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Haraway.
 
She stood, trapped like a fly in amber, motions slow in the real.
 
He could make out the shock start to move across her face, and ignored her for the moment.

He felt the tremble of the reactor at his back as he dropped through the air.
 
Status icons lit against his overlay, marked as the armor’s systems came online.
 
The floor pushed up at him, and he landed in a crouch as glass shattered into fragments in a ring around him.
 
The concrete floor of
The Hole
cracked as one of his knees came down against it, and he lost the grip on one of his subs.
 
He stood as Metatech’s weapon cleared his holster.

“I’m real sorry about this,” he sent to Metatech as the link popped and cracked between them.
 
The man’s sidearm had almost swung to bear on Mason as Mason’s fist connected with the man’s jaw.
 
The inductive taser loop in the gauntlet fired, and the man was spun back to the floor, sidearm falling away.

Mason turned towards the Reed man, the icon on his overlay for the suit’s taser system already back live and ready.
 
Reed’s weapon was pointed at Mason, and the man fired.
 
The impact rocked Mason back as the round hit his helmet, and he stepped back a pace.

His overlay flickered, replacing the
LOW THREAT
with
IMMEDIATE THREAT
.
 
A smile started to pull at his lips as Mason extended his free hand out in front of him towards Reed.
 
He lit the magnetic coils in the glove and the other man’s gun spun out of his hand, clattering against Mason’s palm.
 
The taps set into the bar groaned, and Mason felt himself being pulled towards the steel in them.
 
He clicked the coils off, Reed’s weapon dropping to the ground.

Overtime sloughed away, and Mason clicked on the PA system in his armor.
 
He swallowed the taste of oranges and almonds, then turned towards Haraway.
 
“Jenni Haraway, you are under investigation for theft of Apsel Federate technologies.
 
Under the termination clause in your contract, you are—”

“Please,” she said.
 
“You don’t understand.
 
They have—”

“—subject to assessment and revocation of that selfsame contract.”
 
Mason looked at Reed, then back to Haraway.
 
“Under the sub clause B of that same paragraph, if you’re found to have received monetary or other gain by brokering that technology to another agency, organization, or department, the termination clause can be deemed… final.”
 
Mason bent to pick up his fallen sub, then sighed.
 
“Gairovald is very, very angry, Jenni.”

She swallowed, flicking a glance at the sphere that hung in the air.
 
“Do you…
 
Do you know what this is?”

Mason lifted the sub, pointing it at her.
 
“I’d have to be honest and say I don’t really care.”
 
The Reed man had started to work his way along the bar, but made no move to interfere.
 
Mason let his suit track the man, keeping his attention on Haraway.
 
“Do you have any items to issue in your defense?”

“Yes,” she said, looking at her feet before looking back at Mason.
 
“This whole situation is sublime.”

“Mason,” said Carter, the link edged with static.

Haraway continued.
 
“It’s a full clusterfuck.”

“Mason,” said Carter.
 
“Shoot her.
 
Shoot her now.
 
The mission, Mason.”

“What you need to know is that I’m under a code of parlay.
 
The Federate knows.”
 
Haraway looked at Mason, as if able to see inside his visor.
 
“Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Mason,” said Carter.
 
“Mason, I’ve got…
 
Do not shoot Haraway.”

“Wait, what?” said Mason.
 
“I’ve got a bit of a situation here, Carter.”

“Gairovald is very explicit.
 
He’s said to extend Haraway every assistance.”

“Gairovald?”
 
Mason looked at the Reed man, then at Haraway.
 
“He said that?”

“New mission,” said Carter.
 
“New rules.
 
I just work here, ok?
 
No one tells me shit.
 
It just came through.
 
Extend all assistance to Haraway.”

“That’s it?
 
Extend all assistance?
 
What the blue fuck does that mean?”

“It means you gargle balls if you have to.
 
Get her out of there.”

Mason spoke over the PA system.
 
“There has been a development.”

“There has?” said Haraway.
 
She smoothed her hands against her pants.
 
“What kind of development?”

“Doctor, I’ve been asked to extend you every assistance.”
 
Mason swung the sub towards the Reed man.
 
“And you, asshole, need to stop moving around.”

Reed smiled at him, but stopped walking.
 
“Of course.”

Haraway looked at the sphere, then back to Mason.
 
“Ok.
 
What we need—”

Two figures stumbled from the sphere, a young man and a younger woman.
 
The girl was holding the boy up, and they collapsed to the ground.
 
Mason’s optics mapped over them, picking out —

Superficial wounds.
 
Starvation, most likely borderline malnutrition.
 
The boy has lesions —
 

— what the hell were they wearing?

“Jesus,” said Haraway.
 
“Jesus Christ.”

Mason looked at Haraway, then at the two on the floor.
 
“Orders, Haraway?
 
I need a mission statement.”

“Help them.
 
God, look at them.”

Mason nodded, stepping towards the two on the ground, boots crunching on broken glass.
 
The girl looked at him, then cowed away in fear.
 
A third person, a man, stepped through the sphere behind them.
 
Mason paused, and the man looked into Mason’s visor.

He said something, the language hard.
 
His overlay cycled,
NO LINGUISTIC MATCH
flashing in the corner of his vision.
 
The man’s hand raised into a fist.

Mason raised a sub at the man.
 
“Ok sparky, chill out.
 
You need to—”

The pain that flared in his skull was like nothing he’d felt before.
 
He cried out, falling to one knee, subs clattering to the ground beside him.
 
He grabbed the sides of his helmet, screaming as something red and angry pounded inside his skull.

The impact as Harry hit the street outside rocked the bar, windows exploding and glass shattering at the back of the bar.
 
The man in front of Mason stumbled, the pain gone.
 
Mason looked at the girl, his face right in front of hers, saw something scared in her eyes.

She said something,
NO LINGUISTIC MATCH
flashing again.
 
The man started to regain his balance, and the lattice pushed Mason to his feet, overtime falling into place around him.
 
The man looked at Mason, eyes wide with surprise.
 
He couldn’t make out a face, a wrap —
a keffiyeh? shemagh?
— covering everything below the eyes.

The pain hit again, but the lattice twisted and bunched against it.
 
Mason’s hand smashed out, connecting with the man’s jaw and the induction taser firing.
 
The pain dropped away as the man crumpled to the ground.
 
He stood looking down at the girl, just in time for Reed to smash the chair against his back.

The armor took the blow, but he took a step forward to catch his balance.
 
Mason turned his visor towards Reed, the blue of its eyepieces flaring.
 
Mason swung the a fist at the man’s face, but Reed ducked back and away.

Mason twisted his neck to the left and right, his spine cracking.
 
“That wasn’t very professional.”
 
He could hear Harry saying something outside, then the heavy sound of a coilgun firing, the bass rough edges of a plasma cannon mixed in against the noise.

Reed licked his lips, head tipped slightly towards the door.
 
It was hard to get a read on the man through the sunglasses.
 
“You’ve got no idea what you’ve got here.”
 
The words came over the link, the other man in overtime as well.
 
Something exploded out on the street, the firelight licking through the broken windows at the front of the bar, stitching tall fingers brief and bright against the ceiling.

Mason looked at the crate behind him, the Apsel falcon large on the side of it.
 
“Looks like it’s some of our shit, doesn’t it?”

“Mason,” said Carter.
 
“You need to destroy the crate and get Haraway out.”

“What about this guy?”

“It’s a remote.”
 
There wasn’t room in the stretched moment of overtime for much, but he was sure she was pissed about something.
 
“Do whatever you like.”

Mason dropped a knee to the floor, reaching a hand over his shoulder for the stock of the rifle.
 
Reed was already moving, running towards the bar, his steps looking slow against the overtime.

The rifle snapped out and over, Mason putting the stock against his shoulder, and he fired three shots.
 
Reed stumbled at the first, jerked and twisted at the second, and then fell at the third.
 
The body skidded across the concrete, a wet stain of red stretching behind it.

His lattice nudged at him, tired and sluggish.
 
He shrugged it off, but dropped the overtime, his mouth flooded with the taste of chocolate.
 
He racked the rifle again, then bent to pick up the subs.
 
He checked the weapons, the locked them in place against his belt.

Mason turned to look at the girl and boy at his feet.
 
The girl’s eyes were wide, her mouth open a little.
 
It looked like the boy — maybe more than a boy, a late teen — was out, unconscious or dead.
 
Not much you can do about either.
 
The mission
.

His feet crunched against the glass on the floor as he walked over the Haraway.
 
“We need to clear the area.”

“Mason Floyd.”
 
She looked at him, nodding.
 
“Help me pack this up.”

Mason laughed, the PA system roughing the edges of it.
 
“I’m not a porter.”

“But you’ve got to—”

“I’ve got to keep you breathing.
 
I’ve got to make sure Federate tech doesn’t fall into rival syndicate hands.
 
Pack your own bags.”

He saw her eyes widen just before he heard the sound, the intake of breath clear in a moment of silence from the street outside.
 
He spun around, in time to see Reed wrestling with the girl.
 
Reed had managed to pull the boy from her, and —

“You just don’t fucking die, do you?” said Mason.
 
He pulled one of the subs from his belt.
 
“You’re like some kind of zombie robot.”

The girl turned her head at Mason’s voice, and Reed pushed her away.
 
Her heel snagging against something, and she tumbled to the ground.

Reed held the boy in front of him, a smile pulling at his face.
 
Blood seeped around the edges of his lips, too bright.
 
“Low risk acquisitions, Apsel.
 
It’s the way of the future.”
 
His sunglasses had fallen away somewhere, the man’s eyes looking —
 

“What’s wrong with your eyes?”
 
Mason walked forward, squatting next to the girl.
 
He helped her up, then steered her behind him towards Haraway.
 
“Tech still a bit janky?”

Reed spat on the ground, red and wet.
 
“It’s not productionized yet.”

“You look cross-eyed.”
 
Mason shrugged.
 
“Whatever.
 
You’re not making it out that door.”

Reed shook the boy, the kids’ head loose on his shoulders.
 
Out like a light
.
 
“You going to stop me?
 
I got me a bit of quality bargaining capability here.”

“No,” said Mason.
 
“Harry’s going to stop you.”

“No he’s not,” said Reed.
 
“If I see that enforcer outside when I walk out there?
 
This kid’ll be turned into a set of parts.”

“Why do I care?”
 
Mason scanned the room.
 
Limited options
.

“I heard the doctor.
 
New mission, right Apsel?
 
This way, you still get to
try
and collect on your orders.
 
You won’t succeed, but you can give it your best shot.”
 
Reed started backing through the bar with the boy, edging towards the door at the front.

“Carter,” said Mason.
 
The link was still cluttered with static.
 
“Get Harry out.”

“On it,” she said, the link snapping like a flag in wind.
 
“How you going to play this?”