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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

(Double post)

(And a triple for good measure)

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?”

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.

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?"

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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?

10:58:17 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Kovacs' tone held the kind of honest uncertainty it had whenever he speculated on something without any relevant data.

Not sure. I don't remember much of them. My younger years were...unremarkable, I guess, is the most accurate term. We were happy, I know. There were more good times than bad. I never wanted for anything. But that life never interested me.

Mac nodded, although she knew he couldn't see her, and her own youthful experiences had been so vastly different. Her memories were charged with pain and fear, deep scars that sent her hurtling headlong down the path she'd been on until bad choices and coincidence had crossed her path with his. Movement outside drew her attention, though, and she felt a rapid pulse of adrenaline. A trio of unkempt individuals were cruising slowly down the street on foot, poking listlessly at the bundles of wreckage strewn about.

Moving quickly but quietly, she shifted position to get a better view of them, her hand automatically finding the butt of her pistol. The trio turned out to be a pair of men and a woman, young, perhaps late teens or early twenties. It was hard to make out further details through the layers of rags and dirt that covered them.

Low threat, street survivors. Hunger will drive them to desperate measures. Keep your eyes out.

Mac nodded, tight-lipped, her eyes on the scene unfolding. Her stomach ached in sympathy, memories of nights spent scrabbling for something to fill it.

A sudden commotion drew her attention as a pair of motorcycles roared to a stop. The riders, an ork and a human, were dressed in Crimson Crush colors. They pinned the street urchins in place with their headlights, dismounting with predatory eagerness.

"Well, well, what have we here?" leered the ork. One of the urchins made to run, only to be viciously checked to the ground by the human on his motorcycle.

"Looks like a party to me, Anvil!"

"Yeah, that it does," agreed the ork. "That it does."

11:01:07 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac swore colorfully but quietly as she watched the one of the trio go down hard and then wisely stay down. Her jawline tightened as she could practically feel the gaze of the Ork as it raked over the waif of a girl who stood trembling, rooted in fear. She was well acquainted with that fear herself, one too many times being on the receiving end of an overly-predatory gaze, thinking that she was theirs for the taking. It was obvious the trio of survivors were no match for both gangers let alone one of them.

Mac's gaze swung away from the view just outside to Tristan's prone form, unbothered by the commotion outside and back again. She shook her head as if the sleeping swordsman confirmed her course of action.

"I can't." It was the first words she had spoken out loud in over an hour.

As much as she would have wished to do something to stop anything from happening to the waif like girl, she knew she couldn't afford to give away where she and Tristan were holed up and her barely healed injuries guaranteed she wouldn't be worth much in a confrontation should she slip outside. She kept her attention on the five that now lingered just outside, but she stayed perched on the overturned filing cabinet, her hand still lingering near her pistol.

11:38:16 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

You may have to move. If they bring any more of the gang in, you and Tristan will be in danger of discovery. Might argue for early intervention. Kovacs' observation was bland and non-committal. Mac was familiar with the tone, glancing away from the casual brutality outside, even as the sounds of it crawled inside her mind like unwelcome insects. She flexed her hand on her gun again, staring at the synthetic of her fingers where they lay against the synthetic of the frame. Mac shook her head again, remaining firm in her position.

Can't. I'm still too wounded, and there's too many variables in play. And I'm outgunned with just a pistol.

She felt Kovacs give a mental shrug.

She forced herself to watch, eyes scanning the approaches on the street for any indication that the gangers were bringing reinforcements. She tried to ignore the screams that became anguished moans before falling mercifully into silence.

The gangers eventually left, their lust and violence sated for the time being, motorcycles snarling into the distance. Quiet returned to the streets. Mac watched. A tremor of movement caught her eye. The thin girl struggled to her knees, searching amidst the wreckage on the street for something.

11:52:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Her gaze zeroed in on the frail girl, reading the defeat and shame in the girls posture with far too much ease. Mac quickly became engaged with the girl's search however, wondering what would be so important for the girl to linger long enough for her intense search, but not even valuable enough for the gangers to have left behind.

Mac watched for a few minutes, but couldn't see either of the girl's two companions, but something twisted inside of her. The part that identified with how that girl survived on the streets and the emptiness that was all-encompassing. Before she could get too caught up in her own memories, Linda's words filtered past the dark emotions.

You know we take care of our own. Don't sweat trying to make it up to me. You can do that by taking care of someone else when she gets stomped on by the world.

She spared a glance towards the stockpile of rations, surely she could manage to go without a meal or two and without some water while she waited for Tristan to wake up.

12:14:32 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The girl found what she was looking for yards down the street, kneeling in the gutter to draw the broken body of one of her companions into her lap. Mac watched as her shoulders hunched and shivered, her body rocking gently as she wept for what was lost.

Mac felt her fists clench as the anger boiled through her veins. Anger at the callous violence of the gangers. Anger at the inhospitable streets. Anger at her inability to protect the girl. Anger at de Medici for setting the stage that allowed this to happen. It was fierce and irrational, a hot furnace of animal rage that wanted vengeance for every wrong suffered or witnessed. It excited and terrified her simultaneously.

I'm going to get her she said, daring Kovacs to counter.

Take Tristan's jacket, and an extra clip for your pistol, replied the samurai. After a moment, Mac nodded. The swordsman's jacket was oversized on her, but the weight of the armor instantly made her more comfortable. She jammed an extra magazine for the Browning into the pocket, clutching the pistol itself in her right hand. Doing her best to be silent, despite the jagged pains in her body, she twisted open the narrow panel that blocked the doorway into their hideout.

Poised in the entrance alcove, Mac scanned the streets, her eyes moving in a recently learned pattern, touching the intersections, the buildings, their rooftops and alleyways. Seeing no immediate threat, she skirted the broken wall to her right, moving into the street and slowly approaching the girl.

12:29:03 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

She approached the girl on near silent footfalls, only making a bit more noise as she drew within meters of the girl as to not startle her. Mac kept the majority of her attention focused on the girl but she was constantly scanning the area, seeking out the possible threats while she remained exposed. She tried to keep the stabs and shocks of pain that needled her sporradically from distracting her from her goal, getting the girl somewhere safe. She knew her adrenaline would continue to spike until she was back behind the door and in the relative safety of the squat. She waited until the girl before her was aware of her presence, the fear and trepidation on the girl's face flared a fresh wave of anger inside her and she was quick to make sure her posture was relaxed and her voice as soothing as possible.

"It's ok, I'm not here to hurt you." She raised her left hand while attempting to conceal the pistol she refused to let go of in her right hand within the oversized folds of Tristan's jacket.

"I just want to help," She paused and searched the girl's face, her gaze locking on the tear ridden, red-rimmed blue eyes that were filled with loss. "I want to help if you'll let me."

12:37:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Beneath the grime and crusted blood it's hard for Mac to determine anything about the girl. Her body is lean from a youth spent on the edge of starvation, with just a hint of hips and breasts. Her hair is matted and unkempt, a tangle of strands that hung down into her eyes. She could have been anywhere from twelve to twenty. Her face bears a familial resemblance to the boy who's body she weeps over, his sightless eyes staring up into the wan, smoky sunshine. Tears have cut tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, revealing the pale unblemished skin beneath.

"We weren't doing anything," she sobs quietly. "Just lookin' for something to eat."

She turns away from Mac, bowing her head. "Why'd they have to hurt him?"

12:49:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

"Because they could."

Mac's voice was level and devoid of any emotion. She saw no reason to sugarcoat the situation to the girl, she wouldn't insult her intelligence gained by a life on the streets. She watched as the girl continued to weep over the broken body of what Mac assumed was her brother.

She kneeled to the broken concrete and leveled her gaze with the girl. Regretfully she could see so much of herself and her past reflected in the girl's eyes and it twisted something up tight inside her. She spared a glance again at her surroundings, making sure she wasn't being watched or stalked from behind by the missing third companion, or worse.

"Nothing I can offer will bring him back, but what I can offer is something to eat and my protection."

She sat back on her heels, poised to spring to her feet in an instant, resting the pistol on her knees as she waited for the girl's answer.

13:38:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The girl nodded in response to Mac's offer, but made no move, her hand slowly stroking the blood-matted hair of her brother.

"What do I do?" she asked. "I don't know what to do."

Mac wasn't quite sure either, knowing only that they had to get off the street. Sitting out here amidst the wreckage made her feel vulnerable and exposed.

Carry the body around back of the building. There should be enough material there to build a cairn, advised Kovacs. Mac nodded.

"I'll help you take care of him," she said, working her hands beneath the still warm shoulders. The girl blinked, remaining motionless for a moment before Mac's efforts shocked her out of her catatonia. Together the two of them managed to carry/drag the body off the street and around behind the building. True enough, there were several piles of rubble strewn about. Mac steered them towards the largest, laying the body down adjacent to it before sifting through the bricks and broken cement for the appropriate pieces to form the base. The thin, wounded girl helped, tears still trickling down her cheeks. Together they outlined the body, then slowly covered it, creating an uneven mound. It didn't take long to cover the thin, broken form, the two finishing in silence.

The girl looked at Mac expectantly. "We're supposed to say words, aren't we?"

Mac nodded, unwilling to meet her gaze and admit that she had no idea. "Yeah, I guess so."

Into the arms of the city we deliver our brother...

Mac cleared her throat. "Into the arms of the city we deliver our brother."

The girl looked at her in some surprise, then bowed her head. Mac did the same.

"Into its spirit we give his hopes and dreams. Into its spirit we give his youth and his life, taken from us too soon." Mac continued to repeat Kovacs words.

"May he find peace at last."

13:57:53 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac closed her eyes both against the emotion of Kovacs' words and the continued sobs that were growing in volume once again from the girl beside her. Burying this girl's family amidst all the chaos that lingered on the streets managed to drive home the fact she still hadn't mourned her own loss, or even had the chance to say goodbye. Yet at the same time, the voice in her head reminded her that he wasn't entirely gone. A fact that was likely to frag her up six ways from Sunday if she wasn't careful.

She let the girl continue to mourn at the side of her family for a little while longer while she watched the streets around them. When she spotted a small group of people in the distance coupled with the revving of motorcycle engines somewhere nearby she made the decision that it was time to move.

"We need to go. Now." Mac's voice was clipped with urgency. She preferred that the girl followed a backtracked path with her of her own accord, but she wasn't against dragging the girl back with her if necessary.

14:18:06 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

In the end, neither course of action was required. The urgency in Mac's voice along with the distant rev of engines goaded the girl into action. She latched on to the hand Mac offered with fear-driven strength, her eyes wide and panicked. She followed close behind as Mac lead her through the narrow opening into the shelter of the room.

Tristan's form remained immobile, his breathing deep and even as he recovered from the narcotic fatigue. Mac pushed aside her own sleeping bag, making room on the cot. The girl sat, curling her legs up and hugging them to her body. Wordlessly Mac offered her one of the bottles of water, her eyes peering through the narrow slots of the window, trying to track the progress of the gangers. They seemed to be slowly working their way closer in a random fashion, likely out casing the area for anything worth salvaging or stealing. She glanced back at the girl.

"What's your name?" she asked, realizing she couldn't go on simply referring to her as 'the girl'.

"Cris," said the girl, her eyes and face still numb with shock.

"Short for Cristin?"

An expression of mild disgust flickered across her face, the first sign of emotion she'd displayed. "No. Cristofina. My mom was a big fan of the Blue Lotus sims."

14:39:41 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac nodded in acknowledgement, her gaze still fixed on the gangers movement outside and their approach. Convinced they weren't making a bee line for their hideout, she checked that the doorway was closed to the point that it appeared already searched and not worth anyone's attention, yet kept them both protected and hidden. She turned on her heel and started back towards Cris.

"I'm Mac."

She dug through Tristan's go bags, cherry picking the better of the ration packets that remained before tearing it open and activating the chemical heater before she passed the packet to the girl.

"I'm guessing you haven't had anything to eat in a while. It's not much, but better than digging through the trash."

She perched herself back atop the filing cabinet, keeping her attention split between the activities of the gangers and Cris, her pistol visible and at the ready. Her voice was soft, almost reverent yet distant.

"Was he your brother?"

15:02:09 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris stared at the ration packet in her hand for a minute before she took a bite.

"My youngest," she answered. She took another bite, her hands moving mechanically. Her eyes traveled slowly around the room as she chewed, their gaze dull and listless.

Mac kept watch out the window, more confident now that Cris wasn't going to do anything unpredictable like burst into loud hysterics.

"Is that your man?" asked the thin girl, gesturing with her plastic spork towards Tristan. Mac felt cold knives rake across the fresh wound of her loss.

"No," she replied, struggling to keep the harshness from her tone. "They killed him, too."

Cris glanced at her in surprise, guilt and sorrow in her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," whispered Mac. She took a drink in an attempt to drown the sudden lump in her throat.

"Who is he, then?"

"A friend. Fellow survivor of this madness." Mac wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal about Tristan to this street waif. Luckily, Cris didn't pursue it further, turning back to what was left in her ration packet.

"It is madness. Do you know what happened?" she asked after a bit.

15:25:34 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac instantly shook her head, feeling that it was best if she kept what she knew and what she surmised quite separate when sharing with Cris. There was no need to start explaining what she knew or trying to dispel away their involvement, or even speculating as to what was currently going on. Truth of the matter was she had no clue and it was better to stick to the generic and sanitized version of the truth for now.

“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on,” Mac’s gaze remained on the window and its limited view while she continued in hushed whispers.

“We were out in the city when all hell broke loose. I was hurt pretty badly,” She gestured with her new cyberarm and her still healing cuts and bruises were fairly apparent. “I remember a brutal explosion somewhere near me, pain so intense I couldn’t breathe and then darkness. I woke up here. Last night. With him.”

She nodded towards Tristan’s prone form before she spared her gaze on Cris.

“What about you, you’ve been out there and probably know more than I do really.”

15:41:16 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris shook her head. "Not really. We were just hanging out and then the matrix went down, then the power went down. People were just wandering around not knowing what was going on. Then the gangs came. There was chaos in the streets."

She sucked on the spork thoughtfully. "It was like...someone turned the world off."

Mac nodded. It was as an apt description as any. She hoped that her vague description would be enough to satisfy the girl. She didn't want to address any of the recent trauma herself, let alone with a street waif who's acquaintance she just made. She watched the flickering headlights of the gang's motorcycles cast back and forth. They seemed to be operating at a constant distance, neither coming closer nor further. She wondered if they were searching for something in particular.

Silence stretched in the small room, and after a few minutes Mac glanced over at Cris to make sure she was all right. The thin girl was fast asleep, her knees pulled up under her chin, the spork still dangling from her lips.

16:03:22 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The way the girl fell asleep effectively on her feet softened the hard lines of Mac's face for a moment. She slid from her perch and carefully plucked the spork from Cris' mouth before she unzipped her sleeping bag and draped it carefully around the girl without waking her.

Mac tiptoed around the room, cautious to keep the volume of her movements minimal not only to let the girl get some sleep, but to keep their position hidden from those lurking outside. With the constant rev and dissipation of the bike engines in the distance, she checked over Tristan and tucked his sleeping bag around him to conserve warmth as the fire they had going had long since burned out.

Lingering over his go bags, she reorganized supplies and took a mental inventory just in case before she zipped both bags up tightly and stored them a little more out of sight for the time being before she returned to her perch. She stared up at the ceiling as she fought to keep awake and alert and let out a lengthy sigh. Slipping back into the silent conversation in her head she found herself longing to hear his voice, to feel not quite so alone for a moment.

Looks like it's just you and me again.

16:29:43 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

So it would seem. The humanitarian thing isn't going to be sustainable for long, the rations in the go bags aren't designed to support more than one or two people. She's going to be a drain on resources. As soon as Tristan is up, you two should drop her off at one of the missions.

Mac grimaced. Although she knew his words were correct, the idea of dumping Cris right back into the mix didn't sit well with her. The missions were barely better than the streets, and given the amount of chaos still rampant in the city she was sure that their meager resources would be overwhelmed. The gangs would be out in force, taking advantage of the situation. Dark memories bubbled to the surface of her mind. She crushed her hands together, welcoming the pain as the cool synthetic of her right bruised the flesh of her left. She wished her motorcycle was here. Riding always helped clear her mind, helped chase the demons away in a neon blur of white lines and cold wind.

We could get more supplies.

You can't save everyone.

No, but I could save her.

16:46:07 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Letting loose a string of curses that could have made the most jaded cringe as logic warred with a unexpected set of emotions for a girl she barely knew but could see so much of herself reflected back, Mac tried to reign in her frustration and find another way to process since none of her usual coping methods were available to her. The fact that one was now gone forever wasn't lost on her either and only served to darken her already black mood.

Across the room Cris stirred but didn't wake, and for that reprieve, Mac was grateful. She mused over what made her suddenly so attached to this girl, why she had thrown caution and reason to the wind to bring her into the safety that Tristan had provided them. Why she didn't turn her back like everyone did against her so many year ago.

That right there was the crux of the issue. She wondered what would have become of her had someone shown something besides contempt, beyond how they could use her and move on so many years ago. But Cris wasn't her and like it or not, Kovacs was right, she couldn't afford to jeopardize her and Tristan's safety and security for each street waif. She would have to get her somewhere with a little more security than the open streets and let fate deal its hand.

Deep inside though, that still didn't completely sit right with her.

I'll get her somewhere safer when Tristan wakes. Until then she's not harming anyone getting the rest she'll need to go on without her brother.

17:02:14 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

I wasn't advocating throwing her out immediately. Ultimately it's your call on the timing, just keep in mind how thin the margin is in our current situation.

Trust me, I'm well aware. Mac lifted her new right hand, watching the fingers flex in response to her mental commands. So, you wore one of these for a long time. What can I do with it?

You'll want to get one professionally sized to you, and balanced to your organic strengths and flexibility. Otherwise it's going to throw off your balance and reflexes. Also, there's room inside to place small pieces of equipment, such as a commlink or deck. You can also put weapons in there: spurs, hand blades, even pistols and automatic weapons. They're less suitable than your current armament so I recommend against them. There are a few other optional upgrades that I would recommend, though.

Is this how it starts?

Yes. It's different for different people, but this is the path. You're lucky in that you gain from your scars. Other times, your scars will simply be reminders of how close you came to not being good enough.

Mac glanced out the window onto the street, watching the flickering headlights of the gang. What if I don't want to walk this path?

Then don't. Do something else. Anything else. But be ready: now that you know this world exists, now that you've seen behind the curtain and walked amongst these shadows, even if only briefly, you'll never be able to see the world in the same way.

17:37:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

A wry smile spread slowly across Mac’s lips at the entirety of truth to Kovacs’s statement. She had seen ‘behind the curtain’ to expose some of the highs and lows, the good, the bad and even the ugly in such a short span of time. She stopped for a moment and thought about the gravity of the statement as well. Could she really walk away and put behind her all that she had seen, felt and experienced? Even though she was only briefly involved in the shadows she wondered if she would always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if all of this would ever catch up with her. If she’d ever cross paths with Winternight and find some sense of solace in revenge for all she lost. Mac already knew it would haunt her forever.

Before her mind ran away with her and overwhelmed her in the moment, she stopped herself from getting too sucked into the unknown and jumping to conclusions that might not ever come to fruition. Instead she started to make a mental list of things that had to get done, and in what order that would inevitably lead her down a path that would resolve her mental gymnastics. The list was rather short and sweet; Leave Cris somewhere safe, get to Kovacs’ storage locker with Tristan’s help to find whatever he thought was important enough to leave to her then find her way to Frankie and Mario and see where that would take her. That would get her far enough. For now.

She returned their conversation back to the earlier train of thought where a question had kept plaguing her.

What happens if… when I replace my arm? What happens to you and everything we share between now and then?

17:55:36 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac felt Kovacs give a mental shrug.

Ultimately, it's up to you. As a purely electronic construct, I can shift to any device that has sufficient storage and processing power to run my heuristics. I continue to compile memories and update my core persona so there won't be a time that we would 'lose' the intervening experiences between my initial creation and subsequent activation. There's a reason, though, why the farmer in the legend of the fox commits suicide.

But you can't read the thoughts I don't want you to read, said Mac, and immediately wondered if that were true or not. How rapidly did the neural connections work?

True, you have to direct communications to me as if we were in fact speaking, the same as any kind of direct neural connection. But it is a unique form of intimacy and one that you may grow tired of, replied Kovacs.

Mac hugged her arms to herself as his use of the word 'intimate' brought memories flooding back. Through the pain of her still healing wounds, she could feel her body ache for his touch, the warmth of his one flesh and blood hand against the cool synthetic grip of his other. The hard male scent of his body, sweat and leather, kevlar and gun oil all mixed together. She felt the tears well up but did nothing to stop them, cheeks glistening in the chill half-light of the room, eyes staring out the window at a memory that felt simultaneously a thousand years old and just a second passed.

I miss you, too, whispered Kovacs.

18:19:43 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac choked on the sob that caught in her throat at his words, the final hammer to her heart that reopened every poorly bandaged wound she had managed to heal since she learned of his death. Her tears flowed freely now as she was unable or unwilling to stop them.

I miss you. More than you could ever know. I'm not sure I can do this alone.

The hand on her shoulder caused her to jump slightly, her synthetic hand wrapping around the offending wrist tightly in the blink of an eye, her left moving to her hip and drawing her pistol, expecting to turn into the gaze of a Crimson Crush rider.

"Ow! Let go! You're hurting me!" The waif keened low in the murky half-light of the room.

Mac quickly released the girl's wrist, mumbling an incoherent apology while she wiped violently at her tear-stained cheeks with little regard to her healing wounds.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were one of them."

She focused her gaze on the doorway and silently said a prayer that no one outside had heard Cris' cry.

18:46:22 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris shrank away from Mac, rubbing her hand where the cold synthetic had crushed it. Mac shook her head, cursing silently to herself. What had she become? The pistol was still at the low ready in her left hand, its weight at once comforting and alien. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her jumpy and sick to her stomach. Cris mistook her silence for anger, shrinking in on herself.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "Please don't send me away."

"Oh, hey, no," said Mac, struggling to right herself on the cot. She stuffed the pistol back into its holster so she could reach out to Cris with her left hand. The thin girl flinched at the contact, but didn't try and shy away. Mac settled herself next to her, draping the arm over painfully thin shoulders. The two sat in silence for a minute before she felt Cris relax, leaning her head against Mac's shoulder. She wondered if she should start another fire. The light was quickly fading, and the wind outside sounded cold.

"You were crying for your man," whispered Cris, more a statement than a question. "Sometimes I used to catch my mother crying like that, for my father. I used to promise myself I would never be like her. But I am like her, aren't I? Everyone in this world dies."

Mac felt her world hollow out at Cris' words, but at the same time something else bubbled to the surface of her mind. She didn't know where it came from, she must have heard it somewhere, and she would have laughed at the corniness of the line, if it weren't so starkly real at that moment. She pulled the thin girl close.

"If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."

19:23:27 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

With her flesh and blood hand, she gave Cris' shoulder a squeeze, gently this time before she put a little distance between them. She couldn't let herself get too attached to the girl, no matter how much she saw herself reflected in her. A subconscious part of her mind knew that she could very well be projecting herself, needing to feel close to someone to cope with her loss. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more distant, speaking for his benefit as much as the girl's.

"I never wanted to be like my mother either. But I suppose those that raise you leave a mark, set what your version of 'normal' is. But I think anyone you let in, and let close have that type of influence really."

A sad smile touched Mac's lips as she paused, the truth to her words spoken from the feeling as if over the last two weeks, Kovacs had as much influence, if not more over her life than her mother had over eleven years. She glanced towards the door and the mostly blocked window and held quiet for longer than just a pause in their conversation to see if there was any more indication of the presence of the gang lurking outside. She shivered inside Tristan's jacket and knew the trio wouldn't do well through the night without another fire.

Slipping away from Cris, she started to work her way through the space, gathering the pieces of things strewn about that would burn the longest, without the most smoke and brought them over to where the swordsman's previous fire had burned. After the girl realized what Mac was doing, she helped and the pair stacked the various items with some care to form a small but efficient fire. Mac then carefully rifled through the go bag that didn't contain food, working her way through the contents and around Tristan's various bladed weapons, she was rewarded with a set of matches in a tight waterproof case which she held up like a prize.

"Now maybe tonight we won't freeze to death."

23:08:11 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The fire, carefully banked, fills the small space with warmth after only a few minutes. Mac and Cris sit in silence for the most part, watching the flickering flames. Mac divides her attention between inside and out, although the gang has apparently moved off. As night falls, the wind picks up, howling coldly outside. More lights burn in the surrounding city, although here and there the sky still shines orange from unchecked fires. It seems as if slowly, ever so carefully, Seattle was picking itself up and putting itself back together.

Matrix signal is still spotty, although two solid windows open where Mac is able to send and receive texts from Frankie. Her and Mario were still safe, holed up in a dingy hotel room in Everett. They'd been able to get ahold of an outside news feed and the information was astounding. The damage wasn't limited to Seattle, alone, it was world-wide. Whatever de Medici and Winternight had done had caused widespread damage in every major urban area. Plus there was news from CalFree that Los Angeles had been hit by a devastating earthquake and flood. Supposedly almost all of downtown LA was under water! Mac wasn't sure she believed that last part, but it did make her wonder at how close they had been to being able to stop it all.

Cris couldn't keep her eyes open, and fell asleep shortly after they got the fire started. Mac let her keep the sleeping bag, hunkering down inside Tristan's jacket herself. She struggled to stay awake herself, finally resorting to a series of uncomfortable cat naps, each lasting about half an hour.

Mac. Kovacs' voice jerked her awake, and she glanced about, her hand automatically finding her pistol. The sleeping bag was empty.

She just stepped out the back door, I don't know where she's going.

Mac scrubbed her hand across her eyes before doing a quick inventory of the room. Nothing seemed to be missing. Moving as quietly as possible, she shifted open the thin panel securing the doorway, pausing while her eyes adapted to the gloom outside. The wind was bitterly cold.

Cris knelt next to her brother's cairn, head bowed.