## Chapter 1 — The Color Chart Friday, November 1, 2077 — Watson Safehouse Elisa woke to the sound of someone giggling. Not laughing. Giggling. There was a distinction, and after years of knowing Ace, Elisa had learned that the second was considerably more dangerous. She kept her eyes closed. The giggling continued. Then a second voice joined it. Mai. Oh, wonderful. They were collaborating. Elisa lay perfectly still, enjoying the warmth of the enormous bed, the comfortable weight of the blanket, and the rather delightful circumstance of having spent the final hours of Halloween between two women she adored. Somewhere beyond the curtains, Night City was conducting its usual business of being loud, expensive, and occasionally fatal. Inside the bedroom, everything was peaceful. Except the giggling. Finally, Elisa opened one eye. Ace was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, staring at Elisa's hair. Her own neon-orange hair looked as bright as it had the previous evening. Mai sat beside her, an extraordinary cascade of neon-pink dreadlocks falling over one shoulder. They were both smiling. Elisa looked from one to the other. "No." Ace's grin widened. "I haven't said anything." "You don't have to." Mai began laughing again. Elisa sat up. Her ice-blue hair slipped across her cheek and settled obediently into its familiar shape. Ace made an appreciative noise. "Oh, that is fucking magnificent." Elisa looked at her. "What?" "The hair." "What about it?" Ace gestured enthusiastically. "Look at us!" Elisa glanced toward the mirror. Then stopped. Three women. Three utterly unreasonable hair colors. Neon-orange. Neon-pink. Ice-blue. All perfectly intact despite an outrageous Halloween party, an exhausting return home, showers, sleep, and enough affectionate rearrangement of the bedding to have thoroughly tested the patience of ordinary cosmetics. Elisa studied their reflection. Then smiled. "Oh, dear." Ace laughed. "RIGHT?" Mai swept her pink dreadlocks back. "Lena warned us the color wouldn't release without the proper agent." "I remember," Elisa said. "She also said the hairstyle would recover after being disturbed." "I remember that too." Ace reached over and deliberately ruffled Elisa's hair. Elisa stared. "Ace." "Scientific research." "Darling." "Very important research." Mai caught Ace's wrist before she could conduct a second experiment. "Leave her alone." Ace looked offended. "I'm improving our understanding of ChromeLock V2." "You are trying to annoy Elisa." "Multidisciplinary research." Elisa laughed. Then caught Ace's face between her hands and kissed her. Ace answered immediately. The joke fell away for a moment. Elisa drew her closer, enjoying the familiar warmth and the ridiculous happiness of waking somewhere she felt completely welcome. When they separated, Ace looked remarkably pleased with the outcome of her experiment. "Excellent research." Mai shook her head. "Hopeless." Elisa smiled. "She's rather lovely, though." "Unfortunately," Mai agreed. Ace turned. "EXCUSE ME?" Mai leaned down and kissed her. It was meant to be a brief answer. Ace had other ideas. She caught Mai's hand, held her close, and gave the kiss considerably more attention than its original purpose required. Elisa watched with warm amusement. Eventually Mai drew back. "Happy?" Ace considered. "Getting there." Elisa burst out laughing. "Good heavens, woman. We've barely woken up." "And?" "And some of us might appreciate coffee before you begin making unreasonable demands." Ace grinned. "Coffee is a reasonable demand." "Then we're agreed." Mai glanced toward the clock. It was past one in the afternoon. She stared. Then looked again. "Oh." Elisa followed her gaze. "My goodness." Ace stretched luxuriously. "Perfectly respectable time." "For what?" Mai asked. "Breakfast." "It's afternoon." "Late breakfast." Elisa smiled. "Or lunch." Ace turned toward her. "Why choose?" Mai closed her eyes. "Of course." For a little while longer, nobody made any serious attempt to leave the bed. There were advantages to an unusually large bedroom. And an unusually large bed. And the fact that the three women in it were very comfortable with one another. Elisa sat with her back against the pillows while Ace settled sideways across her lap. Mai remained close, idly rearranging one of her dreadlocks. Ace looked up. "You're thinking." Elisa stroked her orange hair. "Am I?" "Yes." "How terribly inconvenient." "About what?" Elisa considered. "Last night." Ace smiled. "Good night." "An extraordinary night." Mai's expression softened. "Wakako certainly knows how to host a party." "And apparently how to arrange a murder," Elisa added. Ace laughed. "Best fucking Halloween ever." Elisa shook her head. "Only you could describe an evening involving an imperial court, a staged murder, several astonishing costumes, and that much sake as a normal social engagement." "I didn't say normal." "No." "I said best." "An important distinction." Mai laughed. Then noticed Elisa's expression. "What?" Elisa glanced around the room. At the familiar things on the shelves. The soft blanket resting in its accustomed place. Shammy's belongings exactly where they had always been. Nothing displaced. Nothing treated as expendable. Then she looked back at Mai. "Thank you for letting me stay." Ace sat up. "Elisa." "What?" "You were invited." "I know." "And you said yes." "I remember." "So stop thanking us like we lent you a fucking parking space." Elisa stared at her. Then laughed. "Oh, darling." Mai reached for Elisa's hand. "Ace has a point. Rather inelegantly expressed, but a point nonetheless." "Fucking thank you," Ace muttered. Elisa smiled and squeezed Mai's fingers. "I know I'm welcome." "Good." "It simply means something to me." Mai's smile softened. "Then we're glad." Ace looked toward Shammy's familiar corner of the room. "Besides, Shammy's going to demand the whole story." Elisa raised an eyebrow. "Is she?" "Absolutely." Mai nodded. "Probably with illustrations." Elisa began laughing again. "Well, that's a report I shall have to prepare very carefully." Ace's grin became wicked. "I can help." "No, darling. You most certainly cannot." "Oppression." "Self-preservation." Mai leaned across them and kissed Elisa. When she drew back, she remained close enough that Elisa could feel her smile. "Now. Food?" Ace's stomach answered. Loudly. All three women looked down. A moment of silence followed. Then Elisa began laughing so hard that Ace had to hold her upright. Mai sighed. "There's our answer." --- The dining area contained the familiar evidence of a household that had survived a major social event. Somebody had tidied. Somebody else had immediately used the cleared space to begin another project. A basket of Halloween accessories stood near the storage-room door. Brenda's carefully assembled collection of costume fittings occupied one end of the dining table. Two mugs sat abandoned beside an open technical display. And a note had been placed on the coffee machine. COFFEE IS NOT FOOD. — MAI Underneath, in a different hand: UNPROVEN. — BRENDA And below that: STOP ARGUING WITH THE COFFEE MACHINE. — IRIS Ace read the note. Then began laughing. "Beautiful." Mai stared. "I was asleep for six hours." Elisa looked toward the handwriting. "Apparently civilization deteriorated rapidly." Ace grinned. "That's what happens without strong leadership." Mai pointed at the kitchen. "Food." "Yes, darling." "Actual food." "I KNOW." They found Iris and Brenda in the living area. Iris had changed into comfortable clothes but still wore the chrome-and-gold ChromeLock styling that belonged to Nova. Brenda's chrome-and-brass-yellow hair was equally intact. Both had removed their professional contacts and face meshes for sleep. The result was a slightly surreal combination of familiar faces and spectacularly unfamiliar hair. Brenda looked up from her agent. Then stared at the three approaching women. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Ace spread her arms. "Good afternoon!" Iris took one look at their hair. Then at her own. And began laughing. "Apparently nobody's going to be inconspicuous today." Elisa accepted a coffee. "An excellent observation." Brenda pointed toward the kitchen. "There's food. Marco sent over enough to feed a small army." Mai looked relieved. "Bless that man." "Already thanked him." "Good." Ace opened one of the containers. Then stopped. "OH." Brenda grinned. "Yeah." "OH, FUCK." Iris glanced toward Elisa. "She found the pastries." Elisa smiled. "A momentous occasion." Ace removed a pastry. Examined it. Then looked toward Mai. "Marriage was an excellent decision." Mai raised an eyebrow. "Because?" "Access to people who bring us breakfast." Brenda burst out laughing. "That's the worst wedding vow I've ever heard." Ace bit into the pastry. Then answered around it. "Still counts." It was nearly two before anybody mentioned Wild Muses seriously. Which, considering Ace had spent the final moments before sleep attempting to discuss it, was an impressive display of restraint. Naturally, Ace broke it. She put down her second cup of coffee. Looked around the table. And grinned. "So." Mai didn't even look up. "No." "I haven't said anything." "You're about to say Wild Muses." Ace stared. "How the fuck do you keep doing that?" "Practice." Brenda leaned back. "Come on, Mai. You know she's been thinking about it since waking up." "She's been thinking about breakfast since waking up." "Two things," Ace corrected. "I'm capable of two things." Iris looked skeptical. Ace pointed at her. "Don't." Elisa smiled into her coffee. Mai finally put down her agent. "All right. We should review tonight." Ace straightened. "YES." "But before anybody starts improvising arrangements for other people—" Ace slumped. "Here we go." "—we establish what was actually agreed." Brenda looked toward Iris. "Administrator voice." Iris nodded. "Excellent." Ace sighed. "Fucking terrifying household." Mai smiled. "You're welcome." Iris touched the display above the dining table. A rotating image appeared. Six silhouettes, each outlined in a different color, stood beneath a name rendered in brilliant violet. WILD MUSES Below the title were three smaller panels. CONVERSATION. PERFORMANCE. PRIVATE INVITATION. Ace looked at it with the satisfaction of somebody examining a particularly successful explosion. "Now that," she announced, "is fucking beautiful." Brenda nodded. "The design works." "Thank you." "I was talking about mine." "Still counts." Iris expanded the first panel. "Before tonight gets completely out of hand, I want to make certain nobody has misunderstood the idea." Elisa looked interested. "Do explain." "The cards aren't bookings. They're invitations to propose something. A conversation, a performance, or a private encounter. Anyone can suggest an idea, and the woman receiving it decides whether she's interested." Ace nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes." "No automatic acceptance. No compulsory participation. No requirement to follow the suggested card literally." "Yes." "And Performance doesn't mean six women standing on a stage performing on command." Ace looked horrified. "Fuck no." Brenda grinned. "Imagine trying to make Dalia perform on command." Mai looked up. "Try it." Brenda laughed. "See?" Elisa examined the display. "Then the cards are really a way to encourage people to be inventive." "Exactly," Iris said. "Somebody might use a Conversation card to ask a ridiculous question. Somebody else might suggest a dance, a demonstration, or an improvised little challenge. A Private Invitation lets somebody express a more personal interest." "But doesn't grant anything," Mai added. "Correct." "And the ordinary professional arrangements remain intact." "Correct." Ace looked from one woman to another. "Can we stop making it sound like a fucking tax seminar?" Elisa laughed. "Darling, you do rather need rules for an evening designed to encourage bad decisions." "Good decisions," Ace corrected. "Interesting decisions." "Better." Mai turned the display toward her. "All right, then. Show us something interesting." Ace looked at the three panels. Then grinned. "Conversation." Brenda leaned forward. "Go on." Ace looked directly at Elisa. "What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done without getting caught?" Elisa calmly finished her coffee. "Darling, if I answered that, it rather defeats the achievement." Brenda collapsed against Iris, laughing. Ace stared. Then pointed at Elisa. "SEE? PERFECT!" Mai was laughing too. "Fine. That's a good example." "Thank you." "What about Performance?" Brenda raised her hand. "Oh, I've got one." Iris looked suspicious. "Of course you have." Brenda turned toward Ace. "I challenge you to spend an entire minute in the same room as an attractive woman without making a filthy remark." Silence. Ace stared. Elisa covered her mouth. Mai closed her eyes. Then Brenda began counting. "One." "FUCK YOU." "Two." "That's not fair!" "Three." "You're sabotaging the scientific process!" Iris laughed so hard she had to grab Brenda's arm. Brenda stopped counting. "Failed." Ace threw her hands up. "THE RULES WERE UNCLEAR!" Elisa leaned forward. "And Private Invitation?" Mai smiled. "That's where things become more interesting." Ace looked at her. "Oh?" Mai met her eyes. "It depends entirely on the person doing the inviting." Something in her expression made Ace stop joking for a moment. Then smile. Elisa watched the exchange. And smiled too. "Ah," she said. "Now I see the appeal." --- The holo call came from Shammy. Ace answered before the second chime. "MY QUEEN!" Shammy appeared above the table, her silver-white hair already showing signs of its familiar electrical enthusiasm. "Good afternoon, Red." Nadia leaned into view. "Is she always like this after waking up?" Mai answered from the table. "Worse." Ace looked betrayed. "You're all conspiring against me." "Obviously," Nadia said. Panam appeared behind them. "Did somebody say conspiracy?" Brenda grinned. "You're just in time." "Excellent." Shammy looked around the safehouse through the camera. Then saw Elisa. Her expression warmed immediately. "Hello, beautiful." Elisa smiled. "Hello, darling." "Sleep well?" "Wonderfully." Ace leaned toward the holo. "She stayed with us." Shammy's smile widened. "I know." Ace blinked. "You know?" Mai laughed. "Of course she knows." Elisa raised an eyebrow. "Have you been discussing my sleeping arrangements?" Shammy looked entirely innocent. "Not in detail." Panam burst out laughing. Nadia regarded Elisa. "Was it nice?" Elisa smiled. "Very." Shammy's expression softened. "Good. I'm glad." For a moment, Ace simply looked at her. Shammy noticed. Of course she did. The smile that passed between them was quieter than the surrounding chaos. It belonged to a relationship much older and deeper than the practical business of tonight's work. Then Shammy said: "I'll be there soon." Ace brightened. "Good." "And Panam, Nadia, and Imani are coming too." Mai nodded. "We'll have everything ready." Panam looked toward the display. "Is that the Wild Muses artwork?" Brenda grinned. "Finished this morning." Panam studied it. Then smiled. "That's going to cause trouble." Ace looked delighted. "Thank you." "That wasn't entirely a compliment." "Still counts." --- At Nadia's Watson studio, Imani was examining the same advertisement. She'd been quiet during most of the conversation. Not withdrawn. Thinking. Her cover identity, Anna, had been deliberately built without the sort of theatrical excess that made some of the others impossible to overlook. Anna could enter a room without demanding that every eye turn toward her. Then, when she chose, she could become the most interesting person at the table. Imani liked that. She also liked the possibility of doing something unexpected. She turned toward Nadia. "Do you know what you want to do tonight?" Nadia considered. "Not exactly." "Really?" "No. I have ideas. But I want to see what people bring me." Shammy smiled. "Same." Imani looked at Panam. "And you're comfortable with the cards?" Panam nodded. "Provided everybody remembers what they are." "Suggestions." "Exactly. Nobody buys an artist's attention by waving a pretty card." Nadia laughed. "Unless it's a particularly good card." Panam looked at her. Nadia smiled. "I said attention, Owner. Not agreement." "Good distinction." Shammy leaned against Nadia's shoulder. "Someone might surprise us." Panam smiled at both women. "I hope so." She reached out, caught Nadia's hand, and kissed her. Then Shammy's. Imani watched the exchange with affectionate amusement. "You three are disgustingly happy." Nadia grinned. "Yes." Shammy nodded. "Very." Panam looked pleased. "Problem?" "None whatsoever." Imani checked the time. "Then perhaps we should get moving." --- At three thirty, a message arrived from Kiro. **KIRO**: On my way. Don't let anybody touch my equipment. Mai read it. Then replied. **MAI**: Everything is where you left it. A moment later: **KIRO**: That is NOT the same as nobody touching it. Mai smiled. **MAI**: Ace has been supervised. The answer came immediately. **KIRO**: GOOD. Ace, reading over Mai's shoulder, looked scandalized. "OH, FUCK OFF." Mai laughed. "You have a reputation." "A magnificent reputation." "For touching things." "Scientific curiosity." "For breaking things." "Unproven." Brenda called from the dining table. "Would you like the evidence?" Ace turned. "TRAITOR!" --- In Pacifica, Lena was finishing an inspection of a newly completed outfit when the advertisement appeared on her agent. She glanced at it. Then stopped working. Six silhouettes. Three kinds of invitation. A large and exceptionally mischievous title. WILD MUSES — TONIGHT AT LIZZIE'S. Lena enlarged the image. Read the description. Then smiled. A slow smile. The sort that Marco had learned to recognize. He was in the adjoining room when she called. "Darling?" "Yes?" "Are we busy tonight?" Marco considered. "Are we?" "That's what I'm asking." He appeared in the doorway. "No appointments. No deliveries. Nothing that can't wait." "Good." He looked at her. Then at the advertisement. Then back. "Oh." Lena smiled. "Oh?" "That expression." "What expression?" "The one that usually means I'm about to discover you've made plans without consulting me." Lena laughed. "I haven't made any plans." "Really?" "Not yet." Marco approached and looked at the advertisement. He studied the six silhouettes. Then the three invitation categories. Then read the description again. "Wild Muses?" "Yes." "At Lizzie's?" "Yes." He looked toward his wife. "And?" Lena smiled. "Would you like to go?" Marco considered her. They'd spent years keeping other people's lives functioning. Repairs. Commissions. Deadlines. Visits. Emergencies. Some real. Some invented by clients who believed their own importance constituted a natural disaster. An entire evening with nothing urgent to fix was rare. An entire evening doing something simply because they wanted to was rarer still. He looked at Lena. "With you?" "Naturally." "Then yes." She smiled. "Good." He studied the advertisement once more. "Any idea what we'd be getting ourselves into?" Lena shook her head. "Not precisely." Marco laughed. "That's unusually reckless of you." "I thought we might enjoy a little recklessness." He stepped closer. Caught her at the waist. "Darling." "Yes?" "I married you for your excellent judgment." "Did you?" "And your extraordinary ability to make other people look beautiful." "How kind." "And because you occasionally do something absolutely outrageous." Lena's smile widened. "Occasionally?" "Well. More often than the general public realizes." She laughed. Then kissed him. Marco answered with enthusiasm. When they separated, he looked toward the advertisement again. "Should I make a reservation?" Lena shook her head. "No." "Why not?" "Because I don't want to know exactly what we're going to do." He regarded her. Then smiled. "Oh." She raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Nothing." "Marco." He laughed. "Just admiring my wife." "Good." She caught his hand. "Now help me choose something to wear." Marco looked toward her wardrobe. Then at her. Then began grinning. "Oh, this is going to be a very interesting evening." --- Back at the Watson safehouse, preparations were becoming more complicated. Not because anything had gone wrong. Because there were too many women with opinions. And several of those opinions were mutually incompatible. Brenda stood in front of a wardrobe display. "No." Iris folded her arms. "It's elegant." "It's boring." "It's professional." "Exactly." Iris looked at her. Brenda grinned. "We're going to Lizzie's, gorgeous, not presenting quarterly financial results." Elisa, passing behind them, laughed. Iris considered the selected outfit again. Then looked at Brenda. "What do you suggest?" Brenda's grin widened. "Oh, I have ideas." Iris sighed. "Of course you do." Ten minutes later, Nova and Vega's outfits had changed considerably. Not their relationship to one another. That remained exactly what their professional identities required: two accomplished women, recognizable as a visually coordinated duo, but neither relatives nor publicly presented as a romantic couple. Their mirrored hair colors did most of the visual work. Chrome-and-gold for Nova. Chrome-and-brass-yellow for Vega. Later, their white and black void lenses would complete the effect. For now, Iris regarded Brenda's selection. Then smiled. "That's better." Brenda looked triumphant. "Fucking right it is." --- Kiro arrived carrying a storage case and looking remarkably pleased with herself. The armored street entrance recognized her and opened. The upper door did not. Mai went to it and manually released the lock from inside when Kiro reached the landing. Kiro entered. Looked around. Then stopped. Ace was standing in front of a mirror with Elisa. Both were laughing. Mai closed the upper door behind Kiro. "Hello." Kiro looked at Ace. Then Elisa. Then Mai. Then back at Ace. "Oh, that's obscene." Ace grinned. "What?" "The colors." Elisa smiled. "Apparently we're a chart." "You're a fucking hazard warning." Mai laughed. Kiro set down her case. Then caught Mai's hand and kissed her. Mai returned the greeting. Briefly. Warmly. With the familiar ease of women who had never needed much ceremony between them. Kiro drew back. "Missed you." "It's been a few hours." "Still counts." Mai smiled. "Of course." Then Kiro looked toward the spare bedroom where her equipment was stored. "Right." Ace raised an eyebrow. "Right what?" "Deja." "Ah." "Come on." Mai followed. Deja's preparation was not an improvised makeover. Everything had a place. The face mesh. The contacts. The clothing. The accessories. The carefully maintained equipment that let Kiro step into her human cover without compromising her ordinary identity. The ChromeLock V2 had preserved the dark venom-green hair from Halloween. In shadow, it looked almost black. Under the dressing lights, its deep green became unmistakable. Kiro checked the shape in the mirror. Then nodded. "Good." Mai watched from the doorway. "Everything holding?" "Perfectly." "The mesh?" "Clean." "Contacts?" "Ready." Kiro fitted the face mesh carefully. The changes were subtle enough to remain believable and comprehensive enough to conceal her ordinary features. Then she inserted the warm amber-brown contacts. Mai watched Kiro's reflection become Deja. A softer face. Gentler first impression. The same unmistakable intelligence beneath it. And, importantly, the same natural voice. Kiro turned. "Well?" Mai smiled. "Beautiful." Deja's expression softened. "Thank you." She changed into an ivory outfit whose elegance made the dark green hair even more striking. Then she picked up the matching collar. Mai approached. "Would you like help?" Deja handed it to her. "Yes." Mai secured it with practiced care. Then checked its fit. Deja touched the familiar ivory band. Satisfied. Finally, she picked up the leash. Held it for a moment. Then offered the handle to Mai. Mai accepted. The gesture was simple. Personal. Chosen. Nothing about it reduced Deja's right to make her own decisions. She remained the woman who decided what happened next. Mai simply had the privilege of holding the other end. Deja looked at her. Then smiled sweetly. "Now, are you planning to keep staring, or are you going to kiss me?" Mai laughed. "Impatient." "Very." Mai stepped closer and kissed her. Deja answered without hesitation. When they separated, her smile had become thoroughly wicked. "Much better." Mai shook her head. "You are impossible." "Learning from excellent company." --- By late afternoon, the safehouse was busy again. Panam, Shammy, Nadia, and Imani arrived together from Nadia's studio. Ace opened the upper armored door manually when they reached it. She barely managed to step back before Shammy caught her in an enormous embrace. Ace laughed. "FUCK!" "Hello, Red." "Hello, gorgeous." Shammy bent and kissed her. Then turned toward Mai. Mai welcomed her just as warmly. For a while, the three held one another without needing to say very much. A night apart had not threatened anything. Nor had the extraordinary collection of people who loved them. The Triad remained what it had always been. Ace. Mai. Shammy. Together. And, when they finally separated, Shammy turned back toward Nadia and Panam with a smile that made it perfectly clear where else her heart belonged. Nadia caught her hand. Panam came closer. The three exchanged warm kisses. Ace watched them. Then looked toward Mai. Mai smiled. Ace grinned. "Well, that's disgustingly adorable." Panam laughed. "You're one to talk." Nadia looked at her. "Especially after last night." Elisa approached. "Oh, don't encourage her." Shammy turned. "Elisa!" Elisa smiled and stepped into her embrace. "Hello, darling." Shammy held her close. "Sleep well?" "Wonderfully." Ace looked delighted. "SEE?" Nadia began laughing. Panam sighed. "It's going to be a long night." "GOOD," Ace announced. The next part of the afternoon belonged to preparation. Not rushing. Not scrambling. Real preparation. Mandi's orange hair needed no reapplication, but Ace checked the black contacts, the cover voice, and the expensive outfit Lena had provided. She kept her own face. No mesh. The distinctive voice was sufficient to make Mandi sound unlike Ace while leaving every bit of Ace's irreverent personality intact. Mai prepared Dalia separately. Her neon-pink dreadlocks fell into their familiar arrangement. She checked the bright emerald-green reflective contacts and the lower, smoke-rough cover voice. Then the fitted outfit. Then the thigh-high boots. Then, finally, the menthol lollipops. Ace watched the process. "You're taking those?" Dalia looked at her. "Of course." "How many?" "Enough." "Define enough." Dalia smiled. "More than you're allowed to steal." Mandi stared. Then grinned. "Oh, you're going to be fucking unbearable tonight." "Yes." "Excellent." Imani prepared Anna with more restraint. Her cover didn't require making herself the loudest person in the room. It required becoming exactly the woman she wanted to present. Sera and Nadia attended to their own preparations, with Panam available for practical questions and the occasional deliberately distracting kiss. Nova and Vega reassembled their professional appearances. Bea checked her ice-blue hair and finished the styling that made Elisa's familiar face hide behind face-mesh, for the evening, to an entirely different social world. By the time they were finished, the safehouse had become a spectacular collection of color, mirrors, expensive fabric, and increasingly outrageous commentary. Brenda looked around. Then grinned. "Fuck." Iris raised an eyebrow. "Problem?" "No." "Then?" "We're going to be impossible to ignore." Mandi laughed. "That's the fucking point." --- Before departure, Panam gathered the women around the dining table. Not for a lecture. For a final understanding. She looked toward the six featured participants. Sera. Nadia. Anna. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. "Right. Everybody knows the idea." Anna nodded. "Three card types." "Yes." "Suggestions, not commands," Deja added. "Exactly." Mandi grinned. "And a very good excuse to misbehave." Panam looked at her. "Within whatever each of you actually wants." "Obviously." "Good." Dalia raised a hand. "One thing." Panam nodded. "Go on." "The cards don't make us one professional group with identical arrangements." "Correct." Dalia glanced toward Deja. "And they certainly don't make everybody one of your pets." Panam smiled. "No. The Wild Muses is tonight's event. My Stable is something else." Sera nodded. Nadia leaned comfortably against Panam. Mandi grinned. Anna regarded the display thoughtfully. Deja's hand rested near Dalia's. Everybody understood the distinction. Nova, Vega, and Bea were working tonight too, but the three of them were not being absorbed into the six-woman Wild Muses presentation. The distinction was about the event, not Stable membership. Nova and Vega were both Panam’s pets, just as Mandi, Sera, and Nadia were. Bea was not. Dalia and Deja remained independent, with their own chosen arrangement between them. The six featured Muses were an invitation-card programme. Panam’s Stable was a different arrangement, and its boundaries would stay exactly where they belonged. And Panam's special conditions for the artists remained unchanged. Sera and Nadia would decide whom they wished to meet. Five million eddies purchased an agreed private conversation with either woman. Nothing further. If genuine mutual interest developed, any private engagement would require its own separate discussion, offer, and acceptance. No customer could wave a Private Invitation card and bypass that process. Panam looked at her two lovers. "Comfortable?" Sera smiled. "Yes." Nadia nodded. "Very, Owner." "Good." Then Panam turned toward the others. "Anything anybody wants to change?" Mandi considered. Dalia narrowed her eyes. "Don't." Mandi looked offended. "I haven't said anything." "Your expression has." Deja smiled sweetly. "She's trying to think of a fourth card." Panam sighed. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Mandi brightened. "Actually—" "NO," said half the room. Ace burst out laughing. --- They left Watson as the evening lights began to take over from the afternoon. The armored upper door was secured behind them. The street-level entrance recognized the departing household and opened. Outside, Night City was already busy. Traffic crawled beneath enormous advertisements. A passing AV threw blue light across the pavement. Somewhere nearby, an argument about parking had escalated into an argument about ancestry. Ace listened for a moment. Then grinned. "Home." Mai shook her head. "Unfortunately." Shammy laughed. Her hair lifted slightly. Panam caught her hand. Nadia took the other. The three walked close together toward their transport. Mandi and Dalia were already trading increasingly outrageous suggestions about what a sufficiently inventive Conversation card might contain. Deja listened. Then offered one of her own. Dalia stopped. Looked at her. And began laughing. Mandi stared. "FUCK." Deja smiled innocently. "What?" "That's absolutely filthy." "Thank you." Anna walked beside them. Quiet. Observant. Then she said something in her wonderfully understated cover voice. Mandi stopped dead. Turned. And began laughing so hard that she had to catch Dalia's arm. Panam looked back. "What?" Anna smiled. "Nothing." Panam stared. Then shook her head. "Oh, this is going to be a fucking disaster." Sera smiled. "A wonderful one." --- At Lizzie's, Suzy Q had been watching the evening's preparations with mounting satisfaction. The cards were ready. The bar staff had been briefed. The private suites were prepared. Lisa and her Mox security team had reviewed the expected crowd. There would be no advance bookings for the Wild Muses challenges. Guests would approach through the ordinary arrangements, make their suggestions, and see whether any of the women were interested. Suzy had made sure that the public advertisement promised precisely that. Possibility. Not entitlement. The club's lighting had been adjusted to complement the six featured women without turning them into a staged exhibition. Conversation areas were arranged for people who preferred to speak. The dance floor remained open. The private lounges were ready. And the cards themselves were displayed in three elegant sets. Conversation. Performance. Private Invitation. Suzy picked one up. Read it. Then smiled. "Not bad." Lisa appeared beside her. "Everything ready?" "Almost." "Expect trouble?" Suzy looked toward the entrance. "Of course." Lisa grinned. "Good." Suzy turned. "Good?" "I'd hate to be bored." The first arrival notification appeared on her agent. Suzy glanced down. Then smiled. "Here we go." Mandi entered first. Naturally. Her neon-orange hair caught the entrance lighting and practically announced her presence before she opened her mouth. Which was fortunate. Because what came out of her mouth was: "FUCK, THIS LOOKS GOOD!" Suzy closed her eyes. "Good evening, Mandi." Mandi grinned. "SUZY!" She crossed the distance and hugged her. Suzy laughed. "Careful." "What?" "I'd like my ribs intact." "Overrated." Dalia followed, the bright pink dreadlocks and emerald reflections of her lenses impossible to miss. Deja walked beside her in ivory, the leash resting comfortably in Dalia's hand. Anna entered with easy confidence. Sera and Nadia arrived close to Panam. And behind them came Nova, Vega, and Bea, every bit as spectacular in their own distinct ways. Once they had reached Panam’s usual area, the five women of her Stable checked their collars and offered her their leashes: Sera, Nadia, Mandi, Nova, and Vega. Panam took each handle in turn, making room for them around her rather than lining them up for inspection. She was their owner by choice, not the club’s manager of everybody in the building. Dalia and Deja stayed together, Deja’s ivory leash in Dalia’s hand. Bea settled in with her friends without a leash. For a moment, Suzy simply looked at them. Then laughed. "Oh, fuck." Panam raised an eyebrow. "Problem?" "No." Suzy looked from one face to another. Then toward the advertisement above the bar. Six silhouettes. Six featured women. Three kinds of invitation. And a club full of people who had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into. Suzy smiled. "No problem at all." Lisa came forward. "Welcome, ladies." Mandi looked at her. Then grinned. "Ready?" Lisa folded her arms. "For what?" Mandi's smile became positively wicked. "An interesting evening." Lisa considered her. Then looked toward Panam. Panam sighed. "Don't look at me." Suzy laughed. And somewhere beyond the entrance, the first guests were already arriving. The music was playing. The drinks were being poured. The cards were waiting. Nothing important had happened yet. Not a single Wild Muse had accepted a challenge. Not one conversation had begun. Not one private invitation had been considered. The evening was still young. And nobody — least of all the six women whose names were displayed above the bar — had any intention of rushing it. --- ## Chapter 2 — The First Cards Friday, November 1, 2077 — Lizzie's, Early Evening The first mistake was made at 18:47. It was not a serious mistake. Nobody was injured. Nothing exploded. No expensive furniture was damaged. Nevertheless, Suzy Q considered it an early warning. Because Mandi had found the cards. And she was reading them. Out loud. With commentary. "CONVERSATION," Mandi announced, holding up the first card. "For people who can actually fucking talk." Dalia looked over her shoulder. "That excludes you." "EXCUSE ME?" "You generally begin with a proposition and work backwards." "Efficient!" Deja smiled sweetly. "Most conversations are considered more successful when the other person gets a turn." Mandi stared at her. Then burst out laughing. "FUCK! You two are impossible." Anna, seated nearby, glanced up from her drink. "Technically, you're the only one shouting." Mandi turned. "Oh, not you too!" Anna raised her glass. "Conversation." Sera laughed. Her silver-white hair lifted in a delighted ripple. Nadia leaned against Panam and looked at the second card. "Performance." She considered it. "That one could be interesting." Mandi grinned. "Depends who's performing." "Exactly." Dalia picked up the third card. "Private Invitation." She studied the wording. Then nodded. "This is actually rather good." Suzy, approaching from behind them, stopped. "Good?" Dalia turned. "Yes." Suzy looked suspicious. "Why?" "Because it says invitation, not entitlement." Suzy smiled. "Precisely." Mandi held up her card. "And because somebody finally invented an organized way for Night City to make indecent suggestions." Suzy looked at her. "Mandi." "What?" "Please don't make me regret agreeing to this." Mandi considered the request. Then grinned. "I'll try." Suzy closed her eyes. "Fuck." The cards were beautifully made. Brenda had refused the idea of disposable paper. Not because she considered paper inferior. Because a nightclub full of enthusiastic people, expensive drinks, and occasionally spectacularly poor judgment was a terrible environment for anything intended to survive more than one evening. Instead, she'd designed thin reusable cards with a flexible illuminated edge. Violet for Conversation. Electric blue for Performance. Deep crimson for Private Invitation. Each carried the name of its category and a discreet club identifier. The actual suggestion belonged to the person offering it. The cards weren't contracts. They weren't purchases. And they certainly weren't permission to touch anybody. A guest could offer a card to one of the featured women, provided she was accepting approaches at that moment. The woman could accept the idea, change it, negotiate something different, or decline outright. A particularly entertaining suggestion might turn into a public game. An unusually thoughtful one might become a fascinating conversation. A Private Invitation might lead to something more personal. Or nowhere whatsoever. Suzy had made the rules visible. Lisa had made them enforceable. And Panam had made absolutely certain that the arrangement couldn't be confused with the existing booking conditions for her artists. Sera and Nadia remained free to engage with the evening's public games when they wished. But a private conversation with either artist still required the agreed five-million-eddie fee, their individual acceptance, and Panam's established arrangements. Any later private engagement required an entirely separate offer. Not one of those conditions was going to change because a rich idiot had discovered an illuminated red rectangle. Suzy had considered putting that sentence on the advertisement. Lisa had voted in favor. Panam had laughed for nearly a minute. In the end, they'd settled for something more professional. A CARD OPENS A POSSIBILITY. THE PERSON DECIDES WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. Mandi read it. Then nodded approvingly. "Very good." Suzy looked surprised. "Really?" "Absolutely." "Nothing to complain about?" "One thing." "Of course." Mandi pointed at the bottom. "Should say the person decides whether you get lucky." Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. "Mandi." "What?" "You've just made an excellent rule sound like an advertisement for a discount brothel." Anna smiled into her drink. "That's a difficult achievement." Deja nodded. "Especially in Lizzie's." Suzy burst out laughing. Mandi looked around. Then grinned. "Fine. Keep the boring version." At 19:06, Lisa opened the evening. Not with a speech. Suzy had firmly forbidden speeches. Especially from Mandi. Instead, the main display behind the bar changed. The familiar club graphics dissolved into six distinctive portraits. Sera. Nadia. Anna. Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Their names appeared beneath the title. WILD MUSES For several seconds, the room watched. Then the three card symbols appeared. Conversation. Performance. Private Invitation. A woman standing at the bar nudged her companion. "What's that?" Her companion read the description. Then laughed. "Oh, fuck. That's dangerous." Across the room, somebody raised a violet card. Then somebody else. The first proposals began arriving. And the six women discovered that Night City had considerably more imagination than most people gave it credit for. Or, at least, that certain residents had very interesting ideas about how to spend a Friday evening. Anna received the first serious proposal. This surprised nobody more than Anna. She had been standing near the bar, watching the first guests arrive, when a well-dressed woman approached with a violet card. Not a nervous woman. Not an especially bold one. Somebody who appeared perfectly comfortable in expensive surroundings without feeling the need to advertise it. "Anna?" Anna turned. "Yes?" The woman offered the card. "I have a question." Anna smiled. "Those are generally encouraged." "I hope so." Anna accepted the card. "Go on." The woman regarded her for a moment. Then asked: "What's the most expensive lie you've ever told?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Oh." "Too personal?" "Possibly." "I can ask something else." Anna considered her. Then smiled. "No. That's an interesting question." She looked at the card. Then back at its owner. "May I modify it?" "Certainly." "Two questions." The woman nodded. "All right." "What's the most expensive lie you've ever told?" The woman's smile widened. "And?" "What's the cheapest truth that cost you something?" For a moment, the woman said nothing. Then she laughed softly. "That's considerably better than my question." Anna took a sip of her drink. "I thought so." The woman pulled out a chair. "May I?" Anna nodded. "Please." The woman introduced herself as the owner of a small restoration business. Not the glamorous kind. She repaired old architectural fittings, decorative metalwork, obsolete instruments, and the occasional absurdly expensive antique purchased by somebody who had no understanding of how fragile old things could be. Anna listened. Genuinely interested. "So you spend your days repairing things people should have looked after better." "That describes approximately ninety percent of my work." "And the remaining ten?" "Convincing people that something old isn't automatically worthless." Anna smiled. "That sounds exhausting." "It can be." The woman considered her original question. Then answered. "The most expensive lie I ever told was that I could finish a commission in two weeks." Anna laughed. "How long did it take?" "Eleven months." "Jesus." "Exactly." "And the client?" "Still thinks it took three." Anna stared. Then began laughing. "That's magnificent." "Thank you." "Not the lie. The administrative achievement." The woman laughed too. They spent the next several minutes talking about work, ambition, and the extraordinary habit wealthy clients had of believing that paying more money should somehow alter the laws of physics. Then Anna returned to the second question. "The cheapest truth?" Her companion's smile faded slightly. Not unhappily. Thoughtfully. "I once told my father I didn't want the business he'd planned for me." Anna waited. "It cost me nothing to say it." "And?" "Six years before he spoke to me again." Anna didn't immediately answer. She let the silence exist. Then said: "That sounds expensive." The woman nodded. "It was." Anna looked toward the illuminated violet card resting between them. Then smiled. "That's a very good answer." The woman returned the smile. "And yours?" Anna considered. Then leaned a little closer. "The most expensive lie?" "Yes." "That I was perfectly happy doing exactly what everybody expected of me." Her companion studied her. Then nodded. "I understand that one." Anna smiled. "I thought you might." They stayed another twenty minutes. Not because the card required it. Because they were enjoying themselves. And when the woman eventually rose, she looked at Anna with genuine warmth. "Thank you." Anna returned the violet card. "No. Keep it." "Are you sure?" "Yes." The woman smiled. "Why?" Anna's answer was immediate. "Because you used it properly." From the other end of the bar, Mandi had been watching. She looked toward Panam. Then Anna. Then the departing woman. "Well, fuck." Panam raised an eyebrow. "What?" "That was actually beautiful." Panam smiled. "Yes." Mandi considered. Then looked down at the violet card in her hand. "Right." Dalia noticed. "Oh, dear." Mandi looked up. "What?" "You're thinking." "Sometimes!" "Usually followed by an incident report." Deja smiled. "Or an invoice." Mandi pointed at both of them. "FUCK YOU." A man passing behind them stopped. Considered the remark. Then looked toward the cards. "Is that a Performance invitation?" Dalia closed her eyes. Anna, returning to the group, began laughing. Mandi stared at the man. Then grinned. "Oh, sweetheart. You're going to fit right in." The man recovered quickly. Which was fortunate. Because Dalia had already begun looking at him with the expression of a woman deciding whether to laugh or charge admission. "Sorry," he said. "That sounded better in my head." Mandi grinned. "Most things do." He laughed. "Fair." "What's your actual proposition?" He held up a blue card. "Performance." Mandi leaned forward. "I'm listening." "Can you make somebody laugh without speaking?" Mandi considered. "Obviously." "Without touching them?" "Still obviously." "Within one minute?" Mandi narrowed her eyes. "Are you challenging me?" He smiled. "Yes." Dalia looked delighted. "Oh, this is good." Mandi pointed at her. "You're not helping." "Not supposed to." The man gestured toward a nearby table. "My friend has had an absolutely miserable week." Mandi glanced over. A woman in a silver jacket sat with her arms folded, staring into a cocktail as though it had personally disappointed her. She didn't appear particularly interested in the surrounding entertainment. Mandi looked back at the man. "Does she know about this?" "No." "Then ask her." He blinked. "Really?" "Really. I'm not going to spend a minute harassing somebody who wants to be left alone." Dalia smiled. "See? Occasionally she thinks." "FUCK OFF." The man approached his friend. They spoke briefly. She looked toward Mandi. Then shrugged. Finally, she smiled faintly and nodded. The man returned. "She says yes." Mandi grinned. "Excellent." She took the blue card. Then looked at Deja. "Time?" Deja checked the wall display. "Whenever you're ready." Mandi rolled her shoulders. Adjusted her collar. And walked toward the table. She stopped in front of the woman. Smiled. The woman smiled back. Mandi held up one finger. Then pointed toward the clock. The woman nodded. Mandi adopted an expression of intense concentration. Then carefully inspected the empty chair beside her. She walked around it. Examined it from several angles. Looked beneath it. Straightened. Shook her head with obvious disappointment. The woman raised an eyebrow. Mandi examined the chair again. Then looked toward the bartender. Pointed at the chair. Made an elaborate gesture indicating that something very large and very impressive was missing. The bartender, who had no idea what was happening, stared. Mandi sighed theatrically. Then produced the blue card and held it against the chair. She stepped back. Considered her work. And appeared horrified. The card was crooked. She straightened it. It slipped. She straightened it again. The woman began smiling. Mandi turned toward the clock. Thirty seconds. She looked back at the chair. Then at the woman. Finally, she lowered herself into the empty seat with exaggerated elegance. Crossed one leg over the other. Rested her chin on her hand. And gave the woman her most devastatingly seductive smile. The chair immediately tilted. Not because it was broken. Because Mandi had deliberately positioned herself halfway off the edge. She caught herself with a spectacularly undignified flail. The woman burst out laughing. Mandi straightened. Bowed. And looked toward Deja. "FORTY-TWO SECONDS," Deja announced. Mandi threw both hands into the air. "FUCKING YES!" The surrounding tables erupted. Dalia laughed so hard her lollipop nearly fell out. The woman in silver was still laughing when Mandi approached her. "Better?" She nodded. "Oh, God. Yes." "Good." Mandi leaned close enough to speak without competing with the music. "Whatever happened this week, I hope next week's less shit." The woman's expression softened. "Thank you." Mandi smiled. Then returned the blue card. "Keep it." The woman looked at the card. "Why?" "Because next time you can make me laugh." She laughed again. Mandi grinned. Mission accomplished. Suzy watched the entire performance from the bar. When Mandi returned, Suzy raised an eyebrow. "That was unexpectedly wholesome." Mandi looked offended. "Wholesome?" "Yes." "At Lizzie's?" "Apparently." Mandi considered. Then smiled wickedly. "Don't worry, Suzy. The night's young." Suzy sighed. "That is precisely what worries me." Deja received her own Performance card at 19:52. The woman offering it was a dancer. Not professionally, she explained. At least, not anymore. But she still missed the feeling of somebody understanding a rhythm without needing it explained. Deja listened carefully. "What are you proposing?" The woman smiled. "Thirty seconds without music." Deja tilted her head. "That's a peculiar request in a nightclub." "Exactly." Dalia looked interested. The woman continued. "I want to see whether you can convince somebody there's a beat when there isn't one." Deja considered. Then smiled. "One condition." "What's that?" "I choose who dances with me." "Of course." Deja turned toward Dalia. Dalia raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Deja offered her hand. "Come on." Dalia removed her lollipop. "You're certain?" Deja smiled. "Very." Dalia accepted. Lisa received the request to silence one small section of the dance floor. She looked at Suzy. Suzy looked toward Deja. Then smiled. "Thirty seconds?" Lisa nodded. "Apparently." "All right." The music faded in that section. Not throughout the club. Just enough to create a strange pocket of near-silence amid the surrounding bass. People turned. Curious. Deja stood facing Dalia. For several seconds, neither moved. Then Deja shifted her weight. Barely. Dalia watched. A second movement followed. Then a third. A subtle rhythm emerged. Not from the speakers. From Deja. Her shoulders. Her feet. The precise changes in balance. Dalia answered. Not by copying her. By finding the spaces between those movements and filling them. Deja smiled. Then changed the pattern. Dalia followed. For a moment, the two women moved in complete silence, each one reading the other with the confidence of people who had already learned how much could be communicated without words. Then Deja caught Dalia's hand. Turned beneath her arm. And emerged laughing. Dalia drew her close. Their eyes met. Deja leaned up and kissed her. Dalia answered. The kiss lasted only a moment, but it brought the movement to a natural conclusion. When they separated, the music returned. The surrounding tables applauded. The dancer who had offered the card was grinning. Deja turned toward her. "Well?" The woman laughed. "I could hear it." Deja smiled. "Good." "And I rather wish I'd been the one dancing with you." Dalia raised an eyebrow. Deja's expression remained beautifully innocent. "There's always another card." The woman laughed. "Oh, you're dangerous." Deja looked toward Dalia. Then smiled. "Excellent company." Dalia shook her head. "You're going to be impossible tonight." Deja kissed her cheek. "Already am." --- Nadia had been watching from beside Panam. She smiled. "That was beautiful." Panam nodded. "Yes." Sera stood close on Panam's other side. Her silver-white hair stirred in the warm air. "She listened to the silence." Nadia turned. "Exactly." Sera smiled. "And Dalia trusted her enough to follow." Panam looked toward the two women. Then back at her lovers. "You're both thinking about art again." Nadia grinned. "Always, Owner." Sera leaned down and kissed Panam. "Is that a problem?" Panam caught her close. "Not even slightly, sweetheart." Nadia watched them. Then smiled. "Good. Because I think I want a card." Panam raised an eyebrow. "Have something in mind?" "No." "Then?" Nadia's grin widened. "I want to see what somebody else comes up with." She didn't have to wait long. A man approached with a blue card. He looked perhaps forty, dressed in an expensive jacket that had seen enough actual use to suggest he wasn't wearing it merely for effect. He stopped a respectful distance away. "Nadia?" She turned. "Yes?" "May I offer you something?" She glanced at the card. "Performance?" "Yes." "What have you got?" He held up a small object. An old transit token. Scratched. Worn. Almost entirely obsolete. Nadia studied it. "Interesting." "It's been in my pocket for years." "Why?" He smiled. "That's part of the challenge." Nadia laughed. "All right." He placed the token on the table. "Make something from that." Nadia considered. "Anything?" "Anything." "How long?" "However long you want." "That doesn't sound much like a challenge." The man smiled. "Five minutes?" "Ten." "Agreed." Nadia picked up the token. Then looked at Panam. "Owner?" Panam smiled. "Have fun." Nadia leaned over and kissed her. "I intend to." Nadia didn't ask for a workshop. She asked for paper. A marker. A small cutting tool. And a strip of transparent adhesive film. Suzy supplied them. Then stood back. Curious. Nadia sat at a table with the transit token in front of her. The man watched from across the table. She turned the token over. Examined the scratches. Held it beneath the violet light. Then began drawing. Not a portrait. Not an illustration. A series of intersecting lines, each one beginning from a scratch on the token and extending outward across the paper. The old object became the center of something much larger. A map. Or perhaps the memory of one. As she worked, Nadia asked a question. "Where did you get it?" The man smiled. "An old station." "That narrows it down." "Pacifica." Nadia looked up. "Which part?" He told her. She nodded. Then continued. Another line. Another intersection. A small dark shape near one corner. The drawing began to resemble a city viewed from above. But not quite. Something was wrong with the streets. Some ended too soon. Others crossed where no road could possibly exist. The man leaned forward. "That's not the actual map." Nadia smiled. "No." "Then what is it?" "Where you remember going." He stopped. Nadia continued working. "People don't remember cities accurately. They remember the journeys that mattered." The man's smile faded. Not unhappily. Thoughtfully. Nadia watched him. Then asked: "Who were you meeting?" He looked at the token. A long silence followed. Finally he said: "My brother." Nadia nodded. She didn't ask whether the brother was alive. Didn't demand the story. Didn't turn the discovery into a performance of sympathy. She simply added one more line. This one ended at the old token. Then she placed the marker down. "Finished." The man studied the drawing. Several seconds passed. Then he smiled. "That's extraordinary." Nadia looked pleased. "Thank you." He glanced at the clock. "Nine minutes." "Plenty of time." "May I ask one thing?" "Of course." "Why didn't you ask what happened to him?" Nadia considered. Then answered: "Because you invited me to make something. You didn't invite me to take something from you." The man looked at her. Then slowly nodded. He reached for his token. Nadia stopped him. "Wait." She detached the token from the temporary arrangement and handed it back. Then rolled the drawing. "For you." He stared. "Really?" "Yes." "Can I pay you?" Nadia smiled. "You already gave me the challenge." "But—" She shook her head. "Keep it." For a moment he looked unable to speak. Then he accepted the drawing. "Thank you." Nadia smiled. "You're welcome." When she returned to Panam, Nadia was smiling differently. Not with the sharp delight she wore when she'd successfully provoked somebody. Something quieter. Panam noticed. "Good?" Nadia nodded. "Very." "Want to tell me?" Nadia looked back toward the table. The man was still sitting there. Holding the drawing. "I think I made something worth keeping." Panam smiled. Then kissed her. "That's my girl." Nadia leaned against her. "Yes, Owner." Sera watched the exchange. Then caught Nadia's hand. "Tell me about it later?" Nadia smiled. "Absolutely." By 20:35, the club had changed. Not physically. The lighting was the same. The music was the same. The drinks were just as expensive. But conversations were spreading between tables that ordinarily would never have acknowledged one another. People were discussing proposals. Comparing amusing refusals. Trying to think of something worth offering. A group near the bar had become engaged in a heated argument about whether a sufficiently elaborate compliment counted as Performance or Conversation. An older woman had used a violet card to ask Anna why people were frightened of being ordinary. The answer had apparently left three people talking for twenty minutes. A pair of dancers were discussing another silent challenge with Deja. Mandi had received a Performance invitation that she declined because it required standing on a table. Her reason was simple. "Sweetheart, I'm not damaging these shoes for your amusement." Dalia had rejected a Conversation card whose proposer spent three minutes describing himself before reaching the actual question. She returned the card with a smile. "You appear to have already enjoyed the conversation." Deja nearly choked on her drink. Suzy heard about that one. And laughed. Then Sera accepted her first card. The man offering it had been standing near Sera's table for several minutes. Not hovering. Not trying to interrupt. Simply waiting until she finished speaking with Panam and Nadia. When she looked toward him, he held up a violet card. Sera smiled. "Hello." "Good evening." "Have you got a question?" He nodded. "A difficult one, I'm afraid." Sera's hair stirred. "Oh, those are often the best." The man smiled. Then asked: "How do you know when a work of art is finished?" Sera regarded him. For a moment, the mischievous smile disappeared. Not because she disliked the question. Because she liked it. "Are you an artist?" "Sometimes." "What kind?" "Sound design." Sera brightened. "Oh!" He laughed. "That sounded encouraging." "It is." She considered the question. Then looked toward Panam. "Owner, may I borrow a moment?" Panam smiled. "Of course, sweetheart." The man gestured toward the violet card. "Would this be a private conversation?" Sera shook her head. "No. Just a few minutes here, if you'd like. If you want a proper private appointment, you'll need to arrange that separately with my Owner." "Understood." He seemed entirely comfortable with the distinction. Sera smiled. "Then tell me something." "Yes?" "Have you ever made a sound that was exactly what you wanted?" He thought about it. "Once or twice." "And then?" "I kept adjusting it." Sera laughed. "Why?" "Because I thought I could improve it." "Did you?" The man paused. Then smiled ruefully. "Usually not." Sera nodded. "Then perhaps that was the moment it was finished." He considered. "But what if you could make it better?" Sera looked around Lizzie's. At the changing lights. The dancers. The laughter. The intricate tangle of conversations. Then back. "You probably can." He waited. "But better isn't always more beautiful." The man smiled. "That's infuriatingly unhelpful." Sera burst out laughing. "Yes!" "And very possibly correct." "Also yes." He studied her for a moment. Then said: "Would you be willing to discuss this properly sometime?" Sera glanced toward Panam. Not asking permission to have an opinion. Simply acknowledging the established arrangements. "You can ask my Owner about a private conversation." He nodded. "Thank you." "And perhaps," Sera added, smiling, "bring me something you've decided is finished." The man's eyes brightened. "I think I will." "Good." He looked at the card in his hand. Then offered it. "May I leave you this?" Sera accepted. "Of course." When he walked away, she examined the violet rectangle. Nadia approached. "Well?" Sera smiled. "I think I just met somebody interesting." Panam joined them. "And?" Sera tucked the card away. "And I think he might have something worth showing me." Nadia leaned closer. "An artist?" "Sound designer." "Oh, wonderful." The two women immediately began discussing what a sound installation might look like if it were built around absence rather than sound. Panam watched them. Then sighed. Affectionately. "Here we go." At 20:58, the woman who'd spoken with Anna earlier returned. This time she carried a crimson card. Anna noticed immediately. Her smile appeared before the woman reached her. "Back again?" "Apparently." "Another expensive lie?" The woman laughed. "No." "Cheap truth?" "Possibly." Anna looked at the red card. "Ah." Her companion held it out. "I'd like to spend a little more time with you. Somewhere quieter." Anna considered. "Talking?" "To begin with." Anna's smile widened. "That's a remarkably sensible beginning." "I thought so." "And afterward?" The woman met her eyes. "Whatever we both want. If anything." Anna studied her for a moment. Then accepted the card. "That's a much better invitation than most people manage." Her companion laughed. "Is that a yes?" Anna looked toward the quieter lounge. Then back. "It's a yes to another conversation." "Good." "And after that?" "We'll see." Anna smiled. "Exactly." They went to Suzy to discuss the arrangements before moving to a quieter part of the club. No public announcement. No performance. Just two women who'd enjoyed talking and wanted to discover whether the conversation had somewhere else to go. Mandi watched them leave. Then regarded the remaining cards. "Well, fuck." Dalia raised an eyebrow. "What now?" "Anna's doing rather well." "She is." "That woman came back." "Apparently." "With a red card." "Yes." Mandi considered. Then grinned. "Fuck. I love this game." Dalia smiled. "It's not actually a game." Mandi looked offended. "Of course it is." "No. It's a way to give people choices." Mandi thought about that. Then nodded. "Fine." A pause. "A fucking excellent way to give people choices." Deja laughed. "Better." At 21:11, Lena and Marco arrived. They had dressed beautifully. Not formally. Not extravagantly. But with the unmistakable confidence of two people who had made a deliberate decision to enjoy an evening together. Lena wore a dark, close-fitting dress that moved elegantly with her. Marco had chosen a fitted jacket over a dark shirt, with boots comfortable enough to survive several hours of dancing. Neither carried a work bag. Suzy noticed immediately. "Lena." "Suzy." "Marco." "Good evening." Suzy looked at their hands. Then their shoulders. Then behind them. "Nothing to repair?" Marco laughed. "Absolutely nothing." "No tools?" "No." "Emergency fitting equipment?" Lena smiled. "Not even a needle." Suzy pressed a hand against her chest. "Oh, thank fuck." Marco grinned. "That bad?" "You have no idea how many people come here and start talking about work." Lena laughed. "Tonight we're doing nothing of the sort." Suzy looked delighted. "Excellent." She gestured toward the club. "Then go enjoy yourselves." Marco offered Lena his arm. "Shall we?" She accepted. "With pleasure." They stopped just inside the main room. Marco looked around. Then laughed softly. "Oh, my." Lena smiled. "Rather beautiful, isn't it?" The lighting had shifted toward violet and deep crimson. The cards glimmered across the tables. The dance floor was busy. Conversation had become the evening's unexpected attraction. And near the bar, a small woman with screaming neon-orange hair was arguing passionately with two women about whether a particularly elaborate insult could qualify as a Performance. Marco recognized her immediately. "Oh, dear." Lena followed his gaze. Then began smiling. "Ah." Mandi saw them. Stopped talking. Then lit up. "MARCO!" Several people turned. Marco closed his eyes. Lena burst out laughing. "Oh, darling." He opened one eye. "What?" "I think you've been noticed." Mandi was already approaching. Very quickly. Dalia watched her go. Then shook her head. "Poor man." Deja smiled. "He seems happy enough." Dalia considered. Then grinned. "Give her five minutes." Mandi reached Marco. Stopped. Looked him over. Then smiled so wickedly that Lena began laughing before anybody said anything. "Well, hello, handsome." Marco smiled. "Good evening, Mandi." Mandi looked toward Lena. "YOU BROUGHT HIM!" Lena raised an eyebrow. "He insisted." Marco glanced at her. "Did I?" "Enthusiastically." Mandi burst out laughing. "Fucking wonderful!" She caught Lena in an affectionate embrace. Lena returned it. Then Mandi turned back toward Marco. "Do I get a hug?" Marco opened his arms. "Of course." Mandi stepped into them. He caught her comfortably and laughed when she squeezed him. "Good to see you." "You too." When they separated, Mandi was still holding his hand. She looked toward the dance floor. Then back. "Tell me something." Marco smiled. "Yes?" "Can you dance?" Lena began laughing. Marco regarded Mandi. Then raised an eyebrow. "Can I dance?" "Yes." He glanced toward his wife. Lena nodded gravely. "A difficult technical question." Marco smiled. "Well." Mandi watched. He looked back at her. "Perhaps you should find out." Mandi's grin became enormous. "Oh, FUCK YES." Lena shook her head. "Go on, darling." Marco looked at her. "You're sure?" Lena smiled. "Enjoy yourself." He kissed her. Then allowed Mandi to lead him toward the music. Lena watched them. Smiling. She'd come here to enjoy an evening without obligations. Apparently, that was exactly what was going to happen. Bea approached from the bar. Her ice-blue hair shone beneath the lights, and Elisa's familiar face was safely concealed beneath her expressive cover mesh. "Lena?" Lena turned. Then smiled. "Bea." Bea glanced toward Marco. Mandi was already laughing with him. Then back. "Your husband?" "Yes." "Kidnapped?" "Apparently." Bea laughed. "Should we rescue him?" Lena watched Marco catch Mandi's hand and turn her neatly into the music. He was smiling. Not politely. Not because somebody expected him to. He was genuinely enjoying himself. Lena's expression softened. "No." Bea followed her gaze. Then smiled. "Good answer." At 9:26, the next two guests entered Lizzie's. They stopped just beyond the entrance. Looked around. And smiled. Mira turned toward Della. "Well." Della laughed. "Well?" "This is considerably more interesting than I expected." The club was crowded, lively, and clearly enjoying itself. The illuminated cards caught Mira's attention first. Then the display above the bar. WILD MUSES She read the names. Stopped. Then looked again. "Oh, fuck." Della followed her gaze. Her smile widened. "Oh, excellent." Mandi. Dalia. Two names that came with extremely pleasant memories. Della looked farther along the display. Then grinned. "And Nova." Mira laughed. "Well, now." They stood together for a moment, watching the club. Then Mira took Della's hand. "Shall we?" Della smiled. "Absolutely." Dalia spotted them first. She was standing beside Deja when she looked toward the entrance. Her expression changed. "Oh." Deja followed her gaze. "What?" Dalia smiled. "Friends." "Good friends?" Dalia's smile widened. "Very." Across the dance floor, Mandi was laughing with Marco. Dalia caught her eye. Then tilted her head toward the entrance. Mandi looked. Stopped dancing. Stared. Then broke into a grin so enormous that Marco began laughing before he even knew why. "Oh, FUCK." He glanced toward the entrance. "Friends?" Mandi looked up. "Beautiful ones." She squeezed his hand. "Excuse me a moment?" Marco smiled. "Of course." Mandi turned. Then hurried toward the bar. At almost the same moment, Nova noticed the arrivals. She had been speaking with Vega. Now she stopped halfway through a sentence. Vega followed her gaze. Saw Mira and Della. Then looked back at Nova. "Oh, bloody hell." Nova's smile became positively wicked. "What?" Vega laughed. "You." "Me?" "Don't even fucking try." Nova was already moving. Mira reached the bar first. Della was beside her. Dalia approached with a smile. "Well, look who's here." Mira's face lit up. "Dalia!" Dalia removed her lollipop. "Hello, gorgeous." Mira caught her in an embrace and kissed her. Warmly. Familiar. The sort of greeting that didn't require introductions, explanations, or any pretense that the two women were discovering each other for the first time. Della stepped closer. "And what about me?" Dalia laughed. "Come here." Della kissed her too. Then Mandi arrived. "OH, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEAUTIES!" Mira turned. Saw the orange hair. And burst out laughing. "Mandi!" Mandi threw her arms wide. "Miss me?" Mira caught her around the waist. "Terribly." "Excellent answer." She kissed Mira. Della watched. Then grinned. "Still greedy?" Mandi turned. "Always." Della kissed her. Mandi returned it enthusiastically. When they separated, she looked delighted. "Fuck, it's good to see you." Della smiled. "You too." Dalia stood beside them, clearly enjoying the reunion. Then a familiar voice came from behind Mira. "Well. This is an unexpected pleasure." Della turned. Her smile became enormous. "Nova!" Nova inclined her head. "Good evening." Mira laughed. "Oh, listen to her." Nova looked offended. "What?" "Still pretending to be respectable?" "Occasionally." Della stepped closer. "Poorly." Nova smiled. "Apparently." Then Della kissed her. Nova's hands settled comfortably at her waist. For a moment, the surrounding noise seemed to become less important. When they separated, Nova looked thoroughly pleased. Mira stepped forward. "My turn." Nova raised an eyebrow. "Demanding." "Always." Nova laughed. Then welcomed her kiss too. From the bar, Suzy watched the reunion. Lisa joined her. "Friends?" Suzy smiled. "Apparently." Lisa looked toward Mandi. Then Dalia. Then Nova. Mira and Della were laughing with all three of them. "Very good friends," Lisa observed. Suzy nodded. "Looks that way." Lisa glanced at the Wild Muses display. Then at the growing crowd. Then toward the private lounges. "Busy night." Suzy smiled. "And it's barely started." At the bar, Mira finally looked around at the cards. Then at Mandi. Then Dalia. Then Nova. "So." Mandi grinned. "So?" "What exactly have you three been up to?" Dalia smiled. "How much time have you got?" Della laughed. "Plenty." Nova raised an eyebrow. "That sounds promising." Mira looked toward the display. "Wild Muses?" Mandi nodded proudly. "Tonight's entertainment." Dalia glanced at her. "Some of it." Nova smiled. "And some of us are simply enjoying the company." Della looked at the three women. Then at Mira. Then back. "Well." Mira grinned. "Oh, absolutely." Mandi leaned forward. "Absolutely what?" Mira's smile became positively wicked. "I think we'd like to hear the full explanation." Dalia laughed softly. "Careful what you ask for." Della raised an eyebrow. "Darling, we've already learned that lesson." Nova smiled. "And?" Della caught her hand. "And apparently we haven't learned a fucking thing." Everyone laughed. --- Across the room, Marco had returned to Lena. He stood beside her, one arm around her waist, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Lena watched the reunion near the bar. Then looked toward him. "Having fun?" Marco smiled. "Yes." "Good." He glanced at the six portraits above the bar. Then at the three cards. Then toward the people laughing near the entrance. "Darling." "Yes?" "I think this is going to be quite an evening." Lena slipped an arm around him. "I rather hope so." Bea, standing nearby, smiled. "Oh, it will be." Marco looked at her. "Confident?" Bea grinned. "Very." Then she offered Lena a violet card. Lena raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Bea smiled. "Conversation." Marco looked interested. Lena turned the card over. "What would you like to discuss?" Bea considered. Then glanced toward the dance floor. "Whether your husband is as much trouble as Mandi claims." Lena stared at her. Then burst out laughing. Marco looked scandalized. "Excuse me!" Bea's smile widened. Lena slipped her hand into Marco's. "Oh, darling." "What?" "I think we should answer that question properly." At the center of Lizzie's, the evening gathered momentum. The first cards had already changed the atmosphere. Anna had found a woman whose questions were worth answering. Mandi had made a miserable stranger laugh. Deja and Dalia had turned silence into a dance. Nadia had made a stranger's memory into a small work of art. Sera had found a fellow artist who knew how to ask a difficult question. And now familiar visitors, new friends, and several extremely interested people were beginning to discover what else the night might offer. The private rooms were still mostly empty. The most expensive conversations hadn't yet begun. The red cards were only starting to circulate. Suzy checked the time. 21:41. She looked toward Lisa. Then smiled. "Ready?" Lisa glanced around the club. At the laughing women. The glowing cards. The conversations that were becoming steadily more personal. And the unmistakable expression on Mandi's face. "Oh, absolutely." Suzy nodded. Then looked toward the entrance. Another group of guests was arriving. Behind them came a man in an impeccably tailored corporate suit. He paused beneath the Wild Muses display. Read the names. Studied the three categories. Then looked toward the private lounges with the thoughtful expression of somebody evaluating a particularly promising investment. Lisa noticed. Her smile faded slightly. "Suzy." "What?" "See that gentleman?" Suzy followed her gaze. "Oh, yes." "Keep an eye on him." Suzy studied the man. Then nodded. "Agreed." The man ordered a drink. And began asking the bartender questions. Very expensive questions. --- ## Chapter 3 — The Price of Good Company Friday, November 1, 2077 — Lizzie's, 9:41 PM The first thing Mira did was steal Mandi's drink. The second was regret it. "Jesus FUCK!" Mandi grinned. "Good?" Mira stared at the glass. "What is that?" "House special." "It tastes like somebody murdered a battery." "WITH AFFECTION!" Della leaned over, sniffed the drink, and recoiled. "Christ." Dalia laughed around her menthol lollipop. Deja, seated beside her, looked interested. "Actually, the blue version is stronger." Mira turned. "There's a stronger version?" Deja smiled sweetly. "Of course." "Why?" "Some people enjoy making poor decisions." Mandi pointed at her. "THAT'S MY GIRL!" Dalia sighed. "Please don't encourage her." Mira burst out laughing. She'd missed this place. Not merely the music or the beautiful women or the extravagant way Night City could turn a perfectly ordinary Friday into something that would require explanations afterward. She'd missed the atmosphere. The strange mixture of professional competence, shameless humor, genuine affection, and absolutely merciless teasing. Lizzie's didn't pretend the people working there were decorations. They were professionals. Some were artists. Some were joytoys. Some were both. And the fact that Mira genuinely liked several of them did not erase what they did for a living. Quite the contrary. She respected them enough to remember. Della had apparently reached the same conclusion. She was looking at Nova. Nova was looking back. Neither had paid much attention to anybody else for several minutes. Mandi noticed. Naturally. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Della turned. "What?" "You two." Nova raised an eyebrow. "What about us?" "You're practically setting the upholstery on fire." Della grinned. "Jealous?" Mandi considered. "Of the upholstery? Possibly." Dalia burst out laughing. Nova shook her head. "You're impossible." "Thank you." Della picked up a crimson card. Turned it between her fingers. Then looked at Nova. "Actually, I have a question." Nova smiled. "Only one?" "For now." "Progress." Della placed the card on the table. "Are you available for a private booking?" The table went a little quieter. Not because the question was shocking. Because it was a real question. Not a joke. Not a theatrical extension of their flirting. Della was asking Nova to work. Nova looked at her. Then smiled. "Possibly." "Good." "What did you have in mind?" "An hour or two. Somewhere private. Your company." Nova tilted her head. "Just conversation?" Della's smile became wicked. "Darling, I didn't come to Lizzie's to discuss urban planning." Mandi nearly inhaled her drink. "OH, FUCK!" Nova laughed. "Fair enough." Then her expression became more deliberate. "Let's ask Madame." Della nodded. "Of course." Mandi watched them stand. Then called after Nova. "MAKE GOOD DECISIONS!" Nova looked over her shoulder. "I always do." Della grinned. "That's what worries me." ### 9:49 PM — Della Books Nova Panam looked up when Nova and Della reached her table. “Nova.” “Owner.” Della smiled. “Evening, Madame.” Panam glanced at the crimson card Nova held, then returned her attention to the women rather than the card. “Invitation?” “Yes,” Nova said. “Della wants to ask about a booking.” Della nodded. “An hour or two, if Nova wants it.” Panam looked at her pet. “Do you?” Nova met Della’s eyes before answering. “Yes. Ninety minutes sounds good to me.” “On your own, or with an observer?” Panam asked. “Just us tonight,” Nova said. “No other participants.” Panam turned back to Della. “Then I’m offering ninety minutes with Nova at twenty-five thousand eddies per hour. Thirty-seven thousand five hundred total. Does that work for you?” Della smiled. “Agreed.” “Payment reserves the time,” Panam said. “Nova decides what she actually wants to do during it, and either of you can stop. No observer or additional guest without a new discussion here first.” “Understood,” Della said. Panam checked with Nova once more. “Still your choice, sweetheart?” “Very much, Owner.” Della authorized the payment to Panam’s booking account. The confirmation appeared on Panam’s agent. Suzy’s room system registered the slot and issued access without taking over the negotiation. Panam stood close enough to see Nova’s face rather than just the transaction on a screen. The eagerness was real. So was the easy familiarity with Della. “All right,” she said, and touched Nova’s cheek. Nova leaned into the contact for a moment. Panam unclipped her leash. *Click.* She placed it into Nova’s hand, then kissed her forehead. “Bring it back to me. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.” “I will, Owner.” Della waited until Nova had finished with Panam before offering her hand. Nova took it. And together they headed toward the private suites. --- The room was quiet. Comfortable. Beautifully furnished. And considerably more private than the club's main floor. Della closed the door behind them. Nova placed the detached leash neatly beside her bag. Then turned. Della was smiling. "What?" Nova raised an eyebrow. "Nothing." "Oh, bullshit." "Such language." "Nova." "Yes, darling?" "Are you going to spend our entire ninety minutes looking pleased with yourself?" Nova considered. "Possibly." Della laughed. "Then I'm going to demand a refund." "Tragic." She approached. Della caught her gently by the waist. For a moment they simply stood together. Close. Smiling. The white-void contacts gave Nova an almost otherworldly appearance, but the warmth of her expression was entirely human. Della touched her cheek. "You really are beautiful." Nova smiled. "Thank you." "And disgustingly smug." "Also true." Della leaned closer. "I've been looking forward to this." Nova's expression softened. "So have I." "Good." Della kissed her. The kiss was warm and unhurried. Nova answered without hesitation, letting the moment last before drawing back. Della smiled. "God, I've missed that." Nova touched her cheek. "Then perhaps we should do something about it." "Professional recommendation?" "Extremely." Della laughed. Then kissed her again. *Private appointment — Della and Nova* They moved from the doorway to the sofa together. Della took off her jacket, and Nova set it carefully aside. A small clasp on Nova's outfit caught when she shifted; Della noticed and helped her free it. "Your designer enjoys making things complicated," Della observed. Nova laughed. "Only when she's feeling generous." "Remind me to send her a complaint." "She'll consider it a compliment." Della smiled and drew her close. The humor remained, but something else had arrived beneath it. Anticipation. Recognition. The pleasure of knowing that neither woman was here out of obligation. Della had booked the appointment because she wanted Nova. Nova had accepted because the interest was mutual. The fee established the professional arrangement. It did not manufacture the affection between them. When Della asked whether Nova wanted to make love with her, Nova answered with an unmistakable yes. They stayed on the sofa after the second kiss, neither in any hurry to treat the room as a checklist. Della’s hand found the small clasp again, the one that had snagged earlier. This time she worked it open properly, the fabric parting under her fingers. Nova’s breath caught, then steadied. “Your designer still enjoys making things complicated,” Della said against her throat. “Only when she wants the person undoing it to stay close,” Nova answered. She turned her head and kissed Della properly, deeper, one hand sliding under the open edge of the outfit to rest against warm skin. They kissed until the sofa’s arm began to press awkwardly against Della’s back. Nova drew away first, smiling when Della made a small sound of protest. “Bedroom,” Nova said. “Unless you prefer negotiating with the cushions.” “Tragic.” Della stood and offered her hand. Nova took it. The detached leash stayed exactly where she had left it, beside the bag. In the bedroom the lighting was lower. Della shrugged out of the rest of her own clothes without ceremony, then returned to Nova and eased the ivory fabric the rest of the way off her shoulders. The collar remained. Nova stood still for it, watching Della’s face rather than the fabric falling. When she was bare except for the collar, Della’s hands settled at her waist and stayed there. “You still want this?” Della asked. “Very much.” They reached the bed together. Della guided Nova down and followed, settling between her thighs without rushing the contact. She kissed the inside of one knee, then higher, then used her mouth with slow, focused attention until Nova’s dry remarks thinned into breath and a hand curled in Della’s hair. Nova’s hips lifted once, then settled again when Della’s palm pressed lightly against her stomach. “There,” Nova managed. “Exactly there.” Della stayed with it until Nova’s breathing broke and she came with a quiet, surprised sound that turned into a low laugh against the pillow. Della kissed her way back up, smiling when Nova pulled her into a longer kiss and tasted herself. “Your turn,” Nova said, and shifted so she was lying beside Della instead of above her. She drew Della’s hand between her own thighs, then returned the attention with her own hand, the two of them pressed close enough that every small movement registered. Nova set a slower rhythm with her fingers, watching Della’s face; Della answered with the same careful focus she had given earlier. When Nova leaned in to kiss her, the angle let them both keep the contact. Della’s breath caught hard against her mouth. “Nova—” “I know.” Nova kept the pace steady. “Stay with me.” They finished close together. Nova came a second time with her forehead against Della’s, the sound smaller and warmer. Della followed moments later, arms tightening, a low sound muffled against Nova’s shoulder. They stayed pressed together while the intensity eased, then Nova settled fully beside her. The room was quiet except for their breathing. Nova lay close enough to hear Della's breathing settle. Della brushed a hand over her hair. For several moments, neither spoke. Then Della smiled. "Well." Nova turned her head. "Well?" "That's one way to remind a woman why she likes coming here." Nova laughed softly. "Only one?" "Don't get greedy." "Too late." Della kissed her forehead. "Impossible woman." "Happy client?" Della looked at her. The teasing softened. "Very happy." Nova smiled. "Good." Della drew her closer. "And a very happy friend." That earned a different smile. A warmer one. "Even better," Nova murmured. When the first quiet stretch had passed, Della reached for the water on the bedside table. She offered Nova the glass first. Nova drank. Then handed it back. "Thank you." Della smiled. "Can't have you dehydrated." "How considerate." "I have moments." They rested together for another while. Their conversation wandered. Music. The club. Old acquaintances. The remarkable talent Night City possessed for turning a simple evening out into something considerably more memorable. At one point Della looked toward the clock. Then sighed. Nova raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Time." "Yes." "Terrible invention." Nova laughed. "Agreed." Della touched her cheek. "Still glad you accepted?" Nova's answer was immediate. "Very." "Good." She kissed her once more. Then began looking for her jacket. Nova watched with considerable amusement as Della discovered it beneath the cushion she'd been leaning against earlier. "Lost something?" "Shut up." "Just asking." Della laughed. "Professional menace." Nova grinned. "That one's going on my profile." ### 9:57 PM — Lena Makes Her Choice Lena had been watching Marco dance with Mandi. And enjoying it. The two were having a wonderful time. Marco was confident, relaxed, and clearly delighted to have found somebody who could match his enthusiasm without making him feel obliged to perform. Mandi was laughing. Frequently. Loudly. Sometimes directly into his ear. Marco appeared to consider this a perfectly acceptable occupational hazard. Beside Lena, Bea followed her gaze. "Your husband is having an excellent evening." "Yes." "And Mandi seems particularly fond of him." Lena smiled. "She does." Bea looked toward her. "Does that bother you?" "Not remotely." "Good." Lena considered. Then turned. "What about you?" Bea raised an eyebrow. "Me?" "Are you working tonight?" Bea smiled. "Yes." "Taking appointments?" "When somebody interesting asks." Lena reached for a crimson card. Bea watched her. Then slowly began smiling. "Oh." Lena placed it on the table. "Private Invitation." Bea looked delighted. "Well, well." Lena raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Nothing." "Elaborate." "I was simply wondering whether you were about to surprise me." Lena smiled. "That depends." "On?" "Whether you accept." Bea studied her. Then asked: "Are you inviting me somewhere privately as a friend, or asking to book me professionally?" Lena appreciated the distinction. She appreciated even more that Elisa knew her well enough to ask it without making the question awkward. "Professionally," Lena answered. "I'd like an appointment with you." Bea's expression warmed. "And personally?" Lena smiled. "Personally, I'm very pleased the professional happens to be somebody I adore." Bea laughed. "Excellent answer." "Interested?" "Very." "Then let's make it official." At Suzy's desk, Bea stated her established rate. "Twenty-five thousand eddies for one hour." Lena nodded. "Agreed." Suzy recorded the booking. "One hour. Bea. Private suite." She looked at both women. "Any additions?" Bea shook her head. "No." "Good." Lena authorized the payment. Twenty-five thousand eddies transferred. Confirmed. Suzy checked Bea's consent. Bea smiled. "Absolutely." Then Suzy looked toward Lena. "And you're comfortable with the arrangement?" Lena nodded. "Yes." "Excellent." Suzy assigned the room. Then smiled. "Enjoy yourselves." Bea offered Lena her hand. Lena accepted. As they passed the dance floor, Lena caught Marco's attention. He looked over. Saw the crimson card. Saw Bea. Then looked toward his wife. Lena smiled. Marco's expression softened. He raised his glass in a small salute. Lena blew him a kiss. Then continued toward the suites. Bea laughed. "Oh, darling." "What?" "Your husband is wonderful." Lena smiled. "I know." --- The private room suited Bea. Elegant. Controlled lighting. Comfortable seating. Enough space to relax without feeling exposed. Lena closed the door. Then turned. Bea was watching her. The ice-blue ChromeLock hair remained immaculate. Her expressive face mesh concealed Elisa's familiar features completely. But Lena knew the woman beneath it. And she knew exactly how much pleasure that woman could take in a carefully delivered surprise. "Well?" Bea asked. Lena approached. "Well?" "What would you like?" Lena stopped close enough to touch her. Then smiled. "First, I'd like to kiss you." Bea's expression softened. "Then please do." Lena kissed her. Bea answered warmly. When they separated, Lena remained close. "Good beginning?" Bea smiled. "Excellent." "Then perhaps we should continue." Bea laughed. "Darling, I was hoping you'd say that." *Private appointment — Lena and Bea* Lena had spent most of her adult life noticing what other people needed. It came naturally. So naturally that sometimes she forgot there was a difference between being attentive and disappearing into everybody else's requirements. Tonight, she had made an intentional choice. She had come to Lizzie's as a guest. She had enjoyed watching Marco dance. And now she'd booked an hour with a woman she genuinely wanted to spend that hour with. Not to solve a problem. Not to help somebody recover from a difficult week. Simply because she wanted to. Bea noticed the difference. She also respected it. When Lena drew her toward the sofa, Bea followed willingly. Lena sat beside her, turned, and kissed her again. For a while, they remained there, sharing a closeness that felt as familiar as their friendship and more openly romantic than the joking exchange at the bar. Bea lifted a hand to Lena's cheek. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself, you know." Lena smiled. "I know." "Do you?" "Yes." A pause. Then Lena laughed. "I'm beginning to suspect you're going to make me prove it." Bea grinned. "An excellent idea." Lena kissed her before she could say anything else. The familiar teasing gave way to a quieter exchange of affection. They talked briefly about what they wanted from the rest of the appointment, agreed that neither wished to rush, and chose to continue more intimately. Lena's confidence was understated but unmistakable. Bea's answering warmth was immediate. The appointment was professional. The tenderness was real. Neither diminished the other. They stayed on the sofa after the decision, kissing until the familiar teasing softened into something quieter. Bea’s hand rested against Lena’s cheek, then slid lower, tracing the line of her dress where the fabric pulled taut across her ribs. “You’re allowed to want this for yourself,” Bea said, not as a reminder so much as an observation. “I know.” Lena kissed her again, then stood and drew Bea up with her. “Come on.” In the bedroom Lena turned Bea so her back was to the bed and kissed her while she worked the fastenings of Bea’s outfit open. The ice-blue hair stayed immaculate; the face mesh stayed in place. What changed was the way Bea’s breath shortened when Lena’s mouth found the newly bared skin at her collarbone. Lena eased her down onto the bed and followed, settling between her legs with the same careful attention she usually reserved for other people’s fittings. She used her mouth first, slow and thorough, one hand braced at Bea’s hip. Bea’s fingers tightened in the bedding, then relaxed, then tightened again when Lena’s tongue found a particular angle. She came with a low, pleased sound and a quiet laugh afterward, the kind that meant the tension had left her shoulders. “Your turn,” Bea said, and pulled Lena up. She rolled them so Lena was on her back, then kissed her way down without hurry. When she settled between Lena’s thighs she looked up once, waiting. Lena nodded. Bea’s mouth was warm and precise; she paid attention to the small shifts in Lena’s breathing and adjusted without being told. Lena’s hand found Bea’s hair, careful of the styling, and stayed there. She came with her head tipped back and a soft, almost surprised exhale, the sound of someone who had spent the evening noticing everyone else and had finally stopped. They stayed close afterward, trading slower kisses while the hour continued around them. Lena’s hand rested against the side of Bea’s neck, thumb moving once over the edge of the mesh. Neither of them spoke for a while. Later, Lena rested against the pillows with Bea beside her. For a while, neither moved. Then Bea smiled. "There." Lena turned. "Where?" "That's the woman I was hoping would come out tonight." Lena laughed softly. "I've been here all along." "I know." Bea touched her hand. "But you've spent the last few hours thinking about what everybody else needed." Lena considered. Then smiled. "And now?" "Now you're thinking about yourself." Lena looked at her. Then kissed her. "Thank you." Bea's expression softened. "You're very welcome." They did not spend the remainder of the appointment discussing schedules. Or assignments. Or who needed what tomorrow. Instead they stayed close, occasionally exchanging remarks that became steadily less respectable as the minutes passed. At one point Bea looked toward Lena's carefully arranged hair. Then sighed. "Your work is really quite extraordinary." Lena raised an eyebrow. "My work?" "The hair. The wardrobe. The ridiculous amount of engineering in every detail." Lena laughed. "You're complimenting the woman who dressed you?" "Among other things." "How professional." "Extremely." Bea smiled. Then leaned closer. "Although I must say, your taste in women is even better." Lena burst out laughing. "That is an outrageous thing to say." "I know." "Especially about yourself." "Darling, humility is exhausting." Lena kissed her. "Apparently." At 11:09, the appointment ended. Not abruptly. They had left themselves time to dress, sit together for a few moments, and return to the wider world without feeling hurried. Lena straightened one detail of Bea's outfit that had shifted. Bea smiled. "Working again?" Lena shook her head. "Personal preference." "Ah." "Can't have you going out looking anything less than magnificent." Bea laughed. "Then by all means." When they reached the door, Lena caught her hand. Bea turned. "Yes?" Lena smiled. "That was a wonderful hour." Bea's expression softened. "For me too." They kissed once more. Then returned to Lizzie's. Lena had no intention of pretending the appointment hadn't happened. Nor was Bea going to treat it as something embarrassing. They were professionals, friends, and adults. There was no contradiction to conceal. ### 10:06 PM — An Offer for Three Mira had spent the last ten minutes becoming increasingly fond of Deja. Which was saying something. She'd liked her immediately. But liking somebody was one thing. Discovering that the apparently gentle woman possessed a sense of humor capable of making Mandi look momentarily speechless was another. Mira considered it a remarkable achievement. "So," she said, "what are we doing?" Dalia raised an eyebrow. "About?" Mira picked up the crimson card she'd left on the table. "This." Deja smiled. "Still interested?" "Very." Mandi, returning from the dance floor, stopped beside them. "INTERESTED IN WHAT?" Mira turned. "You." Mandi stared. Then grinned. "Oh." Dalia laughed. "That got her attention." Mandi leaned against Mira's chair. "Darling, you have my undivided attention." "Since when?" "Approximately three seconds ago." Deja smiled sweetly. "An impressive personal record." Mira burst out laughing. Mandi looked offended. "YOU." "What?" "You're getting far too comfortable." Deja considered. "Yes." Dalia laughed harder. Mandi opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then looked toward Mira. "See what I have to deal with?" Mira grinned. "Beautiful women with opinions?" "EXACTLY." "Terrible hardship." "Thank you." Dalia shook her head. "Hopeless." Mira waited for the laughter to settle. Then placed the card between them. "All right. Serious question." Mandi straightened. Dalia looked interested. Deja turned toward her. Mira smiled. "I'd like to book the three of you." For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Mandi grinned. "Well, fuck." Dalia looked at Mira. "Together?" "Yes." Deja tilted her head. "All three?" "If you're all interested." Mira let the question sit. She knew two of these women well. The third she'd only met properly tonight. That made a difference. She wasn't interested in a performance where Deja went along with something because everybody else had already agreed. Dalia turned toward Deja. "What do you think?" Deja considered. Then looked directly at Mira. "I'd like that." Mira smiled. "Good." Mandi raised her hand. "ME TOO." Dalia stared at her. "We noticed." "I'M CONTRIBUTING." "Audibly." Mira laughed. Then looked at Dalia. "And you?" Dalia smiled. "Yes." A pause. "Provided we arrange it properly." Mira nodded immediately. "Of course." Mandi sighed theatrically. "Apparently we're going to be respectable." Deja smiled. "For approximately five minutes." Mandi looked at her. Then burst out laughing. "FUCK. I LOVE YOU." They approached Madame Panam first. She stood at her usual table with the other handles resting loosely in her hand. She watched Mira hold out the crimson card, then looked at all three women being invited. “Together?” Panam asked. “Yes,” Mira said. “If all three want it.” Panam looked at Mandi before anybody else. “Sweetheart?” Mandi beamed. “Absolutely, Owner.” “And you’re sure?” “Yes.” Panam nodded. Then she looked toward Dalia and Deja. “You two are not mine to book,” she said. “But if you want to work with my pet, I’d like to hear it directly.” Dalia smiled. “Yes. My own decision.” Deja touched the ivory collar beneath her dark green hair. “Yes. Mine too.” Mira let out a delighted breath. Panam spoke to her. “Ninety minutes? One client and three professionals; no additional guests?” “Exactly.” “For Mandi, thirty-seven thousand five hundred eddies,” Panam said. “My part of this booking is hers alone. Dalia and Deja will each agree their own terms with Suzy. Nothing changes that.” Mira nodded. “Of course.” Panam signaled Suzy to join them for the independent professionals’ part of the arrangement. Dalia stated her ninety-minute fee: thirty-seven thousand five hundred eddies. Deja stated the same figure for herself. Suzy confirmed their two bookings, separately and subject to their continuing consent. Panam confirmed Mandi’s booking on her own agent. “One hundred and twelve thousand five hundred in all,” Mira said. “Three separately accepted appointments, one suite.” “Correct,” Panam replied. “The card wasn’t payment, and the agreement isn’t permission to improvise beyond what each woman wants.” Mira laughed. “I know.” All three women confirmed again. Mira authorized the three transfers. Panam received Mandi’s confirmation; Suzy’s system received Dalia’s and Deja’s, then assigned one large suite for all four. Panam drew Mandi a little closer by the loosened line, looking at her face rather than the figures. “Good?” “Very, Owner.” “Need anything before you go?” Mandi shook her head. “Just my leash.” Panam kissed her cheek and unclipped it. *Click.* The detached leash went into Mandi’s hand. “Bring it back,” Panam told her. “And remember, you get to stop just as much as you get to start.” Mandi’s smile softened. “Yes, Owner.” Dalia turned toward Deja. “Would you like to keep yours attached?” Deja considered, fingers on her ivory collar. “Until we’re inside. Then we can decide what feels right.” Dalia nodded. “Of course.” Mira watched them, understanding perfectly well that the two leashes meant two different relationships. Mandi’s belonged to Madame’s Stable. Deja’s was a personal choice with Dalia. Dalia herself worked independently. Suzy sent the suite access codes to the four women and returned to her own floor duties. Mandi grinned at Mira. “Now *that* is a plan.” --- The room was large enough for four people without any complicated rearrangements. Which was fortunate. Because Mandi immediately tried to claim the entire sofa. Mira caught her by the hand. "No." Mandi looked offended. "What?" "Share." "Oppression." "Basic mathematics." Dalia laughed. Deja examined the room. Then nodded approvingly. "Very nice." Mira looked at her. "Comfortable?" "Yes." "Good." Dalia removed Deja's leash and set it beside her bag. The ivory collar remained. Dalia smiled. "All right?" "Perfect." Mandi flopped dramatically onto the sofa. "CAN WE PLEASE START HAVING FUN?" Mira stared. Then slowly smiled. "Mandi." "What?" "Come here." Mandi sat up. Mira caught her gently by the shoulders. And kissed her. Mandi answered immediately. The familiar affection was there from the first moment. When they separated, Mira smiled. "Better?" Mandi considered. "Improving." Deja laughed. Dalia shook her head. "Some things never change." Mira looked toward her. "Would you like to help?" Dalia's smile became wicked. "Very much." She approached. Mandi looked from one woman to the other. Then grinned. "Oh, THIS is more like it." Dalia kissed Mira first. Mandi watched. Smiling. When they separated, Mira turned toward Deja. Deja was sitting comfortably on the opposite end of the sofa. Observing. Interested. Not uncertain. Mira approached. "May I?" Deja smiled. "Yes." Mira took her hand. For a moment they simply looked at each other. Then Mira leaned closer and kissed her. Deja answered warmly. There was a different quality to this encounter. Newness. Curiosity. The pleasure of discovering something rather than remembering it. When they separated, Deja looked amused. "What?" Mira smiled. "Nothing." Deja raised an eyebrow. "That's not terribly informative." Mira laughed. "I was thinking you're even more attractive up close." Deja smiled sweetly. "An excellent beginning." Mira laughed again. "Oh, I really do like you." "Good." Deja caught her hand. "And I'm rather pleased you asked." *Private appointment — Mira, Mandi, Dalia and Deja* They began on the sofa. There was no need for a complicated introduction. Mira already knew Mandi's tendency to demand attention and Dalia's ability to silence her with one look. Deja was newer. But she was hardly shy about stating her preferences. When Mandi tried to pull all three women into one extravagant embrace, Deja laughed. "You're going to knock somebody off the sofa." Mandi looked offended. "I'm petite!" Dalia stared. "That's not the same thing as being careful." "Details." Mira caught Mandi before she could demonstrate her theory. "Sit." Mandi grinned. "Bossy." "Practical." "Hot." Deja laughed. "She's got you there." Dalia shook her head. "Wonderful. We're doomed." The laughter made everything easier. Mira could enjoy the familiar playfulness of Mandi and Dalia without worrying that Deja had somehow become an accessory to their history. Deja was actively participating. Choosing. Teasing. Offering affection where she wanted to. Receiving it in return. Mira kissed her again, then rested her forehead briefly against hers. "You still comfortable?" Deja smiled. "Very." "Good." "And you?" Mira laughed softly. "Delighted." Deja's expression warmed. Then she turned toward Dalia. The two women exchanged a familiar look. Dalia leaned closer and kissed her. Mandi watched. Then smiled. For once she didn't interrupt. Mira noticed. "Well." Mandi turned. "What?" "You're being quiet." "Sometimes." "Should I be worried?" Mandi grinned. "Definitely." They laughed again. And when the four women decided to continue more intimately, the decision belonged to all of them. There were brief practical pauses, questions answered without embarrassment, and familiar gestures of affection between people who had no reason to pretend desire was something mysterious or shameful. Mandi's humor remained irreverent. Dalia's precision remained unmistakable. Deja's sweetness continued to conceal some wonderfully indecent observations. And Mira found herself enjoying the extraordinary pleasure of spending time with three women who were comfortable enough with one another to make the experience feel natural rather than choreographed. Mandi glanced toward the bedroom, then back at Mira. Dalia and Deja followed the look. All four affirmed that they wanted to continue. They stayed on the sofa long enough for the laughter to settle into something warmer. Mira kissed Mandi again, slower this time, one hand at the back of her neck. Mandi answered with characteristic enthusiasm until Dalia’s fingers closed lightly around her wrist. “Share,” Dalia said, not unkindly. Mandi grinned against Mira’s mouth. “Bossy.” “Accurate.” Deja watched from the other end of the sofa, collar still on, leash already set aside. When Mira turned toward her she met the look without hesitation. Mira crossed the short distance and kissed her, careful at first, then deeper when Deja’s hand settled at her waist and pulled her closer. The kiss tasted of mint and something warmer underneath. They moved to the bedroom when the sofa stopped being practical. Clothing came off in stages between kisses—Mandi’s outfit first because she helped with the fastenings herself, then Dalia’s, then Mira’s. Deja’s ivory pieces were last; Dalia undid them while Deja stood between Mira and Mandi, the collar remaining. Mandi made an appreciative noise when the fabric fell. “Fuck, look at you.” Deja’s mouth curved. “Looking is free. Touching requires negotiation.” “Negotiating,” Mandi said immediately, and stepped in to kiss her. They arranged themselves on the bed without a formal plan. Mira ended up on her back with Deja straddling one thigh and Mandi settled between her legs. Dalia stayed close enough to reach all three, one hand resting on Deja’s lower back, the other guiding Mandi’s head when Mandi looked up for direction. Mandi used her mouth on Mira with focused enthusiasm, pausing only when Mira’s hips lifted and Deja laughed softly above them. “She’s good at that,” Deja observed. “She’s showing off,” Dalia answered, and leaned down to kiss Deja properly while Mandi continued. The configuration shifted when Mira came with a sharp breath and a hand in Mandi’s hair. Mandi lifted her head, pleased, and let Dalia pull her up for a kiss that tasted of Mira. Deja moved lower in the same motion, settling between Dalia’s thighs without needing to be asked. She was thorough and unhurried; Dalia’s usual precision fractured into quieter sounds and a hand that tightened, then loosened, in the dark green hair. When Dalia came she kept her eyes open, watching Deja’s face. Mandi watched all of it with open delight, then rolled onto her back and pulled Mira with her. “Your turn to be useful.” Mira laughed and obliged, using her fingers first, then her mouth, while Dalia and Deja stayed tangled beside them. Mandi was loud in the way she usually was and then, briefly, not loud at all; the silence lasted long enough that Deja lifted her head and smiled against Dalia’s shoulder. “Three minutes,” Deja murmured. Mandi pointed at her without opening her eyes. “Don’t.” They finished in a loose pile, trading slower kisses and small adjustments until the urgency eased. Mandi ended up half across Mira’s chest, Dalia’s arm around Deja, the four of them breathing in the same rhythm for a while. Later, Mira lay comfortably against the pillows. Mandi was beside her, looking outrageously pleased with herself. Dalia had settled close. Deja rested against Dalia's shoulder. For a while, nobody spoke. Then Mira smiled. "Well." Mandi raised an eyebrow. "Well?" "That was quite an invitation." Mandi grinned. "Best card of the night." Dalia laughed. "You're biased." "OBVIOUSLY." Deja smiled. "At least she's honest." Mira reached for the water. Offered it around. Then settled again. "Thank you." Mandi looked surprised. "For?" "A wonderful appointment." Dalia smiled. "You're very welcome." Deja nodded. "I enjoyed meeting you properly." Mira turned toward her. "Likewise." Then she laughed. "Although I suspect I'm going to be rather disappointed by ordinary conversations from now on." Deja's smile became wicked. "Then perhaps you should improve your conversational partners." Mandi burst out laughing. "FUCK!" Dalia shook her head. "There's no stopping her now." Mira caught Deja's hand. "I hope not." Their ninety minutes were nearly over when Mandi finally noticed the clock. "Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE." Dalia glanced over. "What?" "Time." Mira laughed. "Still happens, darling." "Discriminatory." "Against whom?" Deja asked. "ME." "How tragic." Mandi sighed. "Nobody understands my suffering." Dalia smiled. "You're surrounded by sympathy." "FAKE sympathy." "Nevertheless." Mira laughed. They gathered their belongings. Deja checked her collar, then retrieved her leash and offered the handle to Dalia. Dalia accepted it. Mandi checked her outfit. Then caught Mira's hand. "Hey." Mira turned. "Yes?" Mandi's expression softened. "Really good to see you again." Mira smiled. "You too." She kissed her. Then Dalia. Then Deja. No awkwardness. No embarrassment about the financial arrangement that had made the appointment possible. The payment had been for professional time and mutually agreed company. The affection was something each woman had freely brought to it. When they reached the door, Mira looked back at the three women. Then grinned. "Well, ladies." Dalia raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" "I think I understand why people keep coming back." Mandi smiled. "Excellent customer retention." Deja laughed. Dalia closed her eyes. "Oh, God." Mira burst out laughing. And together they returned to Lizzie's. ### 10:28 PM — The Ten-Million-Eddie Conversation Julian Voss considered himself a sophisticated man. He was successful. Well-connected. Accustomed to expensive surroundings. And remarkably good at convincing himself that paying a substantial amount of money was equivalent to understanding the thing he'd purchased. He had spent twenty minutes studying the Wild Muses presentation. The idea fascinated him. Not because he cared particularly about the artistic possibilities. Because it suggested exclusivity. Access. A selection process. And, most interestingly, women who apparently enjoyed being approached by people wealthy enough to afford their attention. He ordered another drink. Read the rules again. Then approached Madame Panam. "Madame?" Panam turned. "Yes?" He smiled. "Julian Voss." She nodded. "Panam." "A pleasure." "What can I do for you?" He indicated Sera and Nadia, who were standing nearby. "I understand you represent these two extraordinary artists." "Yes." "I'd like to arrange a private appointment." Panam regarded him. "To discuss what?" "Their work." Nadia looked up. Sera smiled. Panam considered. "Both?" "Yes." "Together?" "Preferably." Panam nodded. "Five million eddies per artist for an agreed private conversation. Ten million total if both accept." Julian smiled. "Naturally." "It buys the conversation. Nothing else." "Understood." "And either woman can refuse to meet you." "Of course." Panam turned toward her lovers. "Sweetheart?" Sera considered him. "What would you like to ask?" Julian smiled. "I'm fascinated by the relationship between artistic creation and exclusive patronage." Sera tilted her head. Nadia looked interested. "Really?" "Very." Panam watched them. Neither appeared uncomfortable. Sera nodded. "I'd be interested in hearing what you mean." Nadia considered. "All right. I have questions too." Panam looked back at Julian. "They're willing." "Excellent." He transferred ten million eddies. Panam confirmed the payment. Then turned toward Sera. "Still comfortable, pet?" "Yes, Owner." Panam unclipped her leash. Click. She handed it to Sera. "Enjoy yourself, sweetheart." Sera leaned down and kissed her. Then Panam turned toward Nadia. Nadia smiled. "Yes, Owner." Panam smiled back. Another click. She handed Nadia her leash. Nadia kissed her. "We'll be back." "I know." The artists led Julian toward a private conversation suite. Panam watched them go. Suzy approached. "Good?" Panam considered. "Maybe." "Maybe?" "He was very agreeable." Suzy raised an eyebrow. "That's usually considered a virtue." "Usually." Panam looked toward the corridor. "But I don't think he's actually interested in their work." Suzy sighed. "Oh, dear." Panam nodded. "Exactly." --- Julian began well. He complimented Sera's international reputation. Praised Nadia's artistic independence. And described at considerable length the importance of supporting extraordinary creative talent. Nadia listened. Sera asked questions. For approximately ten minutes, the conversation was perfectly civil. Then Nadia asked: "Which of my installations have you seen?" Julian smiled. "Several have been discussed in my professional circles." Nadia tilted her head. "Which ones?" A pause. "The recent work." "Which recent work?" Julian chuckled. "Well, I couldn't possibly remember every title." Nadia looked at Sera. Sera looked back. A small silence followed. Then Sera asked: "What about mine?" Julian smiled. "Your reputation precedes you." Sera waited. "And my work?" "Quite remarkable." "Which piece?" Another pause. Julian considered. Then leaned forward. "Perhaps I should explain what I have in mind." Nadia folded her arms. "Please." He smiled. "I host a number of very exclusive private gatherings." Sera nodded. "All right." "Corporate leaders. Investors. Collectors. People who appreciate exceptional experiences." Nadia raised an eyebrow. "And?" "I'd like the two of you to attend." "As artists?" Sera asked. "Of course." "With our work?" Julian smiled. "Your presence would be the attraction." There was a pause. Nadia looked at him. Then smiled politely. "Ah." Sera regarded him. "Would we be presenting anything?" Julian considered. "Not necessarily." "Then what exactly would you want us to do?" He chuckled. "Entertain my guests." Nadia's smile disappeared. "How?" Julian spread his hands. "Whatever the evening requires." Sera went very still. For a moment she said nothing. Then: "That isn't a commission." "Not in the traditional sense." "It isn't an exhibition." "Not precisely." "And you haven't actually seen our work." Julian hesitated. "Not personally." Nadia leaned back. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Julian blinked. "I'm sorry?" Nadia looked at him. "You bought a conversation with two artists and spent most of it explaining how impressive your money is." He smiled patiently. "I think you're misunderstanding the opportunity." "No." "Perhaps if I gave you a figure—" "No, thank you." Julian stopped. Sera looked toward Nadia. Then back at him. "I agree." Julian frowned. "With what?" "We're not interested." He smiled again. "Surely you should hear the offer." Nadia shook her head. "No." "But—" "We've heard enough to decide." Julian laughed softly. Not because he found them amusing. Because he genuinely believed they were beginning a negotiation. "Everybody has a price." Sera's expression cooled. "Apparently you haven't been listening." He leaned forward. "I'm prepared to be extremely generous." Nadia stood. "That's nice." He looked surprised. "Are we finished?" "Yes." "But we've only been here twenty minutes." Sera rose too. "Yes." "I paid ten million." "For a private conversation," Nadia replied. "Exactly!" "And you've had it." Julian stared. Sera picked up her detached leash. Then looked toward him. "Our Owner explained the arrangement very clearly." Julian smiled. "I'm sure we can discuss the next stage." Sera sighed. "There is no next stage." Nadia caught her hand. "Come on." They left together. Julian followed. Still talking. ### 10:52 PM — A Very Expensive Lesson Panam saw her lovers returning before she noticed Julian behind them. Sera carried her leash in one hand. Nadia carried hers. Both looked perfectly composed. But Panam knew them. Sera's hair had lost its usual lively movement. Nadia was smiling in a way Panam recognized immediately. That particular smile generally preceded somebody discovering how little Nadia cared about their social standing. Panam stepped forward. "Sweetheart." Sera's expression softened. "Owner." She offered her leash. Panam accepted. Click. Then drew her close and kissed her. "Welcome back, pet." Sera rested against her. "Thank you." Panam studied her. "How are you?" "All right. A little irritated." "Anything you need?" Sera considered. "A drink. And perhaps a few minutes away from people who think art is something you can hang on a wall beside your bank balance." Panam smiled. "Done." She kissed her temple. Then turned toward Nadia. Nadia offered her leash. Click. Panam drew her close. Nadia sighed. "Hello, Owner." "Hello, beautiful." Panam kissed her. "Tell me how you're doing." Nadia looked toward the conversation-room corridor. Then back. "Fine. Annoyed. And extremely disappointed in corporate education." Panam laughed. "That bad?" "He didn't know what an installation was." Sera looked up. "He knew it sounded expensive." Nadia burst out laughing. Panam smiled. Then looked toward Suzy. "Food and water for both, please." Suzy nodded. "Already coming." Panam drew her lovers close. Neither was being asked to provide a public report of what had happened. Neither was expected to rush into another appointment. The conversation had been work. Now they were home in the familiar shelter of their Owner's attention. Julian apparently misunderstood the scene. He approached with an encouraging smile. "Madame Panam." Panam turned. "Yes?" "I'd like to discuss the next stage." Her expression changed. "What next stage?" "Our engagement." "There isn't one." Julian chuckled. "Surely you understand that the initial conversation was merely an introduction." "No." He blinked. "I'm sorry?" "No." Julian straightened his jacket. "Perhaps I haven't explained myself adequately." Nadia muttered: "Oh, fuck." Sera closed her eyes. Panam folded her arms. "These women have declined your invitation." "Yes, but—" "Then there's nothing to discuss." Julian smiled patiently. "I'm prepared to offer twenty million." "No." "Fifty." "No." "One hundred million." Panam stared at him. Then shook her head. "You're not listening." Julian spread his hands. "I'm negotiating." "No," Panam replied. "You're refusing to accept an answer." He looked toward the artists. Both were standing close to Panam. Neither seemed remotely interested. For the first time, Julian appeared genuinely confused. "Surely you can't expect me to believe—" "Out." He blinked. "Excuse me?" Panam pointed toward the entrance. "You're finished here." Julian laughed nervously. "Madame, this is absurd." Lisa approached. Two Moxes moved into position beside her. "Good evening, sir." Julian looked toward her. Then the two women behind her. Then back toward Panam. "I've spent ten million eddies!" Lisa nodded. "Yes." "And received nothing!" Suzy joined them. "That's not what our booking record says." Julian turned. "Ah. Perhaps you can help." Suzy smiled. "Certainly." He looked relieved. "I paid for a private engagement—" "No," Suzy interrupted. "You paid for a private conversation." He hesitated. "Well—" "With two artists." "Yes." "Who agreed to speak with you." "Correct." "And did." He stopped. Suzy smiled. "Excellent. Then the transaction was completed exactly as agreed." Julian stared. "That's not the point." "Apparently not." He straightened. "I am an important customer." Suzy regarded him. "Not anymore." Silence. Lisa smiled politely. "Shall we?" Julian looked around. The two Moxes were waiting. Nobody appeared interested in taking his side. He sighed. "Very well." Lisa gestured toward the exit. And the four of them began the walk across the main floor. Mandi wasn't there to witness the procession. Neither were Dalia, Deja, or Mira. They were still occupied with their paid appointment. Nova and Della remained in their own suite. Bea and Lena were likewise enjoying their private hour. The people who did witness the incident were quite sufficient. Vega saw Julian approaching the entrance between Lisa and the two Moxes. She looked toward Anna. "Well, fuck." Anna followed her gaze. Then smiled. "An unexpected departure?" Vega grinned. "Looks like it." A couple at the bar watched the procession. One whispered: "What happened?" The other shrugged. "Apparently somebody bought the wrong kind of invitation." Suzy overheard. And laughed. At the entrance, Julian made one final attempt. "Would it be possible to speak to the proprietor?" Lisa looked toward Suzy. Suzy folded her arms. "You're speaking to her." Julian stared. Then smiled. "Wonderful. Perhaps we can resolve this commercially." Suzy regarded him for a moment. Then sighed. "Listen carefully." He straightened. "I'm listening." "These women are people. Their decision is not a negotiation obstacle. It's a decision." Julian frowned. "I understand that." "No," Suzy said. "You don't." A pause. Then: "You paid for a conversation and received one. They declined anything further. You refused to accept that. Now you're leaving." He opened his mouth. Suzy held up a hand. "And before you ask, there is no VIP membership that changes the answer." Julian closed his mouth. Lisa looked almost impressed. The executive considered. Then nodded stiffly. "Very well." Lisa opened the door. "Good night, sir." Julian stepped outside. The two Moxes accompanied him to the street. Lisa remained long enough to make certain he actually departed. Then returned. Suzy was waiting. "Well?" Lisa smiled. "All done." "Any trouble?" "No." "Good." A pause. Then Lisa added: "He asked whether he could return tomorrow." Suzy stared. Then slowly closed her eyes. "Oh, for FUCK'S sake." Lisa began laughing. Suzy looked at her. "What did you say?" "That he should learn to take no for an answer first." Suzy nodded. "Excellent." They looked at each other. Then both started laughing. Some lessons were expensive. Some were apparently impossible. ### 11:13 PM — Back to the Music Marco saw Lena coming before she reached the bar. He stood. Smiled. And opened his arms. She stepped into them. "Hello, darling." "Hello." He kissed her. Warmly. Without hesitation. Then drew back just enough to look at her. "You look happy." Lena smiled. "I am." "Good." Bea stood beside them, looking extremely pleased with the evening. Marco turned toward her. "And you?" Bea raised an eyebrow. "Me?" "Did you enjoy yourself?" Her smile widened. "Immensely." Marco laughed. "Excellent." Lena caught his hand. Then smiled. "Thank you." He looked surprised. "For?" "For not making tonight complicated." Marco shook his head. "Darling, you're the one who decided we should come here." "True." "And I believe you mentioned doing something outrageous." "Occasionally." He smiled. "Well, I'd say you're off to a good start." Bea burst out laughing. Lena regarded her husband. Then caught his face between her hands and kissed him. He answered with enthusiasm. When they separated, Marco looked delighted. "What was that for?" "Being wonderful." He considered. "An entirely reasonable explanation." Bea shook her head. "Christ, you two are adorable." Lena glanced toward her. "Oh, don't worry. You're included." Bea raised an eyebrow. "Am I?" Lena offered her hand. "Dance?" Bea smiled. "With pleasure." Marco held out his other hand. And the three of them returned to the music. --- At the bar, Anna was finishing a drink after her own private appointment. The woman who had booked her had already departed. They'd enjoyed their time together. The professional terms had been clear. The encounter had been a success. And Anna was particularly pleased by the fact that she'd been approached initially because somebody genuinely wanted to hear what she thought. Suzy stopped beside her. "How was it?" Anna smiled. "Very good." "Everything comfortable?" "Yes." "Need anything?" "Another water." Suzy nodded. "Coming." Anna looked toward the dance floor. Lena, Marco, and Bea were laughing together. She smiled. Then glanced toward the Wild Muses display. "Interesting evening." Suzy followed her gaze. "Rather." Anna considered. "How many cards have been offered?" Suzy checked her agent. Then laughed. "Enough that we're going to need a better sorting system tomorrow." Anna smiled. "Brenda will enjoy hearing that." Suzy looked suspicious. "Will she?" "Oh, enormously." "Wonderful." Anna laughed. ### 11:26 PM — A Satisfied Client Nova returned to Madame Panam with Della beside her. Della carried her own jacket. Nova carried the detached leash. Both looked relaxed. Both were smiling. Vega noticed immediately. Her grin was merciless. "Oh, well." Nova turned. "Don't." Vega raised an eyebrow. "Don't what?" "Whatever you're about to say." "Wasn't going to say anything." "You're lying." "Professionally." Della burst out laughing. Panam looked toward Nova. "Sweetheart." Nova turned. "Owner." She offered her leash. Panam accepted. Click. Then drew Nova into a brief, affectionate embrace. "Welcome back." Nova smiled. "Thank you." Panam studied her. "Feeling all right?" "Very." "Need a break?" Nova glanced toward Della. Then back. "I'd like one." "Good. Take it." Panam kissed her cheek. "Anything you need?" "Water. Perhaps food." Panam nodded. "Both." Della smiled. "Excellent service." Panam turned toward her. "Happy with your appointment?" Della's expression warmed. "Very." "Good." Nova looked at her. Della looked back. Then smiled. "I think I'll be coming back." Vega laughed. "Careful. That sounded like a threat." Della grinned. "Perhaps it was." Nova smiled. "An extremely welcome one." They headed toward the quieter seating area. Vega watched them go. Then shook her head. "Oh, she's going to be fucking unbearable." Panam raised an eyebrow. "Nova?" Vega smiled. "Absolutely." ### 11:41 PM — Professional Satisfaction Mira emerged from the private corridor with Mandi, Dalia, and Deja. The booking had ended on time. The club system showed one shared suite with three separately completed professional appointments: Mandi’s under Madame Panam, Dalia’s and Deja’s under Suzy. Three separate fees. Three independently accepted bookings. No ambiguity about what the crimson card had meant. Mira looked delighted. Dalia was smiling. Deja looked wonderfully relaxed. And Mandi was wearing the expression of a woman who considered herself personally responsible for several recent improvements to the universe. Suzy glanced toward the group. Then smiled. "Everything go well?" Mira laughed. "Exceptionally." "Good." She looked toward Deja. "Comfortable?" Deja nodded. "Very." Then toward Dalia. "All well?" "Yes." Finally, Mandi. Suzy raised an eyebrow. Mandi grinned. "FUCKING MAGNIFICENT." Suzy closed her eyes. "Of course." Mira burst out laughing. "She hasn't changed." Dalia smiled. "Not remotely." Deja tilted her head. "Would we want her to?" Mira considered. Then shook her head. "Absolutely not." Mandi spread her arms. "THANK YOU." They approached Panam. Mandi offered her detached leash. Panam accepted it. Click. Then caught her pet in a warm embrace. "Welcome back, trouble." Mandi grinned. "Hello, Owner." Panam kissed her. "How are you feeling?" "Wonderful." "Tired?" "A little." "Anything bothering you?" Mandi considered. "No." "Good." Panam studied her for another moment. Then smiled. "Water. Food. And no running off into another appointment for a while." Mandi sighed theatrically. "Oppression." "Care." "Fascism." "Sandwich." Mandi stopped. Panam raised an eyebrow. "Thought so." Mira nearly folded in half laughing. Dalia covered her mouth. Deja smiled sweetly. "An extraordinarily effective negotiation." Panam laughed. "Years of experience." She steered Mandi toward the table where food had already arrived. Mandi followed without protest. Which told Panam everything she needed to know about how hungry her pet actually was. Dalia and Deja settled nearby. Mira took the seat beside them. Nobody was embarrassed by the fact that a client had just spent a substantial amount of money on an appointment with three women she genuinely liked. They had agreed to it. They had enjoyed themselves. And now the booking was complete. What remained at the table was familiar warmth, laughter, and the possibility of continuing to enjoy one another's company without pretending the appointment hadn't been professional. Della arrived a few minutes later. She spotted Mira immediately. Then stopped. Looked at the four women. And raised an eyebrow. "Well." Mira turned. "Oh, hello." Della approached. "Having fun?" Mira smiled. "Rather." Della looked at Mandi. Mandi grinned. Then at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Then at Deja. Deja regarded her with perfectly innocent interest. Della slowly began laughing. "Oh, fuck." Mira folded her arms. "What?" "You." "Me?" "All of you." Mandi looked offended. "We are respectable professionals." Della stared. Then began laughing harder. Nova, arriving behind her, shook her head. "That's the most outrageous thing you've said all evening." Mandi looked delighted. "THANK YOU." Vega joined them. Then looked around. At Mira and Della. At Mandi, Dalia, and Deja. At Nova. At the extraordinary collection of smiles. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Della turned. "What?" Vega grinned. "Apparently everybody's having an excellent evening." Mira smiled. "Yes." Nova nodded. "Very." Mandi raised her sandwich. "FUCKING YES." Deja looked toward Dalia. Then smiled. "Should we tell them?" Dalia raised an eyebrow. "Tell them what?" Deja glanced around the group. Then said, in her most deceptively gentle voice: "That it's not even midnight?" There was a brief silence. Then Mandi began laughing. Mira followed. Della shook her head. Nova smiled. Vega raised her glass. "Jesus Christ." Dalia caught Deja's hand. "You are absolutely impossible." Deja smiled. "Excellent company." ### 11:53 PM — The Night Is Not Finished Behind the bar, Suzy checked the club's activity display. Several private suites were occupied. Others were turning over. The Wild Muses cards were circulating steadily. Conversation proposals had proved far more popular than expected. Performance suggestions were becoming increasingly inventive. The crimson invitations were producing real inquiries, real negotiations, and real appointments. Exactly as intended. Not every invitation had been accepted. Not every accepted card had become a booking. And not every conversation had led anywhere beyond itself. Suzy was rather pleased with all three facts. Lisa approached. "Quiet now?" Suzy laughed. "Are you fucking kidding?" Lisa grinned. "Thought I'd ask." "Any more trouble?" "Nothing serious." "Good." Lisa glanced toward the Wild Muses display. Then toward the table where Panam sat with Sera and Nadia. "How are the artists?" "Fine." "Good." Suzy looked toward the entrance. New guests were arriving. Several had clearly come because word of the evening was spreading. A woman approached the bar holding a violet card. A man behind her was reading the rules for a Private Invitation with an expression of genuine curiosity. Another guest was asking whether Anna might be interested in discussing a particularly strange proposal. Across the room, Nadia had finished eating and was looking toward the crowd. Sera stood beside her. Panam noticed. "Interested in going back out?" Nadia smiled. "Yes, Owner." Sera nodded. "Me too." Panam regarded them. Both had recovered from their disappointing conversation with Julian. Both were comfortable. Neither was being hurried. She smiled. "All right." Nadia kissed her. Sera followed. Then the two artists turned toward the club, ready to consider fresh invitations and, perhaps, something genuinely worth accepting. Near the dance floor, Lena was laughing with Marco and Bea. Marco had discovered that Bea possessed a wicked sense of humor when sufficiently encouraged. Lena was doing an excellent job of encouraging her. Mandi, restored by food, was already making outrageous suggestions about the next Performance challenge. Mira and Della were considering whether they wanted another drink. Nova and Vega were arguing about something that appeared to involve the merits of dancing in expensive shoes. Dalia had acquired a fresh menthol lollipop. Deja looked entirely too pleased with whatever she'd just whispered in her ear. Anna was listening to a new proposal. And Madame Panam was watching over her people with the affection and practiced judgment that made the whole extraordinary arrangement work. Suzy looked at the clock. 11:58 PM. She smiled. Then reached for her drink. "Well." Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Well?" Suzy looked toward the crowded room. "Looks like the show's finally getting started." Lisa laughed. "About fucking time." --- ## Chapter 4 — After Midnight, Before Common Sense Friday, November 1, 2077 — Lizzie's, 11:58 PM Suzy Q had three rules about running a successful nightclub. First, keep the customers happy. Second, keep the staff happier. Third, never let Mandi near anything that could reasonably be described as an operational control. The third rule was relatively new. It had also proved considerably more difficult to enforce than the first two. "Mandi." "What?" "Put that down." Mandi looked at the object in her hand. Then at Suzy. "It's a card." "I know." "A PERFORMANCE card." "I'm familiar with the product." "Then why—" "Because you're standing next to the lighting controls." Mandi looked offended. "Scientific curiosity." "That's what you said about the cocktail dispenser." "THE COCKTAIL DISPENSER SURVIVED!" Lisa, passing behind them, stopped. "Mostly." Mandi turned. "TRAITOR!" Lisa smiled. "Still finding sticky patches." Suzy closed her eyes. "It was three weeks ago." "Two weeks and six days," Lisa corrected. "Thank you, Lisa." "You're welcome." Dalia arrived beside Mandi, one hand holding Deja's leash and the other occupied with her familiar menthol lollipop. She regarded the situation. Then looked toward Suzy. "Would you like me to remove her?" "Please." Mandi gasped. "MY OWN GIRLFRIEND!" Dalia smiled. "Come along, darling." "BETRAYAL!" Deja considered. "Actually, I think it would qualify as preventative maintenance." Lisa burst out laughing. Mandi looked between the three women. Then slowly smiled. "Oh." Suzy immediately became suspicious. "No." "I haven't said anything." "You're about to." Mandi held up the blue card. "I have an idea." Four women sighed simultaneously. The proposal had originated with an elderly woman who apparently considered retirement an excellent opportunity to become everybody else's problem. She was sitting near the bar with two friends. A violet coat hung over the back of her chair. A glass of expensive whiskey stood untouched beside her. And she had been watching the Wild Muses presentation with the delighted curiosity of someone who had spent most of her life being told to behave. Eventually she beckoned Mandi over. "Young lady." Mandi turned. "Yes?" "Are you one of the Muses?" Mandi spread her arms. "THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONE." Dalia called from behind her. "Debatable." Deja smiled sweetly. "Very." The elderly woman laughed. "Wonderful. I have a challenge." Mandi leaned closer. "I'm listening." "How good are you at improvisation?" Mandi considered. "Legendarily." "How good are your friends?" "Unfortunately better." The woman smiled. "Excellent." She offered the blue card. PERFORMANCE. Then she explained. "I'd like you to conduct a trial." Mandi blinked. "A trial?" "Yes." "Of whom?" "Anybody you like." "FOR WHAT?" The woman smiled. "Something ridiculous." Mandi stared. Then slowly turned toward Dalia. Dalia closed her eyes. "Oh, no." Mandi's grin became enormous. "Oh, YES." ### 12:04 AM — The People Versus Mandi The case began with a stolen menthol lollipop. Not a hypothetical stolen lollipop. An actual lollipop. Dalia had set it down beside her drink. Mandi had taken it. And Dalia had noticed. Naturally. "MANDI." Mandi stopped. Slowly turned. Looked at Dalia. Then at the lollipop in her hand. "What?" Deja smiled. "Oh, this is excellent." The elderly woman leaned forward. "Is that the defendant?" Dalia pointed. "Yes." Mandi looked scandalized. "ALLEGEDLY!" "You have my lollipop." "Circumstantial." "It's in your hand." "Possession is not proof of ownership." Deja nodded thoughtfully. "Technically, she's correct." Dalia stared at her. "Deja." "What?" "Whose side are you on?" Deja smiled. "The side of justice." Mandi brightened. "THANK YOU!" A pause. "Which is why I think you should be found guilty." Mandi's mouth fell open. The elderly woman began laughing. Within two minutes, the surrounding tables had become interested. Within four, Vega had volunteered to defend the accused. Within five, Nova had been appointed prosecutor. By minute six, Suzy was seriously considering whether she had accidentally opened a legal practice. Vega stood before the improvised court with the bearing of a woman who had absolutely no legal training and considered that an advantage. "Ladies, gentlemen, and anybody sensible enough not to identify as either—" Nova interrupted. "Objection." Vega turned. "To what?" "Your entire opening." "Fuck off." "Professional language." "Professional objection." Deja, seated behind a small table as the presiding judge, struck the surface with a cocktail stirrer. "Order." Mandi looked delighted. "THIS IS AMAZING." Deja turned toward her. "The defendant will remain silent." Mandi stared. Then whispered: "Fascism." Deja smiled. "Contempt of court." Dalia almost lost her lollipop. The elderly woman was laughing so hard that one of her friends had to steady her glass. Nova approached the accused. "Mandi." Mandi sat up. "Yes?" "Did you take Dalia's lollipop?" "No." Nova looked at her hand. Mandi looked down. There it was. Still there. Nova raised an eyebrow. "Interesting." Mandi considered. Then smiled. "I found it." "Where?" "On the table." "Beside Dalia's drink?" "Yes." "Where Dalia had put it?" "Allegedly." Nova nodded. Then looked toward Deja. "The prosecution rests." Vega sprang to her feet. "OBJECTION!" Deja closed her eyes. "On what grounds?" "She hasn't established intent." Nova stared. "Intent?" Vega grinned. "My client may have been protecting the lollipop." Dalia began laughing. "FROM WHAT?" Vega considered. "Unsupervised exposure to nightclub conditions." Mandi pointed triumphantly. "EXACTLY!" Deja tapped the table. "Defendant." Mandi sat back. "Sorry, Your Gorgeousness." The audience erupted. The verdict was inevitable. "Guilty," Deja announced. Mandi gasped. "OUTRAGEOUS." "Sentence," Deja continued, "one sincere apology to Dalia." Mandi looked horrified. "PUBLICLY?" "Yes." "CRUEL AND UNUSUAL." Deja smiled. "And restitution." Mandi stared. "What restitution?" Deja looked toward the bowl of wrapped lollipops behind the bar. "One replacement." Dalia raised an eyebrow. "One?" Deja considered. "Six." Mandi's eyes widened. "SIX?" Deja smiled. "With interest." Vega burst out laughing. Nova bowed to the audience. The elderly woman began applauding. Mandi rose. Walked toward Dalia. Took both her hands. And looked into her eyes with such elaborate sincerity that Dalia immediately started laughing. "My darling." "Oh, God." "My beautiful, generous, magnificent girlfriend." "Mandi." "I deeply regret—" Deja tapped the table. "Truthfully." Mandi stopped. Considered. Then sighed. "Fine." She looked at Dalia. "I'm sorry I stole your lollipop." Dalia smiled. "Thank you." Mandi leaned closer. Then added: "It was a wonderful lollipop." And kissed her. Dalia answered the kiss. When they separated, Mandi grinned. "Sentence served." Deja shook her head. "Restitution remains outstanding." Mandi stared. Then looked toward Suzy. "CAN I PUT SIX LOLLIPOPS ON MY TAB?" Suzy, laughing helplessly, nodded. "Fine." Deja tapped the table one final time. "Case closed." The applause surprised even Suzy. People had been watching from nearby tables, laughing and offering increasingly ridiculous legal advice. The elderly woman rose, approached Deja, and handed her a fresh blue card. "Excellent work, Your Honor." Deja smiled. "Thank you." "Would you consider a career in law?" Deja considered. Then looked toward Mandi. "Only if all my clients were this easy to convict." Mandi threw both hands into the air. "FUCK YOU!" The woman burst out laughing again. Then caught Deja's hand. "That was the most fun I've had in years." Deja's expression softened. "I'm very glad." The woman smiled at all three women. Then returned to her table. Suzy watched her go. Lisa approached. "Well." Suzy shook her head. "Not one broken glass." "Not one complaint." "And Mandi never touched the lighting controls." Lisa smiled. "Miracles do happen." They looked toward Mandi. She was inspecting the bowl of lollipops. Apparently calculating the least expensive method of meeting her court-ordered obligations. Suzy sighed. "Sometimes." ### 12:21 AM — An Artist Returns Sera was sitting beside Panam when the sound designer approached again. He carried a small case. And a violet card. He stopped at a respectful distance. "Good evening." Sera looked up. Then smiled. "Oh! Hello." Panam glanced toward him. Sera's hair lifted slightly. "Did you bring something?" He smiled. "I did." She brightened. "Something finished?" "Well..." Sera laughed. "Oh, dear." The man looked embarrassed. "Something I've decided to stop improving." Sera considered. "That's a very good beginning." Panam smiled. "Can I help you?" The man nodded. "I'd like to book a private conversation with Sera." Panam regarded him. "About the work?" "Yes." "Five million eddies for an agreed conversation. She decides whether she's interested." "Understood." Sera looked at the case. Then at him. "May I ask what's inside?" "A piece I've been working on for six months." Her eyes brightened. "And you've brought it here?" "Yes." "Why?" He smiled. "Because I think you might understand why I can't leave it alone." Sera considered. Then nodded. "I'd like to hear it." Panam looked toward her. "You're sure, sweetheart?" "Yes, Owner." "All right." The man transferred five million eddies. Panam confirmed it. Then unclipped Sera's leash. Click. She handed it over. Sera leaned down to kiss her. Panam caught her close for a moment. "Enjoy yourself, pet." "I will." The sound designer picked up his case. Sera took his offered hand. And the two headed toward a private conversation suite. --- The case contained a small playback system. Not expensive. Not fashionable. A practical arrangement of components built by somebody who cared more about what came out of the speakers than what the equipment looked like. Sera approved immediately. "May I?" The man nodded. "Please." She examined the controls. Then looked up. "Headphones?" "Yes." He offered them. Sera settled into a chair. Put them on. And pressed play. For several seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Then she heard it. A room. Not music. Not exactly sound effects. The impression of a room slowly becoming occupied. Footsteps. A chair shifting. A distant breath. The faint electrical hum of equipment somewhere beyond the listener's immediate attention. Then something changed. A voice almost emerged. But didn't. Sera went still. The air around her shifted slightly. The man noticed. Said nothing. The recording continued. And then, unexpectedly, the room seemed to disappear. Not into silence. Into absence. The sound of a place where somebody important was no longer present. Sera closed her eyes. She listened to the entire piece. When it ended, she didn't remove the headphones immediately. The sound designer waited. Finally, she took them off. Set them carefully on the table. And looked at him. "Who was it?" He went very still. "Who was what?" "The person who isn't there." The man's expression changed. He looked down. Then smiled faintly. "My wife." Sera nodded. She didn't ask where the woman had gone. Didn't assume death. Didn't demand a story. She waited. After a moment, he continued. "We separated three years ago." Sera listened. "Not badly. Not cruelly. We just..." He searched for the words. "...stopped being the people we'd been together." Sera nodded. "And the piece?" He looked at the small playback system. "I kept trying to make the ending less lonely." Sera regarded him. Then said: "Perhaps it isn't lonely." He looked up. "What?" "Perhaps it's simply honest." He considered. Sera continued. "The space after somebody leaves is still part of the relationship. It doesn't become meaningless because nobody's standing in it anymore." The man stared at her. Then looked down. For a long moment, neither spoke. Finally, he smiled. "That's what I've been trying to understand." Sera smiled back. "Then perhaps your work is finished." He laughed softly. "Perhaps." She looked at the case. Then at him. "I think it's beautiful." His expression changed. "Really?" "Yes." "Thank you." Sera's smile softened. "You're welcome." They talked for another twenty minutes. About sound. Memory. How architecture could shape emotion without anybody consciously noticing. About the terrible difficulty of knowing when to stop changing something simply because the tools made changing it possible. The man listened as much as he spoke. Sera liked that. He didn't try to impress her with money. Didn't mention her reputation. Didn't ask how much access he might purchase. He asked what she heard. And actually cared about the answer. When their conversation approached its agreed end, he packed away the equipment. Then hesitated. Sera noticed. "Something else?" He smiled. "Possibly." She waited. "I'd like to spend more time with you." Sera considered. "Talking?" "Talking, certainly." "And?" He looked at her. Then answered without pretending. "I find you very attractive. But I don't want to assume you'd welcome anything beyond conversation." Sera smiled. "Thank you." The man looked slightly embarrassed. "Was that terribly awkward?" "A little." "Oh, God." Sera laughed. "But sweet." He smiled. "That's encouraging." She studied him for a moment. Then nodded. "I'd be interested in a private appointment." He brightened. "Really?" "Yes. But we'd arrange it separately with my Owner." "Of course." "And it's a completely new decision, for both of us." He nodded. "Understood." Sera smiled. "Good." They returned to Panam together. Sera offered her leash. Panam accepted it. Click. Then drew her close. "Hello, sweetheart." Sera kissed her. "Hello, Owner." Panam studied her face. "Good conversation?" Sera nodded enthusiastically. "Very." "How are you feeling?" "Wonderful." Panam smiled. "Need anything?" "Water, please." Panam handed her a glass. Already waiting. Sera laughed. "You knew." "I know my girl." Sera kissed her cheek. The sound designer waited without interrupting. When Panam turned toward him, he smiled. "Thank you for arranging the conversation." "You're welcome." He glanced toward Sera. Then back. "We'd like to discuss a separate private appointment." Panam looked toward her pet. Sera nodded. "I'd like that, Owner." Panam smiled. "All right. Tell me what you're considering." The new arrangement took several minutes. Not because anybody was trying to make it difficult. Because the conversation booking had ended. The next decision belonged to a different agreement. The sound designer requested ninety minutes. Sera preferred an hour. They agreed on an hour, with the option of discussing an extension later if both wanted it. Panam stated the separate offer she was willing to consider. "Eighteen million eddies for one private hour with Sera, subject to her agreement and continuing choice." The man nodded. "Agreed." Panam looked toward Sera. "Still interested, sweetheart?" Sera smiled. "Yes." "Anything you'd like included or excluded?" Sera considered. Then spoke with the easy confidence of someone who knew what she wanted. The sound designer listened. Answered. And made a few preferences of his own clear. Nobody confused paying for the appointment with purchasing unrestricted access. Nobody pretended the professional arrangement erased the genuine attraction that had developed. When they were satisfied, the man transferred eighteen million eddies. Panam confirmed the payment. Suzy arranged a private suite for the hour. Panam turned toward her pet once more. "Ready?" Sera smiled. "Yes, Owner." Click. The leash came free. Panam handed it to her. Then kissed her warmly. "Have a lovely time, sweetheart." Sera's hair lifted. "I intend to." --- The private appointment began quietly. The sound designer had left his equipment in the conversation suite. There was no reason to bring it here. He stopped just inside the door. Sera turned. "What?" He smiled. "Nothing." She laughed. "That's suspicious." "I was trying to think of something clever to say." "Did you succeed?" "No." Sera smiled. "Good." He looked puzzled. "Good?" "Now you can say something honest." He considered. Then smiled. "I'm happy you wanted to come with me." Sera's expression warmed. "That's much better." She stepped closer. Touched his hand. And kissed him. He answered gently. For a moment, they remained close, enjoying the unfamiliar but welcome tenderness. Then Sera smiled. "See?" He laughed softly. "What?" "Much better than a clever opening." "Considerably." They moved toward the sofa together, leaving the music and the club outside the door. They reached the sofa still kissing. Sera’s hand found the front of his shirt and stayed there, not undoing anything yet, simply resting against the warmth underneath. He answered by drawing her closer, careful of her hair when it lifted and brushed his cheek. “You still want this?” she asked against his mouth. “Yes.” They undressed each other without urgency. His jacket went first, then her outfit in stages; she kept the collar. When they were bare he looked at her for a moment, expression open, and Sera smiled before guiding him down onto the sofa with her. She settled astride his thighs, reached between them, and took him in slowly, both of them exhaling at the same time. The angle let her control the depth. She moved in small, precise rolls of her hips rather than rising far, watching his face. “Like that?” she asked. “Exactly like that.” His hands rested at her waist, thumbs stroking, not directing. Sera leaned forward once, changing the angle, and felt the way his breath caught. She stayed with the rhythm until her own pleasure built and broke; she came with a soft sound and her forehead against his, hair lifting in a bright ripple around them. He followed a minute later, arms tightening, a low sound against her shoulder. They stayed joined while the intensity eased. Sera kissed him once more, then lifted herself carefully and settled beside him instead, one leg still hooked over his. The room was quiet except for their breathing and the faint residual hum of the club beyond the door. When they finally rested together afterward, the sound designer looked at her with unmistakable gratitude. "Thank you." Sera smiled. "You're welcome." A pause. Then she asked: "Are you going to finish that recording?" He laughed softly. "Yes." "Good." He considered. Then added: "Although I may start another." Sera's hair lifted. "Oh?" He smiled. "Something happier." She laughed. "Don't force it." "No." "Let it become whatever it wants to be." He nodded. Then smiled. "I think that's the best advice I've had in years." Sera leaned closer and kissed him. "Then keep it." ### 12:46 AM — Nadia Finds an Interesting Woman Nadia was examining a red card when the woman approached. The card wasn't hers. It belonged to Mandi, who had been explaining why Private Invitation sounded considerably more elegant than Would You Like to Get Into Trouble With Me? Nadia had listened. Considered. Then replied: "Because most people would prefer the invitation to arrive before the trouble." Deja had laughed. Mandi had looked wounded. And Panam, returning from arranging Sera's appointment, had discovered her girlfriend holding a crimson card with a particularly dangerous smile. "Absolutely not," Panam said. Nadia looked up. "What?" "Whatever Mandi's suggested." "I haven't suggested anything!" Mandi protested. Panam raised an eyebrow. Mandi considered. "Recently." Dalia sighed. "That distinction isn't helping." The woman waiting a few steps away began laughing. Nadia noticed her. Turned. And smiled. "Hello." The woman inclined her head. "Good evening." She was beautifully dressed, though not particularly interested in advertising it. Dark trousers. A fitted jacket. Jewelry that looked expensive without trying to prove it. One hand held a violet card. The other held a small silver object. Nadia immediately looked at the object. "Oh." The woman smiled. "I hoped you'd notice." Nadia leaned closer. "May I?" "Of course." She offered it. A tiny piece of sculpted silver. Irregular. Asymmetrical. One side polished almost to a mirror. The other left rough enough to catch the light in unpredictable ways. Nadia turned it carefully between her fingers. Then smiled. "That's beautiful." "Thank you." "Yours?" "Yes." "Really?" The woman laughed. "Really." Nadia looked up. "You're an artist?" "Sometimes. Mostly I restore things other people have given up on." Nadia brightened. "Oh, that's interesting." Panam watched the exchange. Then glanced toward Mandi. Mandi was grinning. Panam narrowed her eyes. "Don't." Mandi raised both hands. "I SAID NOTHING!" Dalia caught her by the arm. "Come on." "But—" "Come on." Deja waved cheerfully. "Enjoy your conversation!" Mandi looked betrayed. The three departed. Nadia turned back toward the woman. "Sorry." The woman laughed. "Your friends?" "Yes." "Always like that?" Nadia considered. "Occasionally worse." "Wonderful." Nadia smiled. "What's the card for?" The woman held it out. "Conversation. But I understand there are separate arrangements for you." Nadia nodded. "Yes." "I'd like to book one." Panam stepped forward. "Then let's discuss it." The woman hadn't come to Lizzie's to collect an experience she could describe at her next corporate dinner. She'd come because she'd seen Nadia's work. Not a photograph. Not a review. The work itself. She described an installation she'd encountered during an earlier exhibition and explained what she'd found compelling about it. The way it changed depending on where somebody stood. How the eye tried to complete shapes that weren't actually there. The strange irritation of discovering that moving closer didn't necessarily reveal more. Nadia listened with increasing interest. Then asked: "What did you think it meant?" The woman smiled. "I don't know." Nadia's expression brightened. "Good answer." "Is it?" "Excellent." "I thought you might be disappointed." "Why?" "Because I couldn't explain it." Nadia laughed. "I didn't make it to be explained." The woman considered. "Then why did you make it?" Nadia smiled. "That's a much better question." Panam cleared her throat gently. Nadia turned. Then laughed. "Right." The woman looked toward Panam. "I'd like the proper appointment." Panam nodded. "Five million eddies for a private conversation with Nadia, if she's interested." The woman smiled. "I understand." Panam turned. "Sweetheart?" Nadia considered. Then nodded. "Yes, Owner. I'd like to talk to her." "Good." The payment was confirmed. Panam unclipped Nadia's leash. Click. She handed it over. Nadia kissed her. "See you soon." Panam smiled. "Enjoy yourself, beautiful." Nadia took the woman's hand. Then looked at the silver object. "Bring that." The woman laughed. "I was hoping you'd say that." --- The conversation room was smaller than the one Julian Voss had occupied earlier. Nadia preferred it. The lighting was warm. The furniture simple. And there wasn't a single advertisement promising an exclusive experience of artistic greatness. She considered that a significant improvement. The woman placed the small silver sculpture on the table. Nadia sat opposite her. Then smiled. "Tell me about the rough side." The woman looked surprised. "What?" "This." Nadia pointed. "Why didn't you polish it?" Her guest smiled. "Because I liked it." Nadia waited. The woman considered. Then answered more carefully. "The metal had a flaw." "All right." "I could have removed it." "But?" "But the flaw was part of why I wanted to work with the piece in the first place." Nadia smiled. "Exactly." They talked. Really talked. Not about investment portfolios. Not about how much fame either woman could generate for somebody else. About making things. About the pleasure of working with materials that refused to behave. About mistakes that improved the final result. About the peculiar difference between repairing a thing and erasing the evidence that it had ever been damaged. Nadia was enjoying herself enormously. Then the woman asked: "May I tell you something slightly embarrassing?" Nadia smiled. "Please." "I was very nervous about approaching you." "Why?" "Because you're Nadia." Nadia blinked. Then laughed. "Oh, for fuck's sake." The woman looked horrified. "I'm sorry." "No!" Nadia reached across the table and caught her hand. "Don't apologize." "Are you sure?" "Yes." She smiled. "It's just that people have this wonderful habit of turning me into something I'm not." The woman considered. "An icon?" "Sometimes." "A mystery?" "Frequently." "An exceptionally difficult woman?" Nadia grinned. "That one's true." The woman laughed. Nadia squeezed her hand. "Look. I'm an artist. I make things. I have opinions. I love people. Occasionally I make spectacularly bad decisions." "That sounds reassuringly human." "Exactly." The woman smiled. Then looked toward their joined hands. "May I ask another question?" "Of course." "Would you like to spend more time with me?" Nadia considered. "Possibly." "Not necessarily talking about art." Nadia's smile widened. "Oh?" The woman met her eyes. "I find you extraordinarily attractive." Nadia laughed softly. "Well, that's encouraging." "And I'd rather tell you plainly than spend twenty minutes pretending my interest is entirely professional." Nadia leaned back. Then smiled. "God, that's refreshing." The woman laughed. "Is it?" "Very." Nadia considered her for another moment. Then asked: "What would you like?" "Your company. Somewhere private. And whatever affection we'd both genuinely enjoy." Nadia nodded slowly. "That's a good answer." "Does that mean you're interested?" Nadia smiled. "Yes." The woman looked delighted. Nadia leaned forward. "But we'll make a separate arrangement with my Owner." "Of course." "And I'm not promising anything beyond what I decide I want." "Understood." Nadia grinned. "Good." ### 1:18 AM — A Better Offer Panam was waiting at her table when Nadia returned. She looked up. Saw the smile. And immediately smiled back. "Well." Nadia approached. "Well?" "That looks promising." Nadia offered her leash. Panam accepted it. Click. Then drew Nadia close and kissed her. "Hello, sweetheart." "Hello, Owner." Panam brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "How are you feeling?" "Wonderful." "Need anything?" "Water." Panam handed her a glass. Nadia drank. Then smiled. "Thank you." "Of course." Her guest waited nearby, allowing the reunion its own space. When Panam looked toward her, the woman smiled. "Thank you for arranging the conversation." "You're welcome." Nadia leaned comfortably against Panam. "Owner?" "Yes?" "I'd like another booking with her." Panam studied her. "Privately?" "Yes." "For how long?" "An hour." The woman nodded. "That would be lovely." Panam looked between them. Then smiled. "All right." She discussed the proposed appointment with both women. The guest requested an hour together. Nadia agreed. Panam stated the separate fee. "Sixteen million eddies for one private hour. The arrangement covers only what Nadia independently agrees to." The woman nodded. "Agreed." Panam looked toward Nadia. "Still what you want?" "Yes, Owner." They discussed their expectations without embarrassment. Both wanted privacy. Both welcomed affectionate intimacy if their mutual interest continued. Neither wanted additional participants. And neither wanted the evening to become an exercise in pretending the other's preferences were irrelevant. Panam was satisfied. So was Nadia. The guest transferred sixteen million eddies. Panam confirmed payment. Suzy arranged the private suite. Then Panam turned back toward Nadia. "Ready, sweetheart?" Nadia smiled. "Yes." Click. The leash came free. Panam placed it in Nadia's hand. Then kissed her. "Enjoy yourself." Nadia's grin became wicked. "That's the plan, Owner." Panam laughed. "Behave." Nadia considered. Then shook her head. "No promises." The woman beside her burst out laughing. Panam sighed. "Wonderful." And Nadia led her new acquaintance toward the private corridor. --- The suite was comfortable. Well-lit. And, most importantly, quiet enough to hear one another without shouting. Nadia set her leash aside. Then turned. The woman was still holding the small silver sculpture. Nadia smiled. "You're bringing that everywhere?" The woman laughed. "Apparently." "May I see it again?" She handed it over. Nadia studied the imperfect surface. Then placed it carefully on the table. "You know something?" "What?" "I like that you didn't try to fix the flaw." The woman smiled. "Thank you." Nadia looked toward her. Then stepped closer. "And I like that you weren't afraid to tell me what you wanted." Her guest's expression softened. "Neither were you." "No." Nadia smiled. "I'm not particularly good at pretending." "I've noticed." "Good." She caught the woman's hand. "May I kiss you?" The answer came with a smile. "Please." Nadia kissed her. Warmly. Deliberately. The woman answered, drawing her closer. When they separated, Nadia smiled. "Well." Her guest laughed. "Well?" "That was worth asking." "Very." They moved toward the sofa together. The attraction between them no longer needed to be disguised as artistic conversation. They could still talk about sculpture whenever they wanted. But their reason for being here had become something different. Something both had freely chosen. Nadia drew her closer again, letting her know the first kiss had not been a formality. They reached the sofa still kissing. Nadia’s hand slid under the edge of the woman’s jacket and stayed there, palm flat against warm skin. The woman answered by drawing her closer, one knee shifting so Nadia could settle more fully against her. “You still want this?” Nadia asked. “Yes.” They undressed in stages between kisses. The small imperfect silver sculpture remained on the table, catching the light. Nadia kept the collar; the detached leash lay within reach but unused. When they were bare she guided the woman down onto the sofa and followed, settling between her thighs. She used her mouth first, unhurried and attentive, one hand braced at the woman’s hip. The woman came with a quiet, surprised sound and a hand that tightened briefly in Nadia’s hair, then loosened. Nadia kissed her way back up. The woman drew her closer so they lay facing each other, one thigh between Nadia’s. She returned the attention with her hand, fingers careful and curious in the way she handled the sculpture on the table—testing edges, adjusting when Nadia’s breath changed. Nadia answered with the same directness, her own hand moving in counterpoint. They stayed pressed together, mouths close, until Nadia came with a low sound against the woman’s shoulder. The woman followed moments later, forehead resting against Nadia’s, breathing hard. They stayed close afterward, trading slower kisses. Nadia’s hand rested against the side of the woman’s neck. Neither spoke for a while. The sculpture remained exactly where it had been. The woman reached for Nadia's hand. Nadia smiled. "What?" Her companion laughed softly. "Nothing." "That's a terrible answer." "I know." "Try again." The woman considered. Then said: "I'm very glad I came here tonight." Nadia's expression warmed. "So am I." They remained close for another moment. Then Nadia looked toward the table. At the little silver sculpture. And grinned. "One thing." The woman raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Don't you dare polish that rough side." Her guest burst out laughing. "God, you're impossible." "Yes." Nadia kissed her. "Apparently you've noticed." ### 1:43 AM — A Completely Reasonable Proposal While Nadia was occupied, the Wild Muses cards continued to produce interesting results. Not all of them romantic. Some were downright ridiculous. A woman approached Anna with a blue card and asked whether she could conduct a formal job interview for the position of Night City's Most Unnecessary Luxury Product. Anna considered. Then nodded. "Yes." The woman looked delighted. "Really?" "Provided I get to decide what the product is." "Agreed." Anna thought for a moment. Then looked toward the bar. "Excellent. I have just the thing." Five minutes later, she had persuaded two guests, one bartender, and a thoroughly amused Vega to participate in the unveiling of an imaginary commercial product. PREMIUM CORPORATE SILENCE. The advertisement promised complete freedom from unnecessary management commentary. Available in thirty-minute blocks. Subscription pricing upon request. Brenda's professional experience with technology had clearly supplied Vega with several opinions on the subject. "Does it prevent meetings?" Vega asked. Anna nodded solemnly. "All meetings containing the phrase strategic alignment." Vega gasped. "FUCK. I'LL TAKE TWELVE." A man nearby raised his hand. "What about synergy?" Anna considered. "That's the premium tier." The table erupted. Somebody asked whether the product could silence executive presentations. Anna smiled. "For an additional fee." Another guest asked whether it could silence Mandi. Anna looked across the room. Mandi was explaining something extremely animatedly to Mira and Della. She considered. Then sighed. "Unfortunately, that would exceed our technical capabilities." Vega nearly collapsed. Mandi turned. "HEY!" Anna smiled serenely. "See? Impossible." Suzy laughed so hard she had to sit down. The elderly woman who'd commissioned the lollipop trial was still at the bar. She watched the imaginary advertisement with enormous satisfaction. Then looked toward Lisa. "Do you do this every Friday?" Lisa considered. "No." The woman nodded. "Shame." Lisa smiled. "Usually it's worse." The woman laughed. "Wonderful." Then she looked around the club. At the cards. The dancing. The extraordinary variety of people enjoying themselves. And said something that surprised Lisa. "You know, I almost didn't come tonight." Lisa turned. "Oh?" "I thought I'd be too old." Lisa stared. Then shook her head. "Too old for what?" The woman gestured around. "All this." Lisa smiled. "Ma'am, we've got people half your age who couldn't keep up with you." The woman laughed. "Flattery." "Accurate assessment." She considered. Then raised her glass. "Well, perhaps I'll come back." Lisa smiled. "We'd be delighted." The woman looked toward Mandi. Then toward Deja. Then grinned. "Especially if there's another trial." Lisa began laughing. "Oh, I'm sure we can arrange another criminal." At another table, Mira and Della were sharing a plate of food. Mira looked across the room at the latest performance. Then shook her head. "Christ." Della smiled. "What?" "Remember when coming here meant having a drink, meeting somebody attractive, and making a few questionable decisions?" Della considered. "That still happens." "Yes, but now it apparently includes courtroom drama and corporate management satire." Della laughed. "Improvement?" Mira looked toward Mandi. Then Dalia and Deja. Then across the room to Nova. Her smile softened. "Oh, absolutely." Della followed her gaze. Then grinned. "You're thinking about booking them again." Mira raised an eyebrow. "Possibly." "Already?" "Not tonight." "Good." Mira glanced toward her. "Why?" Della smiled. "Because I'd quite like to spend some time with you too." Mira laughed. "Oh, darling." "What?" "I haven't forgotten you." "Good." Mira caught her hand. Then kissed her. Affectionately. Without hurry. When they separated, Della smiled. "Better." Mira grinned. "Thought so." Across the table, Mandi noticed. Then pointed. "OI!" Mira turned. "What?" "NO PUBLIC ROMANCE WITHOUT SHARING!" Della stared. Then burst out laughing. Mira shook her head. "You're insufferable." Mandi grinned. "PROFESSIONAL QUALIFICATION." Dalia caught her by the waist. "Come here." Mandi turned. Dalia kissed her. When they separated, Mandi looked immensely pleased. Then turned back toward Mira. "BETTER!" Deja sighed. "Your Honor, the defendant is reoffending." The entire table collapsed into laughter. ### 2:09 AM — A Finished Piece Sera returned to Panam carrying her detached leash. She looked happy. Not dramatically. Not with the wild excitement that occasionally sent her silver-white hair into a spectacular halo. Quietly happy. Panam noticed. She always did. "Hello, sweetheart." Sera smiled. "Hello, Owner." She offered the leash. Panam accepted it. Click. Then drew her into a warm embrace. "Welcome back, pet." Sera bent to kiss her. Panam answered, then kept her close for a moment. "How are you feeling?" Sera considered. "Very good." "Tired?" "A little." "Anything bothering you?" Sera shook her head. "No. It was a lovely appointment." Panam smiled. "Good." She guided Sera toward the seat beside her. "Sit." Sera laughed softly. "Bossy." "Accurate." Panam handed her a glass of water. Then looked toward Suzy. "Something to eat, please." Sera caught her hand. "Owner?" Panam turned. "Yes?" "Thank you." Her expression softened. "For?" "For making room for things like this." Panam looked at her. Then smiled. "Sweetheart, you made that decision yourself." "I know." Sera squeezed her hand. "But you make it easy to come home afterward." For a moment, Panam didn't answer. Then she drew Sera close again. And kissed her forehead. "Always." --- Lena approached a few minutes later. Marco was beside her. Both looked relaxed, happy, and entirely uninterested in discussing work. Shammy noticed them. Her face lit up. "Oh!" Marco laughed. "Hello, beautiful." She stood. At her full height, she made him look slightly upward. He didn't seem remotely bothered. He opened his arms. She stepped into them. The embrace was warm. Familiar. There was no need to explain how long they'd known one another or what the affection meant. Marco held her close for a moment. Then stepped back. "Good evening." Shammy smiled. "Very good evening." Lena approached next. The two women exchanged a look. Then Lena caught her hand. "Hello, darling." Shammy's expression softened. "Hello." Lena embraced her. Not hurriedly. Not as a performance. Simply because she wanted to. When they separated, Shammy smiled. "You look happy." Lena laughed. "I am." "Good." She looked toward Marco. Then back at Lena. "Both of you?" Marco grinned. "Very." Shammy's hair lifted. Panam watched the exchange with a warm smile. She knew exactly what Marco and Lena meant to her girl. They weren't rivals. They weren't competing for a position. They were people who loved her. And whom she loved in return. Lena glanced toward the glass in Shammy's hand. "Working hard?" Shammy nodded. "A little." "Good night?" "A very good one." Marco looked toward Panam. "Keeping everybody fed?" Panam laughed. "Trying." Lena smiled. "Good." Then she looked at Shammy. "And you? Remembering to rest?" Shammy's expression became suspicious. "Are you two collaborating with Panam?" Marco looked innocent. "Never." Panam laughed. "Constantly." Shammy sighed. "Traitors." Lena kissed her cheek. "Affectionate traitors." Shammy smiled. "Those are the worst kind." Marco glanced toward the dance floor. Then at Panam. Then toward the six portraits above the bar. "Well." Panam raised an eyebrow. "Well?" "I'd say your girls are doing rather well." Panam smiled. "They are." Shammy leaned comfortably against her. Marco considered. Then grinned. "Although I believe Mandi has been convicted of theft." Panam closed her eyes. "Oh, God." Lena began laughing. Shammy looked delighted. "What?" Marco nodded solemnly. "Menthol lollipop." Shammy stared. Then burst out laughing. Panam looked toward Dalia. Then Deja. Then Mandi. "Of course." Marco smiled. "Apparently she owes six replacements." Panam considered. Then shook her head. "Six?" "With interest." Shammy's hair rose sharply. Lena covered her mouth. Panam looked toward the bar. And sighed. "Well, at least she hasn't been arrested by the actual police." Marco grinned. "Give her time." Panam stared at him. Then started laughing. ### 2:24 AM — Nadia Comes Home Nadia returned looking extremely pleased. She carried her detached leash. The small silver sculpture was nowhere to be seen. Its maker had taken it home. Nadia had insisted. Panam looked up. Then smiled. "Hello, beautiful." Nadia approached. "Hello, Owner." She offered her leash. Click. Panam reattached it. Then caught Nadia around the waist and kissed her. Nadia returned the kiss warmly. When they separated, Panam rested her forehead briefly against hers. "How are you feeling?" Nadia smiled. "Wonderful." "Comfortable?" "Very." "Need anything?" Nadia considered. Then nodded. "Water. Food. And perhaps five minutes in which nobody asks me to explain what my art means." Panam burst out laughing. "Done." Nadia leaned against her. Then caught Sera's hand. Sera smiled. "Good appointment?" Nadia nodded. "Beautiful woman." Sera laughed. "Good." "And an actual artist." "Oh!" "Yes." Sera brightened. "What kind?" Nadia grinned. "Metalwork. Restoration. Sculpture." Sera looked delighted. "Tell me everything." Panam caught her gently by the arm. "After she eats." Sera stopped. Then smiled. "Right." Nadia laughed. "Owner has spoken." Panam shook her head. "You're both impossible." Sera smiled. "Yes." Nadia nodded. "Absolutely." Then the two women kissed. Panam watched them. Smiling. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing both of them return from work still full of curiosity and affection. Not diminished. Not exhausted by somebody else's demands. Happy. Chosen. At home with one another. She leaned closer. Caught Nadia's hand in one of hers and Sera's in the other. Then kissed them both. "Come on." Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Where?" "Food." Sera laughed. Nadia sighed theatrically. "Oppression." Panam smiled. "Sandwich." Nadia considered. Then nodded. "Acceptable." --- At 2:37, Suzy found Lisa standing beside the bar. Watching Mandi. This was rarely a reassuring sight. Suzy approached. "Problem?" Lisa shook her head. "Not yet." Suzy followed her gaze. Mandi was standing beside the bowl of lollipops. Dalia watched her. Deja was smiling. Mira and Della were sitting nearby. And Vega was apparently providing completely unsolicited legal advice. Suzy stared. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Lisa nodded. "She's paying her fine." Suzy looked again. Mandi had selected six lollipops. Then arranged them in a neat row. Dalia regarded them. "What's this?" Mandi spread her arms. "RESTITUTION." Deja smiled. "With interest?" "YES." Dalia examined the offering. Then looked toward Deja. "What do you think, Your Honor?" Deja considered. "Acceptable." Mandi looked triumphant. "FUCKING FINALLY!" Deja raised one finger. "However." Mandi froze. "WHAT?" "The original apology was sincere." "YES." "The restitution has been paid." "YES." "But the defendant remains at risk of reoffending." Mandi stared. Then slowly smiled. "Oh." Dalia closed her eyes. "Don't." Mandi reached toward the nearest lollipop. Deja tapped the table. "Defendant." Mandi stopped. Looked at her. Then grinned. "Can't blame a girl for trying." Lisa began laughing. Suzy shook her head. "Jesus Christ." Mira looked toward Della. Della smiled. "Still glad we came?" Mira laughed. "More than ever." --- The club didn't slow down. It changed rhythm. That was different. The early-evening curiosity had turned into the easy familiarity of people who had discovered they were having far too much fun to leave. Some guests had departed. Others had arrived. A few of the early conversations had developed into friendships. Some private bookings had ended. Others were beginning. The dance floor remained busy. The Wild Muses cards continued to circulate. At one table, Anna was discussing an unexpectedly serious question with a guest who had originally approached her as a joke. Near the bar, Vega was trying to persuade Nova that courtroom work would suit her. Nova remained unconvinced. Mandi was enjoying her newfound status as a convicted criminal. Dalia and Deja appeared determined to make that status permanent. Mira and Della were considering another drink. Lena and Marco had found a quieter corner to enjoy one another's company. Bea joined them with a smile that suggested the night still held possibilities. And Madame Panam sat with Sera and Nadia close beside her. Both artists had completed individual successful bookings. Both had chosen their clients. Both had returned happy. And both were now enjoying the comfortable luxury of not having to do anything else unless they wanted to. Panam kissed Sera's cheek. Then Nadia's. And smiled. Across the room, Suzy checked the time. 2:48 AM. Lisa approached. "Well?" Suzy looked up. "What?" "Ready to call it a night?" Suzy stared. Then began laughing. "Are you fucking kidding?" Lisa grinned. "Just checking." Suzy looked toward the crowd. The music. The cards. The remarkable collection of people who seemed determined to prove that Night City could still produce something other than violence, ambition, and spectacularly expensive disappointment. Then she raised her glass. "Let them have their fun." Lisa smiled. "With pleasure." A moment later, Mandi shouted from the other side of the room. "SUZY!" Suzy closed her eyes. "Oh, no." "I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!" Lisa started laughing. Suzy sighed. Then, despite herself, smiled. "Of course you do." --- ## Chapter 5 — The Last Word Saturday, November 2, 2077 — 2:48 AM The final hours of Friday's working night Suzy Q had made a mistake. Not a particularly serious mistake. Not the kind that endangered the club, compromised security, or required Lisa to remove somebody through the front door. But a mistake nevertheless. She had asked Mandi what her idea was. Mandi's expression suggested that she had just been handed the keys to Night City. "YOU WANT TO KNOW?" Suzy looked at her. "I asked." "YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO KNOW?" "You're making me reconsider." Dalia closed her eyes. Deja smiled. Mira and Della leaned forward. Vega abandoned a perfectly good argument with Nova. Even Anna looked up from her drink. Mandi spread her arms. "I PROPOSE..." A pause. Suzy waited. Lisa folded her arms. Panam, from the adjoining table, looked deeply suspicious. "...A PROFESSIONAL SILENCE COMPETITION!" Nobody spoke. Which, given the company, was remarkable. Then Della started laughing. Mira followed. Dalia removed her lollipop. "A what?" Mandi grinned. "Professional. Silence. Competition." Nova considered. "Those words are individually understandable." Vega nodded. "Together, less so." Deja tilted her head. "And who would be competing?" Mandi pointed at herself. "ME." Suzy stared. Then slowly set down her glass. "You're proposing a competition in which you don't speak?" "YES!" "For how long?" "THREE MINUTES!" Lisa made a small choking sound. Dalia looked at Deja. Deja looked back. Something passed between them. Something extremely dangerous. Panam noticed. "Oh, no." Mandi turned. "What?" "Those two are thinking." "THEY DO THAT." "Not usually with that expression." Deja smiled sweetly. "I think it's a wonderful proposal." Dalia nodded. "Absolutely." Mandi blinked. Then narrowed her eyes. "Why?" Deja's smile widened. "Because I'd very much like to see you try." ### 2:54 AM — The Price of Silence The elderly woman who had commissioned the earlier lollipop trial was still at the bar. She had been enjoying herself enormously. Her two companions looked tired. She did not. When she heard about the proposed performance, she immediately expressed interest. "Three minutes?" Mandi nodded. "YES." "Without saying a single word?" "CORRECT." "May people attempt to make you laugh?" Mandi considered. Then grinned. "OF COURSE." The woman looked toward Panam. "Is she available for a commissioned performance?" Panam sighed. "Apparently." Mandi looked offended. "OWNER!" Panam touched her shoulder. "Sweetheart, you proposed this." "YES." "Are you genuinely willing to do it?" Mandi straightened. "Absolutely." "Even if you lose?" Mandi considered. Then smiled. "I WON'T." Panam looked at the elderly woman. "A three-minute floor performance. No physical interference from the audience. No access to the club controls." Suzy nodded emphatically. "Especially the last part." The woman smiled. "Perfectly reasonable." Panam turned toward Mandi. "Your fee?" Mandi thought. Then announced: "TWELVE THOUSAND EDDIES." The woman smiled. "Agreed." The payment cleared. Panam confirmed the booking. Then looked at her pet. "Your choice to perform?" "Yes, Owner." "All right." She unclipped Mandi's leash. Click. Handed it to her. Then kissed her cheek. "Good luck, sweetheart." Mandi grinned. "DON'T NEED IT." Panam smiled. "Of course not." Deja was already approaching the elderly woman. "May I ask a procedural question?" The woman laughed. "Certainly." "Are written messages permitted?" Mandi froze. Dalia looked delighted. Suzy began laughing. The woman considered. "No. Communication of any kind would rather defeat the purpose." Deja nodded solemnly. "Excellent." Mandi looked at her. "YOU ABSOLUTE—" Dalia held up a finger. "Not started yet, darling." Mandi inhaled. Then smiled. "Right." Deja's expression remained perfectly innocent. And that worried Mandi considerably more than outright laughter would have. ### 3:02 AM — Three Minutes of Peace The DJ lowered the music over a small section of the floor. Not the entire club. Suzy had no intention of interrupting everybody else's evening because Mandi had decided to conduct an experiment in personal restraint. A loose circle formed. The elderly woman sat in the front. Her companions joined her. Mira and Della claimed a nearby table. Nova stood beside Vega. Anna watched from the bar. Panam sat with Sera and Nadia. Dalia and Deja remained together at the edge of the open space. Lisa volunteered to keep time. Suzy looked at the assembled company. Then at Mandi. "Ready?" Mandi nodded. Suzy smiled. "That's the last word you're allowed to say." Mandi opened her mouth. Stopped. Narrowed her eyes. Suzy grinned. "Wonderful. We're making progress already." Lisa activated the timer. 3:00 Mandi stood perfectly still. Hands at her sides. Chin raised. An expression of immaculate dignity on her face. 2:51 Vega stepped forward. Looked Mandi up and down. Then turned toward Nova. "Do you think she's malfunctioning?" Nova considered. "Possibly." "Can we reset her?" "Unclear." Mandi glared. 2:36 Della approached. Circled Mandi once. Then looked toward Mira. "Well, that's unfortunate." Mira raised an eyebrow. "What?" "All that personality, and somebody forgot to install the audio." Mandi's mouth twitched. 2:19 Anna studied her. Then addressed the audience. "I believe we've discovered an economically significant opportunity." Suzy looked interested. "Oh?" "Premium silence." Vega started laughing. Anna continued. "Available exclusively during Mandi's working hours." Dalia covered her mouth. 1:57 Mandi remained silent. Barely. Then Deja stepped forward. The room grew suspiciously attentive. She looked at Mandi. Very calmly. Very sweetly. And said: "I've been thinking." Mandi narrowed her eyes. Deja continued. "Perhaps we should arrange a permanent version of this service." Mandi's nostrils flared. "Not all the time, obviously." Deja paused. Then smiled. "Just during breakfast." Sera burst out laughing. Her hair sprang upward. Panam nearly lost her drink. 1:31 Mandi's entire face turned into an expression of profound outrage. But she remained silent. Dalia approached next. She looked at her girlfriend. Studied her carefully. Then sighed. "Darling." Mandi's eyes narrowed. "I owe you an apology." Mandi blinked. Dalia nodded. "I've spent far too much time complaining that you're noisy." Mandi's expression softened suspiciously. Dalia continued. "I never realized..." A pause. "...how much I would miss the sound of you telling me to fuck off." Mira collapsed against Della. The elderly woman began wheezing. Mandi clamped both hands over her mouth. 0:58 She was winning. Somehow. Suzy stared. "Jesus Christ." Lisa nodded. "Unexpected." Nova considered. "She's learning discipline." Vega shook her head. "No. She's storing pressure." 0:42 Deja approached again. Mandi stared at her with naked suspicion. Deja smiled. "Don't worry. I won't make another joke." Mandi relaxed. Slightly. Deja turned toward Dalia. "Would you hold my leash, please?" Dalia lifted the handle. "Of course." Deja looked back at Mandi. Then observed: "Some of us don't have to be loud to get attention." 0:28 Mandi went scarlet. Vega doubled over. 0:17 Mandi's shoulders shook. Her hands remained over her mouth. 0:09 Panam leaned forward. Smiled at her pet. And said quietly: "I'm proud of you, sweetheart." Mandi went very still. Her expression changed. Not because the words were funny. Because they mattered. She looked at Panam. And smiled. 0:03 0:02 0:01 Lisa raised one hand. "Time." Mandi drew a breath. Then shouted: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" The audience erupted. Mandi threw both arms into the air. "THREE MINUTES!" Suzy applauded. "Three minutes." "WITHOUT A WORD!" "Technically." "WITHOUT A FUCKING WORD!" Deja smiled. "An unprecedented achievement." Dalia caught Mandi around the waist. Mandi turned. "YOU!" Dalia laughed. "What?" "THAT APOLOGY!" "Sincere." "BULLSHIT!" "I did miss you." Mandi stared. Then burst out laughing. Dalia kissed her. Mandi answered warmly. When they separated, she pointed toward Deja. "AND YOU!" Deja tilted her head. "Yes?" "YOU'RE A MENACE!" Deja smiled. "I learned from an excellent professional." Mandi looked momentarily pleased. Then stopped. "WAIT." Deja laughed. Mandi stared. Then looked toward Dalia. "Is she ALWAYS like this?" Dalia smiled around her lollipop. "Only when she's happy." Mira leaned against Della. "Oh, God." Della wiped beneath one eye. "Best twelve thousand that woman ever spent." The elderly woman approached Mandi. She was still laughing. "My dear." Mandi turned. "YES?" "That was marvelous." Mandi grinned. "THANK YOU!" The woman caught her hand. "And may I tell you something?" "OF COURSE!" "I didn't actually think you'd manage it." Mandi gasped. "YOU DOUBTED ME?" "Terribly." Mandi stared. Then started laughing again. The woman smiled. "But I'm delighted to have been proved wrong." She glanced toward her companions. Then back at Mandi. "Thank you for a wonderful night." Mandi's expression softened. "You're welcome." For once, she didn't shout. ### 3:14 AM — A Small Victory Panam was waiting when Mandi returned. The detached leash rested over her pet's arm. Mandi offered it. Panam accepted. Click. Then drew her close. "Welcome back." Mandi grinned. "Owner." Panam kissed her. "You did beautifully." Mandi's smile softened. "Thank you." "How are you feeling?" "Wonderful." "Throat?" Mandi blinked. "My throat?" Panam raised an eyebrow. "You spent three minutes suppressing what usually comes out at full volume." Mandi laughed. "STILL WORKS!" "Apparently." Panam touched her cheek. "Water." Mandi took the offered glass. Drank. Then leaned against her. "Owner?" "Yes, sweetheart?" "Did you really mean it?" Panam looked puzzled. "Mean what?" "That you're proud of me." Panam's expression softened. "Oh, pet." She drew Mandi closer. "Of course I meant it." Mandi rested against her. For a moment, the comedy slipped away. Just long enough for something warmer to show through. Then Panam kissed her forehead. "Although I'm not suggesting we repeat the experiment every day." Mandi considered. Then grinned. "MONDAYS?" Panam closed her eyes. "Absolutely not." Dalia, arriving beside them, smiled. "Shame." Deja nodded. "Tragic." Mandi pointed at both of them. "I KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP!" Deja smiled sweetly. "Yes. You do." Dalia caught her hand. "And we appreciate that you're usually quieter there." Panam began laughing. Mandi stared. Then slowly smiled. "Oh, you two are FUCKED." Deja's eyebrows rose. "An interesting forecast." Panam put her face in her hands. "Jesus Christ." ### 3:27 AM — The Last Invitations The crowd had begun to thin. Not dramatically. Lizzie's still had plenty of customers. But the peculiar late-night shift was happening. The guests who'd come merely to investigate Wild Muses were leaving. The people who genuinely enjoyed the place were settling in. Some had booked appointments. Some had made friends. Some had discovered that three minutes of silence could be a remarkably expensive entertainment. Suzy considered the experiment a commercial success. Lisa considered it a security success. Neither wanted to repeat it immediately. --- Anna was finishing a conversation with a woman who had brought a small collection of antique mechanical components to the club. The woman had originally approached her earlier in the evening. Their first conversation had become a private appointment. Now they were simply sitting together at the bar, discussing the difference between restoration and reconstruction. The woman held up a tiny brass assembly. "Would you replace this?" Anna studied it. "Not if it still functions." "It's damaged." "Yes." "Doesn't that bother you?" Anna smiled. "Of course." "Then why leave it?" "Because damage and failure aren't the same thing." The woman considered. Then looked down at the part. "Interesting." Anna sipped her drink. "Sometimes preserving what happened is more important than making something appear untouched." The woman nodded slowly. Then smiled. "I've enjoyed talking to you." Anna returned the smile. "So have I." A pause. Then the woman asked: "Will you be here tomorrow?" Anna considered. "Possibly." "May I ask for another appointment?" "You may certainly ask." The woman laughed. "Fair answer." Anna smiled. "Professional habit." --- Near the private corridor, Bea was speaking with a guest who had approached her holding a crimson card. The woman had requested an appointment. Bea had listened. Asked a few questions. Then declined. Politely. Clearly. Without pretending she needed a better excuse. The guest accepted the answer with good grace. They chatted another minute before parting. Suzy noticed. And smiled. That, too, was how a good working night ought to function. Not every attractive opportunity became a booking. Not every compliment required reciprocation. A professional could decline and remain professional. A customer could be disappointed without becoming offensive. After Julian Voss, the distinction was particularly welcome. --- Bea returned to the bar. Lena looked up. "Everything all right?" "Perfectly." "Booking?" "Not tonight." Lena smiled. "Good." Bea caught her hand. "Besides, I appear to have found excellent company already." Marco raised his glass. "To excellent company." Lena touched hers to his. Bea joined them. They drank. And for a few minutes, the three simply enjoyed sitting together. ### 3:39 AM — The Return Invitation Mira was fastening her jacket when Mandi approached. She stopped. Looked at Mira. Then Della. Then sighed theatrically. "LEAVING?" Mira smiled. "Eventually." "TRAGIC." Della laughed. "We've been here for hours." "NOT ENOUGH." "For you, nothing ever is." Mandi considered. "Fair." Dalia and Deja joined them. Deja carried her folded leash; Dalia took it when she offered the handle. Mira smiled at the two women. "There you are." Dalia smiled. "Still alive?" "Mostly." Deja tilted her head. "That's encouraging." Della looked at her. Then laughed. "You're rather dangerous, aren't you?" Deja smiled sweetly. "Only conversationally." Dalia made a small noise. Mandi started laughing. Mira shook her head. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy knowing you." Deja's expression warmed. "Likewise." Mira glanced around the club. Then turned back toward the three women. "Actually, I have a question." Mandi leaned forward. "YES?" "Are you working tomorrow night?" Dalia considered. "Likely." Deja nodded. "I expect so." Mandi grinned. "OF COURSE." Mira smiled. "Good." Della looked toward Nova, who had noticed them gathering. Nova approached. "Going?" Della's smile softened. "Yes." "Pity." "Terrible." Nova stopped close to her. "Enjoyed yourself?" Della looked directly into those white-void eyes. Then smiled. "Very." "Good." Della reached for her hand. Squeezed it. "Tomorrow?" Nova considered. "If I'm available." "Then I'll ask." Nova smiled. "Do." Vega appeared beside them. "Another repeat customer?" Nova raised an eyebrow. "Possibly." Vega grinned. "Excellent." Della laughed. Then looked around the group. "Well. That settles it." Mira turned. "What?" "We're coming back." Mandi threw both hands up. "FUCKING YES!" Dalia laughed. Deja smiled. Nova looked entirely too pleased with herself. Vega shook her head. "Christ. Saturday's going to be interesting." Mira laughed. "You have no idea." For a moment, Nova felt an almost unreasonable urge to agree. She suppressed it. There were things Della didn't know. Things she had no intention of disclosing beneath Lizzie's lights. The affection between them was real enough without turning a lovely encounter into a cover-security problem. Della leaned closer. Kissed Nova. Then smiled. "See you." Nova smiled back. "See you." Mira kissed Mandi. Then Dalia. Then Deja, who answered warmly. Della waved to Suzy. And the two women headed toward the exit together. Mandi watched them go. Then sighed. "TRAGIC." Dalia raised an eyebrow. "What?" "THEY LEFT." Deja smiled. "They're returning tomorrow." Mandi considered. Then brightened. "OH." Dalia laughed. "Yes, darling. Time still works in that direction." Mandi grinned. "EXCELLENT." ### 3:52 AM — Three Very Different Women Panam had claimed a quieter table for herself, Sera, and Nadia. It wasn't particularly secluded. It didn't need to be. The surrounding noise had softened, and the three women were content simply to remain close. Nadia had acquired a bowl of something hot. Sera was finishing a glass of water. Panam was watching them with an expression that suggested considerable satisfaction. Nadia noticed. "What?" Panam smiled. "Nothing." Nadia narrowed her eyes. "That's suspicious." Sera laughed. "Very." Panam shook her head. "I'm just enjoying looking at you." Nadia's expression softened. "Oh." Sera smiled. "Both of us?" Panam leaned closer. "Obviously." She kissed Sera. Then Nadia. Nadia caught her hand. "Good answer, Owner." Panam laughed. "Thank you." For a while they remained that way. Close enough that an observer could have mistaken them for three women exchanging the familiar comfort of longtime friends. Which they were. But it was more than that. Much more. Sera loved Panam. Nadia loved Panam. And Sera and Nadia loved one another. There was no absent third point waiting outside the relationship to make it complete. They were already together. The fact that Sera also belonged, deeply and permanently, with Ace and Mai did not diminish what she had here. Love, Shammy had discovered, did not become less real because it had more than one home. Nadia leaned against her. "What are you thinking?" Sera smiled. "That I liked tonight." Nadia considered. "Even the idiot?" Sera laughed. "Not that part." "The expensive idiot." "The very expensive idiot." Panam sighed. "I'd nearly forgotten him." Nadia grinned. "Then we should definitely stop talking about him." "Excellent idea." Sera looked toward Nadia. "What about your sculptor?" Nadia's face brightened. "Oh, she was wonderful." "Did you ask about the unfinished surface?" "Of course." "And?" "She left it because removing the flaw would have made the piece less interesting." Sera smiled. "I like her already." "So do I." Panam raised an eyebrow. "Apparently." Nadia laughed. "Owner." "What?" "Don't look so smug." Panam kissed her. "I have two very good reasons." Sera laughed. Nadia smiled against Panam's cheek. Then, after a moment, leaned across and kissed Sera too. Neither kiss was theatrical. Neither needed to be. The affection was as natural as sharing the table. Panam watched them. Then reached for both their hands. "Ready to finish for tonight?" Sera considered. "Yes." Nadia nodded. "Me too." Panam smiled. "Good." Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Was that an order?" "No." "Shame." Sera began laughing. Panam shook her head. "You're incorrigible." Nadia smiled sweetly. "And yet." Panam kissed her again. "And yet." ### 4:06 AM — Suzy's Numbers Suzy wasn't particularly interested in sentimental assessments of business performance. She liked numbers. Occupancy. Revenue. Customer satisfaction. Security incidents. Staff welfare. Return interest. And, most importantly, whether the entire operation could be repeated tomorrow without somebody needing emergency medical attention. She studied the summary display. The Wild Muses cards had worked. Not because every suggestion became a booking. They hadn't. Not because the artists accepted everything. They certainly hadn't. But the cards gave guests a way to approach the women with imagination instead of entitlement. A violet Conversation card could begin something worth remembering. A blue Performance card could produce three minutes of magnificently expensive silence. And a crimson Private Invitation could become a genuine professional appointment when everybody involved wanted it. Suzy smiled. Not bad. Lisa approached. "How's it looking?" "Good." "How good?" "Very." Lisa leaned closer. Then whistled softly. "Jesus." Suzy nodded. "Exactly." Lisa considered. "Any changes for tomorrow?" "Some." "Such as?" Suzy looked toward the cards. "We need more blues." Lisa laughed. "Naturally." "And better crowd separation around the spontaneous performances." "Agreed." "And I want a reminder on the display that red cards aren't booking confirmations." Lisa nodded. "Good." Suzy considered. Then added: "And Mandi is not allowed to propose any event involving the club's lighting system." Lisa smiled. "I can put that in writing." "Please." A pause. "Large letters." Lisa laughed. "Understood." Suzy looked toward the main floor. Then smiled. "Overall, though?" Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" "Pretty damn good Friday." Lisa nodded. "Pretty damn good Friday." ### 4:19 AM — Last Round for the Muses The club wasn't closing. Lizzie's rarely did anything as tidy as completely surrendering the night. But the Wild Muses working programme was drawing to its agreed end. Suzy started marking the final appointments complete. A few guests remained at the bar. The dance floor continued. The music softened into something slower. Staff changed stations. Security checked the private corridor. And the six featured Muses began returning to their own tables. Anna was first. She looked satisfied. Then Deja and Dalia arrived together. Deja's venom-green ChromeLock hair had retained its immaculate shape despite the hours. Dalia's neon-pink dreadlocks needed no attention at all. Mandi followed. Naturally. Nova and Vega joined them after one last conversation with Suzy. Sera and Nadia arrived with Panam. Bea came from the bar, where she'd been saying good night to Lena and Marco. For a moment, everyone seemed to be talking at once. Which was impressive, considering that Anna hadn't yet said anything. Mandi looked around. Then grinned. "FUCKING GOOD NIGHT!" Vega raised an eyebrow. "It's morning." "PEDANTRY." Nova smiled. "Technically correct pedantry." Mandi pointed at her. "TRAITOR." Deja considered. "Perhaps we should hold another trial." Dalia began laughing. Mandi stared. "NO." Deja smiled. "Oh?" "ABSOLUTELY NOT." Anna finally spoke. "That sounds like a plea bargain." Vega nearly spat out her drink. Nova covered her mouth. Sera's hair lifted. Panam looked toward the ceiling. "Oh, God." Mandi stared at Anna. Then began laughing. "YOU TOO?" Anna smiled serenely. "I merely observe." Deja nodded. "A respected judicial principle." Dalia shook her head. "This is never going to end." "Of course not," Bea said. They all turned toward her. Bea smiled. "It's Night City." A pause. Then: "Nobody here knows when to stop." Mandi threw both arms up. "FINALLY, SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS!" Suzy approached. Holding her agent. And looking suspiciously pleased. "All right, ladies." The group quieted. Mostly. "The Friday programme is officially complete." Mandi sighed. "TRAGIC." Suzy ignored her. "All bookings reconciled. All rooms checked. No outstanding complaints." Lisa, standing just behind her, smiled. "One escorted departure." Suzy nodded. "Yes." Panam sighed. "Let's not celebrate that." Nadia looked thoughtful. "I rather enjoyed the departure." Sera laughed. Panam turned. "Sweetheart." "What?" "Don't." Nadia smiled. "Fine." Suzy continued. "More importantly, a considerable number of guests asked about tomorrow." Nova raised an eyebrow. "How many?" "Enough." Vega grinned. "That's encouraging." "It is." Suzy looked around the group. "Excellent work, all of you." That quieted them properly. Even Mandi. Suzy smiled. "The club's better for having you here." Panam's expression softened. Sera smiled. Nadia caught her hand. Anna nodded. Dalia looked genuinely pleased. Deja smiled. Nova and Vega exchanged a quick, professionally affectionate glance. Mandi looked around. Then raised her hand. Suzy sighed. "Yes?" "CAN WE DO IT AGAIN TOMORROW?" Suzy stared. Then started laughing. "Yes, Mandi." Mandi grinned. "FUCKING EXCELLENT!" ### 4:37 AM — Before the City Wakes The final departures happened gradually. Lena and Marco left first. They were heading home to Pacifica. Marco embraced Shammy warmly. Lena kissed her cheek. Then both said good night to Panam and Nadia. There was no awkwardness. No hurried explanation. Only the comfortable affection of people who knew exactly where they stood with one another. Bea watched them leave with a smile. Then turned back toward the others. "Well." Mandi raised an eyebrow. "Well?" "That was a wonderful evening." Dalia smiled. "For everyone, apparently." Bea laughed. "Especially for everyone." Nova looked toward the door. "Mira and Della are really coming back." Vega grinned. "Yes." Nova smiled. "Good." Mandi pointed at her. "YOU'RE SMILING." Nova raised an eyebrow. "I often smile." "NOT LIKE THAT." Vega started laughing. Nova closed her eyes. "Oh, fuck off." Deja smiled. "A convincing defense." Dalia sighed. "Your Honor." Mandi spun toward her. "NO MORE TRIALS!" Deja's smile widened. "Of course." A pause. "Until tomorrow." Mandi stared. Then grabbed Dalia's hand. "WE'RE LEAVING." Dalia laughed. "All right, darling." Deja offered her leash handle. Dalia took it. Then looked at Mandi. "Come along." Mandi grinned. "YES, MA'AM." And the three women headed toward their waiting transport, still laughing. Panam stood with Sera and Nadia beside her. The nightclub lights painted silver-white reflections across Sera's hair. Nadia looked tired now. Not badly. Just pleasantly, honestly tired. The kind of exhaustion that came after a long night filled with interesting people, good conversations, affectionate company, and considerably more laughter than anybody had expected. Panam noticed her rubbing one eye. "All right, beautiful?" Nadia smiled. "Yes, Owner." "Ready for bed?" "Very." Sera nodded. "So am I." Panam looked at them both. Then smiled. "Good." Nadia caught her hand. Sera took the other. For a moment, the three simply stood together. Then Nadia leaned closer. "Owner?" "Yes?" "Tomorrow." Panam raised an eyebrow. "What about tomorrow?" Nadia smiled. "I have a feeling people are going to come with some very strange ideas." Panam considered. Then looked back toward Lizzie's. At the advertisements. The card display. The private corridors. The unmistakable signs that the Wild Muses programme had already acquired a life of its own. She sighed. "You're probably right." Sera laughed. "And you're going to enjoy it." Panam looked toward her. Then Nadia. Then smiled. "Probably." Nadia kissed her. Sera followed. And the three women headed out together. Behind the bar, Suzy switched the Wild Muses display to its overnight message. LIZZIE'S — WILD MUSES ## FRIDAY PROGRAMME COMPLETE Saturday's programme begins tomorrow evening. Private appointments remain subject to individual acceptance and availability. Lisa looked at it. Then at Suzy. "Think tomorrow will be quieter?" Suzy stared at her. For several seconds. Then began laughing. Lisa grinned. "Yeah." Suzy shook her head. "No." "Thought not." They looked toward the entrance. Another group of guests had just arrived for the club's regular late-night service. Somewhere in the building, somebody was laughing. Somebody else was ordering breakfast. And somebody was undoubtedly already planning a terrible decision. Suzy sighed. "Jesus Christ." Lisa smiled. "Night City." Suzy lifted her glass. "Night City." They drank. And the first Wild Muses working night was over. --- ### Coda: No Further Instructions Saturday, November 2, 2077 — 5:16 AM Watson Safehouse The safehouse had finally begun to settle. Shoes had been abandoned near the entrance. Jackets occupied furniture that hadn't volunteered for the job. Somebody had left three glasses on the dining table, and somebody else had already threatened to start collecting fines. The usual signs of a successful night. Dalia stood at the kitchen counter, making coffee. Deja sat beside her, still wearing her ivory collar, the leash coiled neatly on the counter between them. Vega had claimed one end of the sofa. Nova sat beside her. Mandi was telling a story. Naturally. "—AND THEN SHE LOOKS ME RIGHT IN THE EYES AND SAYS SHE DIDN'T THINK I'D MAKE IT!" Deja smiled into her water. "She was hardly alone." "THREE MINUTES!" "We remember," Dalia said. "WITHOUT TALKING!" "A historic achievement." Mandi pointed at her. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE!" Dalia turned. Looked at her wife. Smiled. "Darling, I am always on your side." Mandi softened immediately. "Good." "Even when you're being an idiot." "HEY!" Deja laughed. Vega smiled. Nova said nothing. That was the first sign. Not because Nova was incapable of quiet. She was perfectly capable of it. But this was an entirely different kind of silence. She had been watching Mandi for nearly ten minutes. Not casually. Not with the amused affection that usually accompanied one of Mandi's spectacular retellings. She was watching the way Mandi laughed. The way her neon-orange hair shifted when she turned her head. The way she gestured with both hands when one would have been sufficient. The way she leaned against the counter beside Dalia without even thinking about it. And especially the way she smiled when she caught someone looking. Mandi noticed eventually. Of course she did. She stopped in the middle of a sentence. "Nova?" Nova blinked. "Mm?" "You okay?" "Yes." Mandi studied her. "YOU'RE QUIET." "Observant." "FUCKING RIGHT I AM." Vega looked at her wife. Then at Mandi. Then back at Nova. And understood. Completely. A slow smile appeared. She touched Nova's knee. Nova turned toward her. Vega's expression held no uncertainty. No jealousy. Only affection, amusement, and the absolute confidence of a woman who knew her wife exceptionally well. "Go." One word. Quiet. Matter-of-fact. Nova stared at her. Vega raised an eyebrow. "Go." Nova's mouth curved into a small, almost helpless smile. She leaned in and kissed Vega. Not hurriedly. Not as a request for permission. As thanks for being understood without needing to explain a damn thing. Vega kissed her back. Then gave her a gentle nudge. "Before you stare a hole through her." Nova laughed under her breath. Stood. And looked toward the kitchen. Dalia had stopped stirring her coffee. She met Nova's eyes. For a long moment, neither spoke. There was a question in Nova's expression. Dalia read it easily. Then glanced toward Mandi. Her wife was still standing beside the counter, looking between them with increasing curiosity. Dalia smiled. A warm, knowing smile. Then gave the smallest nod. Nova's shoulders eased. She crossed the room. Mandi watched her approach. "WHAT?" Nova stopped directly in front of her. Looked into her eyes. And held out her hand. Mandi looked down at it. Then back up. "Oh." A beat. "Ohhh." Nova's smile widened. "Come with me." Mandi blinked. Then grinned. "FUCK YES." Nova caught her hand. And practically dragged her toward the guest-room corridor. "HEY!" Mandi laughed. "I HAVE SHORTER LEGS!" "Walk faster." "YOU COULD ASK NICELY!" "I could." Deja nearly choked on her water. Dalia covered her mouth. Vega leaned back against the sofa, looking utterly delighted. Mandi glanced over her shoulder. "DALIA!" Her wife raised her coffee. "Have fun, darling." "VEGA!" Vega waved. "You're welcome." "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT—" The guest-room door closed. Silence. Then Deja turned toward Dalia. "Well." Dalia took a sip of coffee. "Yes." Vega stretched her legs. "About damn time." Deja considered that. Then smiled. "Was she really that obvious?" Vega laughed. "To me? Painfully." Dalia glanced toward the corridor. Her expression softened. "She doesn't often let herself ask so directly." Vega nodded. "No." A small silence followed. Then Deja looked between them. "So. Should we expect Mandi to be quiet for another three minutes?" Vega burst out laughing. Dalia set down her cup before she spilled it. "Deja!" "What?" "Behave." Deja smiled sweetly. "I am." ### 5:24 AM — Guest Room Three Mandi barely had time to turn before Nova kissed her. Not a cautious kiss. Not one offered merely to test the waters. A kiss that had apparently been waiting all evening to happen. Mandi answered immediately. Her arms found Nova's waist. Nova held her close. For several seconds, neither spoke. Then Mandi drew back just enough to look at her. "Well, FUCK." Nova laughed softly. "Hello." "Hello yourself." Another kiss. Slower this time. Mandi felt Nova relax against her, some tension she'd been carrying all night finally beginning to leave her shoulders. Mandi brushed a strand of chrome-and-gold hair away from her face. "Hey." Nova looked at her. "Hey." "You could've said something earlier." "I know." "Like, literally anything." "I know." Mandi smiled. "Even something fucking stupid. I'm good with stupid." That earned a laugh. Nova touched her cheek. "I wanted you." The words were simple. No joke attached. No attempt to soften them. Mandi's expression changed. She was still smiling, but now there was tenderness behind it. "Oh, sweetheart." Nova swallowed. "I've wanted you all evening." Mandi kissed her forehead. "Then I'm very glad you came and got me." Nova rested against her. For a moment, they simply held each other. Then Mandi drew back. "Can I ask you something?" Nova nodded. "Anything." "Do you want me here?" Nova stared. Then laughed. "God, yes." "Good." Mandi kissed her again. "Because I really fucking want to be here." Nova smiled against her mouth. "Good." They moved toward the bed together, still exchanging kisses, pausing whenever one caught the other's eye. The night's loudness fell away. The masks did not have to come off for the women beneath them to recognize each other. Nova knew exactly who she was holding. And Mandi knew how much it meant that Nova had finally reached for what she wanted. There was no audience now. No client. No performance. Only two women who loved their respective wives, cared deeply for one another, and had been given the space to enjoy that closeness without apology. Nova drew Mandi down beside her. Mandi slipped an arm around her. Their kisses became unhurried, their touches affectionate and increasingly intimate. Nova laughed once when Mandi murmured something outrageous into her ear. “You're impossible.” “You knew that.” “I did.” “And yet.” Nova kissed her. “And yet.” They stayed close after the kiss, neither rushing the next decision. Nova’s hand rested against the side of Mandi’s neck, thumb moving once over the edge of the graphite collar. Mandi answered by drawing her down onto the bed in Guest Room Three, the familiar safehouse quiet around them. “You still want this?” Nova asked. “Obviously.” They undressed each other without performance. Mandi’s outfit came off in stages; Nova’s followed. Both collars stayed. Nova settled between Mandi’s thighs and used her mouth with the same focused attention she brought to everything else, one hand braced at Mandi’s hip. Mandi was loud at first, then quieter, then not loud at all for a stretch that made Nova lift her head and smile against the inside of her thigh. “That’s new,” Nova murmured. Mandi pointed at her without opening her eyes. “Don’t.” She came with a sharp breath and a hand in Nova’s hair, the sound smaller than usual. Nova kissed her way back up. Mandi drew her close so they lay facing each other, one thigh between Nova’s, and returned the attention with her hand. She set a deliberate pace, watching Nova’s face. Nova’s hands stayed at her waist. Mandi came a second time with her forehead against Nova’s; Nova followed soon after, arms tightening, a low sound against Mandi’s shoulder. They stayed pressed together while the intensity eased, then Mandi settled fully beside her. The room remained quiet except for their breathing. ### 6:11 AM — The Quiet Afterwards The guest room was dim. The city beyond the windows was beginning to change color. Nova lay with her head against Mandi's shoulder. Mandi was running her fingers gently through Nova's hair. Neither felt much need to speak. Which, in Mandi's case, probably qualified as a second historic achievement. Eventually Nova sighed. Mandi looked down. "Good sigh?" Nova smiled. "Very." "Excellent." A pause. Then Nova lifted her head. "Mandi?" "Mm?" "Thank you." Mandi frowned. "For what?" Nova considered. Then shook her head. "For being you." Mandi stared at her. A rare moment of genuine speechlessness. Then she pulled Nova close and kissed her. "Any fucking time, sweetheart." Nova laughed softly. "I believe you." "Good." They settled again. After a while, Mandi glanced toward the door. "You know they're going to be absolute bastards about this." Nova smiled. "Oh, yes." "Especially Deja." "Especially Deja." "And your wife." Nova laughed. "Vega encouraged me." "I noticed." Nova raised her head. "You noticed?" "Sweetheart, I might've been born yesterday, but not fucking this morning." Nova started laughing. Mandi grinned. Then kissed her again. "Come on." "Where?" "Back to the others." Nova considered. "Do we have to?" Mandi smiled. "No." Nova wrapped an arm around her. "Good." And they stayed a little longer. ### 6:28 AM — Kitchen Vega was making fresh coffee. Dalia sat at the table with Deja, whose head rested comfortably against her shoulder. The guest-room door opened. Nova emerged first. Mandi followed, holding her hand. Neither looked particularly inclined to conceal anything. Vega glanced up. Looked at her wife. Smiled. "Morning." Nova crossed the kitchen. Bent down. And kissed her. Vega caught her face gently. "Better?" Nova smiled. "Much." "Good." Dalia looked toward Mandi. Her wife's expression was brighter than the approaching sunrise. Mandi came straight to her. Dalia opened her arms. Mandi stepped into them. They kissed. Warmly. Unselfconsciously. Then Dalia rested her forehead against Mandi's. "All right, darling?" Mandi smiled. "Very." Dalia kissed her once more. "I'm glad." Deja watched them. Then turned toward Nova. Her soft face wore an expression of absolute innocence. "Good morning." Nova narrowed her eyes. "Don't." Deja blinked. "Don't what?" "Whatever you're about to say." Deja considered. Then smiled. "I was merely wondering whether we should update Mandi's silence record." Mandi stared. Vega collapsed against the counter laughing. Dalia closed her eyes. Nova put her face in her hands. And Deja took a perfectly innocent sip of coffee. "After all," she continued, "three minutes seems rather modest now." Mandi pointed at her. "YOU—" Dalia caught her wrist. "Darling." "BUT—" Vega was laughing too hard to stand straight. Nova shook her head. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Deja smiled. Soft look. Sharp mouth. Some things, apparently, were never going to change. And nobody in that kitchen wanted them to. --- ## Chapter 6 — The Iris Face *Saturday, November 2, 2077 — 1:38 PM* *Watson Safehouse* The first indication that somebody was awake came from the kitchen. The second was the smell of coffee. The third was a voice announcing, with considerable indignation, that somebody had put the wrong kind of bread in the toaster. "IT DOESN'T FIT!" Panam looked up from the vegetables she was cutting. "Sweetheart." "IT'S TOO BIG!" "Turn it sideways." Shammy considered the bread. Then the toaster. Then the bread again. "Oh." Nadia, sitting at the dining table, slowly lowered her coffee. Panam smiled. "See?" Shammy turned the slice sideways. It fitted perfectly. She stared at it. Then looked toward Nadia. "Not. One. Word." Nadia's expression remained solemn. "Of course not." A pause. "You're an internationally recognized artist." Shammy narrowed her eyes. "Yes." "Capable of making extraordinary things out of light, sound, and metal." "Yes." "Defeated by rectangular bread." Panam burst out laughing. Shammy's silver-white hair sprang upward. "YOU!" Nadia grinned. "Love you too." Shammy abandoned the toaster, crossed the kitchen, and kissed her. Nadia caught her around the waist. When Shammy drew back, she looked down at her with exaggerated suspicion. "Still mocking me?" "Always." "Good." She kissed her again. Panam shook her head affectionately. "Can I have my kitchen assistants back?" Shammy turned. "YES, OWNER!" Nadia rose from her chair. "Coming, Owner." Panam smiled. "Thank you, loves." There were worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon. Especially after the extraordinary night they'd just survived. *** ### 1:46 PM — Three Women and a Kitchen The plan had been simple. Sleep. Wake. Collect something edible. Go to the safehouse. Shammy had altered the plan somewhere between the second and third steps. She wanted to make breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever the appropriate name was for a meal eaten by people who had gone to bed after sunrise and regarded two in the afternoon as a perfectly reasonable time to begin existing again. Panam had suggested *brunch*. Shammy had objected. "BRUNCH IS TOO SMALL A WORD." Nadia had proposed *breaklunch*. Panam had rejected it on principle. They were still debating the matter when they arrived at the safehouse. Now the kitchen counter was covered with ingredients. Eggs. Bread. Fruit. Cheese. Fresh vegetables. Three kinds of sausage. A frankly unreasonable quantity of potatoes. And enough coffee to resurrect half of Watson. Nadia surveyed the arrangement. "How many people are we feeding?" Shammy counted on her fingers. "Ace. Mai. Iris. Brenda. Kiro. Elisa. Us." "Nine." "YES." Nadia looked at the potatoes. "Are three of them secretly horses?" Shammy considered. "MANDI EATS LIKE ONE." Panam laughed. "She also burns through food like a furnace." "EXACTLY." Nadia smiled. "Fine. Nine people. One of them a furnace." "THANK YOU." Panam turned back toward the stove. She had been listening to the other two banter for nearly twenty minutes. She could have listened for another twenty. After the previous night, their easy happiness was rather wonderful. Shammy had been affectionate all morning. Nadia had awakened with her head against Panam's shoulder and immediately complained that the bed was too comfortable to leave. Panam had kissed them both, fetched coffee, and allowed the complaint to continue until Shammy announced she wanted to see her family. There had been no need to choose between the people she loved. No complicated accounting. No sense that affection given in one place was being stolen from another. Shammy had kissed Panam and Nadia before going to collect her things. Then she'd promptly invited them both along. Elisa had stayed at the safehouse after Friday's shift. She was still asleep when they arrived, and Shammy had every intention of letting the smell of coffee do the waking for her. Imani, meanwhile, was spending the afternoon at Nadia's studio with the others. Shammy hadn't tried to divert her from those plans just to increase the audience for breakfast. So here the three of them were. In the Watson safehouse. Making an absurd quantity of food. Panam looked across the kitchen. Shammy was rearranging the fruit into something that resembled a smiling face. Nadia was cutting bread. Both looked up at the same time. "What?" Nadia asked. Panam smiled. "Nothing." Shammy narrowed her eyes. "SUSPICIOUS." "Very," Nadia agreed. Panam crossed to them. Kissed Shammy. Kissed Nadia. Then rested her forehead briefly against Nadia's. "I'm happy." Nadia's expression softened. "So am I, Owner." Shammy wrapped her arms around them both. "ME THREE!" Panam laughed. "Come on. Before the potatoes burn." *** ### 2:03 PM — First Signs of Life Kiro was the first to appear. Deja's face mesh was off, revealing Kiro's familiar features, but the dark venom-green ChromeLock v2 hair was still firmly in place. Almost black in the kitchen's shadows, it showed its unmistakable green wherever sunlight caught it. Sleep had done nothing lasting to the locked style. The ivory collar and leash had been put away for the afternoon. The expression Kiro wore, however, suggested that Deja's notoriously sharp tongue hadn't gone anywhere. Shammy turned. "KIRO!" Kiro blinked at the volume. "Good afternoon." Nadia smiled. "Technically." Panam offered her coffee. Kiro accepted it with gratitude. Then looked at the mountain of potatoes. "Are we expecting reinforcements?" Nadia pointed at her. "Thank you." Shammy sighed. "NOT YOU TOO." Kiro studied the food. Then the toaster. Then the slice of bread still lying beside it. She tilted her head. "Interesting." Shammy narrowed her eyes. "What?" "Nothing." "KIRO." Kiro took a sip of coffee. "Just wondering whether you've mastered basic geometry yet." Nadia made a strangled sound. Panam turned toward the stove to conceal her laughter. Shammy stared at Kiro. "YOU'VE BEEN TALKING TO NADIA." Kiro smiled. "No." A pause. "Some conclusions are independently reproducible." Shammy threw her hands in the air. "FUCKING EVERYBODY!" Kiro laughed. And settled at the table. A few minutes later, Mai appeared. Sleepy. Barefoot. Wearing one of Ace's shirts, with the hot-pink ChromeLock dreadlocks of Dalia still framing her face. She had changed clothes and left the working-night accessories behind, but the hair wasn't going anywhere without the proper releaser and a wash. She stopped at the kitchen entrance. Looked at the three women cooking. Then at Kiro. Then at the coffee. "Please tell me that's real." Panam smiled. "Fresh." Mai closed her eyes. "I love you." Nadia raised an eyebrow. "All three of us?" Mai opened one eye. "Whichever one hands me a cup first." Panam handed her coffee. Mai took it. "I love you most." Shammy gasped. "BETRAYAL!" Mai walked straight into her arms. Shammy hugged her. Hard. Then kissed her. Mai returned the kiss with a sleepy smile. "Good afternoon, sweetheart." "GOOD AFTERNOON!" "Indoor voice." "Sorry." A pause. "GOOD AFTERNOON!" Mai laughed against her shoulder. Nadia shook her head. "She has one setting." Panam considered. "Two." Shammy looked interested. "WHAT'S THE OTHER ONE?" "Sleeping." Kiro nearly spilled her coffee. *** ### 2:14 PM — Brenda Has Questions Brenda entered carrying her agent. Vega's face mesh was gone, but her split chrome-and-brass ChromeLock hair remained gloriously conspicuous above Brenda's familiar, irritated expression. The color hadn't faded overnight; the style looked as though it had been prepared minutes ago. She was frowning at something on the display. "Who the fuck approved this component layout?" Mai looked up. "Good afternoon to you too." Brenda didn't glance away from the screen. "Good afternoon. Some idiot has designed a circuit board that can only be assembled by a double-jointed octopus." Kiro leaned forward. "Let me see." Brenda handed it over. Kiro studied the schematic. Then winced. "That's unfortunate." "Right?" "You can route around it." "Yes, if you enjoy wasting half a day fixing someone else's stupidity." Kiro shrugged. "It's an option." Brenda sighed. Then noticed the kitchen. Stopped. Looked around. "Oh." Shammy beamed. "BREAKFAST!" Brenda checked the time. "It's two fourteen." "BREAKFAST!" "Of course." Nadia smiled. "We've given up arguing." "Wise." Brenda approached the stove. Kissed Panam's cheek. Then Nadia's. Then Shammy's. Shammy caught her around the shoulders. "BRENDA!" "Yes, darling?" "WE MADE FOOD!" "I noticed." "LOTS!" "I noticed that too." Brenda studied the counter. Then grinned. "Christ. Did you rob a supermarket?" "NO!" "Two supermarkets?" Shammy considered. Then laughed. Brenda took the coffee Mai offered her. Their fingers brushed. Brenda smiled. "Thank you, beautiful." Mai raised an eyebrow. "Flattery before coffee? You're losing your touch." "Sweetheart, I'm merely appreciating the view." "You're appreciating my shirt." "That too." Mai looked down. Then smiled. "Technically, it's Ace's." Brenda considered. "Well, your taste in women has always been questionable." Mai turned very slowly. Kiro lowered her cup. Nadia looked interested. Shammy grinned. Panam sighed. "Oh, here we go." Mai smiled sweetly. "Darling, you married Iris." Brenda nodded. "Yes." "Voluntarily." "Yes." "Then I don't believe either of us is qualified to criticize the other's judgment." Brenda stared. Then burst out laughing. "Fuck you." Mai raised her coffee. "Get in line." Nadia covered her mouth. Kiro smiled. Panam shook her head. "You're both impossible." Brenda lifted her cup toward Mai. "And yet she loves us." Mai touched her cup to Brenda's. "Poor woman." They drank. *** ### 2:18 PM — The Last Sleeper Elisa emerged from the guest-room corridor wearing comfortable clothes and an expression of sleepy suspicion. "Either somebody is cooking breakfast," she announced, "or there's been a very expensive incident involving a potato warehouse." Her ice-blue ChromeLock v2 hair was still unmistakably Bea's color, though the face mesh was gone. Sleep had not released the color or erased Lena's styling. Shammy lit up. "ELISA!" "That's me." Elisa blinked at the volume. "Wonderful. My ears are awake now too." She hugged Shammy, kissed her cheek, and accepted a coffee from Kiro. "How long have you been here?" Elisa asked Nadia. "Long enough to discover Shammy and the toaster have unresolved philosophical differences." "IT WAS THE BREAD!" Shammy protested. Elisa looked at the perfectly ordinary toaster. "Naturally. Bread is notoriously uncooperative." Panam started laughing. Brenda lifted her coffee. "Welcome to the madhouse." "I've been sleeping in it," Elisa replied. "The madhouse has excellent guest beds." Mai crossed the kitchen to hug her properly. "Glad you stayed." "So am I. Though I could've done without the structural engineering experiment in the kitchen." "We have nine mouths to feed," Nadia explained. Elisa surveyed the food. "Shammy, sweetheart, are you planning to feed the building as well?" "ONLY IF IT GETS HUNGRY!" Elisa laughed, and the kitchen grew louder by one voice. *** ### 2:22 PM — The First Face Ace appeared in the doorway. Barefoot. Wearing loose trousers and a shirt that had plainly been retrieved without much consideration. Above it all, Mandi's screaming neon-orange ChromeLock hair remained spectacularly intact. A night in bed hadn't turned it back into Ace's natural color or undone the styling; that would take Lena's releaser and a proper wash. Without her working clothes and performance manner, though, the woman standing there was unmistakably Ace. She stopped when she saw the kitchen. Then smiled. A slow, soft, gloriously contented smile. "Morning." Shammy turned. And froze. For one full second, she said nothing. Then her silver-white hair lifted. Not dramatically. Not yet. Just enough. Ace noticed. "What?" Shammy stared. Ace glanced at Mai. Then Brenda. Then back at Shammy. "What?" Shammy's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "Ohhhhh." Ace narrowed her eyes. "Shammy." Shammy took one step closer. Then another. Her smile grew. "Oh, ACE." "What?" "You have the face." Ace blinked. "What face?" Shammy clasped both hands together. "The face!" Ace looked at Mai. Mai took a very deliberate sip of coffee. No help there. Ace looked at Panam. Panam raised both hands. "Don't involve me." Nadia glanced between them, intrigued. Kiro leaned back in her chair. Elisa stopped midway through arranging clean cups. She watched Ace's expression, then Shammy's widening smile, and wisely decided not to intervene. Brenda's expression began to change. Shammy approached Ace. Looked down into her face. Then smiled so broadly that her hair rose another few centimeters. "YOU HAVE THE IRIS FACE!" The kitchen went silent. Ace closed her eyes. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Brenda slowly lowered her cup. Then looked toward Mai. Mai met her eyes. Something passed between them. Brenda's mouth twitched. "Oh." Mai smiled. "Oh, indeed." Ace opened her eyes. "Don't." Brenda straightened. "Don't what?" "Whatever you're thinking." Brenda looked offended. "Ace, I haven't said anything." "That's what worries me." Shammy caught Ace's hand. "YOU SAW IRIS." Ace sighed. "I see Iris all the time." Shammy shook her head with the solemnity of a medical specialist delivering a diagnosis. "Not like *that*, you don't." Nadia made a small noise. Panam put down her knife. Kiro covered her mouth. Mai simply smiled. And Brenda began to laugh. Not loudly at first. Just a small, delighted sound. Then more. "Oh, sweetheart." Ace looked at her. "What?" Brenda shook her head. "Nothing." "Brenda." "Absolutely nothing." A pause. "Except that my wife is apparently responsible for that ridiculous expression." Ace stared. Then laughed despite herself. "Fuck you." Brenda raised an eyebrow. "Not on today's schedule, darling." Mai choked on her coffee. Shammy howled. Panam closed her eyes. Nadia turned away, shoulders shaking. Kiro looked deeply satisfied. Elisa leaned toward Kiro. "What did I miss?" she whispered. Kiro regarded Ace over her coffee. "Apparently, one very successful guest-room visit." Elisa pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Ace pointed at Brenda. "You're an asshole." Brenda grinned. "Yes. But I'm an observant asshole." *** ### 2:26 PM — The Second Face Iris arrived four minutes later. Which was extraordinarily unfortunate timing. For Iris. She entered quietly. Barefoot. Wearing one of Brenda's loose shirts. Nova's face mesh had come off at home, leaving Iris's own familiar features beneath the mirrored chrome-and-gold ChromeLock hair. Its split colors remained bright and unmistakable, the locked style having recovered from sleep as neatly as Brenda's. She took two steps into the kitchen. Stopped. Saw the entire gathering. And smiled. Exactly the wrong smile. Brenda stared. Then looked toward Mai. Mai looked back. Shammy's hair rose to its full halo. Nadia's eyebrows climbed. Panam glanced toward the ceiling. Kiro slowly set down her coffee. Elisa looked from Ace to Iris, and her expression changed from curiosity to delighted comprehension. She quietly moved her cup out of immediate danger. Iris blinked. "What?" Nobody answered. She looked around. "Why is everybody staring at me?" Brenda began laughing. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Iris frowned. "What?" Brenda pointed at Ace. "There's two of them." Mai nodded. "I noticed." Iris looked at Ace. Ace looked at Iris. Their eyes met. And both smiled. The same helpless, affectionate, entirely incriminating smile. Shammy made a noise that could only be described as delighted electronic interference. "AAAAAH!" Ace covered her face. Iris froze. Then understood. "Oh." Brenda crossed her arms. "Oh, indeed." Mai leaned against the counter. "Your wife looks insufferably pleased with herself." Brenda nodded. "Yours looks like she's discovered religion." Mai considered. "Unlikely. Ace generally requires evidence." Kiro coughed. Brenda looked at Iris. "Sweetheart, you're practically glowing." Iris sighed. "Brenda." "No, seriously. We could switch off the kitchen lights." Mai nodded. "Save on electricity." Brenda looked thoughtful. "Charge the neighbors." "Sell subscriptions." "Premium marital illumination." Elisa raised a hand. "I have a question. Is this being sold as a subscription, or do we get a friends-and-family rate?" Brenda turned toward her with unmistakable delight. "Both. I'm an excellent businesswoman." Kiro regarded the two smiling women. "I'd recommend charging by the minute. The evidence suggests there's no shortage of repeat business." Ace stared at her. "KIRO!" "Purely an economic observation," Kiro replied. Nadia burst out laughing. Panam leaned against the counter. "Jesus Christ." Iris stared at her wife. Then at Mai. "Are you two finished?" Brenda considered. "No." Mai shook her head. "Not remotely." Shammy threw both arms up. "SOMEBODY GET THESE TWO WOMEN A SECOND HONEYMOON!" Ace made a strangled sound. Iris put both hands over her face. And the kitchen dissolved into laughter. *** ### 2:31 PM — The Evidence For several minutes, Ace and Iris were unable to obtain coffee. Not because anyone refused to give them any. But because every attempt to reach the counter triggered another round of commentary. Brenda was enjoying herself far too much. Mai was worse. She had developed a remarkable ability to deliver devastating remarks while looking as though she were discussing the weather. Brenda pointed toward the cups. "Coffee, Iris?" "Please." "Strong?" "Yes." "Of course. You look as though you've had a difficult morning." Iris stared at her. "Brenda." "What?" "I love you." "I know." "Shut up." Brenda grinned. "Love you too." Mai handed Ace a cup. Ace accepted it gratefully. "Thank you." Mai smiled. "You're welcome, darling." A pause. "Sleep well?" Ace closed her eyes. "Mai." "Just asking." "You're enjoying this." "Immensely." Ace took a sip. Then looked at her wife over the rim. "You're a terrible woman." Mai smiled. "And yet you married me." "Questionable judgment." "Apparently contagious." Brenda burst out laughing. Iris pointed toward the two women. "That's enough." Mai raised an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, we've barely started." Brenda nodded. "Besides, my wife has been neglecting a very old friendship." Iris stopped. Something in Brenda's tone had changed. Just slightly. Not enough to interrupt the joke. But enough to be noticed. Brenda smiled at her. "Glad you finally remembered to do something about it." The laughter softened. Ace looked toward Brenda. Then Mai. Both women were smiling. Not indulgently. Not tolerantly. Genuinely. Mai reached for Ace's hand. "She's right, darling." Ace's expression changed. Mai squeezed her fingers and glanced at Iris before looking back at her wife. "Brenda and I both know how close you two became at Specialist Camp. And neither of us has the slightest problem with you finding that closeness again." For once, Ace had no immediate answer. Brenda stepped closer to Iris and rested a hand against her cheek. "My thoughts exactly." Iris looked at her wife, suddenly much quieter. Brenda smiled. "You don't have to pretend that part of your friendship stopped mattering just because life got busy." Mai nodded, still holding Ace's hand. "We'd rather see you both happy." Across the table, Elisa's teasing smile faded into something gentler. She knew these women well enough to recognize when a joke had reached the edge of something genuinely important. Elisa gave the silence room instead of filling it. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Iris kissed her. Warmly. With unmistakable gratitude. When she drew back, Brenda smiled. "Though I do reserve the right to be absolutely fucking unbearable about it." Iris laughed. "Of course you do." Mai nodded solemnly. "It's practically a contractual obligation." Ace looked toward Panam. "Can you believe these two?" Panam considered. Then smiled. "I think they're lovely." Brenda raised her cup. "Thank you." Panam continued. "And completely fucking impossible." Mai laughed. "Also fair." *** ### 2:39 PM — Shammy Knows Shammy had been watching Ace throughout the exchange. Her hair had settled. Mostly. Now she approached quietly. Ace looked at her. Smiled. "Hey, sweetheart." Shammy opened her arms. Ace stepped into them. They held each other. For a long moment, Shammy said nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than usual. "You missed her." Ace rested her cheek against Shammy's shoulder. "Yeah." Shammy tightened the embrace. "I know." Ace drew back. Looked up at her. There was no teasing in Shammy's expression now. Only understanding. She knew about Specialist Camp. She knew that Ace and Iris had shared something difficult to describe and impossible to replace. She also knew how rarely the two women had found time for that part of their closeness afterward. Life had been busy. Their marriages had happened. The honeymoon. Night City. The endless collection of adventures, responsibilities, unexpected visitors, and improbable disasters that constituted ordinary life around the safehouse. There had been affection. Friendship. Laughter. But not nearly enough quiet opportunities for Ace and Iris to simply be together. Shammy touched Ace's cheek. "I'm happy for you." Ace smiled. "I know, sweetheart." "Really." "I know." Shammy kissed her. Ace answered tenderly. Then Shammy pressed her forehead against Ace's. "Don't wait so long next time." Ace laughed softly. "We'll try not to." "GOOD." There it was. The familiar volume. Ace grinned. Shammy caught her again. And Ace laughed into her shoulder. Across the room, Mai watched them with a fond smile. Shammy reached toward her. "MAI!" Mai approached. Slipped into the embrace. And for a moment the three of them stood together in the middle of the kitchen. Ace. Mai. Shammy. Their triad. Entire. Unthreatened. Home. Nadia caught Panam's hand beneath the edge of the counter. Panam squeezed it. They both smiled. Elisa stood near the table with a coffee cup warming her hands. She caught Kiro's eye, gave a small, knowing smile, and turned back toward the stove. Neither woman disturbed the three women embracing. Nobody felt the need to interrupt. Not even Brenda. Which might have been the most remarkable development of the afternoon. *** ### 2:47 PM — Breakfast, Lunch, and Other Lies Shammy finally remembered the food. "OH SHIT!" She spun toward the stove. Panam laughed. "It's fine." "THE POTATOES!" "Also fine." "THE EGGS!" "Not cooked yet." Shammy blinked. "Oh." Nadia shook her head. "Internationally recognized artist." Kiro nodded. "Still defeated by chronology." Shammy pointed toward both of them. "YOU TWO ARE BANNED." "From what?" Nadia asked. "THE KITCHEN." Panam raised an eyebrow. "And who's going to finish the cooking?" Shammy considered. Then sighed. "FINE. UNBANNED." Everybody laughed. The meal was eventually served at 3:06. Shammy insisted on calling it breakfast. Panam called it lunch. Nadia called it the Great Watson Potato Incident. Elisa proposed *The Nine-Person Recovery Operation*. Kiro pointed out that any operation beginning with Shammy arguing with a toaster had already suffered a preventable systems failure. "I HEARD THAT!" Shammy announced. "Good," Kiro replied. "It was included in the report." Ace—still sporting Mandi's outrageous neon-orange ChromeLock hair, though she'd long since dropped the nightclub persona—ate enough to support Shammy's original calculations. Iris stole a piece of toast from her plate. Ace stole it back. Brenda watched. Then looked toward Mai. "There they go again." Mai sighed. "Disgusting." Brenda nodded. "Absolutely shameless." Iris glared. "It's toast." Brenda raised an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Ace nearly inhaled her coffee. Kiro started laughing. Shammy's hair rose. Elisa's shoulders shook as she tried to drink without spilling anything. Elisa looked at the piece of toast between Ace and Iris. "A remarkably efficient way to start another family argument." Nadia buried her face against Panam's shoulder. Mai looked thoughtful. "At least now we know why they were smiling." Iris dropped her head onto the table. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Brenda patted her shoulder. "There, there, darling." Then kissed the top of her head. "Love you." Iris turned just enough to look at her. "You are an appalling human being." Brenda smiled. "Yes." A pause. "Still love you." Iris couldn't help smiling back. "Love you too." *** ### 3:24 PM — The Things That Remain The first rush of eating had passed. Coffee had been replenished. The dishes could wait a few minutes. Across the table, Shammy was explaining to Nadia why the three-minute silence competition had been an artistic triumph. Nadia looked doubtful. "Artistic?" "YES." "Three minutes of a woman not speaking?" "PERFORMANCE ART." Panam considered. "She's not entirely wrong." Nadia stared at her. "Owner." "What?" "You're encouraging her." Panam smiled. "I love her." "That doesn't make her right." "No." Panam kissed Nadia's temple. "But it makes her entertaining." Shammy looked delighted. "THANK YOU!" Kiro nodded thoughtfully. "Conceptual performance with an unusually strict technical constraint." Shammy pointed. "SEE?" Nadia sighed. "Wonderful. Now there's peer review." Elisa leaned forward, interested. "Didn't someone actually pay Mandi to stay silent?" "TWELVE THOUSAND EDDIES!" Shammy proclaimed. Elisa considered. "Then the performance has a market valuation. That makes it a business, at the very least." Kiro nodded. "A compelling experimental result. Although I'd like to see whether it can be repeated." From the other end of the table, Ace called, "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE." "A strong objection," Kiro noted. "Perhaps the result is not reproducible." The table erupted again. At the other end of the table, Brenda was leaning against Iris. Mai sat beside Ace. The four women had fallen into an easier conversation. Less theatrical. Still sharp around the edges. But quieter. Ace turned toward Iris. "Hey." Iris looked up. "Hey." Ace smiled. There it was again. That smile. Iris answered with one of her own. Brenda watched them. Then sighed. "Oh, Christ." Mai looked over. "What?" "They're doing it again." Mai followed her gaze. Then nodded. "Yes." Brenda shook her head. "Like a pair of teenagers." Ace glanced toward her. "We can hear you." Brenda smiled. "Excellent. Saves me repeating myself." Iris laughed. "Brenda." "What?" "Behave." Brenda considered. "No." Mai raised her cup. "I support that decision." Ace looked at her wife. "Of course you do." Mai smiled. "Darling, I married you knowing exactly what I was getting." Ace raised an eyebrow. "Did you?" Mai paused. Then laughed. "All right. Not *exactly*." Brenda leaned toward her. "Understatement of the century." Mai nudged her shoulder. "Shut up." "Make me." Mai turned. Looked at her. Smiled. Brenda smiled back. For an instant, both expressions became distinctly dangerous. Iris closed her eyes. "Oh, here we go." Ace grinned. "Should we leave?" Brenda waved a hand. "Not necessary. We're capable of behaving ourselves in public." Mai gave her a look. "Since when?" Brenda burst out laughing. They shared one of those brief, easy touches that said more about long familiarity than any elaborate declaration could have. Then Mai turned back toward Ace. The teasing softened. She took her wife's hand. "Seriously, darling." Ace looked at her. Mai squeezed her fingers. "Don't let another year go by without making time for Iris." Ace's expression grew thoughtful. Brenda nodded. "Agreed." Iris looked between them. "Both of you?" Brenda raised an eyebrow. "Did you think we were joking?" Iris opened her mouth. Stopped. Then shook her head. "No." "Good." Brenda kissed her cheek. "Because I know you." Mai smiled at Ace. "And I know you." A pause. Then Brenda added: "And frankly, if the two of you continue wandering around the house looking like tragic heroines every time you're apart for more than five minutes, I'm going to start charging admission." Ace laughed. Iris groaned. Mai grinned. "Family discount?" Brenda considered. "For you, sweetheart? Double." Mai burst out laughing. Elisa raised her coffee. "As someone who's actually bought luxury services, I have to say your customer relations are appalling." Brenda bowed her head gravely. "And yet our clients adore us." "Unaccountable market behavior," Kiro said. "KIRO!" Ace protested. "You keep providing new data." *** ### 3:41 PM — A Little Privacy Later, when most of the plates had been cleared, Iris found Ace standing beside the balcony door. The afternoon sun caught the orange of her hair and made it look positively incendiary. The noise from the kitchen had settled into the comfortable murmur of friends tidying up. Elisa and Kiro had taken charge of the dishes after discovering that Shammy considered arranging spoons by dramatic impact a legitimate cleaning strategy. Iris stepped beside her. Ace looked over. "Hey." "Hey." They stood together for a while. Then Iris reached for Ace's hand. Ace took it. Neither spoke immediately. The quiet felt different from the night before. There was no urgency. No need to catch a fleeting opportunity before the world interrupted. Just the two of them. Finally making room for something they'd been missing. Iris looked toward her. "I meant what I said." Ace smiled. "About what?" "Missing you." Ace turned fully toward her. "I know." Iris looked down at their joined hands. "Not the friendship. We never lost that." "No." "But the other part." Ace nodded. "Yeah." Iris swallowed. "I didn't realize how much until we were alone." Ace drew her closer. "I did." Iris looked up. "You did?" Ace smiled a little sadly. "More often than you might think." Iris stepped into her arms. They held one another. Ace kissed her forehead. Iris closed her eyes. For a while, the world consisted of warmth, breathing, and the familiar reassurance of someone whose trust had been earned years ago and never withdrawn. Then Iris drew back slightly. "Can we make more time?" Ace answered without hesitation. "Yes." "No grand arrangements." "No." "No turning it into a fucking project." Ace laughed. "God, no." "Just us. Sometimes." Ace touched her cheek. "Just us." Iris smiled. Then kissed her. Softly. Lovingly. When they separated, Ace rested her forehead against Iris's. "I missed you too." Iris closed her eyes. "I know." *** Inside the kitchen, Brenda looked toward the balcony. Then at Mai. Neither said anything. For once, neither needed to. Brenda slipped an arm around Mai's waist. Mai leaned against her. They watched their wives for a moment. Behind them, Elisa noticed where their attention had gone and quietly returned to the sink, giving the four women their space without making a ceremony of it. Then Brenda spoke quietly. "They needed that." Mai nodded. "Yes." Brenda kissed her temple. "You're a good woman, you know." Mai raised an eyebrow. "Careful. You'll ruin my reputation." Brenda smiled. "Your reputation was fucked long before I got here." Mai began laughing. Then turned toward her. "And yours?" "Immaculate." "Brenda." "What?" Mai gave her a look. Brenda grinned. "All right. Beautifully compromised." Mai laughed again. Then kissed her. Briefly. Affectionately. Entirely because she wanted to. When they drew apart, Brenda smiled. "See? Excellent taste." Mai shook her head. "Absolutely terrible judgment." They laughed. Behind them, Shammy appeared carrying another pot of coffee. She looked toward the balcony. Then toward Mai and Brenda. Her expression softened. For one lovely moment, she seemed content simply to watch the happiness around her. Then she inhaled. Mai turned. "Shammy." Shammy grinned. Mai raised a finger. "Don't." Shammy opened her mouth. Brenda closed her eyes. "Oh, fuck." Shammy threw her head back. "THIS FAMILY IS SO FUCKING ADORABLE!" Panam started laughing from the dining table. Nadia nearly dropped her cup. Elisa burst into laughter beside the sink. Kiro carefully put down the plate she'd been drying. "So much for the quiet afternoon," she observed. Kiro sighed. "Indoor voice." Shammy beamed. "LOVE YOU ALL!" And the Watson safehouse, which had survived another extraordinary Friday night, surrendered completely to the noise. *** ### 4:12 PM — Saturday Is Coming The afternoon drifted onward. Nobody hurried. The women who had spent the previous evening working were enjoying the rare luxury of having no immediate obligations. There would be time to prepare for Lizzie's later. Time for wardrobe. Time for faces and contact lenses, where they were needed. Time to check that every cover was ready for another night—and, if necessary, to touch up the ChromeLock colors and styles already in place. Nobody had bothered with releaser and washing merely to spend a few hours asleep at home. Time for Suzy's programme. Time for whatever strange ideas the next group of customers might bring. For now, there was coffee. And food. And sunlight. And people who loved one another enough to make a ridiculous amount of noise about it. Panam sat with Nadia nestled against one side and Shammy against the other. Ace had reclaimed Mai's hand. Iris had returned from the balcony and settled beside Brenda. Elisa had taken a place at the table and was listening with obvious pleasure to the latest version of the night's ridiculous stories. Kiro was pretending not to listen to an increasingly filthy argument about whether Mandi's silence performance qualified as evidence of supernatural intervention. Eventually, Suzy sent a short message to Panam. It was a floor briefing, not a list of confirmed reservations. A few guests had already approached the club staff with ideas for Saturday evening. Some were ordinary. Some were promising. And some, judging by Suzy's carefully chosen wording, were unusually imaginative. Suzy had given them one consistent answer: the people involved would decide for themselves, and Madame Panam would discuss any Stable bookings with the customers **in person** when she arrived. Nothing had been promised over an agent. Panam read the briefing. Raised an eyebrow. Read it again. Nadia noticed. "Owner?" Panam looked up. "Hm?" "That expression." "What expression?" "The one you make when somebody's about to become your problem." Shammy leaned closer. "OHHH?" Panam glanced at the message. Then smiled slowly. "Interesting." Across the room, Mai looked toward her. "Everything all right?" "Perfectly." Brenda raised an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous." Panam considered. Then laughed. "Let's just say tonight's customers seem to have been doing some thinking." Kiro looked up. "That rarely ends well." Elisa lifted her cup. "We're among the people doing the thinking too. An excellent reason not to underestimate the customers. Or us." Ace grinned. "Depends who's thinking." Iris smiled. "Depends what they're thinking about." Mai looked toward Brenda. Brenda met her eyes. Both women smiled with unmistakable wickedness. Shammy looked around the room. Then clasped her hands together. "OH, THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN!" Panam sighed. But she was smiling. "Yes, sweetheart." She put down her agent. Reached for Nadia's hand. Then Shammy's. "Something tells me it will." Outside, Night City was already preparing for another evening. Inside the safehouse, nine friends had gathered around an extravagantly overfed table, and nobody was ready to surrender the afternoon just yet. And for once, that was exactly as it should be. --- ## Chapter 7 — Held Lightly *Saturday, November 2, 2077 — 7:41 PM* *Lizzie’s Bar* Saturday did not begin quietly. It did not even make a serious attempt. By seven forty-one, Lizzie’s already had a line outside long enough for Lisa to add a second Mox to the door and short enough that Suzy Q was still pretending this was normal. It was not normal. Friday had travelled. Stories had escaped the club in the way stories always escaped Night City: stripped of context, polished into something more interesting, then hurled into feeds, private groups, corpo chats, club boards and whatever passed for gossip among people who had more money than patience. Someone had apparently paid Mandi twelve thousand eddies not to speak for three minutes. Two artists had charged five million merely for a conversation. A corpo had discovered that money did not, in fact, purchase ownership of another human being. The Wild Muses cards had become a minor obsession overnight. And now Saturday had arrived carrying consequences. Suzy stood behind the main booking station, looked at the growing floor, and sighed. “More blue cards.” Lisa glanced over. “We already doubled them.” “Triple.” “You said doubling would be enough.” “I was younger then.” “That was four hours ago.” “I’ve grown.” Lisa laughed. --- Across the room, Panam had established herself at her usual table with all five pets nearby: Sera, Nadia, Mandi, Nova, and Vega. Not behind her. Not arranged for display. Nearby. That distinction mattered. Sera sat close enough that Panam could rest a hand against her thigh when she wanted to. Nadia had one elbow on the table and was watching the room with the delighted expression of an artist who had just discovered that human behavior remained the most entertaining medium in Night City. Mandi occupied one side of Panam with considerably less stillness. Nova and Vega shared the other end of the seating area, close enough to exchange comments whenever Mandi drew breath. Five leash lines ran back to their owner. Loose. Easy. Visible. Sera’s and Nadia’s handles rested together through the fingers of Panam’s left hand, with Nova’s and Vega’s beside them. Mandi’s leash lay in her right, the graphite collar beneath her screaming neon-orange hair catching the club light whenever she moved. None of the five women needed a line to tell her where she belonged. All five liked knowing Panam had the other end. “SATURDAY!” Mandi announced. Panam looked at her. “Yes, sweetheart.” “IT’S FUCKING BUSY!” “I noticed.” “THIS IS GREAT!” Nadia smiled. “You say that now.” Mandi pointed at her. “THAT SOUNDS LIKE FORESHADOWING.” “It probably is.” Sera’s silver-white hair lifted with her grin. “I LIKE SATURDAYS.” Panam kissed her cheek. “I know, pet.” Mandi looked around the club again. Then spotted something near the entrance. Her face lit up. “OH!” She half-rose. The leash moved in Panam’s hand. Not a restraint. A reminder. Mandi looked down at it, then at Panam. Panam raised one eyebrow. Mandi grinned. “RIGHT. OWNER.” Panam’s mouth twitched. “Who?” Mandi pointed. Mira and Della were making their way through the crowd toward them. “THEY CAME BACK!” Nadia watched Mandi practically vibrate in place. “She has the energy of a guided missile.” Sera considered. “A very small guided missile.” Panam looked at the leash in her hand. “A very securely tethered guided missile.” Mandi gasped. “SLANDER!” They all smiled. --- ### 7:48 PM — Return Customers Mira had barely reached Panam’s table before Mandi was on her feet. Panam let the leash line travel easily with her. “You CAME BACK!” Mira laughed as Mandi hugged her. “We said we would.” “PEOPLE SAY LOTS OF THINGS!” Della stepped around them. “And yet here we are.” Nova turned from Panam’s table when she saw Della, her own leash line still comfortably slack. Della’s smile changed when she saw her. It was not dramatic. That was what made it so obvious. Nova saw it. Vega saw Nova see it. And Vega, because she was Vega, murmured as she passed: “Oh, this is going to be disgusting.” Nova did not even look at her. “Behave.” “I am behaving.” “You haven’t started yet.” “Exactly.” Della reached Nova. “Hello.” Nova smiled. “Hello.” A beat. Then Della kissed her cheek. Publicly, there was nothing unusual in it. Nova and Vega were known as affectionate professional partners, surrounded by people who kissed friends, lovers, colleagues and clients with cheerful disregard for anyone interested in drawing tidy categories. Privately, the warmth in Nova’s answering smile belonged entirely to Iris. Della did not know that. She did not need to. “Good night?” Nova asked. “After I left?” “Yes.” Della considered. “Restless.” Nova raised an eyebrow. “Tragic.” “I suffered.” “Heroically?” “Extremely.” Vega arrived beside them with two drinks. “She mentioned your name three times before we reached the first intersection.” Della stared at her. “You promised not to tell her that.” “I promised nothing.” Mira, still caught in Mandi’s orbit, called across the floor: “She mentioned it five times.” “TRAITOR!” Mandi shouted back. “THIS GROUP HAS NO LOYALTY!” Della covered her face. Nova laughed. Then touched her arm. “I’m glad you came back.” Della lowered her hands. “Me too.” At the booking desk, Suzy looked up just long enough to see the reunion. Then returned to the next problem. Saturday had plenty. --- ### 8:03 PM — The Soft Face Deja had learned something useful about her cover. The soft face made polite men more careful. It made rude men stupider. Both could be educational. She stood near one end of the bar in ivory and cream, dark venom-green ChromeLock hair nearly black beneath the club lighting until a moving beam caught it and revealed the color beneath. Warm amber eyes. Soft mouth. Gentle face. Dalia stood beside her. Neon-pink dreadlocks. Emerald-reflective eyes. Menthol lollipop between her lips. And the handle of Deja’s leash resting casually in one hand. The line between them hung loose. Not slack enough to drag. Not tight enough to guide. Simply there. A visible connection. Deja liked it. She had stopped trying to explain exactly why. Kiro could have produced three pages of analysis if asked. Deja preferred the shorter answer. Because. Dalia noticed her looking. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was a suspicious nothing.” “You’re holding the leash correctly.” Dalia slowly removed the lollipop from her mouth. “Darling.” “Yes?” “I’ve been holding it correctly for months.” “I know.” “And you decided to evaluate my technique now?” “I’m maintaining standards.” Dalia stared. Deja smiled sweetly. Dalia put the lollipop back in her mouth. “Sharp mouth.” “So I’m told.” A man had been standing near the booking station for nearly a minute. He was watching them. Not staring. That was another useful distinction. He looked to be somewhere around forty, dressed well without advertising the price, shoulders relaxed except for the tiny stiffness of someone deciding whether a question was appropriate before asking it. Deja noticed him notice the leash. Then noticed him look away from it and meet her eyes. That helped. He approached Suzy first. That helped more. Dalia saw it too. “Potentially civilized,” she murmured. Deja kept her expression serene. “A bold diagnosis from this distance.” “I’m gifted.” “No evidence.” Dalia laughed quietly. A moment later, Suzy looked toward them and lifted two fingers. Invitation. Not summons. Dalia glanced at Deja. “Interested?” Deja looked at the man once more. He was still speaking to Suzy, not peering past her as if the women themselves were merchandise waiting for inspection. “Yes.” Dalia handed her lollipop to a passing Mox, who accepted it with the long-suffering expression of someone used to this exact problem. “Guard that with your life.” “Fuck off.” “See? Excellent staff.” Deja smiled. Together they crossed the room. --- ### 8:09 PM — Ask Properly The man stood when they reached the table. That was not required. It was nice. “Good evening.” “Good evening,” Dalia said. Deja sat beside her. The leash still curved loosely between them. Suzy remained standing at the end of the table. “This is Martin.” The man nodded. “Martin Hale.” Deja smiled. “Deja.” “Dalia.” “I know.” Martin hesitated. “I hope that doesn’t sound strange.” Dalia leaned back. “Depends what else you know.” He laughed once. Nervous, but not badly. “Only what the club advertises.” “Excellent start.” Suzy’s mouth twitched. Martin looked toward Deja. “I wanted to ask about a private appointment.” “With me?” Deja asked. “Yes.” “And Dalia?” “I’d like her there too.” Dalia’s eyebrow rose. “Doing what?” He glanced at the leash. Then back at Deja. “Holding that.” No one answered immediately. Martin did not rush to fill the silence. That helped too. Deja tilted her head. “For the whole appointment?” “If you’re comfortable with it.” “I am.” He relaxed slightly. Then Dalia spoke. “You should understand something before we go further.” “Of course.” “The collar and leash are Deja’s before they are anyone else’s business.” Martin nodded. “They don’t make Deja obedient to you. They don’t give you control. They don’t mean she has agreed to something simply because you ask.” “I understand.” Deja watched him carefully. He did not look offended. Did not launch into a speech about how respectful he was. Did not explain himself to death. He simply nodded. That helped more than anything else so far. “So,” Deja said, “what exactly would you like?” Martin took a breath. “Dalia holding the leash. Attached throughout.” “Yes.” “And I would prefer…” He paused, choosing his words. “If we have intercourse, I’d like it from behind.” Dalia’s eyes moved toward Deja. Deja met them. The question passed without words. Do you want that? Yes. Deja looked back at Martin. “Only from behind?” “Yes.” She smiled. “That suits me.” His expression changed. Relief first. Then a little surprise. Deja’s smile sharpened by one degree. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was a suspicious nothing.” Dalia laughed. Martin smiled. “I suppose I expected you to think the request was odd.” “Martin,” Deja said gently, “you’re sitting in Lizzie’s asking a woman in an ivory collar if her pink-haired handler can hold her leash while you fuck her from behind.” He blinked. Dalia covered her mouth. Suzy turned away. Deja continued in exactly the same calm tone. “The threshold for ‘odd’ is doing quite well tonight.” Martin laughed. Actually laughed. The tension left his shoulders. Dalia recovered first. “Jesus Christ, darling.” “What?” “Nothing.” Deja looked at Martin. “She makes suspicious nothings too.” “So I see.” Suzy finally sat. “All right. Let’s make this boring for thirty seconds.” That got everyone’s attention. “Private room. Ninety minutes. Deja and Dalia are both booked, because Dalia is not furniture. The leash remains attached because Deja wants it attached. Dalia holds it. Martin does not. Position is as discussed, subject to Deja changing her mind at any time. Anything else requires another conversation before it happens.” Martin nodded. Deja nodded. Dalia nodded. Suzy stated the two separate ninety-minute fees, using the same rates Dalia and Deja had accepted on Friday. “Thirty-seven thousand five hundred for Deja, and thirty-seven thousand five hundred for Dalia. Seventy-five thousand eddies total.” Martin accepted without bargaining. Payment cleared. Then Suzy looked at Deja. “Your choice?” “Yes.” Dalia? “Yes.” Martin? “Absolutely.” Suzy smiled. “Then enjoy yourselves.” As they stood, Martin glanced at Deja. “May I offer my arm?” Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia’s mouth twitched. Deja returned her attention to him. “You may.” Martin offered it. Deja took it. Dalia followed with the leash. Three steps later, Deja said softly: “Very civilized.” Dalia answered from behind them. “Don’t reward him too early.” Martin laughed again. --- ### 8:27 PM — Room Eight The private room was warm, quiet and deliberately less theatrical than the main floor. No audience. No pulsing wall advertisements. No music loud enough to turn conversation into shouting. Dalia closed the door. Martin stopped near the seating area rather than immediately moving toward Deja. Again: useful. Deja released his arm. “Still nervous?” “A little.” “Good.” He looked surprised. She smiled. “Nervous people tend to pay attention.” Dalia set her small bag on a side table. “Overconfident people tend to meet Lisa.” “I saw her at the door.” “Then you understand the stakes.” Martin smiled. “I do.” Dalia stepped behind Deja and touched two fingers lightly beneath the collar. Not checking whether it was locked. Checking Deja. “All right?” Deja leaned back a fraction into the touch. “Yes.” “The leash stays?” “Yes.” Dalia gave the line a tiny lift. Deja felt the familiar pull at the collar. Barely pressure. Mostly awareness. She smiled. Martin saw it. “You really do like that.” Deja looked at him. “Yes.” Simple. No apology. No performance. Martin nodded. “Good.” Dalia’s expression softened. “See? He learns.” Deja glanced over her shoulder. “You’re being condescending.” “I’m being encouraging.” “Poorly.” Martin started laughing. There. Room settled. People settled. The strange geometry of the booking became less strange once everyone stopped staring at it. Deja kissed Martin first. Not because the booking demanded it. Because she wanted to. His answer was careful at first. She touched his jaw. He relaxed. The second kiss lasted longer. Behind her, Dalia remained near enough to be felt without crowding them. Deja liked that too. The leash moved when she moved. Always light. Always there. When Martin’s hands reached her waist, he paused. Deja nodded. “Yes.” Only then did he continue. Dalia watched quietly. Not judging. Not supervising every breath. Holding structure. Exactly as Deja wanted. They took their time. Clothing came away in stages, interrupted by kisses, laughter and one moment in which Martin caught part of Deja’s expensive ivory outfit on the wrong fastening. He froze. Deja looked down. Then up at him. “That’s Lena’s.” Martin went pale. Dalia made a choking noise. Deja held the silence for exactly two seconds. Then smiled. “I’m joking.” Martin closed his eyes. “You are cruel.” “Only conversationally.” Dalia laughed openly now. “Welcome to Deja.” --- When they were ready, the mood changed without becoming solemn. Deja turned toward Dalia first. Not Martin. Dalia understood immediately. She stepped closer. Touched Deja’s cheek. “Still yes?” Deja smiled. “Yes, Master.” Dalia kissed her. Slow. Familiar. Then she stepped to Deja’s side and gathered the leash more securely into her hand, leaving plenty of line. Martin waited. Deja positioned herself the way they had agreed. Only then did she look back at him. “Come here.” He did. The first joining was careful. Clear. Deja drew a sharp breath when he entered her from behind, then held still for a moment. Martin stopped with her. Dalia’s thumb stroked once across the leash handle. Not pulling. Simply present. Deja closed her eyes. The sensation settled. Pleasure replaced the brief intensity of adjustment. She opened her eyes again. Dalia was watching her. “All right?” Deja’s mouth curved. “Oh, yes.” Martin laughed softly behind her. “That sounded convincing.” Deja glanced back. “Would you prefer a written report?” “No.” “Good.” He began to move only after she moved with him. The rhythm built gradually. Nothing hurried. Nothing performed for an imagined audience. The leash remained in Dalia’s hand, its light movement marking Deja’s motion without directing it. Every so often Deja looked toward her. Every time Dalia was there. That mattered more than she had expected the first time they tried this arrangement. It mattered now. Martin’s hand settled at her hip. Deja accepted it. His other hand started to move higher. She caught it. “Not there.” He stopped instantly. “Sorry.” “No problem.” She guided his hand where she wanted it instead. “There.” “Understood.” Dalia smiled. Martin noticed. “I’m learning.” “You are,” Dalia said. Deja’s soft face turned toward her. “Don’t sound so shocked.” “I’m trying to preserve his confidence.” “Very generous.” Their laughter broke the intensity just enough. Then the rhythm found them again. Deja’s sharp mouth became less useful for a while. Her breathing changed. The pleasure built in a way she could no longer reduce to dry commentary. Dalia saw it. Held the leash a little more securely. Still not tight. Never control. Just connection. Deja reached one hand toward her. Dalia caught it. That was enough. When Deja finally came, the sound that escaped her was more surprised than elegant. She laughed once in the middle of it. Then bowed her head and let the feeling take her. Martin slowed immediately. Dalia kept hold of her hand. Deja breathed. Recovered. Looked toward Dalia. The answer was written all over her face. Yes. Still yes. Martin waited until she moved again. Then followed. Later, when his own pleasure overtook him, he stayed careful even through the loss of control. Deja noticed. Of course she noticed. Professional habit. Kiro’s attention. Deja’s satisfaction. All of it at once. Then stillness. Breathing. The room slowly returning. Martin rested his forehead briefly against Deja’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Deja smiled. “You’re welcome.” Dalia loosened the leash back into its easy curve. She had never tightened it. Deja liked that most of all. --- ### 9:19 PM — One More Thing Martin was dressed again from the waist down and sitting on the edge of the chair with a glass of water. Deja had reclaimed most of her clothing. Dalia had reclaimed none of her composure. She was staring at Deja. Deja noticed. Naturally. “What?” Dalia removed her lollipop from where she had rescued it from her bag. Did not put it in her mouth. “Nothing.” Deja’s eyes narrowed. “That was a suspicious nothing.” Martin looked between them. “I’m beginning to recognize those.” “Excellent,” Deja said. “You may survive.” Dalia walked closer. The leash was still attached. Still in her hand. Deja looked up. The room shifted. Not professionally. Personally. Dalia touched her chin. Then said, very quietly: “On your back.” Deja’s soft expression became something considerably less innocent. “You could say please.” “I could.” Martin lowered his glass. Dalia’s mouth curved. Deja held her gaze. “Thought so.” Dalia laughed. Then the teasing softened. She touched Deja’s cheek. “You want me?” There it was. The actual question beneath the command. Deja answered without hesitation. “Yes, Master.” Dalia glanced toward Martin. He was watching now, but not assuming. Not moving. Not inserting himself into a moment that had changed shape. Dalia nodded toward the chair. “You can stay.” Martin’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re both sure.” Deja looked toward him. “We are.” “Then yes. I’d like to.” “Watching only,” Dalia said. “Of course.” Deja shifted onto her back. The leash remained clipped. Dalia set its handle beside Deja’s hand for a moment while she leaned down to kiss her. Deja caught her around the neck. The kiss deepened. Familiarity changed everything. Martin had kissed Deja carefully because he was learning her. Dalia kissed her like somebody who already knew where the laughter would come, where the breath would catch, where Deja would pretend composure for three seconds longer than necessary. When Dalia moved lower, Deja’s hand found her hair. Neon-pink against ivory. Dalia paused. Looked up. Deja’s eyes were warm and bright. “Yes,” Deja whispered. Dalia smiled. Then gave her the oral pleasure she had asked for. The first intimate contact drew a sudden breath from Deja and wiped the sharp remark she had plainly been preparing straight out of existence. Dalia noticed. Of course she did. She looked up with infuriating satisfaction. Deja stared down at her. “Don’t.” Dalia’s eyes laughed. “Don’t what?” “You know exactly what.” Martin covered his mouth. Deja looked toward him. “Do not encourage her.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You made a face.” Dalia laughed against her. That ended Deja’s ability to prosecute the matter. Her head fell back. The room narrowed. Not to Martin. Not to the leash. Not even to the strange pleasure of being watched after a professional booking. To Dalia. To the woman she trusted. To the woman holding structure even now, when the professional part of the evening had already dissolved into something chosen only because they wanted it. Deja’s breathing shortened. Her fingers tightened briefly in the pink dreadlocks, then loosened at once. Dalia’s hand found hers. The leash handle lay between their joined fingers. Deja laughed softly at the absurd perfection of that. Then the pleasure broke over her again. This time there was no surprise. Only surrender to something familiar and wanted. She came with Dalia’s name half-formed on her lips. Dalia stayed with her through the aftershocks, then climbed back up beside her. Deja caught her face and kissed her. No hurry. No audience mattered now. Martin remained where he was, smiling with the unmistakable expression of a man who had received significantly more beauty than he had expected from a Saturday night. When they parted, Deja rested her forehead against Dalia’s. “You enjoyed that.” Dalia smiled. “Immensely.” “Smug.” “Accurate.” Deja turned her head toward Martin. “Well?” He laughed. “I’m trying very hard to answer that like a civilized man.” “Take your time.” “I think ‘thank you’ is safest.” Dalia laughed. “Excellent instincts.” --- ### 9:43 PM — Return to the Floor The booking ended without drama. That alone made it unusual enough to remember. Martin thanked Suzy. Then Dalia. Then Deja. In that order only because Suzy happened to be standing closest. “I’d like to ask again another night,” he said. Deja smiled. “You may ask.” “Not guaranteed.” “Correct.” He nodded. “I like that.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “You may be dangerously well adjusted.” “I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” Deja smiled. “Please do.” Martin left. Suzy watched him go. Then looked at Deja. “Well?” “Pleasant.” “Dalia?” “Very.” Suzy’s eyes moved toward them. Something in Dalia’s expression betrayed more than the booking itself. Her eyebrows rose. Deja saw it happen. “No.” Suzy smiled. “I didn’t say anything.” “You made a silence.” Dalia turned toward Deja. “Oh, God.” Suzy laughed. “I like this version of you.” “Everyone does until I start talking.” “Fair.” Lisa passed behind them. Looked from Dalia to Deja. Then kept walking. Deja watched her go. “She knows.” Dalia put the lollipop back in her mouth. “Lisa always knows.” “That seems inefficient.” “For us?” “For civilization.” --- ### 9:51 PM — The Room Gets Ideas Saturday had become louder while they were gone. Not merely in volume. In intent. The Wild Muses display had a small crowd around it. Conversation cards disappeared almost as quickly as staff replaced them. Blue performance requests had become increasingly inventive. Crimson private invitations were stacking up at the booking desk in a way that made Suzy periodically look toward the ceiling as if searching for divine patience. Mira had settled beside Mandi at Panam’s table. That was already dangerous. Della was still with Nova. That was dangerous in an entirely different way. And four men in coordinated jackets had been arguing near one of the side tables for long enough that even Deja noticed. One of them pointed toward Mandi. Another immediately grabbed his wrist and pushed the pointing hand down. Dalia followed Deja’s gaze. “Bachelor party.” “You can tell?” “Matching jackets. One man pretending he isn’t terrified. Three pretending they aren’t responsible.” “Compelling.” Mandi saw them looking. Then saw the four men. Then slowly grinned. Deja sighed. “That expression should require a permit.” “Too late.” Mandi leaned toward Mira. Said something. Mira looked at the four men. Then at Mandi. Then laughed so hard she had to put her drink down. “Promising,” Dalia said. “Threatening.” “Both.” --- Across the floor, Vega had just joined Nova and Della. A couple stood nearby. The woman was doing most of the talking. Her boyfriend stood beside her with a relaxed smile and the unmistakable posture of someone who was perfectly happy to let his partner negotiate her own adventure. Nova listened. Vega listened. Then both women looked at one another. That look was different. Interested. Very interested. Dalia saw it. “Oh.” Deja followed her gaze. “Oh.” At Panam’s table, Nadia had seen the same thing. She leaned toward Sera. Said something. Sera’s hair rose. Panam looked from them toward Nova and Vega. Then back. “No.” Neither woman had asked anything. Nadia smiled. “Owner.” “I know that smile.” Sera looked innocent. Panam stared at her. “Both of you.” Nadia laughed. --- ### 10:02 PM — The Man at the Bar And then Deja saw him. A familiar corpo. Not close. Not approaching. Not waving money. Just sitting at the bar with a drink. He had returned. The same man who had learned the previous night that a large account balance did not create a special law of physics around him. Tonight he appeared to have remembered the lesson. He spoke politely to the bartender. Ordered another drink. Did not approach Sera. Did not approach Nadia. Did not approach Panam. Lisa had noticed him before anyone else. Naturally. She stood near the far wall with two Moxes within easy reach and watched without making the watching obvious. Deja tilted her head. Dalia followed her attention. “Oh, him.” “He came back.” “Apparently.” “Brave.” “Or stupid.” “Those categories overlap.” Dalia smiled. “Sharp mouth.” “Accurate mouth.” At the bar, the corpo took another drink. Waited. Behaved. For now. Suzy noticed him too. She and Lisa exchanged a glance. Nothing more. No need. A paying customer who followed the rules was a customer. Even if everyone in the building quietly expected him to test the definition again. --- ### 10:11 PM — Four Men, One Volunteer The bachelor party finally moved. All four approached Suzy first. Not Mandi. That earned them points immediately. The spokesman got as far as, “We were wondering about Mandi—” Suzy lifted one hand. “Her bookings go through Madame.” The four men followed her glance. Panam sat with five leash handles gathered in her hands and one extremely interested neon-orange pet beside her. Mandi practically vibrated. Mira caught her arm. “Do not sprint.” “I CAN’T. LEASH.” Panam looked at her. Mandi grinned. “SEE? RESPONSIBLE PET.” Nadia covered her mouth. Sera’s hair rose. Suzy pointed the men toward Panam. “Ask properly.” They did. The groom spoke first. That became obvious after the other three contradicted him twice in the first twenty seconds. “We were wondering whether Mandi might be available for a private booking.” Panam did not answer for her. She looked at Mandi. “Interested, sweetheart?” Mandi looked over all four men with open curiosity. Then smiled. “VERY.” Panam nodded once. Only then did she turn back to the group. “Original plan?” The groom took a breath. “All four of us in the room. One participant.” “Which one?” His best man raised a hand. Mandi leaned forward in her chair. “VERY PROFESSIONAL!” Every head turned toward her. Panam gave the leash the smallest tug. Mandi stopped. Immediately. Her black eyes widened. Then she grinned. “RIGHT. SORRY, OWNER.” Mira was already laughing. Panam returned her attention to the men. “One participant. Three observers. Ninety minutes?” “That was the idea.” Panam heard the tense. “Was?” Three men looked at the fourth. The fourth looked at the floor. Panam’s eyebrow rose. “Start with what you came here to ask for.” The groom nodded. “One participant. Three observers. Nothing else unless Mandi wants something different too.” That earned him a better look from Panam. And from Mandi. Panam glanced down at her pet. “Sweetheart?” Mandi’s grin had become dangerous. “I LIKE THE ORIGINAL PLAN.” A beat. “SO FAR.” The groom laughed nervously. Panam’s mouth twitched. “Anything else?” He looked at Mandi. Mandi looked back. “Not originally,” he admitted. There it was again. Originally. Panam leaned back. “Then we negotiate the original booking first. If anyone wants to change it later, everyone involved agrees again. Including me.” Mandi nodded brightly. “MY OWNER.” Panam looked at her. Mandi’s smile softened for half a second. Then returned at full wattage. Panam began discussing time, price, limits, and the fact that three spectators remained spectators unless a new agreement was made. Suzy, back at her own station, watched the exchange from across the room. Correct channel. Correct woman making the decision. Correct owner handling the booking. And judging by Mandi’s expression, absolutely no guarantee the original plan would survive first contact with reality. --- A short distance away, Nova and Vega arrived with the couple and waited while Panam finished settling the groom’s initial inquiry. The boyfriend was smiling. The girlfriend looked excited enough that even Vega had stopped teasing. When Panam was free to listen, Celeste gave her the first sentence. One eyebrow rose. Panam looked at Nova, then Vega, and saw genuine interest in both faces. But another booking was already under negotiation. She told Celeste and Adrian they were welcome to return with the question when she had time to give all four people her full attention; no one was promising an appointment yet. Celeste smiled. “Then we’ll come back.” Nova answered with a small, unmistakably interested smile. “We’ll be here.” Nadia saw it. Sera saw it. Mandi saw it from halfway across the room and immediately tried to look in two directions at once. Deja watched all of them. Then looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. “What?” Deja smiled. “Nothing.” Dalia narrowed her eyes. “That was a suspicious nothing.” Deja’s smile widened. “I think Saturday has started.” Dalia looked across Lizzie’s. At Mandi and four men. At Nova and Vega with the smiling couple. At the patient corpo at the bar. At Sera and Nadia beside Panam. At Mira and Della, both back exactly where they wanted to be. At Suzy already reaching for another booking screen. At Lisa watching everything. Then she laughed. “Darling.” “Yes?” “I think Saturday started twenty minutes ago.” Deja considered. “Fair.” Dalia lifted the leash handle slightly. “Ready?” Deja felt the gentle tug at her collar. Her smile softened. “For what?” Dalia looked around the room. “Whatever the fuck this becomes.” Deja followed her gaze. Then smiled again. Soft face. Sharp mouth. “Excellent answer.” And somewhere near the booking desk, Mandi shouted: “WAIT, ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE CUTE?” Suzy put both hands over her face. Saturday moved on. --- ## Chapter 8 — The Original Plan _Saturday, November 2, 2077 — 10:14 PM_ _Lizzie’s Bar_ Panam had learned that there were two kinds of people who said _bachelor party_. The first meant four men, too much alcohol, bad judgment, and at least one friend who would need to apologize to somebody by morning. The second meant four men who had apparently spent twenty minutes rehearsing how to ask a professional sex worker a question without sounding like idiots. So far, these appeared to be the second kind. Panam was cautiously impressed. Mandi was openly delighted. She sat beside Panam with her graphite collar visible beneath screaming neon-orange hair, black contacts fixed on the four men as if someone had delivered a surprise package addressed specifically to her. Her leash remained in Panam’s hand. The groom sat opposite. Beside him were the best man, a broad-shouldered man with an easy smile named Theo; a quieter man called Elias; and a fourth, Jonah, who had already apologized twice for the matching jackets. Mandi loved the jackets. “THEY’RE TERRIBLE.” Jonah sighed. “Thank you.” “I MEAN THAT AFFECTIONATELY.” “That somehow makes it worse.” Mira, sitting close enough to listen but not part of the negotiation, covered her mouth. Panam tapped two fingers against the table. “Original booking first.” All four men immediately looked back at her. Good. “One participant,” Panam said. “Three observers. Ninety minutes. Mandi chooses what she does with the participant within the boundaries you agree together. Watching does not become touching because someone gets enthusiastic.” Theo nodded. “That was the plan.” Mandi leaned toward him. “YOU’RE THE VOLUNTEER?” Theo looked toward his friends. “They volunteered me.” The groom lifted both hands. “You drew the short straw.” “I drew the _long_ straw.” Mandi slapped the table. “I LIKE HIM.” Panam caught the leash before Mandi could lunge forward to shake his hand. Mandi felt the line move. Stopped. Looked at Panam. Then grinned. “RESPONSIBLE PET.” “Debatable.” Nadia laughed from Panam’s other side. Sera’s silver-white hair lifted. Mandi looked back at the men. “SO. ONE OF YOU PLAYS. THREE OF YOU WATCH.” “That’s it,” the groom said. Mandi’s grin became noticeably more dangerous. “For now?” The groom made the mistake of looking at the other three. Panam saw it. Mandi definitely saw it. Theo laughed. “We discussed the possibility that the plan might… evolve.” Panam’s expression did not change. “Plans don’t evolve by themselves.” “No, Madame.” “They get renegotiated.” “Yes.” “With Mandi.” He nodded. “With Mandi.” “And with me.” Another nod. “With you.” Mandi smiled. “My owner.” The words landed naturally. Proudly. Not an explanation. Not a performance. Panam glanced at her. Mandi’s expression softened for half a second. Then she looked back at the men. “SO WHO’S GETTING MARRIED?” The groom raised one hand. Mandi looked him over. Then Theo. Then Elias. Then Jonah. Then back to the groom. “And _you’re_ not the original participant?” “No.” “WHY?” The groom started laughing. “It seemed less predictable.” Mandi stared. Then slowly pointed at him. “I LIKE YOU TOO.” Panam sighed. “This is going to be a long ninety minutes.” “OWNER.” “Yes, sweetheart?” “I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED.” “That is exactly what concerns me.” --- ### 10:27 PM — Terms and Conditions The booking took longer to negotiate than most. Not because anyone was difficult. Because everybody had questions. Panam preferred questions. Questions were much easier to work with than assumptions. Mandi spoke directly with Theo about what they both wanted. He was attracted to her. She was attracted to him. That simplified things. The others wanted to watch, tease their friend, drink something non-destructive, and enjoy the absurdity of a bachelor party that had somehow ended with a five-foot-never-going-to-happen neon-orange professional sitting across from them and calling their jackets terrible. Mandi was not five feet. Not remotely. When Theo finally stood beside her, the scale difference became almost comical. Mandi looked up. And up. Then at Panam. “OWNER.” Panam already knew. “No.” “I DIDN’T ASK.” “You were going to.” Mandi looked offended. Theo tried not to laugh. Panam continued. “You are not climbing him.” Mandi’s mouth fell open. Nadia folded over. Sera made a delighted squeaking sound. Mira lost the battle entirely and buried her face in both hands. Mandi pointed at Panam. “THAT WAS NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO ASK.” Panam looked at her. Mandi held the expression. Three seconds. Four. Then: “IT WAS MY SECOND QUESTION.” Theo laughed so hard he had to sit down. Panam closed her eyes. “Christ.” The groom wiped his eyes. “I think we’re going to like this.” Panam looked at him. “You’re paying seventy thousand for the original ninety-minute booking.” The laughter stopped. Not because the number shocked them. Because Panam had switched into business without changing volume. The groom nodded. “Agreed.” “That covers Mandi and the room under the terms we just discussed. It does not cover four participants. It does not cover extensions. It does not purchase improvisation.” “Understood.” Panam looked toward Mandi. “Sweetheart?” Mandi checked herself. Not theatrically. Actually checked. Interest. Energy. Comfort. Desire. “Yes, Owner.” “You want the booking?” “Yes.” “Original terms?” “Yes.” Panam looked at the four men. “The payment goes through me.” The groom confirmed the seventy-thousand-eddie transfer to Panam’s booking account. Her agent displayed the receipt. Panam stood. Mandi stood with her. The five leash handles shifted in Panam’s hands. Sera and Nadia remained close, watching with interest. Nova and Vega had already exchanged a few promising words with Celeste and Adrian; their proper conversation with Panam would happen later, once the couple returned and all four could give it their full attention. Panam stepped close to Mandi. She touched the collar first. Mandi went still. Not frightened. Attentive. Panam unclipped the leash. Click. The absence registered immediately. Mandi looked down at the free ring. Then back up. Panam folded the detached leash into her hand. “Bring it back to me.” Mandi’s fingers closed around it. “Yes, Owner.” “Ninety minutes unless we renegotiate.” “Yes.” “If it changes?” “I CALL YOU.” “Not after.” “BEFORE.” “Good.” Panam kissed her. Warm. Brief. Hers. Mandi smiled against her mouth. Then turned toward the four men. “GENTLEMEN.” She pointed toward the private corridor. “LET’S RUIN THE ORIGINAL PLAN.” Panam caught the back of her collar before she got two steps. Mandi stopped. Slowly looked over her shoulder. Panam raised an eyebrow. “Original plan first.” Mandi’s grin returned. “Yes, Owner.” Mira applauded. --- ### 10:39 PM — Room Five Theo was still laughing when the door closed. Mandi looked at him. “YOU LAUGH A LOT.” “You’re funny.” “I’M ALSO EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE.” “I noticed.” “GOOD.” The groom took one of the chairs. Elias chose the sofa. Jonah remained standing until Mandi pointed. “SIT.” He sat. Then blinked. “Why did I do that?” Mandi looked down at the loose leash coiled in her hand. “WRONG WOMAN.” Everyone laughed. That helped. The room relaxed. Mandi set the leash where she could reach it easily. Not discarded. Not forgotten. Waiting for its return to Panam. Then she looked at Theo. “COME HERE.” He did. The first kiss made the room quieter. Not silent. The groom still made a low appreciative sound. Jonah immediately elbowed him. Mandi broke the kiss. Looked over Theo’s shoulder. “NO, NO. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO REACT.” The groom grinned. “This is weird.” “GOOD WEIRD?” “Very.” “THEN WE’RE FINE.” Theo touched Mandi’s waist. Paused. She looked up. “Yes.” He relaxed. They kissed again. Mandi let the original terms stand for a while. Theo was the only participant; Cal, Elias, and Jonah remained observers, welcome to laugh but not to join in. They stayed standing for the first kiss. Theo’s hands settled at Mandi’s waist and stayed there until she nodded. She turned them so her back was toward the bed and drew him down with her. The other three remained in their chairs, watching without comment beyond the occasional low sound of appreciation that Mandi had already permitted. Clothing came off in stages. Mandi’s outfit first, because she helped with the fastenings herself; Theo’s followed when she reached for his belt. She kept the collar. When they were bare she guided him between her thighs and took him in slowly, both of them exhaling at the same time. She set the pace, small controlled movements rather than anything dramatic, one hand braced against his shoulder. Theo followed, careful, watching her face. “Like that,” she said once, quieter than usual. He adjusted. She came first with a sharp breath and a hand that tightened, then loosened, in the bedding. He slowed immediately. She kissed him, then rolled them so she was on top and sank down again. The second time she was louder; the observers made appreciative noises that she acknowledged with a grin over her shoulder before returning her attention to Theo. He finished with his forehead against her collarbone, arms careful around her. They stayed close for a minute. And sometime around eleven o’clock, she looked over Theo’s shoulder and realized the original plan was doomed. She smiled. Theo saw it. “Oh, no.” Mandi looked at him. “WHAT?” “That smile.” “WHAT ABOUT IT?” “The others warned me.” The groom immediately raised both hands. “We did not.” “You absolutely did.” Mandi turned her head. “WARNED YOU ABOUT WHAT?” Theo considered. “Energy.” Mandi’s grin widened. “SMART MEN.” Elias laughed. Jonah looked increasingly suspicious. Mandi gave Theo one more kiss. Then held up a finger. “PAUSE.” He stopped. Immediately. The room stopped with him. Good men. Mandi reached for the detached leash. Then for the room terminal. The groom stared. “You’re calling her.” “I SAID I WOULD.” “That’s… weirdly reassuring.” Mandi pointed at him. “KEEP HAVING GOOD OPINIONS.” Panam answered on the second pulse. Her face appeared on the small screen. “Mandi.” “OWNER.” Panam looked at her. Then behind her at the four men. Then back. “That fast?” Mandi looked offended. “WE HAVE BEEN VERY RESPONSIBLE.” Theo nodded solemnly. “Extremely.” Panam’s eyes narrowed. Mandi held up the leash as evidence of lawful behavior. “WE NEED TO RENEGOTIATE.” Panam sighed. “Of course you do.” --- ### 11:08 PM — The New Plan Panam came to the room. Not because she distrusted Mandi. Because this was a substantial change to a professional booking and she was not going to negotiate it through a tiny wall screen while half the participants shouted over one another. She arrived still holding Sera’s and Nadia’s leashes in one hand. Nadia stood just behind her. Sera beside Nadia. Neither had any business being involved. Both had nevertheless decided this was worth seeing. Panam opened the door. Looked at the room. Then at Mandi. Mandi stood in the middle of it holding her detached leash like a student presenting evidence before a tribunal. “HI.” Panam looked at Theo. “Everything good?” “Yes.” The groom? “Very.” Elias? “Yes.” Jonah hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah.” Panam noticed the hesitation. “So you’re not sure.” Jonah looked surprised. “I—” “That wasn’t criticism.” He stopped. Panam waited. Jonah exhaled. “I’m interested. I’m just not sure I actually want to participate.” “Fine.” Mandi nodded immediately. “COMPLETELY FINE.” Jonah looked at her. She shrugged. “WATCHING IS ALREADY THE BOOKING.” Something in his shoulders loosened. Panam nodded once. Good. Then: “What changed?” Mandi turned toward the groom. “THEY’RE ALL ATTRACTIVE.” Panam closed her eyes. Nadia made a small choking noise behind her. Sera’s hair lifted. Panam reopened her eyes. “That is not a contractual category.” “SHOULD BE.” “Mandi.” “FINE.” She looked around the room. Then, more seriously: “I want the option to invite the others in. Individually. Only if they want it too.” Panam looked at Theo. “You’re still comfortable if the booking becomes a group booking?” “Yes.” The groom nodded before being asked. Elias too. Jonah lifted one hand. “I want to keep watching for now.” Mandi smiled. “PERFECT.” No disappointment. No persuasion. That mattered. Panam looked back at Mandi. “How much?” Mandi blinked. “YOU’RE ASKING ME?” “You’re the professional.” Mandi thought. Actually thought. Then looked at the men. “Two hours total from now. All four may participate if they choose. Nobody has to. No one joins without asking me first.” Panam nodded. “Price.” Mandi smiled. “Two hundred thousand total.” The groom’s eyebrows rose. Only slightly. Theo whistled. Elias looked at the groom. Jonah laughed once. Mandi waited. No bargaining. The groom looked at his friends. One by one. Then back. “Agreed.” Panam looked at Mandi. “Comfortable with three at once?” The room went very quiet. Mandi’s smile became incandescent. “Yes.” Panam held up one finger. “Maximum three actively involved with you at the same time.” Mandi opened her mouth. Panam gave her a look. Mandi closed it. Then: “YES, OWNER.” “And I mean physically sensible.” Mandi grinned. “I AM ALWAYS PHYSICALLY SENSIBLE.” Everyone stared at her. Even Sera. Mandi looked around. “FUCK ALL OF YOU.” Panam almost smiled. “Two hours. Then you’re done for at least thirty minutes.” “Owner—” “Thirty.” Mandi stopped. Checked herself. Then nodded. “Yes, Owner.” Panam turned toward the groom. “You pay the difference now.” He did. Confirmation cleared. Panam looked at Jonah. “You can change your mind either direction. Watching to participating. Participating back to watching. Nobody gives you shit for either.” Jonah nodded. “Thank you.” Panam looked at the other three. “Same for all of you.” Three nods. Then Panam looked at Mandi. “Anything else?” Mandi thought. “No.” “Sure?” “Yes.” Panam stepped close. Touched her cheek. “Good.” Mandi leaned into the hand for half a second. Then smiled. Panam turned to leave. Mandi called after her. “OWNER.” Panam looked back. Mandi lifted the detached leash. “I’LL BRING IT BACK.” Panam’s expression softened. “I know, sweetheart.” The door closed. Nadia’s voice could still be heard faintly outside. “That was incredibly professional.” Panam: “Don’t.” Sera: “I LIKED THE PRICE.” Mandi burst out laughing. --- ### 11:17 PM — Revised Terms The strangest thing about the expanded booking was how little changed at first. Theo remained closest. The groom still sat in his chair. Elias still watched. Jonah still watched. Mandi simply knew that the shape of the room could change now. That knowledge altered the atmosphere by itself. She looked at the groom. “You.” He pointed at himself. “Me?” “YOU’RE THE ONE GETTING MARRIED.” “That is generally how bachelor parties work.” “COME HERE.” He looked toward Theo. Theo immediately moved aside with a theatrical bow. “Your night.” The groom laughed. Then stood. Mandi looked up at him. Not as far up as Theo. Still up. “NAME.” “Cal.” “CAL.” “Yes?” “YOU WANT TO KISS ME?” He smiled. “Yes.” “THEN WHY ARE YOU STANDING OVER THERE?” That solved it. The kiss began tentatively. It did not stay tentative. Mandi liked Cal. Different from Theo. Less outwardly confident. More likely to wait for a sign. She gave him one. Then another. Elias watched from the sofa with an expression that became steadily less academic. Mandi noticed. When she finally stepped back from Cal, she pointed at Elias. “YOU’RE NEXT.” Elias laughed. “I haven’t agreed yet.” Mandi smiled. “CORRECT.” That stopped him. Not unpleasantly. Mandi stepped closer. “DO YOU WANT TO?” He considered. Then nodded. “Yes.” “Good.” She kissed him too. Jonah watched all three of his friends become participants. Then looked at his drink. Mandi did not ask him again. That was deliberate. If Jonah wanted something, he knew the terms. He knew the door. He knew Mandi. He could decide. For almost twenty minutes, he remained an observer. And seemed perfectly happy. --- The expanded terms changed the room, but not the right to stop. Jonah remained an observer by his own choice; Theo, Cal, and Elias were the only participants Mandi had invited so far. After Panam left, the room stayed quiet for a moment. Mandi looked at Theo, then Cal, then Elias. Jonah remained in his chair. “Water first,” she said. Theo brought it without being asked. She drank, checked herself, and set the glass aside. Then she looked at Cal. “Come here.” He did. She kissed him, then turned so her back was to the bed and drew both him and Theo with her. Elias stayed close enough to reach. Clothing was already mostly gone. Mandi ended up on her hands and knees with Theo behind her and Cal in front; she took Cal in her mouth while Theo entered her from behind, both of them careful of the pace she set. Elias’s hand rested against her lower back, not directing, simply present until she reached back and guided it where she wanted it. She came once like that, the sound muffled around Cal. They shifted. She pulled Elias onto the bed and straddled him while Theo and Cal stayed close, hands and mouths where she directed. The three of them moved with her rather than against her; whenever she paused they paused. Jonah watched from the chair, expression open, not excluded. Mandi came a second time with her forehead against Elias’s shoulder. She stayed there for a moment, breathing, then looked toward Jonah and smiled without asking anything of him. She sat up and asked for water. Theo handed her the glass without being asked a second time; Cal and Elias gave her space. Jonah remained an observer. She drank, checked herself, and smiled. “Disturbingly well trained,” Mandi said. “We had a very persuasive briefing,” Cal replied. “My owner is good,” Mandi said, and meant it. ### 11:54 PM — The Fourth Jacket Jonah was the last one still sitting. Not excluded. Not forgotten. Just undecided. Mandi had given him the most respectful thing she could give anyone in that position. Nothing. No coaxing. No repeated invitation. No audience pressure disguised as playfulness. He watched. He laughed. He commented. He handed her water once. And eventually, when the energy in the room had shifted into something warm and ridiculous and unmistakably voluntary, he stood. Mandi noticed. She did not move toward him. Jonah approached. Stopped. “Can I change my mind?” Mandi smiled. “Yes.” “Still okay?” “YES.” “Sure?” Mandi’s expression softened. “Jonah.” He looked at her. “I am extremely good at saying no.” Theo laughed. Cal nodded. Elias raised his glass. Jonah smiled. “Fair.” Mandi touched his hand. “DO YOU WANT TO JOIN?” “Yes.” “THEN YES.” Simple. He kissed her. His friends cheered. Mandi broke the kiss immediately and pointed at them. “YOU THREE ARE MAKING THIS WEIRD.” Cal looked around the room. “This is the point where it became weird?” “YES.” No one believed her. That made it better. --- ### 12:21 AM — Too Much Energy Mandi had limits. This surprised people who confused enthusiasm with infinity. Panam did not. Mandi was still enjoying herself when she felt the first real sign that the booking had reached its peak. Not pain. Not discomfort. Fatigue beginning to appear beneath the adrenaline. She noticed it because Panam had made her practice noticing it. Mandi drew back. “PAUSE.” Four men stopped. There was no hesitation now. They had learned the rule. Mandi sat on the edge of the bed. Theo handed her water without being asked. She looked at him. “YOU’VE BEEN TRAINED.” “I adapt.” “GOOD.” She drank. The groom sat on the floor nearby. Elias took the chair. Jonah leaned against the wall. For perhaps thirty seconds, nobody tried to turn the pause into entertainment. Mandi liked them for that. Then Cal said: “So, theoretically—” Mandi pointed. “CAREFUL.” He laughed. “I was going to ask whether this counts as the strangest bachelor party you’ve worked.” Mandi considered. “No.” All four stared. Theo blinked. “Really?” “NOT EVEN CLOSE.” “What beats this?” Mandi grinned. “CONFIDENTIAL.” Cal groaned. “You can’t say that.” “I JUST DID.” Jonah laughed. “Worth the two hundred grand.” Mandi looked at him. “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE INVOICE FOR THE JACKET INSULTS.” He looked down at his matching jacket. “These were Cal’s idea.” Cal pointed. “Traitor.” Mandi laughed. There it was. Energy returning. Not infinite. Enough. She stood. “ALL RIGHT.” Theo raised an eyebrow. “Again?” Mandi looked at the clock. Then at herself. Then at them. She smiled. “One last round,” Mandi said, this time without shouting. No one argued. They had learned to stop when she stopped, and she trusted them to do it again. After the water and the pause, Mandi looked at all four of them. Jonah had already stepped closer. “You still want this?” she asked him. “Yes.” She drew him down onto the bed. The other three stayed close but did not crowd; two participated at a time while the third rested or watched. She took Jonah first, on her back, legs around his waist, setting a slower pace than before because the fatigue was real even if the want was still there. He was careful. She came with a quieter sound than usual and a hand that stayed against his shoulder afterward. They shifted. Theo and Cal took turns while Elias rested against the headboard; then Elias and Jonah while Theo drank water. Mandi directed the changes with short words and gestures rather than speeches. At one point she caught her own reflection in the mirror across the room and laughed once, breathless. “I look amazing,” she said. “You do,” Cal answered, and the others made agreeing noises that turned into laughter when she pointed at them. She finished the last round on her side with Elias behind her and Jonah’s hand between her thighs, the other two watching. The orgasm was smaller, warmer, and left her smiling against the pillow. She stayed there for a minute, breathing, before she sat up and reached for the water again. By the end Mandi was thoroughly delighted, unable to resist making a joke about how none of them were allowed to tell Deja how quiet she had briefly become. It made everyone laugh again. --- ### 12:48 AM — End of Booking When the room finally settled, Cal looked like a man who had forgotten his own bachelor party was supposed to embarrass him. Instead he looked grateful. Theo looked pleased with himself. Elias looked thoughtful. Jonah looked relieved that changing his mind had not transformed the evening into something he regretted. Mandi looked exhausted. Happy. Extremely happy. But exhausted. She knew it. They knew it. Panam would know before Mandi crossed half the club. That thought made her smile. Cal noticed. “What?” “MY OWNER IS GOING TO LOOK AT ME FOR THREE SECONDS AND ORDER FOOD.” Theo laughed. “Is she usually right?” Mandi sat up. “ANNOYINGLY.” Elias handed her the detached leash. She had nearly forgotten where she set it. Nearly. Mandi took it. Her expression changed. Not dramatically. Warmly. Time to go back. She looked at the four men. “GOOD BACHELOR PARTY?” Cal nodded. “Unreasonably good.” Theo offered his hand. Mandi ignored it and hugged him. Then Cal. Then Elias. She looked at Jonah. He opened his arms first. Mandi grinned and hugged him too. “No regrets?” she asked, quieter than usual. Jonah shook his head. “No.” “GOOD.” He smiled. “Thank you for not pushing.” Mandi’s expression sharpened. “WHY WOULD I?” He shrugged. “People do.” Mandi looked at him for a moment. Then tapped his chest. “WRONG PEOPLE.” Jonah smiled. “Yeah.” Cal walked them toward the door. At the threshold, Mandi turned. “ONE RULE.” Four men waited. “IF ANY OF YOU CALL THIS ‘THE BEST NIGHT OF CAL’S LIFE’ IN FRONT OF HIS FIANCÉE, I AM DENYING EVERYTHING.” Cal laughed. “She knows where we are.” Mandi stopped. “Oh.” Theo nodded. “She helped pick the club.” Mandi stared. Then burst out laughing. “I LIKE HER TOO.” --- ### 12:56 AM — Click Panam saw Mandi before Mandi saw Panam. Of course she did. Mandi came out of the corridor carrying the detached leash in one hand. The orange hair remained impossible. The black eyes remained bright. The smile remained enormous. But her steps were slower. Not dangerously. Enough. Panam stood. Mandi saw her. The smile softened. She crossed the remaining distance and held out the leash. “OWNER.” Panam took it. Then clipped it back to the graphite collar. Click. Mandi exhaled. There. Home in the structure again. Panam immediately drew her into an embrace. Mandi melted against her. Not collapsed. Melted. Panam kissed her temple. Then her cheek. “You all right, sweetheart?” “VERY.” “Tired?” Mandi considered lying. Panam felt the consideration happen. “Mandi.” Mandi sighed. “Yes.” “Anything hurt?” “No.” “Anything I need to know?” Mandi thought. “No. They were good.” Panam looked over her shoulder toward the four men emerging from the corridor. They stopped at a respectful distance. Cal nodded. “Madame.” Panam hated how natural that had become. “Everything good?” “Yes.” Theo added: “She’s terrifying.” Mandi lifted her head from Panam’s shoulder. “COMPLIMENT.” “I meant it as one.” “GOOD.” Panam’s hand moved slowly across Mandi’s back. Checking tension. Breathing. Whether the brightness was real or adrenaline pretending. Mandi leaned closer. Real enough. Panam looked down. “Water.” Mandi opened her mouth. Panam already had the glass. Mandi stared. Then smiled. “YOU REMEMBERED.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.” Mandi took it. Drank. Cal watched the exchange. Something about his expression softened. Panam noticed. Did not comment. Mandi finished half the glass. Panam pointed toward the chair beside her. “Sit.” Mandi sat. Immediately. Theo looked impressed. Mandi caught him. “DO NOT.” “I didn’t say anything.” “YOUR FACE DID.” Panam took the glass back long enough to place a plate in Mandi’s hands. Mandi looked down. Then up. “FOOD TOO?” “Yes.” “OWNER, I CAN—” Panam looked at her. Mandi stopped. Then smiled. “Yes, Owner.” She ate. The four men thanked Panam. Then Suzy. Then Mandi again from a safe distance because Panam was visibly in aftercare mode and none of them seemed stupid enough to interrupt it. Cal paused before leaving. “Mandi?” She looked up from the food. “YEAH?” “My fiancée’s going to love you.” Mandi pointed her fork at him. “BRING HER NEXT TIME.” Panam closed her eyes. Cal laughed. “Maybe we will.” They left. Mandi watched them go. Then looked at Panam. “GOOD PEOPLE.” “Yeah.” “CAN I WORK AGAIN AFTER THIRTY?” “No.” Mandi froze. “What?” Panam touched her cheek. “You’re done until I say otherwise.” Mandi stared. “OWNER.” “You’re tired.” “I’M HAPPY.” “I know.” “I FEEL GOOD.” “I know.” “THERE ARE PEOPLE WAITING.” “I know.” Mandi opened her mouth. Stopped. Something shifted. The decision had left her hands. Exactly where she had chosen to put it. Her shoulders relaxed. She smiled. “Okay.” Panam kissed her forehead. “Good girl.” Mandi’s entire face changed. Nadia saw it. Sera saw it. Suzy saw it from halfway across the room. Mira definitely saw it. Mandi lowered her voice. “Fuck.” Panam smiled. “Eat.” “Yes, Owner.” --- ### 1:09 AM — Information Leakage Deja and Dalia returned from the bar carrying drinks. Deja saw Mandi seated beside Panam. Saw the food. Saw the leash. Saw the expression. Stopped. Dalia nearly walked into her. “What?” Deja looked at Mandi. Then at Panam. Then at the private corridor. Then back. “How many?” Mandi’s eyes widened. “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.” Deja smiled sweetly. “That many.” “FUCK OFF.” Dalia sat beside Mandi. “How was the bachelor party?” Mandi took a bite. “EXCELLENT.” Dalia looked at Panam. Panam looked back. Dalia smiled. “Four?” Panam sighed. “All four eventually.” Deja’s eyebrows rose. Mandi pointed her fork. “TRAITOR.” Panam looked at her. Mandi lowered the fork. “Sorry, Owner.” Deja took a sip of her drink. Then, very calmly: “Did you break the silence record?” Mandi stopped chewing. Dalia’s face disappeared behind both hands. Nadia choked. Sera folded over against Panam. Panam tried. She genuinely tried. Then she laughed. Mandi swallowed. Pointed at Deja. “YOU ARE A TERRIBLE PERSON.” Deja smiled. “Three minutes remains competitive, then.” Mandi rose halfway from her chair. The leash tightened by perhaps two centimeters. Panam did not pull. Mandi felt it. Stopped. Sat. Deja looked at the leash. Then at Mandi. “Oh.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “DON’T.” Deja’s smile became angelic. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” “You made a silence.” Dalia collapsed against the table laughing. --- ### 1:18 AM — Across the Floor While Mandi recovered under Panam’s supervision, another conversation had become very interesting. Celeste and Adrian had returned, just as they had said they would. Nova and Vega were sitting with them, close enough to Panam’s table for the Marlows’ leash lines to remain relaxed in their owner’s hands. The boyfriend’s name was Adrian. The girlfriend’s name was Celeste. Celeste was speaking. Adrian was listening. Nova had gone very still in the way she did when something had captured all of her attention. Vega was smiling. Not her usual sharp grin. Interested. Careful. Celeste finished explaining. Nova glanced toward Vega. Vega met her eyes. No words. They had worked together enough to have entire discussions that way. Then Nova looked at Adrian. “And you want to watch.” “Yes.” “Only watch?” “Yes.” Vega leaned forward. “Your girlfriend with both of us.” Adrian smiled. “If she still wants it after talking to you.” Celeste laughed. “I very much do.” Nova’s white-void eyes moved toward her. “Good answer.” Vega looked toward Panam. Then back at the couple. “This one needs a proper conversation with Madame.” Adrian nodded. “That’s why we asked.” Nova squeezed Celeste’s hand, then guided her toward Panam’s table. The two Marlows remained on their leash lines, their owner waiting for them to finish a conversation with Mandi. Panam was still feeding her orange-haired pet. Mandi was still arguing with Deja. Sera and Nadia were still laughing. Dalia had stolen half of Mandi’s water. Lisa was watching the returning corpo at the bar. Mira and Della were both exactly where they wanted to be. Across the room, Suzy caught the movement and checked that Room Four was available. She left the customer conversation where it belonged: with Panam. Saturday was barely past one in the morning. It was not close to finished. --- ## Chapter 9 — The Other Side *Sunday, November 3, 2077 — 1:21 AM* *Lizzie’s Bar* The first thing Panam noticed about Celeste was that she kept answering questions before Adrian could. The second was that Adrian seemed perfectly pleased about it. That was a promising start. The couple sat opposite Madame’s table. Celeste had an easy laugh, a dark-blue jacket folded across the back of her chair, and the sort of confidence that came from knowing what she wanted without needing a roomful of strangers to approve of it. Adrian was quieter. He watched her with an affectionate half-smile and intervened only when she turned to him. On Panam’s side of the table were five women wearing five collars. Sera, with her white hair glowing beneath the lights. Nadia, amused by everything and troubled by almost nothing. Mandi, who had finally remembered how to speak at a volume that did not require structural reinforcement. And the Marlows. Nova’s chrome-and-gold hair framed white-void eyes and an expression of studied composure. Vega’s chrome-and-brass styling mirrored hers without making them look alike; the black-void eyes gave her grin a particularly wicked edge. Both were leashed. Both lines led to Panam. Neither was merely visiting the table to ask for work. That distinction was so thoroughly ordinary to Panam now that she barely thought about it. She kept the lines comfortably loose while Nova and Vega leaned forward to hear Celeste. When someone needed to shift chairs or reach for a drink, the leash moved with her. Nothing theatrical. Nothing that needed explaining. Vega glanced at Adrian. “So you want to watch.” “Yes.” “While Celeste spends time with both of us.” “Yes.” “And you’re not expecting to join in halfway through because you got carried away?” “No.” “Good. We have enough people getting carried away tonight.” Mandi raised a hand without looking up from her plate. “I feel accused.” “You should,” Vega said. Panam touched Mandi’s shoulder. “Eat.” “Yes, Owner.” Quietly. Vega stared at her. “Christ. It’s a miracle.” Mandi gave her the finger, also quietly. Panam turned back to the couple. “Tell me what you're asking for. In your own words. Both of you.” Celeste leaned forward. “I want to spend the booking with Nova and Vega together. I'm attracted to both of them. That's my choice, not something Adrian talked me into.” “Good,” Panam said. Adrian glanced at Celeste, then answered when Panam looked at him. “I love watching her have a good time. It doesn't need to involve me. Actually, I think I'd rather it didn't.” Vega's eyebrows rose. “Rather?” Adrian laughed. “I know how that sounds.” “No, I like it. You know exactly what kind of evening you want.” Celeste grinned at him. “We did rehearse.” Nova folded her hands. “Then let me ask the question nobody rehearses. What happens if one of us changes her mind?” “We stop,” Celeste answered. “And if you change yours?” “Same.” “And if Adrian discovers he doesn't enjoy watching after all?” Adrian nodded. “I step out. No fuss.” Vega looked at Nova. Nova looked back. It was a small exchange, almost invisible. Panam saw it anyway. She waited. Nova smiled at Celeste. “I'm interested.” “Me too,” Vega said. “Especially after that answer.” Panam took the decision from there, exactly as she was supposed to. --- ### 1:29 AM — A Booking, Not a Guess “Ninety minutes,” Panam said. “Both Marlows, with Celeste as the client. Adrian observes, nothing more. No recording. If anybody wants to change those terms, the booking stops while we talk.” Adrian nodded. Celeste nodded. Panam turned to Nova. “You want this, sweetheart?” “Yes, Owner.” Then Vega. “And you?” Vega gave Celeste an appreciative look before answering. “Very much, Owner.” Only then did Panam discuss the fee. “Sixty thousand eddies for this ninety-minute pair booking. That's for tonight. It doesn't establish a standing pair rate.” Celeste tipped her head toward Adrian. “Thirty each?” He smiled. “You insisted.” “I did.” Panam checked the two payments on her own agent. Both cleared. Room Four showed available in the club's operations system; there was no need for Suzy to take over a transaction that belonged to Madame. “Good,” Panam said, and put the agent away. Nova and Vega rose together. The movement gently shifted the two lines in her hand. Panam lifted her gaze. “Pets. Come here.” Nova stepped close first, settling beside her owner. Panam touched her jaw, studying the face under the white-void contacts: the little spark of anticipation, the calm beneath it. “You're comfortable?” “Completely.” Panam kissed her cheek and reached for the clip at her collar. *Click.* She laid the detached leash in Nova's hand. Vega was waiting, looking unusually patient. Panam narrowed her eyes. “What?” “Nothing.” “That expression is expensive.” “I thought my rates were already established.” Panam snorted, then drew her closer. “And you? Still want to go?” “Yes, Owner.” Panam kissed Vega's forehead. *Click.* The second leash came free. Vega accepted it with a smile that softened at the edges. “Bring them back to me,” Panam said. “We will,” Nova replied. “And don't let the clock decide whether you're comfortable. You're both allowed to call it early.” Vega's teasing expression returned. “Owner, you do realize we're experienced at this?” “Yes. And you've never let experience prevent either of you from doing something wonderfully stupid.” “That is deeply unfair.” Mandi looked up from her plate. “Accurate, though.” Every head turned. Mandi blinked. “What?” Nadia smiled. “Still using your indoor voice. I'm impressed.” Mandi sighed. “I cannot win tonight.” Panam pulled her remaining leashes gently into order. “Go, you two.” Nova and Vega each thanked their owner with a brief touch before turning to Celeste and Adrian. The four of them headed for the private corridor. Nadia watched them leave. “That's going to be interesting.” Panam smiled into her coffee. “That's why I said yes.” --- ### 1:41 AM — The Guest Who Knows What She Wants Room Four had a wide sofa, an upholstered chair positioned away from the main seating area, and a low table with water already waiting. The sound from the club came through as a faint pulse rather than a command to dance. Adrian chose the chair without being told. Vega noticed. “Look at that. A man who actually listened to the terms.” “Should I request a medal?” Adrian asked. “Not from me. I'm charging extra for compliments.” Celeste laughed and set down her jacket. Nova placed her folded leash neatly on the side table. Vega placed hers beside it: separate, within reach, neither forgotten. Celeste noticed the gesture. “Those matter to you.” “Yes,” Nova said simply. Vega sat on the sofa's arm. “Not a party trick, if that's what you're asking.” “I wasn't.” “Good.” Vega smiled. “You continue to pass the tests.” Nova gave her a look. “We are not administering tests.” “You are. You just don't announce them.” Celeste laughed again, then held out her hand to Nova. “I'd like to kiss you.” Nova took it. “Then I think we should start there.” There was a quiet confidence in the first kiss, but not the certainty of people who already knew one another. Celeste tilted her head, felt Nova answer, then smiled as they drew apart. “Okay.” Nova's white eyes seemed almost luminous at this distance. “Good okay?” “Extremely good.” Vega leaned forward. “And am I merely decorative?” Celeste turned toward her. “You could come find out.” “Oh, I like this one.” Vega met her halfway. Her kiss was different: amused, a little more daring, and accompanied by the sort of half-smile that made Celeste laugh against her mouth. Nova watched them. From the chair, Adrian watched Celeste. The two forms of attention met in the middle of the room without competing. Vega drew back. “Still happy?” Celeste nodded. Then looked at Adrian. He smiled. “More than.” That was all Celeste needed. She turned back to Nova and Vega with a look of delighted concentration. “All right. I think I'm ready to stop talking about it.” Vega raised an eyebrow. “An admirable proposal.” Nova stood and offered Celeste her hand. “Come sit with us.” --- ### 1:55 AM — The Other Side of the Mirror The intimacy of the room came from how little anyone needed to demonstrate. Celeste moved between Nova and Vega on the sofa, learning their differences by touch, by laughter, by how each answered a kiss. They took their time. A question could interrupt a moment without destroying it; a joke could make them all laugh without making anything less sincere. Clothing came away in stages. Both Marlows kept their collars; the detached leashes stayed separate on the side table. Adrian remained in the chair. Vega brushed an escaped strand of hair from Celeste's face. “Adrian looks remarkably pleased with himself.” Celeste glanced over. “He usually does.” “Unfair slander,” Adrian said. “You came here to watch your girlfriend with two beautiful women,” Celeste replied. “You don't get to claim modesty now.” Adrian lifted both hands. “Guilty.” Nova laughed softly. Something in Adrian's expression caught her attention. It was not the hungry impatience she'd sometimes seen in clients. It was affection made visible by a lack of fear: his happiness did not require Celeste to look back every few seconds and reassure him. Nova knew that look. So did Vega. They caught one another's eyes across Celeste's shoulder. A private flash of recognition. For so long, their professional observer arrangements had put one Marlow at the center of a room and the other somewhere nearby, enjoying the sight of her partner choosing freely. Tonight neither Marlow was the observer. They were the ones being watched while they gave their attention to someone else. And Adrian, instead of resenting his place, seemed to cherish it. Vega's grin changed for a second. Nova noticed. Celeste noticed too. “What was that?” Vega smiled. “A professional revelation.” “That sounds suspiciously grand.” “It was either that or a dirty joke, and Nova says I have to ration those.” “I said you could *try*,” Nova replied. Adrian burst out laughing. Celeste turned back toward them. “I think I like you both even more than I expected.” Nova's voice softened. “That's mutual.” Vega touched Celeste's hand. “And it doesn't mean you have to keep up with us. You set your pace.” Celeste squeezed her fingers. “I know.” The assurance was not a pause in the evening. It was part of what let the evening become theirs. They continued without hurry. Nova’s mouth and hands were precise; Vega’s were warmer and more likely to draw a laugh even in the middle of something else. Celeste came once between them with her head tipped back against Nova’s shoulder, Vega’s fingers working in counterpoint to Nova’s mouth. They stayed close through it, then shifted so Celeste could return the attention with her own hands and mouth, learning what each of them liked. Adrian watched from the chair, smiling when Celeste caught his eye. ### 2:12 AM — A Different Kind of Audience Celeste had been the one to ask for both Marlows, but she had not expected to enjoy simply listening to them quite so much. They were terrible to each other. Affectionately terrible. Nova could dismantle one of Vega's ridiculous claims with three dry words. Vega could make Nova's composure crack with a single raised eyebrow. Neither pushed when the other became quiet; neither needed to fill every silence. “You've known each other forever,” Celeste observed. “Long enough to regret it occasionally,” Vega said. “Frequently,” Nova corrected. Celeste laughed. In public, the Marlows were professional partners, not family and not publicly a couple. They had never needed a false story about being sisters or an elaborate invented history. Working together explained their familiarity well enough. Celeste looked at Adrian. “You might want to take notes.” “On what?” “How to be this rude and still adorable.” Adrian thought about that. “I've spent years studying you.” “Then you should be better at it.” Vega folded against Nova's shoulder, laughing. Nova, who had intended to remain dignified, failed shortly afterward. When the laughter settled, Celeste reached for them both again. The room turned warm and quiet, affection passing between three people who had agreed to be there and found that agreement easy to renew. Sometimes Adrian watched from his chair. Sometimes Celeste caught his eye and smiled. At one point she asked him to bring water, and he did so without turning the errand into an excuse to join the encounter. “Thank you,” Celeste told him. He kissed her forehead after she invited him closer. “You're welcome.” Vega watched them with unusual stillness. Adrian returned to his chair. Nova moved beside her. “Different, isn't it?” she murmured. Vega understood immediately. “From this side? Yeah.” “Good different?” Vega looked at Celeste, who was smiling down into her water, and then at Adrian, who had never stopped looking like a man glad to be exactly where he was. “Very.” Nova nodded. There was no need to say anything about Brenda or Iris. No need to reveal a marriage that was nobody else's business. Whatever the two women recognized here, they could carry it home without letting their covers slip. Celeste set down the glass. “You two are making your mysterious faces again.” Vega raised an eyebrow. “We have mysterious faces?” Nova tilted her head. “Apparently.” “They're lovely,” Celeste said. “But I was hoping you'd come back over here.” Nova smiled. “Much clearer request.” They did. Nobody asked the clock for instructions. Nobody treated the agreed fee as a reason to rush. When Celeste finally sank back between them, smiling and beautifully exhausted, Adrian's expression said everything he had hoped to say all evening. --- ### 2:47 AM — Worth It “Okay,” Celeste said, and looked at the ceiling. Vega turned her head. “That an official review?” “I'll write something more sophisticated when my brain comes back.” Nova handed her water. “Take your time.” Adrian moved to the edge of his chair, waiting until Celeste looked at him. “May I?” “Please.” He came over and sat beside her. Celeste kissed him, then rested her forehead against his. “Happy?” he asked. “Ridiculously.” “Good.” Vega looked toward Nova. She knew that particular answer was going to stay with her. Celeste released Adrian's hand long enough to reach for the Marlows. “Would you see us again?” Nova didn't answer for Vega. “Yes,” she said for herself. “I'd be interested.” Vega smiled. “Me too. But you know how to ask.” “Madame,” Celeste said. “Exactly.” Adrian laughed. “I had a feeling that was going to be the answer.” They got dressed without rushing, passing the remaining minutes in the kind of loose, friendly conversation that made an encounter feel more complete rather than less important. Nova checked the time. “Let's get you back to the bar.” Vega collected her folded leash. Nova collected hers. They did not attach them. That was Panam's moment, not theirs. --- ### 2:58 AM — Two Clicks Panam saw them emerge from the corridor. Celeste and Adrian walked together, still smiling. Nova and Vega followed, each carrying a folded leash in her own hand. Panam stood before either pet reached the table. Nova came first. “Owner.” She offered the leash. Panam accepted it and fastened it back to Nova's collar. *Click.* Nova's expression softened at once. Panam drew her close, kissed her cheek, and let the embrace last long enough to feel whether she was leaning into it or simply tolerating it. She was leaning in. “How are you, sweetheart? Not the booking. You.” “Good. A little tired, but good.” “Anything uncomfortable?” “No. Nothing.” Panam touched the side of her face. “Sit with me in a minute. Water first.” Nova smiled. “Yes, Owner.” Vega waited with an expression that would have looked impatient on anybody who did not know her. Panam knew her. “Come here, trouble.” Vega stepped in, offered her leash, and lifted her chin for the clip. *Click.* Panam's hand lingered at her collar before she kissed Vega's forehead. “You all right?” Vega's first answer was a grin. Panam waited. Vega let the grin soften. “Yes. Really.” “Need a quiet minute?” “Actually, yes.” “Then you get one.” Panam brought her close too, one arm around her shoulders, giving both returning pets room instead of demanding a public account of what had happened upstairs. Celeste watched the reunion with a smile that held no surprise. She had seen the care at the beginning of the booking. Now she saw where it led. “Thank you,” she told Panam. Panam looked at her. “Everybody treated you well?” “Very.” Adrian nodded. “Exceptionally.” Vega laughed. “Careful. She'll raise the price.” Panam gave her a look. “Don't tempt me.” Celeste thanked Nova and Vega individually. Adrian did the same. Then the couple disappeared toward the main floor, still talking in low voices and bumping shoulders as they walked. Only once they were gone did Panam turn her full attention back to her pets. Two glasses of water were already waiting. She passed one to Nova and one to Vega. Nova drank immediately. Vega held hers for a moment, looking around the table. “Where's the rest of the circus?” “Mandi's eating,” Nadia said. “Sera is negotiating with a bowl of noodles. Deja and Dalia have developed an argument about who has the worse influence on whom.” “Obviously Dalia,” Vega said. “Obviously Deja,” Nova replied. They looked at each other. Panam sighed. “Drink your water before you start a new war.” Both drank. Sera leaned around Nadia's shoulder and smiled at them. “WELCOME BACK!” Mandi looked up. “At least somebody else is doing it now.” A beat. Vega stared. “That was your indoor voice again.” “I'm considering keeping it.” Panam raised an eyebrow. Mandi looked at her. “What?” “Nothing, sweetheart.” “That's a suspicious nothing.” Nadia started laughing. Panam settled Nova on one side of her and Vega on the other, their leash lines loose and comfortable. Nova accepted a small plate when she admitted she was hungry. Vega preferred to lean against Panam for a minute before eating anything; Panam let her. It was not a ceremony. It was care. For people who had chosen her to provide it. Nova watched Adrian and Celeste through the moving crowd until they vanished from view. “Different from the usual observer arrangement,” she said quietly. Vega nodded. “Good different.” Panam stroked Vega's hair once, careful of the ChromeLock styling. “You two want to tell me something about it?” Nova considered. “Not tonight.” Vega smiled into her owner's shoulder. “Maybe over breakfast.” Panam nodded. “Breakfast it is.” Neither woman was sent back out onto the floor. Neither woman asked to be. For a few minutes, all five of Madame's pets were exactly where they wanted to be. --- ### 3:11 AM — A Civilized Attempt Lisa had spotted Julian Voss well before he stood up. That was the advantage of dealing with a man who had already been escorted out once: you didn't need to guess which mistakes he was capable of repeating. Tonight he had behaved. He'd ordered drinks politely. He'd tipped the bartender. He'd refrained from suggesting that several million eddies entitled him to anybody's attention. Lisa had almost begun to respect the effort. Almost. Now he set down his glass, straightened his jacket, and approached Madame's table. He stopped a reasonable distance away. “Madame Panam?” Panam looked up. “Yes?” “May I ask you something?” “You just did.” From beside her, Vega made a small choking sound. Julian smiled politely. “May I ask about availability?” “Whose?” “Sera and Nadia.” Panam's expression cooled into business. “Then you know the terms for speaking to either artist.” “Five million each. For a conversation. No guarantees.” “Correct.” He nodded. No grand speech. No ridiculous offer. No entitlement. Nadia raised an interested eyebrow. Sera watched him with open curiosity. Lisa, observing from the edge of the room, relaxed one shoulder. Perhaps the man had actually learned. Julian took another breath. “Wonderful. Then perhaps, given that I would be paying ten million merely for the opportunity to speak, we could establish a slightly more efficient—” Panam closed her eyes. Nadia began to smile. Mandi put down her fork. Lisa straightened her shoulders again. Julian continued, unaware that he had just stepped into familiar territory. “—process for the subsequent arrangements, assuming the artists are sufficiently impressed by the scale of my—” “Julian,” Panam said. He stopped. “Yes?” “You were doing so well.” From her place against Panam's shoulder, Vega whispered: “Oh, he's going to need Lisa again.” Nova, perfectly composed, murmured back: “Give him another twenty seconds.” Nadia laughed into her drink. And Lizzie's Saturday night, which had already become Sunday morning, found one more reason not to end quietly. --- ## Chapter 10 — The Price of Almost *Sunday, November 3, 2077 — 3:11 AM* *Lizzie’s Bar* Julian Voss had made it thirty seconds. That was longer than most people at Madame Panam’s table had expected. Lisa, who had spent the better part of two nights developing a professional interest in the man’s capacity for self-sabotage, considered thirty seconds a genuine accomplishment. Unfortunately, Julian was now talking about efficiency. “—and naturally,” he continued, “I wouldn’t presume to dictate the artists’ decisions. I simply believe we could establish the parameters of any subsequent arrangement in advance, should they find me agreeable.” Panam looked at him. Nadia looked at him. Sera tipped her head slightly, white hair shifting against the light. Mandi put down her fork. That last action worried Panam more than the first three. “Julian,” Panam said, “what exactly are you trying to arrange?” “A more streamlined process.” “For what?” “For the next stage, should we reach it.” “There is no next stage until one of them wants one.” “Of course.” “And the five million buys a conversation. One artist. No more.” “I understand.” “Then you understand there’s nothing to streamline.” Julian hesitated. He had clearly arrived with a prepared argument. Panam had reached the end of it before he reached the middle. “Madame, with respect—” Vega made a soft, unhappy noise. Nova looked at her. “Too early?” she murmured. “Terribly.” Julian continued. “—I’m offering to demonstrate serious intent. I don’t wish to waste anyone’s time.” Nadia smiled. “Then perhaps you could start by not wasting it.” He looked at her. For an instant, a pleasant surprise crossed his face. One of the artists was speaking directly to him. It was the wrong surprise. “You see,” he said, “that’s precisely the kind of forthrightness I admire.” Nadia’s smile did not move. “Forthrightness is easier when someone listens.” Panam rested a hand on Nadia’s knee. Not a warning. A warm acknowledgment: *I heard her too.* Julian spread his hands. “I am listening.” “Splendid,” Nadia said. “Then you can repeat what I just told you.” Silence. Mandi began to grin. Julian blinked. “I beg your pardon?” “Just the last sentence.” “You said—” He stopped. Nadia waited. Sera’s mouth twitched. Vega slowly lowered her glass. Julian had handled armed negotiators, corporate auditors, and people who could order a security detail into existence with one whispered instruction. Evidently none of them had ever asked him to listen to a woman without simultaneously preparing his reply. Nadia let him off the hook. “I said forthrightness is easier when someone listens.” “Ah.” “Yes,” Nadia said. “Ah.” --- ### 3:14 AM — The Boardroom Problem Panam could have ended the conversation there. She probably should have. But Julian was still standing at a respectful distance, had not raised his voice, and seemed genuinely convinced he was attempting something reasonable. She gave him one more chance. “Tell me your understanding of the offer.” Julian straightened. “Five million eddies for a private conversation with either Sera or Nadia, provided that the artist agrees to speak with me. Nothing beyond that conversation is promised.” “Correct.” “Any further proposal is separate, substantial, and subject to the artist’s wishes.” “Correct.” “The artist may decline.” “Yes.” “Even if I offer considerably more.” “Especially if you start behaving as though that changes the answer.” Julian nodded. “There. We agree.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you still talking?” “Because I’ve prepared a presentation.” A small, stunned silence settled over the table. Then Deja, who had arrived beside Dalia at the edge of the gathering, whispered: “Oh, no.” Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. “Oh, *yes*.” Julian’s gaze shifted toward them, hopeful at the sound of apparent support. He did not know these women. He had no idea how little support he had just received. “A presentation?” Panam repeated. “A concise one. Three minutes.” Mandi looked at the clock. Her black eyes widened with recognition. “Three minutes?” she asked in her perfectly ordinary indoor voice. Julian brightened. “Precisely.” Dalia began laughing before anyone else understood why. Deja closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck.” Mandi folded her hands with exaggerated politeness. “Julian, sweetheart, do you know what happened last night when somebody asked me for three minutes?” “No.” “Twelve thousand eddies.” He looked confused. “For what?” “Silence.” “Whose?” “Mine.” Julian stared. Vega pressed her lips together. Nova covered the lower half of her face with her water glass. Sera’s white hair lifted into a little halo of delight. Nadia leaned comfortably against Panam’s shoulder and waited for the inevitable. Julian looked at Mandi again. “Twelve thousand for three minutes of silence?” “Yes.” He considered that. Then said, perfectly seriously: “That seems poor value.” Mandi’s expression changed. Not anger. Awe. “He thinks three minutes of my silence is poor value.” Dalia wheezed. Deja gripped her arm. “Don’t encourage her.” Panam put down her coffee. “Sweetheart.” Mandi turned toward her owner immediately. “Yes?” “Let me handle him.” Mandi’s smile softened. “Yes, Owner.” And fell silent. Lisa, watching from the security rail, made a private mental note that the universe had apparently developed a sense of humor. --- ### 3:18 AM — Three Slides Too Many Julian produced a slim presentation shard. Panam stared at it. Nadia stared at it. Sera stared at it. Lisa began walking toward the table. Julian held the shard between two fingers, careful not to activate it without permission. “I’ve condensed the material,” he said. “The first version was twenty-two slides.” Vega made a noise like an engine failing to turn over. Nova murmured, “He condensed it.” “Heroically,” Vega whispered back. Panam looked at the shard. “Put that away.” Julian hesitated. “But you haven’t—” “Put. It. Away.” The shard disappeared into his jacket. Lisa reached the table without appearing to hurry. “Evening, Mr. Voss.” Julian turned. “Oh. Hello again.” “Morning, technically,” Lisa said. He checked the time. “Quite right.” Lisa smiled politely. “That’s twice tonight you’ve been right about something.” “Twice?” “You said hello properly at the door.” Dalia bent over laughing. Julian looked from her to Lisa, uncertain whether there had been a compliment somewhere in the exchange. Panam leaned back. “Julian, this is the second night you’ve tried to turn a conversation with my artists into a purchase order.” “I haven’t tried to purchase anyone.” “I didn’t say you had. I said you keep trying to turn a conversation into a purchase order.” He frowned. “I fail to see the distinction.” “That,” Nadia said, “is the problem.” Julian turned toward her again. Nadia met his gaze calmly. “I don’t need to hear how efficiently you can organize an encounter. I need to have some interest in *you*. And right now you seem much more interested in the transaction than in the people involved.” Julian opened his mouth. Then closed it. For one promising second, Panam thought he might actually hear her. Sera spoke before he could spoil it. “You haven’t asked either of us what we like.” Julian looked at her. The attention nearly undid him. “You’re quite right,” he said. “What do you like?” Sera smiled. “Painting. Quiet mornings. My friends. People who notice what other people say.” Nadia touched her hand. “And I like surprises. Good conversation. People who can laugh at themselves.” Julian absorbed this information with the focused expression of a man trying to turn it into four bullet points. “I see,” he said. “So if I were to commission a private gallery event, perhaps featuring—” Nadia closed her eyes. Sera’s halo rose another inch. Panam rubbed her forehead. Lisa very quietly said: “Mr. Voss.” Julian stopped. Lisa gestured toward the exit. “Walk with me.” --- ### 3:22 AM — An Appeal to Procedure “I haven’t broken a rule,” Julian said. Lisa remained pleasant. “Not yet.” “Then why are you asking me to leave?” “Because Madame has ended the conversation.” “I don’t recall her saying those exact words.” Panam looked up. “Conversation over.” Lisa smiled. “There. Now you do.” Julian stared at her. He had met corporate attorneys with less ruthless timing. “Madame, surely we can reach some accommodation.” “No.” “I’m willing to pay for—” “No.” “I haven’t even made an offer.” “That’s one of the best things about this conversation.” The table dissolved. Mandi put her head down against her folded arms, laughing silently. Dalia leaned on Deja. Vega caught Nova’s wrist and buried her smile behind it. Sera’s white hair made a spectacular attempt to become a weather system. Nadia laughed, then leaned up and kissed Panam’s cheek. “Owner,” she murmured, “you’re magnificent.” Panam, who was trying very hard not to smile, failed. “Don’t encourage me.” Julian watched all of this with the dawning expression of a man who had begun to suspect that he was the only participant in a meeting nobody had scheduled. “Am I missing something?” “Several things,” Deja said gently. Dalia nodded. “Dozens.” “Most of them social,” Vega added. Nova looked at Julian. “You should leave while the answer is still polite.” That stopped him. Nova’s voice had remained composed throughout the exchange. Now it carried the kind of clear, practical warning that did not need volume. Julian looked toward Lisa. Two Moxes were waiting well back from the table, where their presence would be noticed only if someone decided to make it necessary. He adjusted his jacket. “I see.” Lisa nodded. “Excellent. This way.” Julian took one step. Stopped. Looked back at Panam. “I genuinely thought I’d done better tonight.” That landed differently. The laughter subsided. Panam regarded him for a moment. “You did.” His expression brightened. “Then—” “And then you stopped listening.” He fell silent. She continued, not unkindly. “You behaved like a guest. You respected the bar. You asked to speak to me. All good. Then you brought a presentation to explain what these women ought to want.” “That wasn’t my intention.” “Maybe not. It was what you did.” Julian looked at Sera. Then Nadia. Neither woman offered him the reassurance he was plainly hoping for. They were not cruel about it. They simply let the truth stand. For the first time that night, he did not argue. “Right,” he said quietly. Lisa waited. Then offered her arm toward the exit. “Come on, Mr. Voss. No need for a spectacle.” Julian nodded. And walked. Three steps later, he ruined the dignity of his departure by asking: “Would it be inappropriate to leave a business card?” Lisa did not break stride. “Yes.” “Oh.” “Very.” He put the card away. --- ### 3:28 AM — Lisa’s Second Escort The front doors were still busy enough to make a discreet exit possible. Lisa had chosen that route deliberately. Two Moxes accompanied them at a distance. They did not need to touch Julian. He was walking willingly, and that was preferable for everyone involved. At the vestibule, Julian stopped beside the security station. Lisa stopped with him. “Here we are.” “I know where the door is.” “Good. Another correct answer.” Julian gave her a tired look. “Do you enjoy this?” “Not the paperwork.” He almost smiled. “I'm sorry.” “To whom?” “Madame. The artists. Your staff.” Lisa studied him. “Better.” “May I come back?” “Not tonight.” “I meant another night.” “That depends on whether you’re willing to be a guest instead of an acquisition department.” He sighed. “I’m not an acquisition department.” Lisa looked at him. He sighed again. “Fine. I manage one.” “There we go.” Julian glanced back through the glass toward the main floor. For once, he did not look for Sera or Nadia. He watched a laughing group of friends pass between the bar and the dance floor, utterly unaware of him. “What would you have done?” he asked Lisa. She considered. “Had a drink.” “I did.” “Listened to some music.” “I did that too.” “Then gone home while I still thought you were making progress.” Julian looked genuinely pained. “So close.” Lisa smiled. “So close.” She opened the exterior door. “Good night, Mr. Voss.” He stepped outside. Then turned back. “Could you at least tell Madame I meant well?” Lisa held his gaze. “I’ll tell her you left without arguing at the door.” Julian considered that. Then, to his credit, nodded. “Fair.” Lisa closed the door. One of the Moxes beside her said: “That's two.” Lisa looked toward the security camera. “I'm aware.” “Think he'll make it a third?” “I’m putting a three-minute timer on the entrance next time.” The Mox laughed. Lisa allowed herself a smile. Then returned to work. --- ### 3:36 AM — The Price of Almost Panam was halfway through a fresh coffee when Lisa returned. No one at the table needed to ask how it had gone. Lisa was still wearing the expression she reserved for people who had made her repeat a rule in words short enough to qualify as a children’s picture book. “Gone?” Panam asked. “Gone.” “Polite?” “Painfully.” “Did he try to tip you?” Lisa paused. “No.” Panam raised an eyebrow. “Progress.” “Don't tempt fate.” Mandi pushed her plate away, leaning comfortably into the loose leash in Panam’s hand. “Can we have a scoreboard?” she asked. “No,” Panam replied. “Just a little one.” “No.” “Julian Voss versus Listening. Two attempts, zero victories.” Vega laughed. Deja raised a finger. “One partial victory tonight.” Mandi considered. “Fine. Half a point.” Dalia leaned forward. “For entering through the door?” “Exactly.” Sera smiled. “HE WAS NICE TO THE BARTENDER.” Mandi pointed at her. “Another half.” Nadia sighed in mock solemnity. “A full point. Congratulations to him.” Lisa folded her arms. “You people are making my job worse.” “You love us,” Vega said. “Professionally,” Lisa answered. “Of course,” Nova murmured. The table laughed. Then Panam’s expression softened and she looked to Sera and Nadia. “Either of you bothered by him?” Sera considered. “Not frightened. Just tired of explaining.” Nadia nodded. “He didn't hear the distinction between being willing to speak and being interested in him.” “Yeah,” Panam said. “And next time?” Nadia asked. “Your decision whether you even want the conversation.” Nadia smiled. “Good.” Sera leaned close to Panam, and Panam kissed the top of her head. No lecture. No grand declaration. Just the answer, and the care beneath it. Lisa watched that exchange. Then looked toward Mandi. “Still quiet?” Mandi stared at her. “I’m right here.” Lisa nodded slowly. “Terrifying.” Dalia laughed hard enough to lose her lollipop. --- ### 3:49 AM — The Ones Who Came Back Mira and Della were still at Lizzie’s. They had been there long enough to outlast several booking inquiries, one ill-advised attempt to make a presentation, and a number of suspiciously elaborate drink orders. Mira found Mandi sitting on one of the cushioned benches near Panam’s table. “Hey.” Mandi looked up. “Hey.” Mira stopped. “Oh, wow.” “Not you too.” “What?” “The voice.” “I wasn't going to say anything.” “You made a face.” “It's a good face.” Mandi smiled. Mira sat beside her, careful of the leash between Mandi and Panam. For a minute they watched the dance floor together. Then Mira said: “Thanks for last night.” Mandi glanced over. “For what?” “Making us feel like we belonged here.” Mandi’s expression changed. Not into anything sentimental enough to embarrass her. Something simpler. “You did belong here.” Mira smiled. “I know that now.” Mandi bumped her shoulder gently. “Good.” At the other end of Madame’s table, Della was talking to Nova and Vega. The three were laughing quietly; whatever Della had said had made Vega cover her mouth and Nova lower her head toward her drink. Both Marlows remained close enough to their owner that their leashes still hung in loose, comfortable curves. Mira followed Mandi’s gaze. “She likes them.” “Obviously.” “I like you.” Mandi smiled. “Obviously.” Mira laughed. “There's the ego.” “Never went anywhere.” Mira looked over toward Panam. “Can I ask you something?” Mandi's expression stayed warm. “Sure.” “That collar. The leash. Is it actually what you want?” Mandi glanced toward her owner. Panam was speaking with Suzy about the next shift change, listening with the same focused attention she had given Julian when he had still been salvageable. Mandi looked back at Mira. “Yeah.” “Really?” “Really.” Mira considered. “You could do all this without it.” “Of course I could.” “So why?” Mandi thought for a moment. “Because I like choosing someone I trust to look after the part of me that forgets to stop.” Mira's eyes softened. Mandi continued, with a wry smile: “And because somebody needs to tell me to drink water before I turn into a small orange disaster.” Mira laughed. “I thought you already were one.” “Oh, absolutely.” They sat together for a little longer. No booking. No expectation. Just company. Mandi found that she liked it. A surprising number of things had become easier since Panam started holding her leash. Not because Mandi had become quieter. The room still knew better. Because sometimes she no longer needed to fill every silence herself. --- ### 4:04 AM — Last Light at Lizzie’s The crowd was beginning to thin. Not enough to make the place quiet. Just enough for Lisa to stop looking at the entrance every seven seconds. Suzy reviewed the last of the night's notes at the booking station, then came over to Panam’s table for a short operations check: room availability for anyone still working, staff handovers, and which private suites needed cleaning before the morning shift. The Stable’s bookings remained Panam’s business. Suzy knew that. Panam knew Suzy knew that. Nobody needed to discuss it. Dalia and Deja were still together at the edge of the bar, engaged in an argument that had progressed from teasing into an elaborate theory about whether a leash made Deja more obedient or merely more inventive. Deja was winning on points. Dalia was winning on volume. Along the table, Nova and Vega had settled with Sera and Nadia while Panam attended to the operational details. All five leash lines remained attached, comfortably loose, their handles resting in Panam’s hands. Mandi was drinking water without being told to do it again. This, Panam thought when she looked over, was probably the most improbable sight of the entire weekend. Suzy headed back to her station. Panam turned her attention fully to her pets. Five pairs of eyes found her immediately. Mandi raised her glass. “I've been drinking.” “I can see that.” “Voluntarily.” Panam smiled. “Do you want applause?” “Little bit.” Vega clapped twice. Nova joined her. Sera made a noise like a tiny trumpet. Nadia applauded with theatrical solemnity. Panam shook her head. “Unbelievable.” Mandi took another drink. “Thank you.” Then Nova leaned toward Panam. “Owner?” “Yeah, sweetheart?” “Are we finished for the night?” Panam looked over the table. At Sera, who was trying not to yawn. At Nadia, who was catching the yawn. At Vega, tucked comfortably against Nova's shoulder. At Mandi, who was doing her best imitation of somebody with unlimited stamina. And at Nova, who had asked because she trusted Panam to notice the answer they all already knew. “Yes,” Panam said. “We're done.” Nobody protested. Not even Mandi. That, Panam decided, was worth more than Julian Voss's entire presentation. Outside, Night City continued being Night City. Inside, five women sat close to the person who had promised to look after them, surrounded by friends, empty glasses, and the pleasant exhaustion of a Saturday night that had long since become Sunday morning. And somewhere beyond Lizzie’s armored doors, Julian Voss was probably still wondering which slide had ruined everything. --- ## Chapter 11 — Five in the Morning *Sunday, November 3, 2077 — 4:42 AM* *Lizzie’s Bar, Watson* At four forty-two in the morning, Suzy Q discovered a problem with her club. The problem was not the security. Lisa had the security under control. The problem was not the guests. The last genuinely troublesome guest had been escorted out with such magnificent professionalism that half the bar had applauded without knowing why. It was not the music, the private rooms, the payments, the cleaning schedules, or the very unfortunate state of the coffee machine. It was Mandi. Specifically, Mandi was watching her. From across the room. Quietly. Suzy looked up from the overnight handover notes and found those impossible black eyes fixed on her above the rim of a water glass. Mandi smiled. Suzy looked down again. Counted to five. Looked up. Still watching. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered. Lisa appeared beside her. “What?” “Nothing.” Lisa followed her gaze. “Oh.” “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You made a noise.” “Breathing?” “You’re enjoying this.” Lisa allowed herself the smallest smile. “I've had a difficult weekend. I take what I can get.” Suzy glanced toward the doors. “Voss gone?” “Gone.” “And not circling the block?” “Not unless he’s changed cars and developed common sense in the same hour.” “Unlikely.” “Very.” Suzy looked back at Mandi. She was still smiling. Not her usual ridiculous grin, either. Something warmer. Much more dangerous. Lisa noticed the difference. Her smile widened. “Now I understand.” “You understand absolutely nothing.” “Of course.” “Go check the door.” “I was going to.” “Then do it.” Lisa walked away. Suzy stared at the notes. She read the same line three times. It did not become any more interesting. --- ### 4:51 AM — An Outstanding Matter At Madame’s table, Mandi was doing something that Panam found deeply suspicious. She was waiting. Patiently. Her graphite collar caught a line of pink light as she shifted in the chair. The leash hung loosely between her and Panam’s hand. Her orange hair remained offensively bright. Her voice, when she finally spoke, remained at a perfectly reasonable volume. “Owner?” Panam looked at her. “Yes, sweetheart?” “I need to ask you something.” “That sounds expensive.” “Not financially.” Panam set her drink down. That was unusual. Mandi usually began by announcing a plan to everyone in a thirty-meter radius, then negotiated the details after somebody stopped laughing. This time she was watching Suzy instead. Panam followed her gaze. Then looked back. “Ah.” Mandi smiled. “Yeah.” “Work?” “No.” “Client?” “No.” “Personal?” “Very.” Panam considered her. Behind them, Nova and Vega were arguing quietly about which one had been more responsible for Celeste laughing during their booking. Sera leaned against Nadia, half-asleep, while Nadia drew idle patterns on her hand. Dalia and Deja stood at the bar, still together, still apparently capable of inventing a new argument every eight minutes. This was not a work question. It was Mandi asking her owner to step out of the working structure for a while. Panam rested a hand over Mandi’s. “You want private time with Suzy.” “Yes.” “Does Suzy know?” Mandi looked toward the booking station again. “Not yet.” “Then there’s your first conversation.” Mandi nodded. Panam watched her for another moment. “You’re tired.” “I know.” “You’ve been working all night.” “I know.” “And Suzy has been running the whole fucking club.” “I know that too.” Panam’s expression softened. “Then ask her what *she* wants. No grand surprise ambush.” Mandi laughed softly. “That would be more of a me thing.” “Exactly.” “And if she says she wants to go home and sleep?” “Then you give her a hug and let her.” Mandi’s answer came immediately. “Obviously.” Panam believed her. That was the important part. She touched Mandi’s cheek. “Go talk to her, sweetheart.” Mandi glanced at the leash. Panam followed the look. The nightclub shift was over. Whatever Mandi wanted now was hers to choose, not a Stable booking to process. Panam unclipped the line and folded it into Mandi’s hand. Click. “Come back and tell me your plan before you vanish.” “I will.” “And drink the rest of that water.” Mandi looked at the half-full glass. Then at Panam. “Do you ever stop?” “No.” Mandi smiled. “Good.” She drank. --- ### 5:03 AM — The Woman Behind the Bar Suzy saw Mandi approaching. She also saw that the leash had been unclipped. She knew exactly what that meant for work. This was not work. Mandi stopped on the other side of the booking station. “Hey.” “Hey.” Suzy looked at her. Mandi looked back. Neither spoke for a second. Suzy narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning?” “A thank-you.” “For what?” “Halloween.” Suzy blinked. Mandi continued, a little more softly. “Bywater House. You came. You got dragged into our particular brand of insanity, and you still found time to be wonderful.” Suzy’s expression changed. “That was days ago.” “I know.” “And you already thanked me.” “Not the way I wanted.” Ah. There it was. Suzy leaned both hands on the counter. “Mandi.” “Yes?” “I've been on my feet since yesterday.” “I know.” “I have an entire shift to hand over.” “I can see that.” “And your owner would probably have me shot if I let you forget you need sleep.” “Panam doesn't shoot people over that.” Suzy lifted an eyebrow. Mandi considered. “Probably.” Suzy laughed. The laugh loosened something in both of them. Mandi came a little closer. “No pressure. I just wanted to ask whether you’d like to be alone with me for a while when you're finished.” Suzy studied her. “You're serious.” “Very.” The look on Mandi’s face was not a proposition shouted across a dance floor. It was an invitation between two women who had known each other long enough to recognize sincerity beneath a joke. Suzy let out a slow breath. “Give me ten minutes.” Mandi smiled. “I can do ten.” Suzy looked pointedly at her. “In silence?” “Don't push your luck.” “There she is.” Mandi leaned across the counter and kissed Suzy’s cheek. No performance. No audience. Just warmth. Then she turned back toward Panam. Suzy watched her go. Lisa materialized beside the station. “You need ten minutes?” Suzy did not look around. “How much did you hear?” “Enough.” “Jesus Christ.” “I have the floor and the security handover. The morning lead has the station.” Suzy finally looked at her. Lisa’s expression was professionally blank. “That’s not why I said ten minutes.” “Of course not.” Suzy considered saying something sharp. Then abandoned the effort. “Thank you.” Lisa smiled. “Go get your thank-you.” --- ### 5:16 AM — No Invoice Panam was putting away a stack of room reports when Mandi returned. Her detached leash was neatly coiled in one hand. Panam smiled at the sight. “Well?” “She said yes.” “Good.” “She needed ten minutes.” “Also good.” “She's getting somebody to cover her duties.” Panam nodded. “Then go.” Mandi hesitated. Panam noticed. “What?” Mandi looked at the leash in her hand. “Would you mind holding this?” Panam took it. There was no click this time. No booking. No client. Nothing to manage or approve. Only a small, familiar gesture between people who trusted one another. “I’ll keep it safe.” Mandi smiled. “Thanks, Owner.” Then she turned toward Dalia. Dalia was already looking at her. Naturally. Mai could read Ace through practically anything. A face mesh was not involved; the black contacts and orange hair did nothing to conceal that expression from her. Dalia raised one eyebrow. “Personal errand?” Mandi nodded. “A thank-you.” “To Suzy.” “Yeah.” Dalia smiled. “Good. Give her my love too.” Mandi stepped in close and kissed her. A quick, familiar kiss. The sort that needed no audience and no explanation among their friends. “I'll find you when I'm done.” “You will.” Dalia’s voice warmed. “Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.” From the table, Sera looked up from Nadia’s shoulder. Her silver-white hair stirred. She smiled at Mandi. Not asking to interrupt. Not pulling at the moment. Just reminding Ace that the Triad was still exactly what it had always been. Mandi crossed to her and kissed her forehead too. “Love you.” Sera smiled. “Love you.” Nadia watched them with unmistakable affection, one arm still around Sera. “Go,” she told Mandi. “Before Suzy starts billing you for lost management time.” Mandi snorted. “Cruel woman.” “Accurate woman.” Then Mandi went. --- ### 5:24 AM — Behind the Door Suzy’s office had one redeeming quality at five twenty-four in the morning. It had a door that closed. A real door. One that stayed closed when Suzy told it to. There were other qualities too. A reasonably comfortable couch. A kettle that produced drinkable tea instead of the bar’s usual coffee-flavored disappointment. Enough space to sit without somebody demanding a decision about music, security, or a booking. But the door was the main attraction. Suzy locked it behind them. Mandi looked at the couch. Then at Suzy. “Are you actually off duty?” “Lisa has security. The morning lead has the floor. Someone will call if the building catches fire.” “Good.” “And if the building catches fire, I swear to God, I’m staying in here until it reaches the stairs.” Mandi laughed. Suzy set her agent on the desk, silenced its ordinary notifications, and finally turned around. For the first time all night she had nowhere else she needed to look. Mandi was standing in the middle of the room. Not performing. Not shouting. Just looking at her. Suzy’s expression softened. “Come here, you idiot.” Mandi went willingly. Suzy hugged her. For a long moment neither spoke. Mandi leaned into the embrace with a sigh that carried rather more of the night's exhaustion than she had admitted downstairs. Suzy kissed the top of her head. “You've had a hell of a night.” “Good night.” “Still.” “Yeah.” Suzy drew back enough to see her face. “You came up here to thank me?” “Yes.” “For going to Halloween?” “For coming. For joining in. For understanding us. For being you.” Suzy looked at her for a moment. Then shook her head. “You know I was there because I wanted to be, right?” “I know.” “And that I enjoyed myself?” “Oh, I know.” A wicked little smile returned to Mandi’s face. Suzy laughed. “Little menace.” “Your menace, occasionally.” That made Suzy quiet. Not uncomfortable. Pleased. She rested her forehead against Mandi’s. “Occasionally,” she agreed. Mandi’s smile softened. “Would you like me to kiss you properly?” Suzy answered by kissing her first. The kiss was unhurried, familiar and entirely personal. Neither woman was selling anything. Neither was asking for a favor. It was a choice they made together, in a rare quiet space carved out of Lizzie’s long night. When they drew apart, Suzy smiled. “Was that the thank-you?” Mandi shook her head. “Only the beginning.” Suzy considered her, then kissed her again. “Then I'm interested.” They stayed close after the kiss. Suzy’s hand rested against the side of Mandi’s neck, thumb moving once over the graphite collar. Mandi answered by drawing her toward the couch. “You still want this?” Suzy asked. “Obviously.” They undressed each other without performance. Mandi’s outfit came off in stages; Suzy’s followed. The collar stayed. Suzy settled between Mandi’s thighs and used her mouth with unhurried attention, one hand braced at Mandi’s hip. Mandi was quieter than she usually was in public, the sounds smaller, one hand resting in Suzy’s hair. She came with a soft exhale and a quiet laugh afterward. Suzy kissed her way back up. Mandi drew her close so they lay facing each other on the couch, one thigh between Suzy’s, and returned the attention with her hand. She set a deliberate pace, watching Suzy’s face. Suzy’s hands stayed at her waist. Mandi came a second time with her forehead against Suzy’s; Suzy followed soon after, arms tightening, a low sound against Mandi’s shoulder. They stayed pressed together while the intensity eased, then Mandi settled fully beside her. The office was quiet except for their breathing and the faint residual bass from the club floor below. --- ### 6:01 AM — Worth Waiting For Mandi sat close beside Suzy on the couch, one leg folded beneath her. Suzy's arm rested around her shoulders. A glass of water sat on the table beside them. The kettle had cooled without either of them remembering to make tea. Mandi looked at it. “Tragic.” “What?” Suzy asked. “We finally got you ten uninterrupted minutes and wasted the tea.” Suzy followed her gaze. Then laughed. “Best ten minutes I've had in weeks.” Mandi smiled. “It was more than ten.” “Don't ruin the arithmetic.” “I’m being accurate.” “Since when?” “I'm versatile.” Suzy pulled her closer. Mandi went without resistance. They sat in the quiet for another minute. Then Suzy said, more softly: “You didn't have to thank me for Halloween.” “I know.” “You could've just told me you wanted time together.” Mandi considered that. “Would that have worked?” Suzy looked at her. “Try it next time.” Mandi's grin returned. “Oh, I absolutely will.” Suzy groaned. “What have I done?” “Encouraged me.” “Worst managerial decision of my life.” “Not even top ten.” Suzy laughed again. Then kissed her. A gentler kiss this time, with no need to lead anywhere. Mandi leaned her head against Suzy's shoulder. “Thank you.” Suzy rested her cheek against the bright orange hair. “Anytime, sweetheart.” --- ### 6:14 AM — The Leash Comes Back When Mandi returned to the club floor, the busiest parts of Lizzie’s were finally settling into the morning rhythm. Suzy walked out with her, one hand resting at Mandi's back. They had the look of two people who had remembered that there were good things in the world besides work. Lisa saw them. For once she said nothing. Suzy looked at her suspiciously. Lisa held the expression for exactly two seconds. Then: “No slides, I assume.” Suzy covered her face. Mandi laughed. “Not one.” Lisa nodded. “Excellent use of management time.” “Go away,” Suzy said. “Already going.” Lisa went. At Madame’s table, the remaining friends were beginning to make their own plans for the morning rather than being assigned one destination. Dalia sat beside Deja, their hands linked loosely beneath the table. Nova and Vega had their heads together over something on Vega's agent. Nadia was talking quietly to Sera, while Panam listened, smiling at the two women she loved. The room had that peculiar early-morning softness that arrived after everyone had run out of reasons to hurry. Panam saw Mandi first. She stood. Mandi approached her owner, and Panam saw the change immediately. Not a performance. Not the bright exhausted rush of a client booking. Contentment. Panam smiled. “All good?” Mandi nodded. “Really good.” Panam touched her cheek. “Comfortable? Too tired?” “Tired. Comfortable. Happy.” “A remarkably useful answer.” Mandi smiled. “I've been practicing.” Panam reached for the leash she had kept safe. Mandi leaned close and offered the ring at her collar. Click. The line returned to Panam’s hand. Mandi sighed with quiet satisfaction. Panam kissed her forehead. “Welcome back, sweetheart.” “Thank you, Owner.” Then Mandi turned toward Dalia and Sera. Neither asked for a report. Neither needed one. Dalia smiled and opened an arm. Mandi went straight into it. Sera rose and joined them, silver-white hair stirring into a faint halo when she smiled. Ace, Mai and Shammy — beneath Mandi, Dalia and Sera — held one another without ceremony. The Triad, intact. Nadia watched with tender affection. Panam rested a hand on her shoulder. No competition. No fracture. Just their thoroughly improbable circle of people, still finding room for one another as dawn crept toward Watson. Across the room, Suzy finally sat down with a cup of coffee and took one sip. Her face twisted. “Christ. I should have made the tea.” Mandi heard her. Somehow. Even from across the club. She started laughing. Not loudly. Not yet. Then everyone at the table began laughing too, though most had no idea why.