Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 15th-21st Options

[Vegas]

23:02:17 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

She had managed a slight nod and a warmer smile in response to the swordsman, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears yet again and she wondered if she’d even be able to stop herself if she tried. Tristan’s words sparked a whole other avenue of regret inside her though, all the things she had wanted to say to Kovacs, but didn’t out of fear, and now she would never get the chance. Mac shook her head and did her best to keep from sinking deep into her emotions, because for the first time she wasn’t certain she’d be able to claw her way back out. She glanced down at her new right hand and choked out a bitter laugh.

“Fate has a pretty fragged up sense of humor, hmm?”

The icon in her AR taunted her unhashed and practically begging to be opened. Trepidation built in her unsure if she could handle just what that file was or what it contained or even why it was suddenly accessible. She had a pretty good grasp on the answer to the last and it made her sick. She felt so weak, so fragile and it wasn’t a place she wanted to stay in for long. Mac calmed herself and slowed her racing pulse back down by drawing deep breaths and trying to center herself. She had two choices, she could give up or she could keep fighting like she had all her years. Reality was, she never gave up but the ache in both her heart and body threatened to break that streak.

In that moment, she just wanted to stop feeling for a little while and she wanted a little privacy, whatever could be afforded to her while she read that file. She glanced over at Tristan who was still beside her and asked for the one thing she hoped she could count on for a little relief.

“Don’t suppose the Doc managed to send us home with anything worthy of managing the pain?”

Mac nodded as “Please,” left her lips. She waited until he had stepped away from her before she thumbed her commlink awake again and opened the file, holding her breath as it opened.

[grendel]

23:14:39 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Tristan shook his head. "Doc needed all of his supplies for the flow of injured coming in, but I have just the thing stashed away. Only for emergencies, though."

He stood and moved over to the bag resting on the floor next to the filing cabinet. Mac double tapped the file. A loading bar appeared in her AR. Whatever the file was, it was huge, taking up every last bit of open space on the OMC. It was going to take a while to load.

"Here." Tristan offered her an unmarked slap patch along with a stainless flask. "For medicinal purposes only."

Mac nodded, slowly pushing herself up to a more upright position. Taking the patch, she peeled off the back and applied it to the pale flesh of her left wrist. The narcotics hit her almost immediately, a cool chill rolling through her veins. The alcohol was a slow burn in comparison, something hefty and sharp, but of good quality. Her stomach roiled, though, empty save for the alcohol. She wheezed, reaching for the water bottle again.

"Thanks."

"Think you could eat something?"

She shrugged. "One way to find out."

The swordsman's smile was a bit grim, but he still produced a thin ration packet. Cutting open the top, he pulled out the chemical heater, dripping water into the pouch before flexing it and sticking it back in the ration packet. It emitted a puff of steam as it heated. Tristan repeated the procedure for his own, setting it on the floor while it heated.

"Not exactly Eye of the Needle, is it?" asked Mac, her own smile mirroring his of a moment earlier. Tristan barked a short laugh. "No, not exactly. The company is better, though."

Silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire, intruded between them. After a couple of minutes, Mac reached down and extracted her ration bar from its packaging. It still had the consistence of muddy sawdust, and a flavor only slightly better, but warmed was infinitely better than cold. Tristan ate his in a smoothly mechanical manner, doing his best not to taste any of it.

"Definitely not the Eye of the Needle."

Mac was going to reply, but her AR flashed a notification.

File installation complete. Reboot required. Reboot now? (Y/N)

She glanced at Tristan then clicked (Y). She felt her arm go numb and dead for a second before it trembled back to life. For a second, nothing happened.

Hello, Mac, said Kovacs' voice in her head.

[Vegas]

23:20:29 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac gasped in surprise at the sound of his voice, before she dissolved into a fit of coughing as she accidentally inhaled the small bite of the ration bar she had just taken. Tristan looked over in concern and she waved him off, clearing her throat before downing a good portion of what remained in her bottle of water. She looked at her commlink with a mix of confusion and like it had become the most precious thing in the world to her in that moment. She looked over towards the swordsman and the softest of smiles turned up her lips.

"What the hell did he do?" She whispered softly, but Tristan definitely caught it and raised an eyebrow her way. She held up a finger forestalling the question on his lips until she could explain it.

"You better pass that flask back over, this might require a few more sips."

She shook her head and wondered just what Kovacs had done.

Hello Kovacs.

[grendel]

23:26:48 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Just so there's no mistake. I am not Kovacs. Or, more correctly, I am not the Kovacs you knew. I am a Hyperdyne Persona Model Echo Lima 1 Alpha. I am imprinted with the skills, memories, and personality of the individual you knew as Kovacs. For all intents and purposes, I am Kovacs as he was on 05:00:00 Friday, 12 January 2063.

Mac blinked, rewinding her memory back, then glanced at Tristan.

"Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?" asked the swordsman, and she believed him.

"That Friday that we first met, when you slept over at his place. Did Kovacs go anywhere?"

Tristan shrugged. "Could have, I was asleep until six thirty or seven. He was up and dressed when I woke up so it's conceivable that he ran an errand."

"He did," nodded Mac, voicing her suspicions. "He went to Isomer's place and had his brain copied into a persona chip. A persona that's been uploaded to my commlink."

Your arm, actually. Your commlink lacks the processing power necessary to support my heuristic functions. Otherwise, you're correct.

Mac shook her head. Despite what the persona claimed, it certainly sounded like Kovacs.

[Vegas]

23:30:07 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so what came out before she spoke was a lively mix of both.

“Great, I get my very own shadowrunning angel in my head.”

The drugs Tristan had given her, coupled with the emotional overload were making everything fuzzy and she stole another decent draw from the swordsman’s flask with a hiss as the alcohol burned its way down. She capped it off and handed it back before she laid down again, shaking her head as the reality of what Kovacs had done sank in a little deeper. Part of her knew what a gift it was, what it might be even, to have a piece of him always with her and yet another voice in her head reminded her that this version of him was missing nearly a week of their lives together. It wouldn’t remember their last moments together before the run, or the things they danced around with their words.

“I don’t even know how to begin to process this right now.”

[Vegas]

(Double post)

[Vegas]

(And a triple for good measure)

[grendel]

23:36:29 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Tristan stared at Mac, and for a moment she read something uncomfortable on his face. Then his eyes cleared, and a smile threatened the stitches on his wound.

"That son of a bitch."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Well, for good or ill, you're stuck with him now. Glad it's your head and not mine."

I am, too, said Kovacs. Although he could do with an upgraded conscience.

Mac almost successfully suppressed a giggle, earning her a side-eye from Tristan.

"Snark from the peanut gallery is only acceptable if I can hear it, too."

Mac's face was the picture of innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh huh." She could tell that Tristan didn't believe her. The swordsman gestured to the ration bar held forgotten in her hand. "Eat up, you've gotta get your strength back so we can clear out of this bolthole and back to something more civilized."

[Vegas]

23:42:18 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Behave, please.

Mac grimaced but dutifully bit back into the ration bar she had been distracted from and confirmed that she should have downed it all while it was still warm. She swallowed hard, and continued to eat as much as possible motivated by wanting to find her way back to something more than camping pads, sleeping bags and indoor fires. In between bites she posed another question to her companion, the one in the flesh specifically.

“So if you haven’t dug too far into what’s going out there, did we get anything from de Medici’s case or was it destroyed like nearly everything else?”

She shivered as she remembered holding the case and bits and pieces of the moments before everything erupted into fire and pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block it out for now, but she knew that night would forever come back to haunt her, likely in more ways than one.

[grendel]

23:49:36 Friday, 19 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

"We got you," replied the swordsman. "De Medici's armored case absorbed a lot of the shrapnel and blast, it protected your vitals, but it was destroyed in the process. I got in touch with the Mafia guys that swept the scene after we left, they claimed there wasn't anything of value. Not sure I buy that but at the same time, I don't think there was a chain of command in place that could have squashed that information as rapidly as was necessary. This is especially true considering that I wouldn't bet that those foot soldiers would know anything of value unless it straight up bit them in the hoop."

Mac slumped back. "So it was all for nothing? Everything we did, everything we lost?"

Tristan looked over at her.

"It was never about saving the world," he said softly. "It was only ever about getting us clear."

Once more she was struck by the raw expressiveness of his eyes, how different they were from Kovacs', and how, despite the pain that lived there, he could still look and see something worthwhile in the bigger picture. He didn't have to say that the 'us' hadn't necessarily included the late samurai from the beginning. Once more the aching emptiness inside threatened to overwhelm her, and she swallowed convulsively, pushing it back down.

Why? Why did you leave me? she railed silently.

I didn't leave you. I was taken from you. By fate. Cruel choice. The actions and decisions of others. Whatever the lynchpin was, it is too late to undo now. You have been dealt a new hand of cards. All that remains is for you to play them. There was an added coldness to Kovacs' voice, and in her mind's eye she could see him: the stern tilt of his head, the stillness of his body, the hard truth of his eyes.

"No days off," she whispered.

[Vegas]

00:03:41 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

"I guess it's time to know everything I'm playing against."

Her voice was a whisper, laced with all the emotional and physical fatigue brought about by their shared loss and her injuries. She slowly sat back up, using the wall behind her for support when her body fought against the idea. Pushing down the sleeping bag she was nestled in, she exposed the top of the anonymous set of flats she had been wearing since the Doc's.

She shivered against the chill in the air that washed over her skin in counterpoint to the warmth inside the sleeping bag. With a sigh Mac started to really take stock of her injuries, lifting and raising the fabric from her skin to take note of where the deepest wounds remained. Her fingers slid over her skin, occasionally drawing a hiss of pain or a sigh of relief from her lips. She could already tell which might leave visible scars and which would heal to nothing given time. Her self examination ended with a lingering gaze on the matte grey cyber arm and the way it's fingers, her fingers, flexed with a command.

Turning her head she looked over at Tristan and frowned slightly, wondering when the last time he had slept while keeping watch over her. She reached over to the small pile of her things and drew her Browning just a little closer.

"Look, I may not be worth much to us right now like this, but I can keep watch. Can't afford to have you exhausted, disoriented or worse. Get some sleep Tristan, besides, now I've got someone to keep me company for a while."

And we have plenty of things to talk about.

Mac's smile was weak, but full of concern for the swordsman instead of herself, knowing her physical injuries were going to take time to heal but she could spare a few hours to make sure he was well-rested in case trouble came to their door.

[grendel]

00:11:42 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Tristan shook his head, checking the chrono on his commlink before answering. "Can't, I'm on a long haul bender. I've got just under eight hours left. After that I'll be down for a day, maybe two, so get the rest you can now. You'll be watching over me soon enough."

Another careful wry smile pulled at his lips, and he gestured towards the pair of duffle bags stashed against the near wall. "We've got enough rations and water to see us through until I'm up and about again. With any luck most of the madness outside will have died down in the interim and we can set about resuming our lives. I already cleaned out my stash on the way here, so if you've got a drop that you need to hit I'll see you through it. Then I've got someone I need to find."

Mac nodded, rubbing her head with her left hand. The cyberarm, which responded flawlessly to her mental commands, still felt leaden, and wrong. It was clearly mis-sized to her, the fingertips extending half a dozen centimeters longer than her remaining flesh and blood hand. It wasn't comically large, but it did make her feel unbalanced. She wondered idly about the stash that Kovacs had left her, and whether or not she wanted to try and find Frankie and Mario first or hit it up for gear that she might need to survive the urban chaos.

Unable to make a decision, she stared silently at the flickering flames.

[Vegas]

00:31:12 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Knowing from first hand experience at how brutal a Long Haul crash could be Mac simply nodded and tried to snuggle back into the cocoon of the sleeping bag to find a position that caused her the least amount pain. Once settled she stared up at the ceiling for a bit before making the decision to at least try to reach out to Frankie and Mario with a message, hoping they were holed up somewhere safe, since she and Tristan weren't going anywhere for the time being.

Hey girl, check in when you can? Let me know that you're both safe please?

She sighed on a long expel of breath and resumed her examination of the ceiling. Her body ached for more rest but her mind kept spinning and processing recent events and realizations, keeping her awake longer than she would have liked. She figured Tristan would wake her before his inevitable crash, but she set an alarm for seven hours from that point on her commlink all the same.

"I've got somewhere I wouldn't mind swinging by before we part ways."

Mac closed her eyes and willed her mind to slow down, to quiet the riot of questions she still didn't have answers for, to quell the feelings of guilt and loss that lingered prominently. It wasn't until she laced the fingers of her left hand with the synthetic of her right, that the storm started to calm. The sensation reminding her of countless connections she had made with Kovacs and for a moment, with her eyes closed she could almost believe he was there with her. She needed to hear his voice one more time before sleep claimed her again.

Tell me it's going to be ok Kovacs, even if you have to lie to me, just for tonight tell me things will be ok.

[grendel]

00:35:49 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Of course things are going to be ok. You survived, didn't you?

She could see his face in her mind: the smooth motion of his head as he would turn to look at her, the hard, expressionless eyes that seemed to pin her in place, seeing through whatever artifice or facade she put up. And then, after the blunt, cold words, there would come a moment of warmth. The lines of his lips would soften, and he would reassure her with a touch, or gesture. She could almost imagine that now, as the voice in her head paused before continuing in a gentler tone.

The sun will come up. The fires will die out. The dead will be buried. The living shall mourn. And then they will rise. You're going to be ok.

[Vegas]

07:19:22 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

But I'll be without you.

Another set of tears slipped from behind her closed eyes and snaked across her cheek, pooling against what passed for the pillow she was using. She tried to keep the conversation going, but her physical body's demand for rest so it could continue to heal caused her thoughts to become less coherent until she finally was pulled back into a deep sleep.

Mac woke up a good 15 minutes before her alarm and though her eyes were puffy and sore, her head felt a million times clearer. She cast a glance around the room, where they landed on the swordsman. She could tell in an instant he was on his last reserves, fighting to stay awake until she had risen. She sat up and nodded in his direction, a thoughtful smile on her lips.

"Your turn to rest. I got this."

It wasn't until the swordsman's breathing deepened and she knew he was out cold that she even attempted to get fully out of the sleeping bag. She made her way over to the duffle bags he had indicated earlier and dug through them quietly, retrieving a fresh bottle of water that she downed half of before she mulled options for something to eat.

[grendel]

07:36:49 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The duffels were Tristan's go bags, an emergency stash ready to be retrieved at a moments notice and useful for survival in the immediate aftermath of a catastrophe. If this didn't qualify, Mac didn't know what would. There was a medkit along with spare supplies, enough that they could have done low-grade surgery in the field. A survival pack with a space blanket, flares, fishing line, waterproof matches, signal mirror, whistle, rope saw. A spare set of armor and clothing in his size, a pair of boots, gloves, balaclava, respirator. Water in heavy duty plastic bottles. Water purification tablets. A shallow stainless steel pan and mug. A folding chemical stove and fuel, just large enough to fit beneath the pan. An Ares Predator V in a holster along with three full magazines. Three heavy fixed blade knives.

She recognized two of them as Baendyrmal's work. Holding one in her hand, she wondered if she should visit the dwarven smith with news of Kovacs' death. She set the knife aside.

Last were the rations: twenty one plain brown plastic squares, about twenty centimeters to a side, each stenciled with plain black lettering advertising the flavor of their contents. She knew the variety well, there were only seven different flavors. She flipped through them absently. Then put them back. Then pulled them out again. She should eat something.

She checked her commlink to see if Frankie had replied to her. The screen was fuzzed with a matte hash. NO SERVICE blared the text warning.

Mac sighed, rocking back on her heels. Tristan snored. Outside, in the distance, sirens wailed. The air still reeked of smoke and hot plastic.

Without looking, she rummaged through the pile of rations, selecting one at random. Opening the bag, she pulled out the chemical heater, soaking the tablet with water before sliding the ration packet inside. While she waited for the food to warm, she unrolled the thin napkin onto the fallen filing cabinet. Set the spork out, along with the tiny paper tubes of salt and pepper. A fresh bottle of water completed her place setting.

Carefully she pulled the warmed ration packet from the heater, setting it down to cool a bit before she could open it and stir the mush inside. It tasted like soy flavored mud, but she was suddenly ravenous, wolfing down spoonfuls of it.

Your body's healing. It needs the fuel, said Kovacs.

[Vegas]

07:49:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac polished off the remainder of the ration in record time for her as she found herself nodding to Kovacs’ observation, knowing the fog and fatigue that had plagued her when she first woke up had disappeared leaving only the physical pain behind. That, she knew, would take time to heal and she didn’t even want to go down the road of the emotional impact because she wasn’t certain that was a part of her that would heal and even if it did, it was certain to leave the nastiest of scars.

After downing the remainder of the water in the bottle she had pulled out, Mac cleaned up the remnants of her breakfast and decided to survey the space that constituted Tristan's idea of going to ground since the sun had come up. She noticed there was at least one window in the space where she might get a glimpse of what was happening outside since her commlink was worth nothing at the moment.

Peeling away the covering on the window just enough that she could angle herself against the wall and catch sight of the billowing chemical white and oily black smoke from the various fires that still burned and lingered over the city like a shroud. She shook her head at the extent of the chaos that had been unleashed around them.

"What did they do?" She whispered against the coated glass as much to herself as to the samurai who resided in her head. Her fists clenched and her jawline tightened in anger as she stole another glance at her near-worthless commlink with its “No Signal” message taunting her. As she glanced back up to take another look at the city that was rapidly descending into likely anarchy and chaos she was struck with the feeling of deja vu as many parts of the metroplex were already starting to take on characteristics from the simulations of War Worlds. The sickening realization that Tellerman had been right when she had said the war was coming.

“Jesus Christ,” Mac hissed in disgust, frustration and anger. “It’s never going to be the same again, there’s no going back from this. They set It free, didn’t they?”

[grendel]

08:36:17 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

87.45% +/- 3% that a hostile AI is involved in the current situation, replied Kovacs, answering Mac's half-rhetorical question. From her vantage point she could see the city was clearly still changed, even four days after the event. The skies were clear of traffic, not even the usual advertising and traffic surveillance drones were airborne. Few lights burned on the buildings, even the corporate skyscrapers spiking the downtown skyline were mostly dark. It seemed like the worst of the fires were out, though, either extinguished through action or dead from lack of fuel. She could see some vehicle traffics on the surface streets and elevated freeways, but even that was a fraction of the usual movement through the metroplex. Gunfire still sounded sporadically through the smoky air, closer than she would have liked.

Mac reached reflexively for her pistol, finding it comfortably close at hand. She made the decision then to visit Kovacs' drop as soon as possible. She needed more firepower.

The buzz of her commlink caught her by surprise, making her jump. It danced on the cot as it received a sudden, torrential download of messages, twenty or so all at once. Scooping it up, Mac checked the signal: weak and spotty, with limited bandwidth. All of the messages were from Frankie, the initial ones status updates of her effort to keep girls off the streets. Then, panicked demands for information and clues as to what was going on. Mac could almost picture how badly the situation had deteriorated by the tone of Frankie's messages, each more desperate than the last. The final two were check-ins. Apparently her earlier text had gotten through at some point. Frankie and Mario were fine, but had to abandon The Stable for another place in the city.

[Vegas]

09:21:42 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac's eyes locked on the signal strength on her com link and watched it drop away or gain minuscule increments of strength as she moved about the room. She rooted herself in the space that gave her the best reception and fired off messages in rapid fire succession to Frankie. Halfway through the first message however she had a momentary thought of caution and her fingers paused. de Medici had her commlink info at one point and she wondered if she was vulnerable because of it and without Drift's network protection. She deleted the message she had started and started a second that was more vague just in case someone was listening.

So glad to know you're both safe. I'm babysitting one of my friends as they're not in a condition to travel. I have a stop to make the moment they're on their feet and then I will come to you. Might be a day still, so I'll get your details then just in case you have to move again. Stay safe, keep your eyes and ears open. Keep in touch.

Mac sent the message without a second of additional hesitation and stared at her commlink for at least a minute afterwards, willing it to vibrate with a message back. Instead it sat motionless in her hand before the angry "No Signal" returned to view. With a hefty dose of frustration, she threw her commlink towards the cot and shook her head. She wasn't going to get any updates as to what was happening for the time being and the room once again descended into a near silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of Tristan's deep snoring, her own breathing and the occasional puncture of gunfire.

Mac moved across the space, climbing up to perch on the fallen file cabinet, much to the protest of her scrapes, bruises, stitches and healing wounds. She leaned back against the wall for support with her legs out in front of her, her weapon still at her side and her gaze focused upon the only point of entry to the room. She only had her lover's voice in her head to keep her company and she planned to take advantage of it.

"Since I've got all this time to kill waiting for sleeping beauty to wake up, let's have a conversation. Let's play 20 Questions."

Her gaze across the room shifted from focused to pensive and thoughtful as she let out a long drawn out breath.

"Since I suggested it, I'll go first. How exactly did you envision this playing out, you in my head 24/7?"

[grendel]

09:32:14 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

I'm not sure if I'm mineral or not. Kovacs cut right to the end, although his tone was more speculative than anything else. Mac wasn't sure she was ready to handle a conversation about a topic as deep as the nature of the existence of an electronic entity, and if it was more than the hardware it ran on.

I was thinking along the lines of something more practical, she replied. We can leave the determination of your existence for another day.

She gazed out the window at the rays of wan sunshine piercing the clouds of smoke over the city.

What should I do? After Tristan and I part ways, I'm going to head to the storage locker. Should I empty it out completely? I don't have a place to stay. I don't even have a vehicle.

You'll definitely need a vehicle. But you'll have to assess the security of the storage locker once you get on site. If you think it's still safe, you can leave what you don't immediately need there. You can meet up with Frankie and Mario after, maybe see what their flat looks like. You might be able to squat with them for a few days until things calm down more.

[Vegas]

09:37:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac's mood grew ever more somber as his voice continued in her head, laying out her next steps as simply as if he was discussing the weather. He was right however, that Frankie would let her crash with them in a heartbeat, provided they still had a safe place to harbor until the brunt of the chaos wound down. She was confident that she'd be able to make it to the storage locker with Tristan's assistance, but it was the lack of a vehicle after that bothered her the most. She wouldn't make it far, even with enhanced firepower, by foot.

A vehicle is going to be the sticking point. Even if I can get to my bike, it's not exactly practical for moving gear. She chewed on her bottom lip as she worked through the snag in her plan and an idea came to her. I don't suppose there's any way I can have access to the truck?

[grendel]

09:49:36 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

You can stop by Rollo's place, but given the state of the city I wouldn't hold out hope that either it or the truck survived intact. It would be prudent to have an alternate plan.

Mac acquiesced to the reality with a grim nod. Given the amount of chaos in the streets, it wouldn't be surprising of criminal elements seized the opportunity to settle old grudges or abscond with unguarded loot.

A backup plan would be great, I'm just not sure what it should be. I don't have the know-how to heist a car off the streets.

Maybe not the technical know-how, but you have a set of skills which can be applied to the problem.

That's cold, was the first thing that sprang into her head.

It's a cold world right now. You do what must be done to survive.

[Vegas]

10:00:28 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac's lips curled into a snarl as her anger flooded through her veins at his words, but her thoughts never quite materialized to match her mood as she knew there was nothing but truth in his words. It was barely two weeks ago that she wouldn't have found his comment cold, it would have been reality and second nature. Did she really believe that she had changed so much in such a short amount of time? That thought cooled the fire inside her nearly instantly and she released the tension in her hands, the nails of her left leaving marks in her palm.

She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling with a sigh. The thought of turning tricks now made her skin crawl, but even she had to admit she had a particular set of skills. Besides Kovacs was right, she could put them to use in times like these, and if it could gain her a set of wheels in the process, even temporarily, then she would do whatever it took to survive. She always had and she always would.

Mac picked at a fresh scab on her left calf till she drew blood, centering herself around the slight pain as she continued to work through the torrent of emotions that continued to shift inside her almost as often as she drew each breath. She knew it was the way she was processing all that happened, the pain, the loss, everything on an accelerated timeline because she had no other choice. Completely falling apart wasn't an option. Not here, not now. She needed to force her thoughts into a different direction.

If you're not sure you're mineral or not, tell me all the things I would have learned about you over time. What secrets we might have shared. Something to keep me going right now. Please.

[grendel]

10:26:41 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

If I were to tell you all my secrets now, what would there be left to talk about?

For a moment, the voice in Mac's head had the lilting, teasing tone she associated with Tristan, enough that she glanced reflexively towards the cot where the swordsman lay sleeping.

I have a younger brother, said Kovacs, softly. He lives in Atlanta, close by where my parents' place used to be. He's married, two kids. Son and daughter.

Do you still talk to him? asked Mac, already knowing the answer.

My family thinks I was killed during a routine training exercise over ten years ago. I set up a fund to provide a monthly benefit, ostensibly from the government. They don't know anything about what I do.

[Vegas]

10:41:04 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

We've got all the time in the world to share those secrets.

His unexpected teasing diffused her darkening mood and Mac's mouth softened into something of a smile as she couldn't help but imagine Kovacs as a child, growing up with a family, causing trouble with his brother. The complete opposite of the way she grew up. Her next question was filled with reverent curiosity.

We're you close with your family? Before, I mean?