “What?” “You just accepted food.” “Yes.” “From a guest.” “Yes.” “Without interrogating it.” Nova slowly bit into the sandwich. Vega put a hand over her heart. “Growth.” Nova chewed. Swallowed. “I'm going to hurt you.” “See? She's back.” Helena kissed Vega's cheek. Nova shook her head. --- Adrian arrived beside Deja carrying two plates. He stopped. Looked at the plates. Looked at Deja. Then very deliberately said: “I brought food I think you might like. Would you like some?” Deja smiled. “Yes.” He handed her one. Mandi heard. She looked between them. “Oh, he's trainable.” Adrian looked at her. “Apparently.” Deja took a bite. “He learns quickly.” Dalia nodded. “Useful trait.” Adrian looked at Dalia. “Am I still being evaluated?” “No,” Dalia said. “Yes,” Mandi said. Deja laughed. Adrian looked at Bea. Bea had just arrived. “Help.” Bea considered. “No.” “Why?” “You're doing fine.” “That isn't help.” “It is emotionally.” Mandi nodded. “She is socially dangerous.” Bea looked at her. “You've been talking to Adrian.” “Yes.” “I'll remember that.” --- The food did something the alcohol had not. It reset the room. People who had been thinking about leaving stayed. People who had been sitting stood. People who had been dancing ate. People who had been talking to the same person for twenty minutes suddenly found themselves beside someone new. The evening rearranged itself again. Tomas found Anna. “You know Sera?” Anna looked across the room. Sera was eating something while staring at a light fixture. “Yes.” “How well?” Anna smiled. “Very.” Tomas lowered his voice. “Is she always like this?” Anna looked at him. “Yes.” He considered that. “Good.” Anna's eyebrows rose. “Good?” “Yes.” “I was expecting concern.” “No.” He looked toward Sera again. “I think she's wonderful.” Anna's smile softened. “She is.” Sera looked over. Saw them looking at her. Walked across the room. Stopped in front of Tomas. “What?” He smiled. “Nothing.” Sera looked at Anna. “What?” Anna smiled. “Nothing.” Sera looked suspicious. Tomas kissed her cheek. Sera blinked. Then smiled. Anna laughed. --- The private-room corridor remained active. Quietly. A door opened. Two guests returned. Another closed several minutes later. No pattern. No parade. No announcement. Reyes preferred it that way. She checked one occupied indicator. Room Four. Normal. Room Eight. Normal. Room Eleven had just become occupied. Normal. Then a guest approached her. A woman named Evelyn. Reyes recognized her from the list. New prospect. She looked uncomfortable. Not frightened. Uncertain. “Can I ask you something?” “Yes.” “If I go into one of those rooms…” Reyes waited. Evelyn glanced toward the corridor. “Can I change my mind after the door closes?” “Yes.” “Even if I asked to go there?” “Yes.” “Even if we've already started something?” “Yes.” Evelyn looked at her. Reyes kept her voice simple. “You can stop whenever you want. So can she. You don't owe anyone completion because you started.” Evelyn exhaled. “Okay.” “If you need help, there are two controls inside. Assistance and emergency. Assistance gets one of us outside the door. Emergency gets us inside.” “And nobody records anything.” “No cameras. No audio.” Evelyn nodded. “Thank you.” She started to leave. Then stopped. “I'm not sure I'm going.” “Then don't.” Evelyn smiled slightly. “That easy?” “Yes.” She nodded. Then walked back toward the lounge. Not the private corridor. Reyes watched her go. Good. --- Evelyn found Bea. They talked. That was all. Ten minutes. Then twenty. Eventually they moved to one of the quieter seating areas. Still talking. Daniel joined briefly. Left. Rachel's name came up. Bea laughed. Evelyn laughed. No private room. No kiss. No visible flirtation beyond warmth. Later Evelyn hugged Bea. Bea hugged her back. Then Evelyn went to the bar. That was all. It was enough. --- Mandi had found the terrace. Celia came with her. Dalia remained inside. Night City stretched below them. Celia leaned against the railing. “Can I ask a dangerous question?” Mandi smiled. “Everybody keeps saying that tonight.” “Maybe you're dangerous.” “Obviously.” Celia laughed. Then looked through the glass toward Dalia. “She really doesn't get jealous?” Mandi followed her gaze. Dalia was talking with Marianne and Deja. “No.” “Never?” Mandi considered. “That's a different question.” Celia waited. Mandi leaned against the railing. “She can feel things. So can I.” “But?” “But feelings aren't orders.” Celia looked at her. Mandi smiled. “We talk.” “That simple?” “No.” Celia laughed. “Better answer.” “It's simple after you've done the difficult parts.” Celia looked through the glass again. “And you trust her.” “Yes.” No hesitation. Celia looked back at Mandi. “And she trusts you.” Mandi smiled. “Yes.” Celia was quiet for a moment. Then: “I don't want a room.” Mandi looked at her. “Okay.” “I wanted to say that.” “Okay.” “I like this.” Mandi smiled. “Me too.” “I like kissing you.” “I noticed.” Celia laughed. “I like dancing with you.” “Also noticed.” “But I don't want more.” Mandi nodded. “Then we don't do more.” Celia studied her. “You really mean that.” “Yes.” Celia smiled. Then leaned in. “Can I still kiss you?” Mandi's smile widened. “Yes.” Celia kissed her. Mandi kissed her back. No escalation. No hidden expectation. When they separated, Celia stayed beside her at the railing. Mandi bumped her shoulder lightly against hers. Celia returned it. They looked at the city. That was enough too. --- Inside, Dalia saw them through the glass. Deja saw Dalia seeing them. “You okay?” Dalia looked at her. “Yes.” Deja smiled. “Good.” Dalia looked toward Adrian. He was talking with Martin now. “You?” “Yes.” “You like him.” “Yes.” Dalia smiled. Deja narrowed her eyes. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was not nothing.” “I didn't say anything.” “You have a face.” “So do you.” “Master.” Dalia laughed. Deja smiled. Then her expression softened. “I do like him.” “I know.” “I still don't want a room.” “I know.” “He hasn't asked again.” “I noticed.” Deja looked at her. “I like that too.” Dalia nodded. “Then enjoy it.” Deja leaned against her shoulder briefly. Not Deja and master. Kiro and Mai leaking through for one quiet second beneath everything else. Then Deja straightened. Dalia's hand touched the back of her neck. Brief. Warm. Gone. Nobody nearby noticed. --- Sera had finished eating. This created danger. Tomas discovered it first. “What are you doing?” Sera was looking toward the dance floor. “Thinking.” “About?” She looked at him. “Dancing.” He smiled. “Would you like to?” “Yes.” He held out his hand. Sera looked at it. Then took it. They went to the floor. Tomas danced conventionally. Sera did not. At first he tried to follow. Then stopped trying. That improved everything. Her silver-white hair lifted faintly with static as she moved. Not dramatically. Just enough that strands refused to behave. Her electric-blue eyes brightened whenever Tomas surprised her. He noticed. Did not comment. Smart. Mandi and Celia returned from the terrace. Mandi saw Sera. Stopped. “Oh, this I need to see.” Dalia appeared beside her. “No commentary.” “I wasn't going to—” Sera attempted something that was either a dance move or the beginning of an electrical accident. Mandi covered her mouth. Dalia looked at her. Mandi whispered: “I am being so good.” “Yes.” “Painfully.” “Yes.” Tomas laughed. Sera laughed. The static in her hair increased. Mandi's eyes widened. Dalia put one finger against Mandi's lips before anything escaped. Mandi looked up at her. Dalia smiled. Mandi kissed the finger. Dalia removed it. “Menace.” Mandi smiled. “Love you too.” The words escaped naturally. Quietly. Dalia's expression softened. “Love you.” Celia heard. She smiled. Said nothing. --- Anna had found Imani's limit. Not sexual. Shoes. She had put them back on. Then removed them again. Then put them back on because the floor near the terrace was cold. Then removed them because dancing in them was annoying. Leona watched the fourth change. “Commit.” Anna stared at her. “No.” “Shoes or no shoes.” “No.” “This is chaos.” “Yes.” Leona looked down at Anna's bare feet. “You're going to lose them.” “I know where they are.” “Where?” Anna pointed. The shoes were not there. Anna froze. Leona smiled. “Where?” Anna looked around. “Mandi.” Across the room Mandi shouted: “I DIDN'T DO IT!” Anna stared. “How did she hear me?” Leona laughed. Mandi pointed at Sera. Sera was still dancing. Anna looked at Sera. Then at the missing shoes. Then at Reyes. Reyes shook her head immediately. “No.” “I haven't asked.” “No.” Anna sighed. Leona kissed her cheek. “Barefoot it is.” --- The music changed. Slower. Not slow. Just enough. Couples formed without anyone announcing them. Some romantic. Some not. Nova danced with Claire's abandoned memory for exactly zero seconds because Claire had left. Instead Nova found Bea. “Dance?” Bea smiled. “Yes.” They joined. Vega danced with Helena. Anna with Leona. Mandi returned to Dalia. Deja looked at Adrian. He looked at her. Neither spoke. He held out his hand. She took it. Sera and Tomas kept going. For a brief moment all eight hostesses were visible in the same part of the room. Reyes noticed. Not because she was counting. Because the sight was ridiculous. Eight women who should not have made sense as a coherent group. Neon orange. Neon pink. Graphite brown. Ice blue. Chrome and gold. Chrome and brass-yellow. Silver-white. Platinum blonde. Different voices. Different heights. Different clothes. Different ways of occupying space. And somehow Lena had been right. They looked like they belonged together. Not identical. Not uniform. A collection. Reyes almost wished Amber and Maeve could see it. Then remembered exactly who was dancing near the center. She rubbed her forehead. Right. --- The song ended. Nobody dispersed immediately. Mandi remained against Dalia. Vega remained with Helena. Anna kissed Leona. Deja squeezed Adrian's hand before releasing it. Bea and Nova bowed to each other with absurd seriousness. Tomas looked at Sera. “Again?” Sera considered. “No.” He smiled. “Okay.” Sera kissed him. Not a polite kiss. Not a promise either. Just a kiss she wanted. When she drew back, Tomas looked slightly stunned. Sera smiled. Then walked away. Mandi stared. Tomas stared after her. Mandi walked over. “Hi.” Tomas looked down at her. “Hi.” “You okay?” “Yes.” “You look confused.” “Yes.” Mandi nodded. “That's normal.” Tomas laughed. “She is—” “Yes.” “I don't know what word I was going to use.” “Also normal.” Tomas looked at her. “Do you understand her?” Mandi looked toward Sera. Sera had found her shoes. Not Anna's. Her own. She was carrying them again. Mandi smiled. “Sometimes.” “That doesn't sound convincing.” “It shouldn't.” --- The second wind settled over the room completely. Nobody had become louder. Nobody had become drunker. Nobody had become more reckless. They had simply stopped conserving energy for later. Later had arrived. Food. Dancing. Kissing. Conversation. Some sex. Some refusals. Some maybes. Some yeses that meant only one dance. Some yeses that meant one kiss. Some that had closed doors behind them. And none of those answers outranked the others. Reyes looked around. Her comm remained quiet. Her security staff remained bored. The private-wing indicators remained uneventful. Perfect. She checked the time once. Then put the tablet face-down. There would eventually be a last guest. A final drink. A final shoe recovered from somewhere impossible. But not yet. The evening had found another hour. And nobody seemed interested in wasting it. --- ## Chapter 20: Last Call Without a Last Call Nobody called last call. That had been decided before the first guest arrived. No announcement. No sudden change in lighting. No bartender informing a room full of adults that civilization would end in fifteen minutes. The bar would simply become quieter. The kitchen would stop producing new food. People would leave when they wanted to leave. Reyes approved. Mostly because she had no desire to discover what Mandi would do with an announced last call. She suspected furniture would become involved. Possibly Sera. Better not to know. --- Martin was the next guest to leave. He found Anna near the terrace, sitting barefoot beside Leona with one leg tucked beneath her. Her shoes were missing. Again. Martin looked down. “Problem?” Anna followed his gaze. “No.” “Shoes?” “Temporary problem.” Leona laughed. Martin nodded. “I wanted to say good night.” Anna stood. Barefoot. “Already?” “I have a meeting at nine.” Anna winced. “That was poor planning.” “I know that now.” He smiled and offered his hand. Anna looked at it. Then hugged him instead. Martin froze for half a second before returning it. “Thank you,” he said. “For what?” “For not talking business.” Anna smiled. “That was the idea.” Martin laughed. “It worked.” He stepped away and looked at Leona. “Good luck with the shoes.” Leona nodded solemnly. “Thank you.” Martin left. Anna watched him go. Leona looked at her. “You liked him.” “Yes.” “Would you have gone to a room with him?” Anna considered. “No.” Leona nodded. Nothing changed between them. Anna smiled. “You?” “With Martin?” “Yes.” Leona considered too. “No.” “Good.” One eyebrow rose. Anna laughed. “Not because I would mind.” “Ah.” “I was curious.” “Dangerous woman.” “Apparently.” Leona kissed her. --- Adrian stayed. That had become noticeable only because several others had left. He and Deja sat together now. His knee occasionally touched hers. Neither moved it. They had danced. Talked. Kissed. He had asked once about a room. She had said no. And somehow that had made the rest of the evening easier instead of harder. Adrian looked around. “This is strange.” Deja smiled. “What?” “I came here expecting a corporate event.” “It is a corporate event.” He looked toward the dance floor. Mandi was attempting to steal something from Sera. Sera was resisting by holding it above her head. Mandi was considerably shorter. The strategy was effective. Adrian looked back at Deja. “No.” Deja laughed. “Fair.” “What is she trying to steal?” Deja watched. “A shoe.” “Whose?” “I don't know.” “Why?” “I don't know.” Adrian considered. “Should we help?” “No.” “Good.” They remained exactly where they were. --- The shoe belonged to Anna. One of them, anyway. Mandi finally succeeded by climbing onto the edge of a sofa. Dalia arrived at precisely the wrong moment. Or the right one. “Mandi.” Mandi froze. One hand held Anna's shoe. The other was on Sera's shoulder for balance. Sera looked delighted. Dalia looked at the sofa. Then Mandi. “Down.” “I almost have it.” “You already have it.” Mandi looked at the shoe. “Oh.” Sera released her. Mandi nearly lost balance. Dalia caught her around the waist. Mandi laughed. “See? Teamwork.” “That was not teamwork.” “It worked.” Dalia set her on the floor. Mandi held up the shoe. “Recovered.” Sera looked at it. “Stolen.” “You stole it first.” Sera shook her head. “No.” “Then why did you have it?” Sera thought. “Found.” Mandi stared. “Where?” Sera pointed vaguely toward the lounge. “That is not an answer.” “Yes.” Dalia took the shoe from Mandi. “Find Anna.” Mandi smiled. “Mission.” “No mission.” “Objective.” “No.” “Task.” Dalia looked at her. Mandi sighed. “Fine. I'll give Anna her shoe.” “Thank you.” Mandi took it back. Then looked at Sera. “This isn't over.” Sera smiled. “Of course not.” Mandi made a strangled noise. Dalia physically redirected her toward Anna. --- Marianne prepared to leave shortly afterward. Dalia walked with her to the exit. Marianne put on her coat. Then looked at Dalia. “I meant what I said earlier.” “Which part?” “The envy.” Dalia nodded. Marianne smiled. “But I think I understand it better now.” “Good.” A pause. Then Marianne opened her arms slightly. “Hug?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” They hugged. Warmly. Simply. When Marianne stepped away, she said: “Tell Maeve she owes me a drink.” Dalia's expression remained flawless. “I'll tell her.” “And tell Amber she has questionable taste in employees.” Dalia nearly laughed. “Which one?” Marianne looked toward Mandi. Mandi was walking toward Anna with one shoe held triumphantly above her head. “Guess.” Dalia smiled. “I'll pass it along.” Marianne laughed. “Good night.” “Good night.” She left. Dalia watched the door close. Then turned. Mandi was now arguing with Anna. Naturally. --- “This is one shoe.” “Yes.” “I have two feet.” “I noticed.” Anna stared. Mandi held out the shoe. “Progress.” “Where is the other one?” “I don't know.” “You found one.” “Yes.” “And stopped looking.” “I brought you the successful result.” Leona was laughing beside them. Anna looked at her. “You're not helping.” “I can't.” Anna looked back at Mandi. “Where did you find it?” “Sera.” Both looked toward Sera. Sera was sitting in a chair. Barefoot. Her own shoes beside her. She saw them looking. Raised one hand. Anna sighed. “Of course.” Mandi gave her the shoe. Anna took it. “Thank you.” Mandi smiled. “You're welcome.” Then Sera stood. Walked toward them. Carrying Anna's second shoe. Anna stared. Mandi stared. Sera handed it to Anna. “Found.” Anna accepted it. “Where?” Sera smiled. Mandi pointed. “See? SEE?” Sera walked away. Mandi started after her. Dalia caught her. “No.” “But—” “No.” “She can't keep doing this.” “She can.” “Why?” Dalia smiled. “Because you keep reacting.” Mandi stopped. Thought. “That is deeply unfair.” “Yes.” --- Daniel found Bea near the bar. “Rachel left.” “I noticed.” “She liked you.” “I liked her.” He smiled. “The coffee argument was flirting.” Bea looked at him. “Yes.” “I wasn't sure.” “You weren't involved.” “Fair.” They stood together for a moment. Then Daniel asked: “Can I see you again?” Bea looked at him. “Yes.” His expression brightened. She raised one finger. “Not tonight.” “I gathered.” “And don't call O'Sullivan SAS asking for Bea.” Daniel laughed. “I wasn't going to.” “Good.” “So how do I—” “Give me your number.” He handed her his phone. Bea entered hers. No surname. Just Bea. She handed it back. Daniel looked at the screen. “That's all?” “Yes.” “And now?” “I decide whether I use yours.” He smiled. “Fair.” Bea kissed his cheek. “Good night, Daniel.” “Good night, Bea.” He left. Bea watched the door close. Then turned. Reyes was nearby. Bea smiled. Reyes immediately said: “No.” “I haven't done anything.” “You're about to.” “I was going to ask if you wanted water.” Reyes paused. Bea held out a bottle. Reyes took it. “Thank you.” Bea smiled. “See? Growth.” “Go away.” Bea laughed and did. --- Evelyn left without ever entering a private room. She found Reyes first. “Thank you.” Reyes nodded. “You're welcome.” “I nearly left earlier.” “I know.” Evelyn smiled. “Of course you do.” She glanced toward Bea. “She helped.” Reyes followed her gaze. Bea was talking with two remaining guests. “She tends to.” Evelyn nodded. Then hesitated. “I'll probably contact O'Sullivan next week.” Reyes looked at her. “Then contact them next week.” Evelyn laughed. “That sounded very security.” Reyes's mouth twitched. “It was.” Evelyn left. Nothing sexual had happened between her and anyone all evening. She had still stayed for hours. Still laughed. Still made connections. Still intended to call. Reyes suspected Iris would eventually have several spreadsheets proving why that mattered. Tonight it was enough that Evelyn had enjoyed herself. --- Tomas found Sera near the terrace. Both of his shoes were now present. This felt like progress. He looked at her. “When will you be at Jig-Jig?” Across the room, Mandi's head turned. Dalia saw it happen. Immediately put one arm around her waist. Mandi looked up. “I haven't done anything.” “Yet.” Tomas waited. Sera smiled. That was all. He laughed. “No schedule?” “No.” “How am I supposed to find you?” “Go there.” “And hope?” Sera thought about it. “Yes.” Tomas smiled. “That's insane.” “Yes.” “Okay.” He seemed entirely satisfied with this answer. Then: “Can I kiss you goodbye?” “Yes.” He kissed her. Sera kissed him back. Unhurried. When they separated, Tomas looked happy. “Good night, Sera.” “Good night.” He left. The door closed. Mandi turned immediately. “That cannot actually be your system.” Sera looked at her. “Yes.” “No appointments?” “No.” “No schedule?” “No.” “No contact number?” Sera considered. “No.” “You just appear on Jig-Jig sometimes.” “Yes.” “And if someone wants you, they physically have to go there and see whether you happen to be standing around?” “Yes.” Mandi stared. “That is the worst booking system ever invented.” Sera smiled. “It works.” Mandi opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Dalia rested her chin briefly against the top of Mandi's head. “She has you there.” Mandi looked up. “No. I refuse.” Sera walked away. Mandi pointed after her. “I'm going to fix this.” Dalia tightened her arm. “No.” “But—” “Absolutely not.” Mandi sighed. “Fine.” A beat. “Maybe a little.” “No.” --- Adrian eventually stood. Deja looked up. “You're leaving.” “I should.” “Okay.” He remained standing there. Deja smiled. “What?” “Can I kiss you goodbye?” “Yes.” He did. This kiss was easier than the first. Still warm. Still careful. Deja's hand rested lightly against his chest. When they separated, Adrian smiled. “Still no room.” Deja laughed. “Still no room.” “I had a very good night.” “So did I.” He hesitated. “Can I have your number?” Deja held out her hand. “Phone.” He gave it to her. She entered a contact. Just Deja. Handed it back. He looked at the screen. “No surname?” “No.” “Right.” He smiled. “Will you answer?” “If I want to.” “Fair.” Deja touched his arm. “Good night, Adrian.” “Good night.” He walked toward the exit. Dalia happened to be nearby. Adrian stopped. “Good night.” “Good night.” A tiny pause. Then Adrian smiled. “I like her.” Dalia looked toward Deja. “So do I.” He laughed. Then left. Deja joined Dalia a moment later. Dalia looked at her. Deja looked back. “What?” “Nothing.” “Face.” Dalia smiled. “He listens.” Deja smiled too. “Yes.” “Useful trait.” “Very.” Mandi appeared between them. “Are we evaluating him again?” “No,” both women said. Mandi smiled. “Good.” A beat. “What score did he get?” Deja pushed her away. --- Helena remained. She sat between Nova and Vega in one of the quieter areas. Not literally between them. Vega was beside her. Nova opposite. All three had reached the stage where silence was comfortable. Helena looked at Nova. “Thank you.” Nova smiled. “For what?” “For earlier.” Nova understood. “You're welcome.” “I was nervous.” “I know.” Helena looked at Vega. “Did you know?” Vega nodded. “You didn't say anything.” “You didn't need me to.” Helena smiled. Nova watched them. There was no need to add anything. Eventually Helena looked at Vega. “I should probably go.” Vega nodded. “Okay.” Helena did not move. Vega smiled. “Not yet?” “Not yet.” “Okay.” Nova leaned back. Apparently they had a few more minutes. --- Leona stayed too. Anna now had both shoes. She was wearing neither. They sat together near the terrace. Leona looked around. “I think I'm becoming one of the last guests.” Anna followed her gaze. “You are.” “Do I get a prize?” “No.” “Terrible service.” Anna laughed. Leona smiled. Then sighed. “I really should go.” “Okay.” Neither moved. Leona laughed softly. “That was convincing.” Anna smiled. “You don't have to.” “I know.” “But?” “Tomorrow exists.” “Rude.” “Extremely.” Anna kissed her. Slowly. Leona's hand rested at her waist. Anna kept her close. When the kiss ended, she said: “Phone.” Leona smiled. “I was wondering when you'd ask.” She handed it over. Anna entered a number. Just Anna. Leona looked at it. “That's all?” “Yes.” “No surname?” “No.” Leona smiled. “Will you answer?” Anna handed the phone back. “If I want to.” “Fair.” Anna kissed her once more. “Good night.” “Good night, Anna.” Leona left. Anna watched until the door closed. Then turned. Mandi was watching her. Anna raised one finger. Mandi immediately looked elsewhere. Anna smiled. That was almost disappointing. --- Helena finally stood. Vega stood with her. Nova did too. They walked her to the exit. Helena hugged Nova first. Nova returned it warmly. “Good night.” “Good night.” Then Helena turned to Vega. She touched her cheek. “Can I?” Vega smiled. “Yes.” They kissed. Not like Room Seven. Not trying to become anything else. A goodbye kiss. When they separated, Helena rested her forehead briefly against Vega's. “I'll call.” Vega smiled. “If you want.” “I want.” “Then call.” Helena smiled. Then left. The door closed. Vega remained looking at it. Nova stood beside her. Silent. Vega finally looked over. Nova smiled. “What?” “Nothing.” “Face.” Nova's smile widened. Vega narrowed her black-void eyes. “Don't.” “I haven't said anything.” “You're about to.” Nova slipped one arm around her shoulders. Vega leaned against her. They returned to the room together. --- The room was visibly emptier now. Furniture had reappeared. So had the floor. The staff quietly cleared glasses. The music softened by degrees. Reyes counted the remaining guests once. Four. No need for an announcement. No need to hurry them. The private wing was empty. All rooms clear. No assistance calls. No emergency calls. No incidents. That alone would have made the night successful. She looked toward the hostesses. Sera was curled into a chair, shoes beside her. Bea had discovered coffee. Deja had removed her shoes at some point. Nova still wore hers. Vega did not. Anna's were under her chair. Mandi— Reyes stopped. Mandi had coffee. Dalia had not noticed yet. Reyes looked away. Not security. --- Bea took a sip. Stopped. Looked at the cup. Reyes noticed. “Problem?” “Automated.” “Yes.” Bea looked offended. Reyes took another cup from the station. Drank. Bea stared. “You like it.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Coffee.” “That isn't an answer.” “It is at this hour.” Bea looked at the machine. Then at Reyes. “Rachel would be unbearable.” “She isn't here.” “Coward.” Reyes almost smiled. Bea caught it. Reyes immediately drank. Bea wisely said nothing. --- Mandi took another sip. Dalia turned. Saw the cup. Stopped. Mandi froze. The cup remained halfway to her mouth. Dalia looked at it. Then at Mandi. “No.” Mandi slowly lowered it. “I already have it.” “That wasn't the problem.” “Waste is unethical.” Dalia held out her hand. Mandi stared at it. “My coffee.” “Your sleep.” “Future Mandi's problem.” “Future Mandi shares a bed with me.” Mandi considered. “Strong argument.” She took one final enormous sip. Then handed over the cup. Dalia stared. Mandi swallowed. “What?” “You are impossible.” Mandi smiled. “You like me.” “Yes.” “Excellent.” Dalia put the coffee somewhere Mandi could not reach without making the attempt embarrassingly obvious. Mandi watched it go. Then looked at Sera. Sera had not opened her eyes. “No,” Sera said. Mandi stared. “I didn't ask.” “No.” “You don't even know what I was going to say.” “Coffee.” Mandi looked offended. “Everybody is against me.” Vega lifted one hand. “Solidarity.” Nova looked at her. “No.” Vega lowered it. “Sorry.” --- The remaining guests showed no urgency. Neither did anyone else. One quiet conversation occupied the terrace. Another continued beside the bar. Nobody was trying to manufacture one final memorable moment. Nobody needed to. The memorable part had already happened. Hours of it. Reyes looked around the room. At the abandoned shoes. At the empty private-room indicators. At Mandi trying to calculate whether she could reach her confiscated coffee without Dalia noticing. At Sera apparently sleeping but almost certainly not. At Anna barefoot again. At Bea judging the coffee machine. At Deja leaning against Dalia's shoulder. At Nova and Vega sharing the last plate of food without fighting for once. Then Vega stole something from Nova's side. Nova slapped her hand. There it was. Reyes checked the time. Late. She put the tablet face-down. Eventually one of the four remaining guests would stand. Then another. The room would empty. The staff would clean. Security would close the venue. Eight women would somehow have to locate all of their belongings. That last part might be the most difficult operation of the night. But there was no reason to begin it yet. No last call. No countdown. No push toward the door. The evening had spent hours allowing every yes, no and maybe to mean exactly what it meant. It could extend the same courtesy to goodbye. So Reyes sat down. For the first time all night. Bea noticed. “Wow.” Reyes looked at her. “Don't.” Bea smiled into her coffee. Reyes leaned back. The music continued. Four guests remained. Nobody hurried them. Not yet. --- ## Chapter 21: Eight Women, Several Shoes Missing The fourth-to-last guest left twenty minutes later. Then the third. Neither departure changed the room very much. The second-to-last guest was Celia. She had stayed long enough that Mandi had stopped treating her as someone who might leave soon. Which made the moment surprisingly quiet. Celia found Mandi beside the bar. Dalia was nearby, talking with Bea. Celia smiled. “I should go.” Mandi looked at her. “Okay.” No protest. No attempt to stretch the evening. Celia seemed to appreciate that. “I had a really good time.” “So did I.” A pause. Then Celia smiled. “One more?” Mandi knew what she meant. “Yes.” Celia leaned down. Mandi met her halfway. The kiss was warm and familiar now. No question about where it would lead. Nowhere. That had already been decided. When they separated, Celia touched Mandi's cheek. “I liked this.” Mandi smiled. “So did I.” “The dancing too.” “You're terrible.” “You nearly fell twice.” “Dalia cheated once.” Celia laughed. “That still doesn't make sense.” “It doesn't have to.” Celia glanced toward Dalia. Dalia had noticed them. Of course. Celia walked over. “Good night.” Dalia smiled. “Good night.” Then Celia surprised her. “Can I hug you?” Dalia's smile warmed. “Yes.” Celia hugged her. Dalia returned it. When Celia stepped back, she looked between them. “You two are ridiculous.” Mandi nodded. “Yes.” Dalia said: “She is.” Mandi gasped. Celia laughed. Then she looked at Mandi. “Maybe I'll see you again.” “Maybe.” No promise. No booking. No business card. Celia smiled. “Good answer.” She left. Mandi watched the door close. Dalia came beside her. Mandi leaned against her. “You liked her.” “Yes.” “You?” “Yes.” Dalia kissed the top of her head. “Good.” That was all. --- The last guest was named Robert. Nobody had slept with Robert. Nobody had kissed Robert. Robert had danced exactly once, with Bea. He had spent most of the evening talking. To almost everyone. He had argued architecture with Sera. Talked travel with Dalia. Asked Nova about a restaurant. Listened to Mandi tell an obviously embellished story about a hotel elevator. Discussed orbital logistics with Anna. Spent fifteen minutes with Deja talking about music. And somehow ended the evening sitting beside Vega, discussing motorcycles. When he finally looked at the time, his eyes widened. “Oh.” Vega looked at him. “What?” “I was supposed to leave an hour ago.” Nova smiled. “Then you're very bad at leaving.” “Apparently.” He stood. Looked around the room. Only then seemed to realize he was last. “Fuck.” Reyes smiled. Barely. “You're fine.” “Was everyone waiting for me?” “No.” Robert looked suspicious. Reyes gestured toward the room. Mandi was half in Dalia's lap. Sera was curled in a chair. Anna was barefoot. Bea had coffee. Deja was also barefoot. Nova and Vega were still sitting exactly where Robert had left them. Nobody looked impatient. Robert relaxed. “Okay.” He put on his jacket. Then looked at Vega. “Thank you.” “For motorcycles?” “For the evening.” Vega smiled. “You're welcome.” He looked at Nova. “You too.” Nova nodded. “Good night.” Then at the rest of the room. “Good night, everyone.” A scattered chorus answered. Robert reached the door. Stopped. Turned. “I'll tell Amber and Maeve they missed a hell of a party.” Mandi buried her face against Dalia. Dalia's hand immediately covered the back of her head. Reyes looked away. Bea suddenly became fascinated by her coffee. Deja bit her lip. Anna stared at the ceiling. Nova and Vega had no idea why half the room had become strange. Sera simply said: “Yes.” Robert smiled. Then left. The door closed. Silence. Three seconds. Mandi exploded. She folded against Dalia, laughing. Dalia lasted perhaps one second longer. Deja lost it next. Anna followed. Bea nearly spilled her coffee. Reyes covered her face. Nova looked around. “What?” Vega looked between them. “What the fuck?” Mandi tried to speak. Failed. Dalia held her upright. Finally Anna managed: “Amber and Maeve missed a hell of a party.” That destroyed them again. Nova stared. Then understanding arrived. “Oh.” Vega's black-void eyes widened. “Oh, fuck you.” Mandi was crying now. “I'm sorry.” “No, you're not.” “No.” Reyes lowered her hands. “Are we done?” Mandi gasped for breath. “Apparently Amber and Maeve are.” Reyes pointed at her. “Do not.” Mandi laughed harder. --- The venue door locked. That changed something. Not emotionally. Operationally. Reyes checked the lock. Venue security confirmed external status. No guests remained. Private wing clear. Staff remained in service areas. Their own external team held position. Event over. Reyes looked at the eight women. “All right.” Nobody listened. She raised her voice. “Ladies.” Eight heads turned. Mostly. Sera opened one eye. “Guests are gone.” Mandi looked around. “Oh.” Reyes stared. “You hadn't noticed?” “I was busy.” “With what?” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Reyes sighed. “Fine. We do one sweep, collect everything, check the rooms, clear the prep suite, then we leave.” Vega raised one hand. “Food?” “The staff will pack whatever is ours.” Vega lowered it. “Excellent.” Nova looked at her. “You've eaten all night.” “Yes.” “And?” Vega stared. Nova sighed. “Right.” --- Reyes began with the obvious problem. “Shoes.” Seven women looked down. Nova did not. Because Nova was still wearing hers. She looked around. Then smiled. “Amateurs.” Vega stared at her. “You're a traitor.” “I have both shoes.” “I know where mine are.” “Where?” Vega pointed toward the sofa. Nothing was there. Vega stopped. Nova smiled. “Where?” “They were there.” “Were.” “Shut up.” Mandi looked down. Barefoot. She frowned. “When did that happen?” Dalia looked at her. “You removed them before the second food service.” “You remember?” “Yes.” “Where did I put them?” Dalia pointed. Mandi looked. Her shoes were neatly beside the chair where Dalia had been sitting. Mandi smiled. “I love you.” “I know.” Deja looked down. Also barefoot. Then toward the dance floor. “Mine are over there.” Bea looked. “How do you know?” “I remember kicking one at Adrian.” There was silence. Dalia looked at her. “You kicked a shoe at him?” “Accidentally.” Mandi smiled. “Romantic.” “It missed.” “Less romantic.” Anna had both shoes under her chair. She retrieved them. Bea was wearing hers. Nova was wearing hers. Sera's shoes were beside her. That left Vega. Everyone looked at her. Vega stared back. “What?” Nova smiled. “Find your shoes.” “This is targeted harassment.” --- They searched. Not seriously at first. Vega checked beneath the sofa. Nothing. Behind the chairs. Nothing. Under a table. One napkin. A dropped earring that belonged to nobody present. Reyes took it for lost property. Mandi joined the hunt. This made things worse. “Vega.” “What?” “I found one.” Vega turned. Mandi held up a shoe. Vega stared. “That isn't mine.” Mandi looked at it. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” Anna looked. “That's Leona's.” Everyone paused. Anna stared at the shoe. “Oh.” Mandi smiled. “Interesting.” Anna pointed at her. “No.” “I said nothing.” “Your face did.” Mandi handed her the shoe. Anna stared. “She left with shoes.” Bea looked at the shoe. “Apparently not both.” Anna laughed. “Oh, shit.” Reyes took it. “Lost property.” Anna looked at her. “I have her number.” Reyes handed it back. “Your problem.” Mandi smiled. Anna pointed again. “No.” Mandi lifted both hands. “I am behaving.” Dalia laughed quietly. --- Vega's first shoe was found in the quiet seating area. Helena's fault was suspected. No evidence existed. Vega put it on. “One.” Nova looked at her. “Excellent progress.” “Don't start.” The second was nowhere. Reyes checked the private corridor. Nothing. Vega checked Room Seven. She stopped in the doorway. Nova came behind her. “What?” Vega pointed. The shoe was beside the bed. Nova stared. Then looked at Vega. Vega smiled. “Oh.” Nova closed her eyes. Helena had apparently removed it at some point. Or Vega had. Details were unavailable. Nova opened her eyes. “Get your shoe.” Vega picked it up. Then paused. The room was quiet now. Completely different from earlier. Bed restored. Glasses removed. Nothing visible remained except that one shoe. Vega looked at Nova. Nova understood. Neither joked. Vega smiled. Small. “Good night.” Nova smiled back. “Yes.” Vega put the shoe on. They left Room Seven together. --- Room Five was empty. Sera stood in the doorway. Reyes checked the room. “All clear.” Sera did not move. Mandi appeared behind her. “Lose something?” “No.” “Secret note?” Sera looked at her. Mandi smiled. “Worth trying.” Sera walked into the room. Looked around. Then picked up something from the bedside table. A small folded paper. Mandi's eyebrows rose. “What is that?” Sera opened it. Read. Smiled. Folded it again. Put it into her gown. Mandi stared. “Sabine?” “Yes.” “What does it say?” “No.” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia shook her head. Mandi sighed. “I hate privacy.” Reyes looked at her. “No, you don't.” Mandi thought. “Fair.” Sera left Room Five. Still smiling. Nobody asked again. Even Mandi. Almost miraculous. --- Room Nine was next. Anna entered with Reyes. The room had already been serviced lightly. Nothing personal remained. Anna looked around anyway. The bed. The place where Leona's dress had briefly fought back. The absurdly expensive gown release. The laughter. The stillness afterward. She smiled. Reyes noticed. Said nothing. Anna looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” Anna narrowed her eyes. “Face.” Reyes stared. Anna laughed. “Okay. Fair.” They left. --- Room Three. Bea entered. Paused. Daniel. Her first closed door of the evening. Reyes checked systems. Nothing left. Bea touched the edge of the bed once. Not sentimentally. Just remembering. Then smiled. “Clear.” They left. --- The rest of the rooms were uneventful. Which Reyes considered a gift. No clothing. No jewelry. No abandoned phones. No mysterious bodily injury. No one asleep in a bathtub. She had worked security long enough to appreciate how high the bar for successful cleanup could become. They returned to the main room. The staff had packed the remaining food. Vega immediately acquired one container. Nova looked at her. “Don't.” “I haven't done anything.” “You're holding it.” “Yes.” “That's for everyone.” “I am everyone.” “No.” Vega hugged the container. Nova sighed. Helpless. --- Then Lena's dresses became the subject. Because Mandi finally looked down. Her gown was pristine. She ran both hands over it. Nothing. No crease. No damage. No evidence of dancing, sofas, food, repeated sitting, one attempted shoe theft, and whatever else she had done. She looked at Dalia. “Holy shit.” Dalia inspected hers. Equally perfect. Deja looked at her own. Bea did too. Anna turned slowly. Sera pulled experimentally at one section of fabric. Nova checked Vega. Vega checked Nova. All eight gowns looked ready for another event. Mandi took out her phone. Iris saw it. “No.” Mandi looked at her. Not Nova. Iris. The guests were gone. The evening was over. And something about that felt good. “What?” “Do not message Lena at this hour.” Mandi checked the time. “She's awake.” “You don't know that.” “I know Lena.” Mai came beside Ace. The whiskey-and-smoke voice remained Dalia's. It would for days. But there was no reason to pretend among themselves. “She's probably awake.” Iris looked at her. “Do not encourage her.” Brenda wrapped an arm around Iris. “I want to tell her the dresses survived.” Iris looked around. Eight perfect gowns. Her resistance weakened. Ace smiled. “Group photo.” Iris stared. “No.” Shammy sat upright. “Yes.” Imani smiled. “Definitely.” Kiro laughed. Elisa was already moving. “Where?” Reyes sighed. “The wall near the terrace has the best light.” Everyone looked at her. Reyes froze. Ace slowly smiled. “You've thought about this.” “Security cameras.” “Sure.” “Fuck off.” --- They assembled. Not formally. That would have ruined it. Eight women. Some wearing shoes. Some not. Vega holding food. Sera holding her shoes. Mandi tucked against Dalia. Deja leaning into Dalia's other side. Bea beside Anna. Nova and Vega together. Sera somehow ending up slightly forward despite being tallest. Reyes looked through the phone. “No.” Ace frowned. “What?” “You look arranged.” “We are arranged.” “Exactly.” She lowered the phone. “Move.” “Where?” “I don't care.” They moved. Immediately became themselves. Brenda tried to steal food from the container she was holding. Iris stopped her. Kiro laughed. Shammy turned toward Imani. Elisa put an arm around Imani's waist. Ace looked up at Mai. Mai looked down at her. Reyes took the picture. Nobody was ready. Perfect. She looked at it. Eight expensive gowns. Eight impossible women. Half the shoes missing from feet. Everybody laughing. “That's the one.” Ace hurried over. “Show me.” Reyes showed her. Ace's expression softened. “Oh.” Mai came behind her. Looked. Shammy joined. Then everyone crowded around the phone. Brenda smiled. “Send that to Lena.” Iris looked at the picture. Then at the dresses. Then sighed. “Fine.” Ace grinned. She sent it. One line. **Your dresses survived us.** Three dots appeared almost immediately. Iris stared. Ace smiled. “Told you.” Lena replied. **I KNOW HOW TO BUILD A FUCKING DRESS.** Ace laughed. Another message. **WHY IS SERA BAREFOOT** Everyone looked at Sera. Sera looked down. Then at them. “Comfort.” Ace typed. **Art.** Lena's reply arrived. **THAT IS NOT AN ANSWER** Shammy smiled. “It is.” --- They changed in the prep suite. Slowly. Nobody was in a hurry now. Gowns released. Jewelry removed. Contacts came out where appropriate. ChromeLock remained. Face meshes remained for the moment; those belonged to a more careful removal process. The six altered voices remained too. Nothing could be done about that. Nor needed to be. They were simply going home sounding unusual. Ace folded her gown. The fabric settled itself. She stared. “I want everything made from this.” Iris looked at her. “No.” “Sheets.” “No.” “Shorts.” Iris paused. Ace saw it. “HA.” “No.” “You thought about it.” “I thought about the cost.” “That's thinking about it.” Mai laughed. Brenda looked at Iris. “Underwear?” Iris stared at her. Brenda smiled. “Just asking.” Kiro sat on the counter removing one shoe. Then stopped. Looked at her feet. “Wait.” Everyone looked. She had one shoe. Silence. Kiro stared. “I had both.” Ace slowly smiled. “No.” Kiro pointed. “Do not.” Sera looked interested. Kiro pointed at her too. “Especially you.” Reyes closed her eyes. Of course. --- The missing shoe was eventually found beneath the bar. Nobody knew why. Kiro claimed innocence. Sera claimed nothing. Ace claimed Sera. Mai claimed the entire conversation was stupid. Reyes recorded no official explanation. By the time they were finally ready to leave, every person had the correct number of shoes. This felt like the night's final operational success. The venue staff had the room. Security had the building. The food was packed. No guest property remained except Leona's shoe, now safely with Imani. No alarms. No damage. No incidents. Reyes stood at the exit. Counted. Eight women. Plus herself. Everyone present. She opened the door. Cool night air reached them. Ace stepped through first. Then stopped. Turned. Looked back at the venue. For the first time since the guests had arrived, it was quiet. Really quiet. Mai came beside her. “Well?” Ace smiled. “Fun.” Mai looked at her. “That's your analysis?” “Yes.” Iris came behind them. “Mine will have numbers.” Ace groaned. “Of course it will.” “Tomorrow.” Ace looked at her. Iris's mouth twitched. Ace pointed. “No.” Iris smiled. “Tomorrow has phones.” Brenda laughed. Kiro groaned. Elisa covered her face. Imani leaned against Shammy. Reyes locked the door behind them. Shammy smiled. Sera's silver-white hair lifted faintly in the night air. Their laughter followed them away from the venue. --- ## Chapter 22: Morning Accounting Ace woke because somebody in the kitchen was laughing in the wrong voice. She opened one eye. Mai was still beside her. Pink dreadlocks across the pillow. Mai's face. Dalia's voice had apparently been awake before the rest of her, because a sleepy murmur came from beside Ace. “Ignore them.” Ace stared. Mai opened one eye. “What?” “You sound wrong.” Mai looked at her. “So do you.” Ace considered answering. Then remembered. Mandi. Right. “Fuck.” Mai smiled and closed her eye again. On Ace's other side, Shammy moved beneath the blanket. “What time?” “I don't know.” “No.” Ace smiled. “That's not a time.” “It is today.” Fair. From the kitchen came another burst of laughter. This one was unmistakably Anna. Except it was Imani laughing. Ace buried her face in the pillow. “This is going to be weird.” Mai's arm slid around her. “It already is.” “Coffee.” “Eventually.” “Now.” “No.” Ace lifted her head. “Cruel.” Mai pulled her back down. Ace lasted perhaps ten seconds. Then escaped. --- The safehouse kitchen looked like a cover identity had exploded. Iris sat at the table with coffee. Her full-eyeball contacts were gone. Her face mesh was gone. Her hair was still split chrome and gold. When she said: “Morning.” Nova's voice came out. Ace stopped. Brenda sat beside her. Contacts gone. Face mesh gone. Chrome and brass-yellow hair still present. She smiled. “Don't.” Vega's voice. Ace pointed at both of them. “This is horrible.” Iris looked at her orange hair. Then at her face. Then said: “Mandi.” Ace opened her mouth. Mandi answered. “Fuck you.” Brenda laughed. Across the table, Imani laughed too. Platinum-blonde hair. Her own face. Her own eyes. Anna's voice. Ace turned. “You too.” Imani smiled. “Good morning.” “No.” Elisa sat beside her. Ice-blue hair still in place. Her face mesh had been removed. Bea's voice remained. “I agree.” Ace looked at her. Then around the table. Six altered voices. Two women who sounded normal. One of those was Shammy, still asleep. The other— Kiro was not here yet. Ace pointed toward the coffee. “Can I have some before reality gets worse?” Brenda pushed a mug toward her. Ace took it. “I love you.” “Obviously.” Iris sighed. --- Elisa had not gone anywhere after the event. There had never been a serious question of trying. Bea's voice was not something she could remove with her contacts, hair or face mesh. The biosculpt would fade. Until it did, the ordinary handoff that allowed Elisa to move cleanly between her protected public life and the safehouse was useless. The woman Reyes normally returned to security had Elisa's face. Elisa's credentials. Elisa's manner. And, for the next few days, absolutely not Elisa's voice. Nobody had been interested in explaining that. So Reyes had brought Bea back with the others. Elisa had slept in one of the guest rooms. Safely invisible. Imani had stayed for an entirely different reason. Nobody had asked her to. Nobody had needed to. When the question of the ground station had finally come up sometime after the venue closed, Imani had looked around at the others, looked at the time, thought about the shuttle, and said: “Tomorrow.” Nobody argued. Her Palace life would survive one more night without her. And after an evening like that, immediately climbing onto a shuttle had seemed almost offensively sensible. So Anna had slept in another guest room. Which meant that by the time Ace arrived in the kitchen, several women who had used the private rooms during the evening were already gathered within a few meters of one another. Ace noticed this. Smiled. Elisa saw the smile. “No.” Ace drank coffee. “I didn't say anything.” “Your face did.” Imani looked between them. “What was she going to say?” “Nothing.” Ace smiled into the mug. Imani narrowed her eyes. Then smiled too. “Right.” --- Mai entered. Ace turned. Mai's silver hair had not yet returned. The neon-pink dreadlocks remained impossible to ignore. Mai crossed directly to the coffee. Ace moved her mug away. Mai stopped. Looked at her. Ace smiled. “My coffee.” Mai continued looking. Ace lasted three seconds. Then pushed it toward her. Mai drank. Imani watched. “Pathetic.” Ace looked at her. “Excuse me?” Anna's voice made Imani's grin even worse. “You folded immediately.” “She has a look.” Mai handed the mug back. “I didn't do anything.” “Exactly.” Elisa nodded. “She does have a look.” Ace pointed at her. “Traitor.” Bea's voice answered: “Accurate traitor.” Brenda leaned against Iris. “This is much better with the voices.” Iris looked at her. “No, it isn't.” Vega said: “Yes, it is.” Iris closed her eyes. --- Shammy arrived next. Silver-white hair untidy from sleep. Natural voice. No cover voice. No transformed identity trying to linger after the night. Just Shammy. She looked around. Listened. Smiled. “You all sound funny.” Six women stared at her. Shammy walked to the coffee. Ace pointed. “Cruel.” “Yes.” Imani laughed. Shammy poured coffee. Then looked at Imani. “Stayed.” “Yes.” “Good.” That was all. Imani's smile softened. “Good.” Elisa lifted her mug. “I was imprisoned.” Reyes's voice came from the hall. “Protected.” Everyone turned. Reyes entered carrying breakfast. Kiro followed with two more bags. Elisa smiled. “Imprisoned.” Reyes put the bags down. “You were free to leave.” “With this voice?” “Yes.” Elisa stared. Reyes stared back. “Once we found a safe way to do it.” Elisa smiled. “Exactly.” Reyes pointed at her. “Protected.” “Luxury imprisonment.” “You had your own guest room.” “And breakfast?” Reyes looked at the bags. “Yes.” Elisa nodded. “I withdraw the complaint.” --- Kiro looked around. Then started laughing. Ace narrowed her eyes. “What?” Kiro pointed around the table. “Mandi. Dalia. Nova. Vega. Bea. Anna.” Then at Shammy. “Sera.” Shammy smiled. Then Kiro pointed at herself. “Deja.” Her normal voice. Ace stared. “You sound right.” “Yes.” “I hate you.” “No, you don't.” “No.” Kiro put food on the table. Ace immediately forgave her. --- Breakfast took over. For several minutes there was no accounting. This was partly because everyone was hungry. Mostly because Iris had made the tactical mistake of allowing Brenda to open one of the food bags. Once Brenda controlled distribution, civilization deteriorated. “That's mine.” Nova's voice. Brenda looked at Iris. “You have one.” “That's the one I wanted.” “You chose that one.” “I changed my mind.” Brenda took a bite. Iris stared. “Too late.” Ace watched. Then looked at Mai. “Relationship goals.” Mai looked at her. “We already do that.” “Yes.” “You stole my food yesterday.” “That was different.” “How?” “I wanted it.” Mai smiled. Ace realized the problem. “Okay. Fair.” Imani looked around the table. “You people are exhausting.” Elisa nodded. “You get used to it.” “Do you?” “No.” --- Eventually Iris reached for the tablet. Ace saw it. “No.” Iris stopped. “I haven't said anything.” “You touched accounting.” “It is a tablet.” “It became accounting when you touched it.” Brenda kissed Iris's cheek. “Do it.” Ace looked at her. “You're supposed to be on my side.” “I want numbers.” “Why?” “Because they're funny when they're painful.” Iris smiled. “My fiancée.” Ace pointed. “Enabler.” Brenda smiled. “Also yes.” Mai sat beside Ace. “Let her.” Ace sighed. “Fine.” Iris opened the report. --- “Security first.” Reyes took coffee. “No incidents.” Iris waited. “No unauthorized access. No removals. No medical response. No emergency calls. No boundary interventions.” “Private rooms?” “Used normally. No access-control failures. Assistance controls unused. Panic controls unused.” “Venue staff?” “Good.” “External?” “Quiet.” “Departures?” “All guests confirmed out.” “Lost property?” Imani raised one hand. Everyone looked. She held up a shoe. Leona's. Ace laughed. “I forgot about that.” Imani smiled. “I didn't.” “Have you messaged her?” “Not yet.” Ace's eyebrows rose. Imani looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Face.” Ace drank coffee. Elisa laughed. Imani looked at the shoe. Then smiled. “I'll message her.” Brenda leaned forward. “Are you going to tell her you have it?” Imani looked at her. “No. I'm going to make her guess.” Brenda laughed. Iris looked at Imani. Anna's voice said: “I'm joking.” A pause. “Probably.” Ace pointed. “There she is.” Imani smiled. --- Iris moved on. “Event cost.” The table changed. Not dramatically. Just enough. Ace became interested in breakfast. Mai drank coffee. Kiro leaned back. Imani looked curious. Elisa smiled. Brenda looked delighted. Shammy continued eating. Reyes remained professionally immune. Iris began. “Venue.” Ace winced. “Catering.” Mai winced. “Security.” Reyes did not. “Wardrobe.” Everybody winced. “Cover preparation. Victor. Venue technical services. Transport. Staff. Privacy package. Private-room support. Contingency.” Ace raised one hand. “No.” Iris looked at her. “No what?” “No total.” “You don't want to know?” “I do.” “Then—” “But I also want to remain happy.” Brenda laughed. Iris turned the tablet. “Too late.” Ace looked. Stopped. Mai leaned closer. Kiro whistled. Elisa's eyebrows rose. Imani leaned over the table. “Oh.” Shammy tilted her head. “That's a lot.” Ace stared. “That is not an event.” Iris waited. “That is a small war.” “I called it a small military procurement.” “You were right.” “I know.” Brenda smiled. “Worth it.” Iris looked at her. “We do not know that.” “We had fun.” “That is not the business metric.” “It is one of mine.” Ace raised her mug. “Mine too.” Mai looked at her. Ace lowered it slightly. “And relationship building.” “Better.” --- Iris changed screens. “Hostess income is excluded.” Imani looked at her. “Entirely?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because it isn't why O'Sullivan paid for the evening.” Imani nodded. Iris continued. “Our business model assumed zero hostess revenue.” Ace glanced at Shammy. Shammy noticed. Smiled. Ace immediately looked away. Iris saw that. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “Maybe.” Shammy drank coffee. Ace lasted five seconds. “How much?” Shammy smiled. Ace pointed. “No fingers.” Shammy lowered the hand she had already started raising. Kiro laughed. Ace looked wounded. “You were actually going to do it.” “Yes.” Imani looked between them. “What?” Elisa smiled. “Don't.” “Why?” “You'll encourage her.” Shammy looked innocent. Nobody believed it. --- Iris continued. “Immediate guest feedback is positive.” Ace leaned forward. “How positive?” “Thank-you messages. Compliments about venue, food, format and company.” “Company meaning us?” “Mostly.” Brenda smiled. “Obviously.” “Several guests explicitly appreciated the lack of business pressure.” Mai nodded. “Good.” “Several said they stayed longer than expected.” Reyes looked at her coffee. “That was obvious.” “One existing client said Amber and Maeve should repeat the format.” Ace smiled. Mai saw it. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “Face.” Ace smiled wider. Iris continued. “Three guests mentioned contacting O'Sullivan later.” Ace opened her mouth. Iris raised a finger. “Mentioned.” Ace closed it. “No work yet.” Ace sighed. “Fine.” “Which is why the business conclusion remains pending.” Brenda looked at her. “But?” Iris looked at the tablet. “But socially, it worked.” Ace smiled. Iris looked at her. “Do not.” “I am being quiet.” “You're being smug.” “Silently.” “Worse.” --- Imani rested her chin on one hand. “So.” Iris looked at her. “So?” “Anna worked.” There was no philosophy in the question. No identity puzzle. Just practical satisfaction. Iris nodded. “Yes.” Imani smiled. “Good.” Ace looked at her. “Extremely.” Imani looked back. Ace smiled. Imani pointed. “No.” “I said one word.” “You were going somewhere.” “Maybe.” Elisa laughed. Imani looked at her. “You're not helping.” “I don't intend to.” Imani drank coffee. Anna's voice said: “I had fun.” That quieted the teasing. Not because it was profound. Because she meant it. Brenda smiled. “A lot?” Imani looked at her. Then at Leona's shoe on the counter. “A lot.” Ace opened her mouth. Mai covered it. Imani laughed. --- Iris looked at Elisa. “And Bea?” Elisa considered. “Bea also had fun.” Reyes looked at her. Elisa smiled. “What?” “Nothing.” “Face.” Reyes drank coffee. Elisa laughed. Then she looked at Iris. “Rachel has already messaged me.” Reyes stopped drinking. Ace looked delighted. “The coffee woman?” “Yes.” “What did she say?” Elisa took out her phone. “Three messages.” Reyes sighed. Elisa read: “First: ‘I remain unconvinced.’” Kiro laughed. “Second: ‘Your security woman drinks machine coffee voluntarily. This damages her credibility.’” Everyone looked at Reyes. Reyes stared at Elisa. Elisa smiled. “And third: ‘Comparison still required.’” Ace slapped the table. “Yes.” Reyes pointed at her. “No.” “Coffee duel.” “No.” “Scientific process.” “No.” Shammy looked at Reyes. “Rigorous methodology.” Reyes stared at her. Shammy smiled. Imani laughed in Anna's voice. Reyes looked around. “I regret breakfast.” --- The conversation wandered. As it should. Kiro admitted Adrian had been interesting. Mai did not tease her much. Ace did. Until Kiro threatened to take her coffee. Ace stopped immediately. Elisa admitted she had saved Daniel's number. Brenda asked nothing inappropriate. Which meant she was learning. Or waiting. Nobody knew. Imani finally messaged Leona. Ace tried to look at the screen. Imani moved the phone away. “Privacy.” “I was only—” “No.” “What did you write?” “No.” “Did you mention the shoe?” Imani smiled. “No.” Ace stared. “You're evil.” “Maybe.” Shammy looked pleased. --- Eventually Iris returned to the numbers. Not because anyone wanted her to. Because Iris was Iris. “The conclusion this morning is simple.” Ace groaned. Iris ignored her. “Operationally successful.” Reyes nodded. “Socially successful.” Brenda nodded. “Financially expensive.” Everyone nodded. “Commercial result unknown.” Ace sighed. Iris looked at her. “That is accurate.” “It is boring.” “It is morning accounting.” “Exactly.” Mai smiled. Iris continued. “We wait.” Ace looked suspicious. “For?” “People to call.” “And if they don't?” “Then we hosted an extremely expensive party.” Brenda smiled. “A good extremely expensive party.” “Yes.” Ace looked at Iris. “You enjoyed it.” Iris paused. Brenda immediately turned. Kiro stopped eating. Elisa smiled. Imani looked interested. Reyes became fascinated by her mug. Iris looked around the table. “This is irrelevant.” Brenda leaned closer. “You enjoyed it.” “I was working.” “As Nova.” “Yes.” “And?” Iris looked at her. Brenda waited. Finally: “Yes.” Brenda's smile softened. “Good.” She kissed Iris. Not Nova. Not Vega. No guests. No performance. Just Brenda kissing Iris at their own kitchen table while both of them still sounded completely wrong. Ace smiled. Mai's hand immediately covered her mouth. Ace kissed the palm. Mai left it there. --- A little later Imani looked at the time. “Oh.” Ace looked at her. “Shuttle?” “Eventually.” “No rush.” Imani smiled. “No.” There wasn't. The Palace would still be there. The ground station would still be there. For now she had coffee. Breakfast. People she liked. A ridiculous temporary voice. And one abandoned shoe belonging to a woman she very much intended to speak to again. She could leave later. --- Elisa had no such timetable. Not yet. Reyes looked at her. “We'll sort your exit before the biosculpt fades completely.” Elisa nodded. “No normal handoff.” “No.” “Obviously.” “Yes.” Ace looked between them. “How?” Reyes looked at her. “Carefully.” Ace waited. Reyes drank coffee. Ace frowned. “That's not an answer.” “It is until I have one.” Elisa smiled. “I vote for a helicopter.” “No.” “Armored convoy?” “No.” “Underground tunnel?” “No.” Ace joined in. “Cargo crate.” Elisa looked at her. “Ventilation?” “Premium.” Reyes stared at both of them. “I'm going to leave you here.” Elisa smiled. “You can't.” Reyes realized the trap. Bea's voice added sweetly: “Security.” Ace folded over laughing. Even Reyes smiled. Barely. --- The morning stretched. Nobody rushed it. That felt appropriate after an evening built around exactly the same principle. Eventually Imani would head for the ground station. Eventually Victor's work would fade and Elisa could move cleanly through her normal world again. Eventually the ChromeLock would come out. Eventually six women would sound like themselves. Eventually Iris would stop looking at the cost total as though it had personally insulted her. Maybe. For now, eight women who had spent the previous night being somebody else in public were sitting around the safehouse kitchen being entirely themselves. Even when their voices disagreed. Ace finished her coffee. Looked at Iris. “So when do we do it again?” Iris stared at her. “No.” Brenda laughed. Ace smiled. Mai drank her coffee. Kiro stole a piece of Ace's breakfast. Ace protested. Shammy watched the argument. Imani checked her phone and smiled at whatever Leona had sent back. Elisa sent Rachel a picture of Reyes's coffee machine. Reyes saw her do it. “Elisa.” Bea's voice answered: “Yes?” “Don't.” Too late. And beneath all of it, unnoticed among the thank-you messages and ordinary morning traffic, the first request for a meeting arrived in the O'Sullivan SAS work queue. Then a second. --- ## Chapter 23: Then the Inbox Explodes Three days later, Iris opened the O'Sullivan SAS work queue. Then she closed it. Brenda looked up from across the safehouse table. “What?” “Nothing.” Iris opened it again. The number remained. She refreshed. It got worse. Brenda slowly smiled. “What?” Iris stared at the screen. “Don't.” “I haven't done anything.” “Your face has.” Brenda stood. That was when Iris made her second mistake. She tried to turn the tablet away. Brenda's smile became enormous. “Oh.” “No.” “Oh, no.” “Brenda.” “You're hiding something.” “I am attempting to understand something.” “Same thing.” “No.” Brenda came around the table. Iris moved the tablet. Brenda moved with it. Iris moved it again. Brenda followed. They completed almost half a circle before Mai walked into the kitchen. She stopped. Watched. “What are you doing?” “Nothing,” Iris said. “She's hiding the tablet,” Brenda said. Mai looked at Iris. Iris looked at Mai. Mai looked at the tablet. Then back at Iris. “How bad?” Iris said nothing. Mai's eyebrows rose. “How good?” Brenda gasped. Iris closed her eyes. “Traitor.” Mai smiled. --- Ace arrived thirty seconds later because Brenda had sent one message. **GET IN HERE.** Ace came running. Actually running. She reached the kitchen in shorts and a shirt, one katana still strapped across her back because apparently she had been doing something downstairs. “What happened?” Nobody answered. Ace looked at Brenda. Then Mai. Then Iris. Then the tablet. Her expression changed. “No.” Iris pointed at her. “Whatever you're about to do, don't.” Ace approached slowly. “What is that?” “Work.” “How much work?” “We don't know yet.” Ace smiled. Iris's finger remained pointed. “No.” “I am standing.” “Smugly.” “I have a naturally smug posture.” “You do not.” Mai leaned against the counter. “She does.” Ace looked at her. “Thank you.” “That wasn't support.” “I took it as support.” --- Iris put the tablet flat on the table. “Fine.” Brenda sat immediately. Ace sat immediately. Mai remained standing because someone in the room needed dignity. It was not going to be Ace. Iris brought up the queue. “This is since Friday night.” Ace looked. Her eyes widened. “Oh.” Brenda leaned closer. “Oh.” Mai came closer. “Oh.” Iris looked at all three of them. “Yes.” Ace looked again. Then at Iris. “How many?” “Not all of them are real opportunities.” “How many?” “Some are follow-up messages.” “Iris.” “Some are referrals.” “Iris.” “Some are existing-client requests that might have happened anyway.” Brenda put a hand on Iris's arm. “Honey.” Iris stopped. Brenda smiled sweetly. “How many?” Iris gave them the number. Silence. Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Ace. Brenda looked at Iris. Iris looked deeply unhappy. Ace's smile began. “No.” It grew. “Ace.” It became unbearable. “Ace.” Ace stood. Mai caught the back of her shirt. “No.” “I haven't done anything.” “You were about to.” “You don't know that.” “I know you.” Ace looked wounded. Brenda pointed at the tablet. “Can I do it?” Iris looked at her. “No.” “Why does she get stopped but I don't?” “You're both stopped.” Brenda looked at Ace. Ace looked at Brenda. They nodded. Mai tightened her grip on Ace's shirt. Iris caught Brenda by the wrist. “Absolutely not.” --- They sorted the queue. That made things worse. The first category was existing clients. Not compliments. Not thank-you notes. Work. A manufacturing client wanted an expanded physical-security review for two additional facilities. A logistics company wanted O'Sullivan to reassess a route network after an internal restructuring. One executive who had attended the evening wanted a new personal-security package for an upcoming trip. Another existing client wanted a meeting about retaining O'Sullivan for ongoing risk assessment rather than calling them only when something had already gone wrong. Mai stopped at that one. “That's useful.” Iris nodded. “Very.” Ace leaned over her shoulder. “Stable.” “Yes.” “Predictable.” “Potentially.” “Boring.” Mai looked at her. Ace smiled. “Beautifully boring.” “That I agree with.” Brenda pointed at another. “What about that?” Iris opened it. Referral. Someone who had not attended the evening. Referred by someone who had. Ace became very quiet. Iris noticed. “So did I.” Mai read over her shoulder. The request was straightforward. Initial consultation. Corporate security exposure. No emergency. No mercenary job. No bullets currently involved. Just a company with a problem that wanted competent people to look at it before it became a catastrophe. Mai smiled. “This is exactly what we wanted.” “Yes.” Ace nodded. Then: “Still room for bullets later.” Mai looked at her. “Please don't put that in the proposal.” “I wasn't going to.” Brenda looked at her. “Face.” Ace sighed. --- The next category was new prospects. That was where the numbers stopped being funny. Not because there were hundreds. There weren't. This was not mass marketing. Twenty people had attended a private evening. But those twenty people knew other people. And some of those people had apparently spent their weekend talking. One wanted an assessment. Another wanted a meeting. Another had forwarded O'Sullivan's details internally. One wanted to discuss executive protection. One had a complicated problem involving theft that they were not willing to describe in writing. Ace liked that one immediately. Mai did not. Which meant they both agreed it needed investigation. Another request came from a company none of them recognized. Iris opened the referral chain. Brenda leaned closer. “They weren't there.” “No.” “Friend of?” “Friend of a guest.” Ace smiled. Iris pointed without looking. “Don't.” “I didn't do anything.” “You're radiating.” “Can smugness radiate?” “Yes.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Ace looked betrayed. --- Kiro arrived during the second pass. She walked into the kitchen. Stopped. Looked at the four women around the tablet. “No.” Ace turned. “Yes.” Kiro immediately understood. “How bad?” Iris looked at her. Kiro corrected herself. “How good?” Brenda laughed. Kiro came closer. Iris showed her. Kiro read. Whistled. Ace pointed. “That's what I did.” “No, you made a face.” “I whistled internally.” “You don't have an internal volume.” “Rude.” Kiro kept reading. Then she pointed. “That one.” Iris opened it. Network architecture and physical-access review. Potential combined job. Kiro's expression changed. “Oh.” Mai smiled. “Yours.” “Potentially.” “Interested?” “Yes.” Ace looked at Iris. “Stable business.” Iris ignored her. “Existing capabilities applied to recurring clients.” “Stable business.” “Yes.” “Without giving up merc work.” “Yes.” “Stable—” Mai put a hand over Ace's mouth. Kiro laughed. --- Reyes came later. She did not need Brenda to message her. Iris had. Reyes read the queue much more quietly than everyone else. Then she looked at Iris. “This will need scheduling.” “Yes.” “Capacity.” “Yes.” “Prioritization.” “Yes.” “Possibly more people.” Silence. That landed differently. Ace stopped smiling. Mai leaned closer. Brenda looked at Iris. Kiro folded her arms. Iris nodded. “Eventually.” Reyes pointed at the screen. “If even half of the serious ones convert into actual work, you can't handle all of it the way you handle merc jobs.” “We know.” “You'll need process.” Ace made a face. Reyes looked at her. “Process.” Ace sighed. “Fine.” “Documentation.” Ace made a worse face. “Don't push it.” “Scheduling.” “I heard you.” “Client ownership.” Ace looked at Mai. “Can we shoot something?” “Later.” “Promise?” “No.” “Hmph.” --- The important thing emerged slowly. Not every message mattered. Some would go nowhere. Some were curiosity. Some wanted a quote and would disappear when they saw the price. Some problems were outside O'Sullivan's scope. Some were inside Reyes and Kiro's scope instead. Those referrals were separated immediately. Nobody hoarded work merely to make the numbers look better. That had never been the point. But after Iris had removed duplicates, polite noise, obvious dead ends and things that simply did not fit— there was still a very healthy pile. Mai stood behind Iris. “Qualified?” Iris counted again. “Yes.” “How many O'Sullivan fits?” Iris answered. Brenda smiled. “And referrals?” Another number. Kiro smiled. Reyes nodded. Ace looked at Iris. “Future?” Iris hesitated. Then gave the number of contacts worth keeping warm even if nothing happened immediately. Ace leaned back. For once, she didn't say anything. Mai noticed. “So?” Ace looked at the screen. “This is real.” “Yes.” Not excitement now. Something quieter. They had spent years making money because someone needed a dangerous problem solved immediately. Mercenary work paid. Sometimes extraordinarily well. But it arrived when it arrived. It disappeared when it disappeared. This— Retainers. Assessments. Reviews. Corporate security. Longer relationships. Problems caught before they required blood on a floor. This could become a foundation. And the foundation meant they could choose mercenary work because they wanted it. Not because the next month depended on it. Ace looked at Mai. Mai understood immediately. Her hand settled on Ace's shoulder. Ace covered it with her own. Then Brenda ruined the moment. “So.” Everyone looked at her. She smiled at Iris. “About the party.” Iris closed her eyes. “No.” Brenda's smile widened. “We spent a small military procurement.” “Yes.” “And now—” “We do not yet have signed contracts.” “But—” “No.” Ace joined in. “But—” “No.” Kiro looked at Reyes. Reyes shook her head. “I'm staying out of this.” “Coward.” “Yes.” --- The first actual call came before lunch. Iris answered it professionally. Everyone else tried not to listen. This lasted perhaps fifteen seconds. Ace was pretending to clean a katana. Mai was pretending to read. Brenda was not pretending at all. Kiro sat with a tablet. Reyes had left before the call came. Shammy was somewhere. Iris spoke calmly. Asked questions. Made notes. Clarified scope. No sales pitch. No mention of Friday beyond the caller briefly saying they'd enjoyed the evening. Then business. A real problem. A real request. A real meeting. Iris scheduled it. Ended the call. Put the phone down. Silence. Ace looked at her. Iris looked back. Ace's eyebrows rose. Iris said nothing. Brenda leaned across the table. “Well?” “Meeting.” Ace smiled. “About?” “Risk assessment and executive travel.” “Paid?” “If they accept the proposal.” Ace nodded. Then returned to the katana. Mai watched her. Ace lasted eight seconds. “Yes!” Brenda threw both arms into the air. Kiro laughed. Iris put both hands over her face. Mai smiled. Ace stood on the chair. “Ace.” “I AM ALLOWED ONE.” “Get down.” “WE HAVE CORPORATE SYNERGY.” Mai stared. Ace immediately climbed down. “Sorry.” Brenda was laughing too hard to breathe. Iris lowered her hands. “I hate all of you.” Kiro looked at her. “No, you don't.” “No.” --- The second call came forty minutes later. Existing client. Expanded work. The third was an email asking for a formal proposal. The fourth was a referral. By mid-afternoon Iris had created a new tracking sheet. Ace discovered this and called it horrifying. Then she asked for access. Iris refused. Ace asked again. Iris refused again. Mai quietly requested access. Iris granted it. Ace stared at both of them. “Corruption.” Mai kissed her forehead. “Yes.” --- At some point Shammy wandered through carrying a package of pigments. Ace saw it. “Is that the expensive one?” Shammy stopped. “Yes.” “How expensive?” Shammy considered. Ace pointed. “Don't you dare.” Shammy smiled. Then kept walking. Ace watched her go. Kiro looked at Ace. “You walked into that.” “I stopped her.” “You prevented nothing.” “I prevented fingers.” “That is not victory.” “It is progress.” --- By evening the queue had changed again. Not dramatically. But enough. More replies. Two scheduled meetings. One request for a site visit. One existing-client expansion. Several serious prospects. Several referrals. And enough future contacts that Iris finally stopped calling Friday merely an experiment. She still refused to call it a success. Brenda noticed. Of course she did. She came up behind Iris while Iris was reading the latest request and wrapped both arms around her. Iris leaned back against her. Brenda rested her chin on Iris's shoulder. “Still pending?” “Yes.” “Mm-hm.” “It is.” “Of course.” “Brenda.” “Yes?” “Stop being smug.” “I'm not.” “You're doing it into my neck.” Brenda kissed her there. Iris smiled despite herself. Across the room Ace saw it. She looked at Mai. Mai saw the look. “No.” Ace whispered: “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “Yes.” --- Then Iris's tablet chimed again. She looked. Stopped. Mai noticed. “What?” Iris opened the message. Read it twice. Then turned the screen. It was from one of the existing clients who had attended Friday. Not a request for one job. A request to discuss an ongoing security retainer. Regular reviews. Priority consultation. Scheduled assessments. A continuing relationship. Nobody joked. Not immediately. Mai read it. Then Ace. Then Brenda. Kiro leaned over from behind. Ace looked at Iris. “That.” Iris nodded. “That.” “That is the thing.” “Yes.” “The boring thing.” “Yes.” “The beautiful boring thing.” Mai smiled. “Yes.” Ace sat back. There it was. Not guaranteed. Not signed. Not money yet. But real enough to sit on the screen. The exact kind of business they had wanted when this entire ridiculous idea began. Brenda squeezed Iris. Iris looked at the message again. Then at the queue. Then at the cost sheet from Friday. Then back at the queue. Ace saw the calculation happening. Slowly. Beautifully. Inevitably. Her smile returned. Iris saw it. “No.” Ace said nothing. “No.” Ace's smile widened. “Ace.” Brenda started smiling too. Iris looked at her. “Don't you fucking start.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Mai folded her arms. Kiro covered her mouth. Iris looked around the room. Every single one of them was waiting. She sighed. Deeply. Painfully. Then looked back at the numbers. “Fine.” Ace leaned forward. Iris pointed at her. “One word and I will kill you.” Ace nodded rapidly. Iris took another breath. “The evening appears to have been commercially effective.” Ace exploded. “HA!” Brenda shouted: “YES!” Kiro lost it. Mai started laughing. Iris dropped her forehead onto the table. From upstairs Shammy called: “What?” Ace shouted back: “SEX SELLS!” Iris's head snapped up. “We did not establish that!” Shammy's voice came down the stairs. “Okay!” Brenda was nearly on the floor. Mai caught Ace around the waist before she could climb onto anything. Iris pointed furiously at the work queue. “The relationships sold!” Ace struggled in Mai's arms. “WITH SEXY HOSTESSES!” “THE SEX WAS OPTIONAL!” “VERY SUCCESSFULLY OPTIONAL!” “Ace!” Mai finally lost the battle with her own laughter. Kiro had tears in her eyes. Brenda was useless. Iris looked at all of them. Then at the queue. Another message arrived. She stared at it. Opened it. Read. Closed her eyes. Brenda managed: “What?” Iris turned the tablet. Another meeting request. Ace went completely still. Mai tightened both arms around her. “No.” Ace vibrated. “No.” Ace made a tiny sound. “Ace.” “Mm.” “No.” “Mm-hm.” Iris looked at Mai. “Do not let her go.” “I wasn't planning to.” Ace grinned helplessly from inside Mai's arms. And the inbox chimed again. --- ## Chapter 24: Vindication Is Unbearable The problem with being right was Ace. The second problem was Brenda. By Tuesday morning, Iris had identified both as significant operational risks. She entered the kitchen and found a handwritten sign taped above the coffee machine. **COMMERCIALLY EFFECTIVE** Iris stopped. Looked at it. Looked around. Nobody. She removed it. Underneath was another sign. **RELATIONSHIPS SOLD** Iris closed her eyes. Removed that one too. Underneath: **WITH SEXY HOSTESSES** “I am going to kill her.” From somewhere behind the kitchen island, Brenda said: “Which one?” Iris turned. Brenda rose slowly into view. She had apparently been crouching there. Waiting. Iris stared at her. Brenda smiled. “Morning.” “How long have you been there?” “Not important.” “You hid behind the counter.” “Strategic positioning.” “You are almost as bad as Ace.” Brenda looked offended. “Almost?” Iris walked toward her. Brenda backed away. “Careful.” “Why?” “I have evidence.” Iris stopped. “What evidence?” Brenda held up her phone. On the screen was a picture of Iris. Yesterday. Forehead on the table. Underneath it, someone had added: **THE EVENING APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN COMMERCIALLY EFFECTIVE** Iris stared. Brenda smiled. “I love you.” “Delete it.” “No.” “Brenda.” “Never.” Iris lunged. Brenda ran. --- Ace arrived five minutes later. She saw the signs on the counter. Saw Iris chasing Brenda through the living area. Assessed the situation. Then quietly put one sign back above the coffee machine. Mai walked in behind her. Saw what she was doing. “Ace.” Ace froze. Mai looked at the sign. Ace looked at Mai. “I found it.” “You're holding tape.” Ace looked at the tape. Then back at Mai. “Coincidence.” Mai held out her hand. Ace surrendered the tape. “Oppression.” “Yes.” “Iris admitted it worked.” “She admitted it appears commercially effective.” “Same thing.” “No.” “Close enough.” Mai removed the sign. Ace followed her. “You know I'm right.” Mai kept walking. “You are becoming dangerous.” “I was already dangerous.” “Different kind.” Ace smiled. “Commercially effective dangerous?” Mai stopped. Turned. Ace immediately ran. --- The first signed piece of new work arrived before noon. Not the retainer. A smaller assessment. Straightforward. Good margin. No bullets. Iris processed it. Logged it. Scheduled the first meeting. Then made the mistake of telling everyone. Ace appeared in the doorway. She said nothing. Iris pointed. “No.” Ace nodded. Still silent. Brenda appeared behind her. Also silent. “No.” Both women nodded. Iris looked from one to the other. “Why are you standing like that?” Ace shrugged. Brenda shrugged. “Go away.” Neither moved. Mai came down the hall. Saw them. Stopped. “What?” Iris pointed. “They're doing something.” “We're not,” Ace said. “We're celebrating responsibly,” Brenda added. “You are standing in my doorway.” “Yes.” “Smugly.” Ace looked at Brenda. Brenda looked at Ace. Together: “We have naturally smug posture.” Mai turned away. Her shoulders moved. Iris pointed at her. “Don't encourage them.” “I am not.” “You're laughing.” “I am not.” Mai left. She was absolutely laughing. --- The second signed job arrived that afternoon. That one was from an existing client. Expanded scope. Iris added the value to the projected work total. Paused. Checked it. Then checked again. Brenda leaned over her shoulder. Iris didn't bother trying to hide the screen anymore. “That much?” “Yes.” Brenda looked at the event-cost column. Then at projected confirmed work. Then back. “Oh.” Iris nodded. Brenda became unusually quiet. Iris glanced at her. “What?” “That already covers…” “Yes.” “All of it?” “Not quite.” “Almost?” “Yes.” Brenda's smile returned. Iris pointed. “Do not summon Ace.” Brenda slowly lowered her phone. “I wasn't.” “You had her contact open.” “I talk to Ace.” “You were about to send her a screenshot.” “No.” Iris held out her hand. Brenda surrendered the phone. “This relationship is becoming controlling.” Iris kissed her. “Terribly.” Brenda smiled into the kiss. Then reached around Iris with her free hand and hit send on the tablet. Iris pulled back. “What did you do?” Brenda ran. Iris looked at the screen. A message had gone to Ace. **ALMOST PAID FOR ITSELF** Three dots appeared immediately. Then: **I FUCKING KNEW IT** Iris put her head on the desk. --- By Wednesday, Victor's temporary work on Ace and Mai had faded completely. Their natural voices were theirs again, which meant Amber and Maeve were available as complete covers once more. The retainer meeting had happened. Amber and Maeve attended. Of course they did. Ace and Mai sat across from the client in immaculate O'Sullivan presentation, blonde and copper-red, polished, married, composed, professional. Nobody at the table saw Mandi. Nobody saw Dalia. Nobody mentioned private rooms. Nobody mentioned kisses. Nobody mentioned Friday beyond a brief: “Excellent evening.” Maeve smiled. “We're glad you enjoyed it.” Amber smiled beside her. “We were sorry to miss it.” Mai felt Ace's knee twitch under the table. She did not look at her. That would have been fatal. The meeting continued. Scope. Availability. Response times. Quarterly review. Priority consultation. Site assessments. Emergency escalation. The boring thing. The beautiful boring thing. The client wanted a formal proposal. Maeve said they would have one within twenty-four hours. Amber nodded professionally. They left. Walked down the corridor. Entered the elevator. Doors closed. Ace lasted exactly one floor. Then she folded in half laughing. Mai leaned against the wall. “You held it together.” “She said excellent evening.” “I heard.” “We were sorry to miss it.” “You said that.” “I almost died.” “I know.” Ace straightened. Her blonde hair was immaculate. Her blue eyes were bright with suppressed laughter. “She liked Mandi.” Mai looked at her. Ace's grin widened. “She told Amber the evening was excellent and she liked Mandi.” “Yes.” “Amber thanked her.” “Yes.” “I thanked her for liking me.” “Yes.” Ace pressed both hands over her face. “This is the best business model ever invented.” Mai laughed. “No.” “It is.” “No.” “It might be.” Mai paused. Ace slowly lowered her hands. Mai saw the trap too late. Ace's smile became incandescent. Mai pointed. “Don't.” “You said might.” “I withdraw it.” “Too late.” “Ace.” “Maeve O'Sullivan believes in sexy hostesses.” “I will leave you in this elevator.” Ace wrapped both arms around her. “You love me.” “Unfortunately.” Ace kissed her. Mai kissed her back. The elevator opened. A man waiting outside stared. Amber and Maeve separated with perfect dignity. “Morning,” Maeve said. They walked past him. The elevator doors closed. Ace whispered: “Commercially effective.” Mai shoved her gently into the wall. --- The proposal went out. The client accepted it the following morning. Iris received the confirmation. She read it. Read it again. Then brought up the numbers. Confirmed work. Likely work. Event cost. She did not need a calculator. That was irritating. She used one anyway. Still irritating. Brenda entered carrying coffee. She saw Iris's face. Stopped. “Oh.” Iris said nothing. Brenda put the coffee down. “Oh.” “Don't.” “It happened.” “Something happened.” “It paid for itself.” Iris looked at the screen. “Confirmed work directly traceable to relationships strengthened or initiated around the event has now exceeded the event cost.” Brenda stared at her. “That is the most Iris way anyone has ever said ‘it paid for itself.’” “It is accurate.” Brenda leaned over. “How much?” Iris showed her. Brenda blinked. Then looked again. “That's not just paid for itself.” “No.” “That is—” “Yes.” “And the other proposals aren't included?” “No.” “The referrals?” “Only confirmed work.” “The future contacts?” “No.” Brenda sat down. For perhaps five seconds, she was silent. Then she whispered: “Oh, this is going to be unbearable.” Iris looked at her. “You mean Ace.” Brenda smiled. “I mean us.” Iris realized. “No.” Brenda stood. “No.” Brenda picked up the tablet. “Put that down.” Brenda ran. “BRENDA.” --- Ace was in the garage with Marco when Brenda arrived. Marco was halfway under a vehicle. Ace was holding a light. Brenda appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Ace.” Ace looked up. Something in Brenda's face registered instantly. She dropped the light. Marco's voice came from under the vehicle. “Hey.” Ace caught it before it hit the floor. “Sorry.” Brenda held up the tablet. Ace's eyes widened. “No.” Brenda nodded. “No.” Brenda nodded harder. Ace looked at Marco. “Emergency.” “What kind?” “Business.” Marco slid partly out. Looked at Brenda. Looked at Ace. “That's new.” “Yes.” Ace ran. Marco watched her go. Then looked at the abandoned light. “Could've left that.” --- Mai heard them before she saw them. Running feet. Two sets. Then: “MAI!” She stepped into the hall. Ace nearly hit her. Mai caught her automatically. Brenda stopped behind her. Ace grabbed Mai's shoulders. “It paid for itself.” Mai blinked. “What?” “The event.” Brenda held up the tablet. “Confirmed work.” Mai took it. Read. Her eyebrows rose. Ace bounced once. Mai tightened her grip. “Don't.” “I only moved vertically.” “You're about to do it again.” “Yes.” Mai looked back at the tablet. Then at Brenda. “This excludes probable work?” “Yes.” “Referrals not yet converted?” “Yes.” “The retainer?” “Accepted.” Mai looked at Ace. Ace's expression changed. The manic victory softened into something warmer. “Stable.” Mai nodded. “Stable.” Ace smiled. For a moment, that was enough. Then Brenda said: “And we were right.” Mai closed her eyes. The moment was over. --- Iris arrived. Not running. Iris did not run after Brenda anymore. She had learned. She walked into the room with the calm expression of a woman planning several murders. Brenda immediately moved behind Mai. Ace moved beside Brenda. Mai looked over her shoulder. “Cowards.” “Yes,” both said. Iris held out her hand. “Tablet.” Brenda gave it to Mai. Iris looked at Mai. Mai handed it over. Betrayal. Brenda gasped. Mai shrugged. “I'm not dying for this.” Ace looked at Iris. “So.” “No.” “It paid for itself.” “Yes.” Ace froze. Everyone froze. Iris realized what she had done. Ace whispered: “Say it again.” “No.” “You said yes.” “I answered a factual statement.” Brenda stepped out from behind Mai. “It paid for itself.” Iris stared. Brenda waited. Iris said nothing. Ace joined her. “It paid for itself.” Silence. Mai leaned against the wall. She knew where this was going. Kiro arrived from the upper door at exactly the wrong moment. She looked around. “What?” Ace pointed at Iris. “Tell her the event paid for itself.” Kiro looked at Iris. Then at the tablet. Then at Brenda's expression. “No.” Ace stared. “Coward.” “Absolutely.” Iris nodded at Kiro. “Thank you.” Kiro smiled. Then looked at Ace. “Did it?” Ace's grin returned. “Yes.” Kiro looked at Iris. “Oh.” Iris pointed at her. “No.” Kiro raised both hands. “I didn't say anything.” “Your face.” Ace burst out laughing. --- Reyes arrived later and was immediately shown the numbers. She read them. Nodded. “Good.” Ace stared. “That's it?” “Yes.” “It paid for itself.” “I heard.” “And?” “Good.” Ace looked genuinely offended. “You are impossible.” Reyes handed the tablet back to Iris. “The more interesting number is recurring work.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Iris opened the forecast. Reyes read it. “That.” Ace looked. “What?” “If the retainer continues, and even a conservative percentage of these follow-ups convert, the event isn't important because it paid for itself.” Silence settled. Reyes pointed at the projection. “It's important because it changed the shape of the business.” Ace stopped smiling. Mai came closer. Iris nodded slowly. Reyes continued. “You wanted predictable work between merc contracts.” “Yes,” Mai said. “You have the beginning of it.” Ace looked at the numbers. There it was again. The quieter victory. Not one big payday. Not a spectacular job. Not a pile of eddies from a dangerous contract. A structure. Something that could still be there next month. And the month after. Brenda slipped her hand into Iris's. Iris squeezed it. Ace leaned against Mai. Kiro sat on the edge of the table. For perhaps fifteen seconds, nobody ruined it. Then Reyes said: “You'll need more process.” Ace groaned. “There she is.” --- Process arrived anyway. Iris built a client pipeline. Mai helped define which work belonged to O'Sullivan and which should be referred. Kiro helped define technical engagements. Reyes defined security work she was willing to take independently or jointly. Ace contributed several excellent observations and complained about every column. Brenda contributed practical operational notes and renamed one internal category **PEOPLE WHO HAVE MONEY AND PROBLEMS**. Iris changed it back. Brenda changed it again. This continued for two days. Eventually Mai created a permission rule that prevented Brenda from renaming columns. Brenda called this fascism. Ace agreed. Neither was given administrator access. --- Imani called on Thursday. Iris answered. Imani's voice was nearly her own again. Not completely. Anna still lingered around the edges. “Hey.” “Hey.” “How's the aftermath?” Iris looked at the queue. “Profitable.” There was a pause. Then Imani laughed. “Oh, no.” “What?” “You admitted it.” “I said profitable.” “You sound unhappy.” “I am surrounded by Ace and Brenda.” “Ah.” Iris leaned back. “How are you?” “Good.” “Palace?” “Still here.” “And Anna?” A small pause. Then: “I liked her.” Practical. Simple. Iris smiled. “I noticed.” “Everyone noticed.” “Yes.” Imani laughed. Then Iris looked at the event notes. At the guest feedback. At the requests already coming in. At the preliminary idea file Brenda had created for another evening before anyone had authorized her to do so. “Imani.” “Mm?” “How attached are you to Anna being a one-time thing?” Silence. Iris immediately regretted the wording. Then she heard the smile in Imani's voice. “Interesting.” “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “Yes.” Iris smiled despite herself. “Would you do it again?” “Yes.” Immediate. No hesitation. Iris nodded. “Good.” “Are you planning another one?” “No.” A pause. Imani laughed. Iris looked at the numbers. “At present.” “That sounds less like no.” “Goodbye, Imani.” “Bye, Iris.” Iris ended the call. Brenda was standing in the doorway. Iris looked at her. “No.” Brenda smiled. “You asked Anna back.” “I asked whether she would be available if needed.” “You asked Anna back.” “There is no event.” “Yet.” Iris pointed. “Out.” Brenda left. Still smiling. --- That evening, Mai found Ace on the sofa. Ace had a tablet. Mai stopped. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” Mai approached. Ace tilted the screen away. Mai stopped. Ace realized her mistake. Mai's eyebrows rose. “What are you doing?” “Research.” “Into?” Ace hesitated. Mai held out her hand. Ace surrendered the tablet. Mai looked. Private venues. Ace watched her. Mai scrolled. One listing had a large indoor pool. Another had extensive private spa facilities. A third— Mai stopped. Looked at Ace. Ace smiled very carefully. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “This one explicitly allows adult activity in the pools.” “I know.” Mai looked at her. Ace's smile widened. “No.” “Could be good networking.” “No.” “Relaxed atmosphere.” “No.” “Relationship building.” “Ace.” “Commercially effective relationship building.” Mai put the tablet behind her back. Ace climbed onto her knees on the sofa. “Mai.” “No.” “Mai.” “No.” Ace wrapped her arms around Mai's waist. “Maeve.” Mai looked down. “That is not going to work.” “Dalia?” Mai's expression changed by approximately nothing. Ace grinned. “Almost.” “No.” Ace kissed her stomach through her shirt. Mai put one hand on Ace's head. “We are not planning another event four days after proving the first one worked.” Ace looked up. “So we're planning one later.” Mai closed her eyes. Ace smiled. “Got you.” “You are unbearable.” “Commercially effective.” Mai grabbed a sofa cushion. Ace ran. --- Later that night, Iris opened the preliminary planning folder. She did not create it. That mattered. Brenda had. Ace had added three venue links. Mai had removed two. Kiro had added a note asking whether a future event needed stronger network isolation if the guest list expanded. Reyes had added: **NO EVENT EXISTS.** Underneath, Brenda had written: **NOT YET.** Iris stared at the file. Then at the current work queue. Then at the forecast. Then at the signed retainer. Then back at the file. She opened the remaining venue link. Spa. Pools. Private rooms. Excellent security separation. Exclusive booking available. Iris read the page. Slowly. Brenda came up behind her. Said nothing. Iris continued reading. Brenda rested her chin on Iris's shoulder. Still nothing. Iris reached the bottom. Closed the page. Brenda waited. “No.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Iris reopened the page. Brenda smiled. Iris pointed at her without looking. “Do not.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “No.” Iris looked at her. Brenda's smile was radiant. Iris sighed. Deeply. Then looked once more at the numbers. “We'll discuss it.” Brenda kissed her. Properly this time. When they separated, Iris was smiling. Brenda whispered: “Commercially effective.” Iris shoved her away. “Get out.” Brenda ran laughing. Iris looked at the open venue page. Then at the work queue. Another request had arrived. She shook her head. And left the planning folder open. --- ## Chapter 25: Epilogue — Sera Marketing Department The first indication that something had gone wrong arrived on Saturday morning. Ace was drinking coffee at the safehouse kitchen table. This was important. Later, she would insist that everything which followed had happened before she had received enough coffee to be held legally responsible for her reactions. Her agent chimed. She ignored it. It chimed again. Then twice more. Ace frowned. Mai sat across from her with breakfast. “What?” “People.” “Dangerous.” “Yes.” Ace checked the messages. Stopped. Mai noticed immediately. “What?” Ace stared at the screen. “No.” Mai put down her coffee. “What?” Ace slowly turned the screen around. Mai read. Then looked at Ace. Then read again. “No.” “That's what I said.” Shammy walked into the kitchen. Ace and Mai turned simultaneously. Shammy stopped. Silver-white hair shifted faintly around her shoulders. “What?” Ace held up the agent. “What did you do?” Shammy looked at it. “I don't know.” “Think.” Shammy thought. “No.” Ace narrowed her eyes. Mai took the agent. “Three separate people are asking whether Sera will be present at the next O'Sullivan event.” Shammy smiled. “Oh.” Ace pointed. “That is not an answer.” “I talked to people.” “You talked to lots of people.” “Yes.” “Did you tell them there was another event?” “No.” Mai looked at the messages again. “There isn't another event.” “Yes.” Ace leaned forward. “Did you tell anyone that?” Shammy considered. Ace's eyes narrowed further. “Shammy.” “They didn't ask.” Ace dropped her forehead onto the table. --- Iris entered the kitchen carrying her own tablet. Brenda followed her. Iris looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then Shammy. Then at the expression on Ace's face. “What?” Ace lifted her head. “You tell her.” Mai turned her agent toward Iris. Iris read the messages. Her expression changed. Slowly. “No.” Ace pointed. “See?” Iris scrolled. “Why are people asking whether Sera will be at the next event?” “That is the current mystery.” “There is no next event.” “We know.” Brenda leaned over Iris's shoulder. Read. Then smiled. Iris saw the smile without looking. “Don't.” “I haven't done anything.” “Face.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Iris ignored this with effort. She looked at Shammy. “Did you tell anyone there would be another event?” “No.” “Did you imply there would be?” Shammy thought. “I don't think so.” Ace lifted her head another centimeter. “You don't think so?” “I talked to people.” “Yes, we've established the crime.” Shammy looked puzzled. “What crime?” “Marketing.” “I didn't market.” “You existed publicly.” “Yes.” “Apparently that's enough.” Iris looked back at the messages. “One is from an existing client.” “Yes.” “One is from a prospect.” “Yes.” Iris stopped at the third. “I don't know this person.” Mai looked. “Neither do I.” Iris opened the referral trail. “Friend of Martin.” Ace slowly turned toward Shammy. “What did Martin tell them?” “I don't know.” “About you.” “I don't know.” “About the event.” “I don't know.” Ace stared at her. Shammy smiled. Ace looked at Mai. “She is impossible to interrogate.” “Yes.” Iris put the tablet on the table. “There is no next event.” Shammy nodded. “Okay.” Ace stared suspiciously. “That was too easy.” “Iris said there isn't.” “Yes.” Shammy reached for toast. Ace continued staring. “Why do I feel like you know something?” “I don't.” “That somehow makes it worse.” --- By eleven thirteen, Iris's tablet had chimed often enough that she stopped pretending it was ordinary Saturday traffic. She was still at the table. Brenda was beside her. Ace had acquired a second coffee. Mai was reading. Shammy had migrated to the floor with a sketchpad. Iris looked at the new messages. Then at Shammy. “Five.” Ace lowered her mug. “What?” “Five inquiries specifically involving Sera.” Ace turned. Shammy looked up. “What?” “You.” Shammy looked behind herself. Ace pointed harder. “You.” “Oh.” Iris opened one. “One asks whether Sera accepts private bookings outside public appearances.” Mai looked at Iris. “Don't answer that for her.” “I wasn't going to.” “Good.” Brenda leaned closer. “What else?” Iris opened another. “One asks whether O'Sullivan handles Sera's bookings.” Ace made a strangled sound. Shammy looked interested. “Do you?” “No,” Iris and Ace said together. Shammy nodded. “Good.” Ace stared at her. “You have a booking system.” “Yes.” “No, you don't.” “Yes.” “Going to Jig-Jig and hoping you happen to be there is not a booking system.” Shammy looked at her. “It works.” Ace opened her mouth. Closed it. Iris looked at Ace. “Do not validate this.” “I wasn't.” “You were about to.” “I was looking for weaknesses.” Mai lowered what she was reading. “Find any?” Ace looked at her. “No.” Brenda laughed. --- The sixth inquiry went directly to Sera. Shammy's agent chimed. She looked down. Read. Then stood and handed it to Ace. Ace read. Her expression changed. “Gallery.” Mai came closer. “Invitation?” “Yes.” Not a booking. Not a sexual proposition. An invitation to discuss a small exhibition. The person writing had heard about Sera from someone who had attended the O'Sullivan evening. Not because of what had happened in Room Five. At least, not directly. They had heard about the artist who had spent part of the night discussing structural instability with a physicist while missing a shoe. Ace looked at Shammy. “That sounds like you.” “Yes.” Mai read further. “They want to see your recent work.” Shammy nodded. “Okay.” Ace stared. “Okay?” “Yes.” “That's it?” “What else?” Ace looked at Mai. Mai shrugged. “Artist.” Ace handed the agent back. “Fine.” Shammy returned to the floor. Thirty seconds later her agent chimed again. She looked. Smiled. Ace pointed. “What?” “Nothing.” “What?” Shammy turned the agent. Another gallery. Ace stared. Mai started laughing. --- By afternoon, Iris had created a category in the contact tracker. She hated herself for it. **SERA-RELATED** Brenda saw it immediately. “You made her a category.” “I had to.” “You made Sera a business category.” “I made inquiries relating to Sera a category.” “Same thing.” “No.” Brenda kissed her cheek. Iris continued sorting. The category contained two gallery contacts. One private art commission inquiry. Three questions about future O'Sullivan events. One question about whether Sera appeared at corporate functions regularly. Two questions about private bookings. And one message that simply said: **Is she always like that?** Iris stared at that one for several seconds. Brenda leaned closer. “Well?” “I am not answering this.” “Why?” “Because I don't know what they mean.” Ace looked over from the other side of the table. “Yes.” Everyone looked at her. Ace pointed at the message. “The answer is yes.” Shammy looked up. “Yes.” Iris looked at both of them. Then moved the message into **SERA-RELATED** without answering it. --- Kiro arrived later in the afternoon. The lower door recognized her. A moment later the upper doorbell rang. Shammy went to let her in. Kiro entered, took one look at the gathering around the table, and stopped. “What happened?” Ace pointed at Shammy. “Marketing.” Shammy looked at Ace. “I didn't market.” “You existed publicly.” “Yes.” “Apparently that's enough.” Kiro sat down. “What happened?” Iris turned the tablet toward her. Kiro read the category. Then smiled. Ace pointed. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “Face.” Kiro kept reading. “Gallery?” “Yes.” “Another gallery?” “Yes.” “Private commission?” “Yes.” “Event inquiries?” “Yes.” Kiro looked at Shammy. “You did well.” Shammy smiled. “Thank you.” Ace threw both hands up. “NO.” Kiro looked at her. “What?” “We are not encouraging this.” “Why?” Ace stopped. Kiro waited. Ace looked at Shammy. Then at the tablet. Then back at Kiro. “Because.” Kiro smiled. “Strong argument.” Ace looked offended. --- Mai returned from the kitchen counter carrying two fresh mugs. She handed one to Ace. Ace accepted it. “Love you.” “Yes.” Mai sat beside her. “What are we fighting about now?” “Sera has accidentally become a lead-generation channel.” Mai stopped. Looked at Shammy. Shammy kept drawing. Mai looked at Ace. “Accidentally?” “Yes.” Kiro said: “She didn't actually do anything.” “Exactly.” Ace pointed at her. “That's the problem.” Mai took the tablet. Read. Scrolled. Paused at the gallery inquiries. Then the event inquiries. Then the private commission. Then: **Is she always like that?** Mai smiled. “What?” Mai turned the tablet toward Shammy. Shammy read the question. “Yes.” Ace stared at her. Mai laughed. --- Sunday made it worse. Someone posted a picture. Nothing compromising. Nothing from a private room. Nothing that violated the event's privacy rules. Just an exterior shot of the venue from the street. No guests visible. Caption: **Best corporate event I've attended in years.** No company named. No hostesses named. No details. But people who knew knew. And people who did not know started asking the people who did. Iris watched the contact graph widen. Not explode. Not go viral. That would have been ridiculous. Something worse. It became interesting. In the quiet, expensive, invitation-only social circles O'Sullivan wanted access to, Friday acquired a little mythology. Who had been there? What had happened? Who were the hostesses? Was Amber there? No. Maeve? No. Apparently they had been away. Then who organized it? O'Sullivan. Would they do another? Nobody knew. Who was the tiny orange-haired woman? Mandi. Who was the pink-haired one? Dalia. The working partners? Nova and Vega Marlow. The ice-blue-haired woman? Bea. The dark-haired one? Deja. The blonde? Anna. And the silver-haired artist? Sera. That answer produced more questions than the others. Because some people already knew Sera. Not personally. By reputation. Art. Installations. Paint. Unpredictability. And now apparently— Jig-Jig? Maybe. Private bookings? Sometimes. Rate? Nobody seemed able to answer. Availability? Worse. Someone asked a person who had asked someone else who claimed to know someone who had actually spoken to her. The answer came back: **Go to Jig-Jig.** When? Nobody knew. Ace saw the message chain. She stared at it. Then slowly put the tablet down. “No.” Mai looked over. “What?” “It escaped.” “What escaped?” “Her booking system.” Shammy looked up from across the room. “It works.” Ace pointed. “STOP SAYING THAT.” --- By Monday, Iris had a problem. Not a dangerous problem. Not even a particularly serious one. Just a problem. People wanted to know when the next O'Sullivan evening would happen. There was no next O'Sullivan evening. Therefore Iris could not tell them. This should have solved the problem. It did not. Instead, scarcity made people more interested. Brenda found this hilarious. Ace found it brilliant. Mai found it concerning that Ace found it brilliant. Reyes found it predictable. Kiro found it useful. Shammy did not appear to care. That was probably why it worked. They gathered at the safehouse table. Kiro had arrived through the usual doors. Reyes had come separately. Iris had the numbers. Again. Ace saw the tablet. “Oh, good.” “No.” “You called us.” “I called a meeting.” “About numbers.” “Yes.” “Good numbers?” Iris stared. Ace smiled. “Right.” Iris opened the report. “We have received eleven inquiries specifically asking about future private social events.” Brenda's eyebrows rose. “Eleven?” “Yes.” “From Friday guests?” “Four.” Mai leaned forward. “The rest?” “Referrals or secondary contacts.” Ace smiled. Iris pointed. “No.” Ace leaned back. “Didn't say anything.” “Three specifically mention Sera.” Ace turned toward Shammy. Shammy blinked. “One specifically asks whether Sera is expected at the next event.” Ace whispered: “Marketing department.” “I am not.” Iris ignored them. “Two ask generally whether the same hostess team would return.” That changed the room. Mai looked at her. “All eight?” “The same team.” Kiro smiled. Brenda leaned back. Ace looked pleased. Shammy continued drawing. Iris continued. “One specifically mentioned Anna.” Ace smiled. “Imani will enjoy that.” “Yes.” “One asked about Bea.” Reyes spoke immediately. “Elisa needs advance planning.” “Yes.” No joke followed. Any future event involving Bea meant planning around Elisa's movement and the biosculpt window from the beginning. Possible. But never casual. Iris made the note. “One asked whether Nova and Vega work together regularly.” Brenda smiled. Iris looked at her. “Do not.” “I didn't say anything.” “Face.” Brenda kissed her cheek. --- “And,” Iris continued, “one person wants to know whether Mandi and Dalia can be requested together.” Silence. Ace slowly looked at Mai. Mai looked back. Kiro covered her mouth. Brenda looked delighted. Reyes stared at the table. Shammy's pencil stopped. Ace smiled. Mai pointed. “No.” “I haven't said anything.” “No.” Ace turned to Iris. “What exactly did they ask?” “No.” “I need context.” “You absolutely do not.” “Professional context.” “Ace.” “Commercially effective context.” Mai put her hand over Ace's mouth. Ace kissed the palm. Mai kept it there. Brenda started laughing. Iris closed the message. “Not relevant.” Ace made a muffled objection. “Not relevant.” More muffled objection. Mai looked down at her. “No.” Ace stopped. For now. --- Iris moved to the final page. “The important part.” Ace immediately behaved. Mostly. “The original event produced confirmed work.” Everyone knew that. “It produced qualified follow-up.” Known. “It produced referrals.” Known. “And now it has produced demand for the event itself.” That was new. Mai considered it. “So the evening has become something people want access to.” “Yes.” Kiro leaned back. “Which makes invitations valuable.” “Yes.” Reyes nodded. “And lets you choose the room.” “Yes.” Ace smiled. Not smugly this time. Interested. Mai saw the business thought forming. “Not bigger.” Ace looked at her. “No.” Iris looked between them. Mai continued. “Don't scale it.” Kiro nodded. “Keep it difficult to attend.” Reyes said: “Controlled guest list.” Brenda smiled. “Same size.” Iris looked at her. “Approximately.” “Same hostesses?” Iris looked around the table. “That depends on whether they want to do it.” Good. Always first. Ace looked at Shammy. “Marketing department?” Shammy looked up. “No.” “Hostess?” Shammy considered. “Maybe.” Ace smiled. “That's yes.” “No.” “It's Sera yes.” Shammy thought about that. “Maybe.” Ace looked at everyone. “See?” --- The meeting ended without approving another event. Officially. This mattered to Iris. No date. No venue. No guest list. No budget. No hostess roster. No plan. Only a folder. A few notes. A spa venue nobody had deleted. And eleven people asking questions. Perfectly harmless. --- That evening, Ace found Shammy on the sofa. She was painting. Not on canvas. On a transparent sheet laid across her knees. Fine silver lines. Orange. Pink. Electric blue. Ace climbed onto the sofa beside her. “What is it?” “I don't know yet.” Ace watched. Shammy added another line. Ace leaned against her shoulder. “You know people are talking about you.” “Yes.” “Doesn't bother you?” “No.” “People are trying to figure out your rate.” Shammy smiled. Ace groaned. “No.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were thinking it.” “Yes.” Ace watched her paint. Then: “Are you going to Jig-Jig again?” Shammy's brush stopped. She considered. “Probably.” “When?” “I don't know.” Ace sighed. “Of course.” Shammy resumed painting. Ace rested her head against her shoulder. After a while: “Sabine?” Shammy smiled. Ace lifted her head. “Oh.” Shammy said nothing. Ace stared. “Did she message you?” Shammy painted. “Shammy.” “Yes?” “Did Sabine message you?” “Yes.” Ace sat upright. “What did she say?” Shammy looked at her. “Private.” Ace stared. Then slowly narrowed her eyes. “Fine.” Shammy smiled. Ace leaned back against her. Three seconds passed. “How much did she—” “No.” Ace groaned. --- The next morning, Iris was already at the safehouse table when another inquiry arrived. She opened it. Read. Stopped. Brenda, sitting beside her, noticed. “What?” Iris turned the screen. The message was short. Polite. From someone Iris recognized by reputation but had never met. They had heard about the O'Sullivan evening. They wanted to know whether future invitations could be requested. And whether Sera would be there. Brenda read it twice. Then smiled. Iris sighed. “What?” Brenda kissed her cheek. “Nothing.” “Face.” Brenda got up to refill her coffee. Iris looked at the message again. Then opened the future-event folder. She added the name. Closed it. Paused. Opened it again. At the top of the document was the working title Brenda had given the file. Iris had already changed it twice. Brenda had changed it back twice. **NEXT TERRIBLE IDEA** Iris stared. Then added one line beneath the guest-interest section. **Do not advertise.** She saved. Closed the file. Her agent chimed. Another inquiry. Iris looked toward the ceiling. “No.” From upstairs, Ace shouted: “WHAT?” “NOTHING.” “IS IT COMMERCIAL?” “NO.” A pause. “EFFECTIVE?” “ACE.” Laughter came through the ceiling. Iris put both hands over her face. Her agent chimed again. Then her personal phone. She checked the phone first. Message from Shammy. One image. A photograph of a new painting. No explanation. Iris looked at it. Beautiful. Strange. Silver-white motion through fields of orange and pink. At the bottom corner, almost invisible, Shammy had painted eight tiny figures. Iris smiled. Then noticed the title. **MARKETING DEPARTMENT** Iris stared. A second message arrived. **Ace named it.** Iris laughed. She couldn't help it. She saved the image. Then returned to the work queue. Another request waited. Another person wanted a meeting. Another wanted an introduction. Another wanted to know whether there would ever be another evening. Iris looked at the numbers. At the signed work. At the referrals. At the future-event folder. At **Do not advertise.** And finally understood the problem. They didn't need to advertise. They had Sera.