39 – To Our Success

  When Tony and Addie climbed out of the Fast Ride cab, him clutching his two newly acquired weapons and Addie her backpack, Tony nodded toward her dad’s store. “You think he’s gonna get upset when he sees me?”

  Addie tugged his arm, turning him so she could look at his back. “I think you stopped bleeding, but your jacket’s a mess. Just keep your face to him, maybe? I’ll distract him while you go change.”

  “My nanites are still working on the bullet. I didn’t want to ruin another shirt…”

  “Oh, fine! My dad knew we were doing something dangerous; he’s the one who loaned you that gun. Might as well rip the bandage off.”

  “You mean put a bandage on…” Tony chuckled at his lame humor, and Addie snorted, leading the way to the shop and pulling the door open. As luck would have it, Bert was busy making a sale, and he just waved absently as they walked through to the store room.

  Addie set her pack down by the door leading to the stairs, then looked at him, hands on hips. “I suppose you’ll need my help.”

  Tony flexed his cybernetic arm. “This thing’s sturdy, but it’s not exactly flexible. I’d appreciate it.” He walked into the little bathroom, opened the cabinet under the sink, and pulled out some bandages he’d gotten for his eye on his second or third day in the Blast. He tossed the box to her, then began pulling his track jacket off. He winced, struggling to move his left arm out of the sleeve.

  “Gimme that,” Addie said, taking hold of the material. “Just hold your arm still. Let it hang.” Tony obliged, and Addie worked the jacket off. “Oof, Tony! Your shirt’s stuck to the wound. Come here.” She pulled him back toward the sink and then turned the hot water tap. Tony had a washcloth draped over the spigot, and she got it wet then gingerly pressed it to his wound, moistening the material of his shirt and dried blood.

  “I appreciate the tender care, but the wound’s mostly numb. You can probably just rip it off.”

  “Hush. I need to soften up that blood on your back anyway if I’m going to wipe it off. You didn’t want to ruin another shirt, remember?”

  “When we register as operatives, are you going to list ‘medic’ as a specialty?”

  “Hah! I don’t think so. Let’s not make a habit of this, hmm?” Addie lifted the hem of his shirt. “All right, can you raise your arms?”

  Tony did so, wincing just a little. His nanites had done a pretty good job numbing the affected muscles. Addie pulled the shirt up as far as she could reach, and then he finished the job, letting it drop to the floor. He heard Addie suck in a breath through her teeth as she dabbed around the bullet hole. Then, she seemed to think better of her strategy and began scrubbing the blood that had dried further down his back.

  “Hey, I appreciate it, Ads, but you don’t have to do all that. I’ll take a shower later.”

  “It’s nothing.” She rinsed the washcloth in the sink, turning the water in the basin pink. “Still want to get moved into your place?”

  Tony looked at the clock on his AUI and nodded. “Yeah. If I go over right now, I can pick up the keys before Mrs. Lane leaves.”

  “Well,” Addie said, tossing the washcloth into the sink, “let me get this bandage on. Give it a minute to dry.”

  Tony turned to face her, leaning his uninjured shoulder on the door jamb. Addie looked at him, then away, and he realized his bare chest was making her uncomfortable. He chuckled, clicking his tongue. “You never been to the public pool?”

  “What?” She looked back at him. “I don’t care if you have a shirt on!”

  “The lady doth protest too much—”

  “Shakespeare?” She arched an eyebrow. “Better be careful, or I might start thinking there’s something going on between those ears.”

  “Hey! Ouch.” Tony mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “That one hurt!”

  Addie smiled, but it seemed half-hearted. “Tony, you got shot today. There were bullets flying everywhere! If I wasn’t distracting those bangers with Humpty, I think you might have gotten killed when you ran for the street!”

  “Yeah.” Tony sighed and shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. “I rolled the dice a little too much; it’s been a long time since I wasn’t wired-up, you know? In the old days, I could’ve made that run a hell of a lot faster. Anyway, that’s what partners are for, right? You saved my bacon there, and now I owe you one.”

  “Oh, yeah, right! I would’ve been in real trouble without you, too.”

  “Maybe. I mean, if they caught you snooping around, they might’ve just slapped you around a little and scared you off. I think my presence escalated things.”

  Addie mimicked his posture, folding her arms and leaning against the opposite side of the door jamb. “Speaking of escalating. Do you think we’re in danger? Boxer or whoever’s running those gangs isn’t going to want people like us spreading tales. If the people we interviewed tell anyone what we were asking…” She trailed off, shrugging.

  “Well, we’re out of there. Trying to put a lid on things now would be kind of stupid; you could’ve sent that data to a hundred different people by now. The best they can do is hope you don’t put things together—you know, connect the dots. How many people in the Blast would know what some elevated Dust readings might mean? You’re just a nosy girl who’s been asking around about the increased gang activity for all they know. If we’re lucky, the bangers won’t even report what happened. They’ll want to save face.” Tony idly rotated his sore shoulder, sort of a one-sided shrug. “I hope.”

  “Well, I’m going to put the report together and send it to Mr. Yang. I’ll do it while you go talk to Mrs. Lane.” She grabbed the bandages off the sink and added, “Turn around.” Tony turned, and Addie waved her hand over his wound, fanning air over it. “I think it’s dry.” When Tony grunted in acknowledgment, she pulled the backing off one of the sani-foam bandages, gently smoothing it over his injury. He felt it expand slightly as the chemicals activated and clung to his flesh.

  “Thanks, Ads. Let me get a shirt, and I’ll go talk to Mrs. Lane. Message me when you’re done with that report.”

  “Okay.”

  Tony turned and watched her go. She grabbed her pack and went upstairs, but not before turning to narrow her eyes at him. “We still need to talk. This doesn’t count.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Tony watched the door click shut, then walked over to one of the three small boxes of his belongings, digging out a clean T-shirt. It was second-hand with a frayed collar and sleeves, but he liked how soft it was. It felt like real cotton, but he wasn’t sure—the tag was long gone.

  With a grunt of pain at the stiffness of his shoulder and back, he lifted the box and carried it out to the shop. Bert was still talking to an old guy about one of his new AI pets, so Tony nodded his head in the direction of the flower shop, hefting the box, and Bert got the idea, throwing him a thumbs-up. Tony pushed the door open with his boot and walked up and across the street, peering through the flower shop’s window, hoping the light he saw meant Mrs. Lane hadn’t left yet.

  As luck would have it, she was there, sitting at her little table, sorting packets of seeds in some kind of wooden filing box. When the bell rang and Tony came in, the box leading the way, she stood up and clapped her hands together. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it in time! My husband wants me to meet him for dinner soon.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. Got caught up running an errand with Addie.” Tony lifted the box. “Okay if I start bringing some stuff over?”

  “Of course, but let me get you your keycard and show you the space. I’m so happy you weren’t in a big hurry! I managed to get a handyman in yesterday to fix the floor.”

  “The floor?”

  “Yep, there was a leak a few months back, and the plumber tore up a bunch of floorboards. All fixed now!” She held up a plastic keycard. “Let’s go over the alarm system. I’m sure you won’t be keeping the same hours as the shop!”

  Tony set the box on her sales counter. “Sounds good, Mrs. Lane.”

  “Oh, stop that! Don’t make me feel old; call me Gretchen or Gretch from now on!” When Tony agreed, she spent a few minutes covering the security system. It was basic stuff and pretty much automatic; all Tony had to do was tap his access card to the reader on the door. In fact, he saw an option on the menu to set up biometrics and figured he’d do that when Gretchen left so he wouldn’t have to carry the card around. After that, he grabbed his box and followed her up the steps to the second-floor apartment.

  “You told me you didn’t have any furniture, so I left some things for you—nothing new, just a few pieces we put in when I rented the place before.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Thanks, Mrs. La—Gretch.”

  She smiled at his correction. “Now, there’s a lock on this door, too, so you don’t have to worry about my customers wandering up here during the day. I coded it to the same card for you.” She pointed to the keypad, and Tony tapped his card on it. The pad beeped, the door clicked, and Gretchen pulled it open. “I know it’s not fancy, but it’s a cozy space, and I think you’ll find it better than Bert’s storeroom.”

  “Oh, for sure.” Tony followed her in and was pleasantly surprised. From the door, he could see all the way through the apartment. A living area was right inside the door, which led to a small kitchen area with two counters in an L shape and a beat-up old fridge. Beyond that was a little kitchenette table with two chairs and a sliding door that opened onto an empty concrete balcony overlooking the street. Scarred-up hardwood flooring ran through the whole space.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “The paint’s bland, I know.” Mrs. Lane gestured to the yellow-beige walls. “You can change it if you want. Oh, and this couch folds out, and the memory foam cushions are surprisingly comfortable. You can sleep on that until you get furnishings for the bedroom.”

  Tony looked where she pointed, nodded, and smiled; it was a decent little folding couch with a mosaic-tiled coffee table before it. “Not too shabby; thanks, Gretchen!”

  The older woman beamed, pleased by his enthusiasm. “The light fixtures are new, too!” She walked into the kitchen area and pointed to a stainless-steel coffee machine beside the little sink. “A housewarming gift!”

  “Seriously? You didn’t have to do that!” Tony stepped close, peering at the device. “A CoffeePal? I’ve seen ads for these!” He saw a line running from the back of the machine into the countertop. “Is it hooked to the waterline?”

  “Yep! Through a filter, of course. I had Esther install it. Do you know her? She does plumbing in the neighborhood.” She pulled open the drawer beneath the machine, which was jammed full of coffee capsules. “I know it’s not real espresso, but it comes close. There’s a steamer on the side if you wanna make a latte.”

  Tony shook his head, struggling for words. “You really shouldn’t have.” He patted the side of the machine, a brief vision of his old, 18,000-bit espresso machine running through his mind. He blinked it away; this was no time to dwell on how spoiled he’d been back in the city. This little coffee machine meant more to him than that fancy piece; it was a gift with no strings attached. How much of his old life could he have said that about? Almost none. “If I knew everyone in the Blast was so nice, I would’ve moved here years ago.”

  She smiled and pushed his shoulder. “You’re silly, but you aren’t wrong! You came to the right street when you moved to these parts!”

  Tony nodded, enjoying the fiction that he’d had a choice. “And the bedroom?”

  “Right there.” She pointed to a hallway opposite the kitchen area, and Tony walked into it. On the right, he had a small bathroom with a shower, and on the other side was a decent-sized bedroom—completely empty except for a large rag carpet. Mrs. Lane followed him in and pointed to the rug. “It’s covering the new floorboards; they don’t match. I bought it second-hand, but the previous owner had it cleaned.”

  “Nah, it’s great. Cuts down on the echo. I need to get some furniture and some art.”

  “Well, that’s the grand tour. The fridge works, but if you put anything on the bottom shelf, it might freeze. Keep your veggies and fruit closer to the top.” She started back toward the front room. “I have to get going, hon. You know how to get ahold of me if something comes up, but remember our deal!”

  “Right, right. You won’t be hearing from me unless the place is burning down.” Tony followed her out and then watched as she locked the front door. “Gonna go get the rest of my stuff,” he said, waving.

  “See you tomorrow, Tony!” She hurried to the street, climbed into a waiting AutoCab, and Tony walked back to Bert’s.

  Bert’s customer was gone, and he waved when Tony came in. “Hey, sport.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Good! Sold two of those little robo-pets today. Nice markup!” He frowned, rubbing his white whiskers. “What about you two? Everything go all right?”

  “Things were good and bad. Good, ’cause Addie got the info she wanted, bad ’cause a few bangers got after us. We’re all right, though.”

  “Well, glad you were there. Did you have to use—” Bert nodded knowingly when Tony took the needler out of his waistband, still in the holster. He reached down and extracted the baton from his boot.

  “Didn’t use ’em. Thanks for the loan.” He set the weapons on the counter, then started for the storeroom. “Gonna move the rest of my meager belongings to the new apartment. Addie’s coming over to eat takeout later. You wanna join us?”

  “Nah, you kids have fun. I’ve got a detective serial I’m watching. Might have a drink, too, but don’t mention that to Addie.”

  Tony chuckled. “Lips are sealed, boss. All right, see you in the morning if I don’t stop by again.” With that, he slipped into the storeroom and grabbed the last of his belongings: a box containing some clothes, shoes, and the two guns he’d earned the hard way, and another box with the food he’d bought the other day—mostly canned meat. He laughed, remembering Addie’s reaction to his purchases.

  After he dropped the boxes off at the apartment, he walked down to Mr. Nguyen’s bodega on the corner and bought some beer. He was disappointed with the selection and the fact that he only carried rip pouches—no bottles. When he returned, he locked the door and messaged Addie to let him know when she was on the way so he could unlock it for her. Then, he went upstairs and put his two new guns on the little plastic and plasteel kitchen table. He’d considered selling them to Bert, but he’d sort of started to like the shotgun, and the pistol was a decent piece of hardware.

  He pushed the shotgun aside and picked up the forty-caliber handgun. He hadn’t had a chance to give it a thorough examination back in the thick of things, but looking it over, he thought it was probably fairly new. The maker’s mark was a stylized “L&Y,” which he knew stood for Leopold and Young Firearms LTD—a well-regarded manufacturer. He removed the magazine, then pulled the slide back, ejecting the last polymer round, snatching it in the air, and then pushing it into the magazine with the other one.

  “Two bullets left. Nora, open local connections. I’m going to pair with this pistol.”

  “Done.”

  Tony touched the pairing button just in front of the rear sight, and after a few seconds, he saw a targeting reticle on his AUI along with an ammo counter: 0/14. He waved the gun around, watching the reticle jump around his AUI. “Works.” He slammed the magazine back into the gun and set it aside. “Need to get a cleaning kit.”

  “I believe Bert has some for sale in his shop,” Nora said, almost hesitantly; she was still learning to discern between Tony talking to himself and her.

  “Yep. He sells ammo, too.” Tony pulled the shotgun closer. “This thing’s seen a lot of action, but it was damn solid during that fight. Still crazy that someone sawed it off. Perfect for a guy like me, though.” Tony flexed his mechanical hand to make the point clearer.

  “According to the city net, Osprey Arms are respected for the durability of their products, especially their linear accelerator weapons, or LAWs. Would you like to sync with this weapon so I can run some diagnostic software I found on their net page?”

  “Nora! Very nice initiative. Yeah, pushing the sync button.” Tony did so and watched as his pistol’s targeting reticle was replaced with a much larger one shaped like a circle. When he pointed the shotgun at the near wall, the circle got small, but when he shifted the barrel toward the far door, it expanded to cover almost the entire surface. There was also an ammo counter, a payload dial, and a battery percentage.

  “I’m running the diagnostics. Please set the gun aside and ensure it’s not powered down until completed. It should take around six minutes.”

  “Cool.” Tony pushed the shotgun toward the far side of the table and then got up to get a beer. He was just popping the tab off the pouch and checking the cabinets in the vain hope that he might find a glass when Addie messaged him. She was at the door.

  He ran down to let her in, surprised by how dark it had gotten. Addie had changed her clothes—clean jeans and a soft-looking blue sweater. “Hey. Like the sweater.”

  “Oh, um, thanks.” She smiled and stepped inside the flower shop. “Smells nice in here. That’s a perk I hadn’t thought about.”

  “Right? I get to smell roses whenever I come and go.” Tony grinned and led her up the steps to his apartment. “What kind of food you wanna order?”

  “Can we get pho? It feels like a soup night. It’s getting chilly out there.”

  “Hmm, yeah, that sounds damn good.” Tony didn’t really care what they ate; he was just hungry. He gestured for her to precede him into the apartment, and she walked through, looking around at the mostly empty space.

  “Tony, this is bigger than I expected. Nice! It came with a couch?”

  “Yep. Check out the kitchen, too. Mrs. Lane got me a coffee machine.”

  Addie laughed. “You know what that means? Better get ready for lots of coffee dates with your landlady.”

  “Yeah, that’s all right with me. She’s pretty cool.” Tony leaned on the counter, watching her as she looked around the place, peering into empty cabinets, popping open the fridge, and closing it again without a comment. “Get a beer.” In illustration, he picked up the one he’d set on the counter and took a sip. “Sorry, no glasses.”

  Without comment, Addie grabbed a beer pouch from the fridge, popped the tab, and pulled out the spout. She took a long pull, making the vent burble. “Ah! That’s pretty good; I’m not usually a fan of beer.”

  Tony turned his pouch, eyeing the label: Se?or Playa. “Well, it’s pretty light—supposed to taste like a Mexican beer.”

  “Can I see the rest of the place?”

  He nodded to the little hallway. “Sure. It’ll take you about eleven seconds.”

  Addie giggled—was she already feeling a buzz? Tony thought about the time they’d spent together so far. Had he ever seen her drink? Had she ever even mentioned drinking? She wandered down the hallway, peering into the bathroom and then into the bedroom. “So much space! You’re going to have to get some plants,” she said as she returned to the kitchen.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tony nodded to the table. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.”

  “Okay, but just a sec. JJ’s ordering the food. Do you want beef or vegetarian?”

  “Beef.” Tony pulled out the chair near the guns and almost sat down but went to the fridge to grab two more beers. When he returned, he put one in front of the other chair and sat, waiting for Addie.

  “It’ll be here in twenty minutes or so,” she said, sitting down and taking another drink of her beer.

  “You didn’t have to buy dinner, but thanks.”

  “I told you I would, right? Besides, I didn’t bring you a present!” She wriggled back and forth in the chair, making the slightly uneven legs rattle on the floor. “Nice that you have a place for us to sit. I pictured us on the floor.”

  “Well, if there weren’t any chairs, your pops has some folding ones in the storeroom.” Tony drained his pouch in two long gulps, then pulled the tab off his second one. “So? Are we breaking up?”

  Addie’s eyes flew wide, and she stared at him for half a second. “Excuse me?”

  Tony grinned, enjoying the reaction. “I mean as partners. You’ve been saying you want to talk, and I got the feeling today was kind of… Well, it was more than you bargained for, yeah?”

  “I’m not backing out!” Her immediate response surprised Tony because he’d expected to have to talk her back into the idea and also because… Well, he supposed it was because he’d hated the idea of going it alone—without Addie. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and fidgeting with his beer pouch. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to work with her and how much he was dreading her saying she was having second thoughts.

  After a few seconds, when Addie didn’t say anything more, he nodded. “Damn. That’s a relief ’cause I really like working with you.”

  Addie’s serious expression lightened, and she nudged his shin under the table with her sneaker. “I’m pretty great, right?”

  “I mean, I know you’re joking, but yeah, you’re pretty great. I like how… Well, I like how you’re not jaded. You know that’s not exactly common these days, right? Speaking of that, did you send that report?”

  “Yep. I sent it to Yang. I think he’s a good guy, but I’m not totally sure, so I also shot a quick vid covering what we found with the evidence we gathered. I put it on the city net, encrypted, but I had JJ write a little daemon program to send it to every major corp in the metro area tomorrow at midnight.”

  Tony laughed, thumping his fist on the table. “I love it. Let those bastards fight it out. They can have a bidding war over those apartments, and with the whole process out in the open, the district commission will know what’s up. They can place demands on any corps that move in to harvest Dust—infrastructure, taxes, and even civic projects. The Blast is going to see a shitload of revenue from what you pulled off, Addie. People’s lives are going to change.”

  “I hope so, Tony. I hope it’s mostly good. I don’t trust it will be all good, but it can’t get much worse for folks around here. I mean, we have it easy, my dad and I, but there are so many people who are struggling.”

  “It’ll be better, Ads. Like you said, it can’t get worse. I’d toast to your success, but these pouches suck for toasts.”

  Addie finished her beer and smiled, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol. “I don’t care. Let’s do it.” She ripped the tab off her second beer and held it up. “To our success.”

  “Cheers,” Tony smiled, squishing his beer pouch against hers. They both laughed and drank. “We gotta get some glasses or tell Mr. Nguyen to get bottled beer.”

  “So,” Addie said, putting her beer on the table, “if I promise not to back out of our partnership, will you answer some questions for me?”

  Tony groaned. “Oh boy. Here we go.” He smiled to show he was teasing and then shrugged, “Yeah, Ads. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Shoot.”