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Mason laughed.
 
He watched as Laia and Zach spoke to each other, the language bouncing back and forth between them something the overlay couldn’t identify.
 
She sounded —

She’s happy.
 
My God, she’s happy
.

“Before we go on…”
 
Mason stopped.
 
“I—”
 

“You want to know if I’m going to shoot you and leave your bodies to rot in a town that’s not on any maps.
 
Right?”

“Something like that.”

“You’d be dead already,” said Metatech.
 
“Seriously.
 
How did you people get an entire town to disappear?
 
Satnav says this is a forest ringing an industrial spill.”

“It’s almost true,” said Mason.
 
“I think…
 
There’s some things I think I should show you.
 
But one thing first.”

“Sure.
 
Shoot,” said Metatech.

Mason held out his hand, his palm up.
 
“Mason.
 
I’m Mason Floyd.
 
We haven’t been introduced.”

Metatech’s face cracked into a smile, perfect teeth showing through.
 
He reached out, grasping Mason’s hand, then turned his wrist so the handshake shake was upright.
 
Even.
 
Equals
.
 
“Mike.
 
Mike Takahashi.
 
It’s good to meet you, Mason Floyd.”

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

“It’s a package deal,” said Mason.
 
They were gathered around the table, radio on the top.
 
Metatech men had set up a small field kitchen behind them, and the smell of coffee laid around them like a familiar blanket.

“I’m not sure,” said Mike, “that you’re in the best position to negotiate.”

“Hey, fuck you guys,” said Sadie.
 
“I don’t get to have a say?”

“No,” said Mason and Mike together.
 
Mason spread his hands out in front of him, then continued, “It’s not like that.
 
It’s—”

“You want me to become a company robot?”
 
Sadie was frowning.
 
“What makes you think—”
 

“No,” said Mason, a smile pulling at his mouth.
 
“I don’t think the company needs a musician.”

“Exactly my point,” said Mike.
 
“We don’t need her.
 
We’re here for—”

Mason held up a hand.
 
“You’re here to offer me a job.”

“Maybe,” said Mike.
 
“Depends what’s on the table.”

“Let’s not play this game,” said Mason.
 
He leaned forward.
 
“You and me?
 
Let’s just…
 
Not today.”

Mike frowned across the small table, then lifted the pot.
 
“Another cup?”

“Your coffee sucks,” said Sadie.

The pot hit the table a little too hard.
 
Mike didn’t let go of the handle.
 
“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying,” she said.

“It’s true,” said Haraway.
 
There was something flat in her voice, arms crossed.

“You should drink more coffee,” said Sadie.

“I don’t feel like it,” said Haraway.
 
“I don’t feel like having more bad coffee.”
 
She looked over at Mason.

“Hey,” said Mike, “I don’t see you guys with any alternatives.
 
You don’t like my coffee?
 
Fine.
 
Don’t drink it.”

“She should drink it,” said Sadie, pointing at Haraway with her chin.

“I said—”

“Serotonin,” said Sadie.
 
“It’ll make you feel happier.”

“I don’t want to feel ‘happy,’” said Haraway.
 
“I want—”
 

“Were your parents siblings?
 
Jesus Christ,” said Sadie.
 
“We need you to have your A game here, Jenni.”

Haraway glared at her, but lifted her cup towards Mike.
 
“She’s right.
 
This really is bad.”

Mike blew out his cheeks, looking at Mason.
 
“Are they always like this?”

Mason nodded.
 
You have no idea
.
 
“Pretty much.”

“Hey—” said Sadie.

“That’s not fair—” said Haraway.

Mike held up a hand.
 
Mason narrowed his eyes a little, waiting.
 
“Musician’s in the package?
 
Ok, fine, whatever.
 
Here’s the deal.”
 
He raised his fingers, counting as he spoke.
 
“One.
 
We get exclusive access to the girl.
 
Two, we—”

“She’s not a cow,” said Sadie.

“What?”

“Or a chicken, or something,” she said.
 
“She’s a fourteen-year-old kid.
 
You don’t get to trade people.”

Mason watched as Mike looked down at his hands, then flexed his shoulders.
 
“Can I finish?

“Sure,” said Sadie.

“Two, we—”

“It’s just that you’re talking like she’s a piece of property, and we agreed that wouldn’t happen.”
 
She looked over at Mason.

Mike cleared his throat.
 
“Two, we sign employment contracts for all of you.
 
Under the Syndicate Compact, that gives you some protection.”

“Because assault on one of us will be considered a violation of the Compact,” said Haraway.
 
“It’s a good idea.
 
Still.
 
You’ve got a wrinkle you’ll need to work out.”

“What’s the wrinkle?”
 
Mike looked over at her.

“Neither of them are citizens.”
 
Haraway swirled coffee around in her cup.

Mason said, “That’s true.
 
They won’t be protected by the Compact.”

“You know that,” said Mike.
 
“I know that.
 
Does Apsel?”

“How could they not know?” said Sadie.
 
“It was their devil gate that got them here.”

Mason grinned.
 
“No.
 
He’s onto something.”
 
He slapped the top of the radio.
 
“Carter?
 
You there?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“I wondered because you weren’t saying anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mason paused.
 
“It’s just that—”

“Are you trying to be funny or something?
 
Because you’re not funny.”

“I’m—”

“Besides,” said Carter.
 
“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” said Mason.

“My fucking
nails
, Floyd.”
 
The radio crackled for a second.
 
“Oh, and keeping you assholes alive.”

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

Mason stood looking out over the street.
 
His eyes picked out leaves being tossed by the gentle wind.
 
His optics mapped the scene, trying to find something to latch on to.
 
He switched off the overlay.

“Mason?”

He turned.
 
“What?
 
Sorry.”

Haraway tilted her head.
 
“We lost you for a second there.”

“Yeah,” he said.
 
He turned to look back out over the street, and his eyes caught movement up the road.
 
Laia and the other kid.
 
Zacharies
.
 
They were walking together, just talking.
 
He left the gain down on the audio so they could have their privacy.
 
They’re probably not speaking English anyway
.
 
“I was just…
 
Never mind.
 
What was it?”

“I said, I think I’ve got another wrinkle.”

He shrugged, tossed a glance at Mike.
 
“What is it?”

“We need to get into Reed.”
 
She looked down at her hands.

“Reed?
 
Why the…
 
Why?”
 
Mason turned, took a step back towards the table.
 
“They’re assholes.”

“Mike here,” and Haraway jerked a thumb at him, “came up with a showstopper.”

“Negotiating,” said Mike.
 
“It’s called negotiating.”

“It’s…
 
Sure,” she said.
 
“He wants the gate tech.”

“The devil hole to another world?” said Sadie.
 
“Why’s that a problem?”

“We don’t have it,” said Haraway.
 
“We need to get it.”

“Wait,” said Mason.
 
“You have it.
 
You used it.”

“Yeah,” said Haraway.
 
“Back at the grunge bar.”

“Hey,” said Sadie.

“It’s true,” said Haraway.
 
“It’s a grunge bar.
 
Not grungy.
 
I meant the kind of music.”

"That’s right,” said Mason.
 
“I dropped a grenade into the box.”

“Right action at the time, I’ll give you that,” said Haraway, “but longer term it’s provided a bit of spice.”

“I play…
 
My music isn’t grunge,” said Sadie.
 
“It’s more freeform.”

“Have you looked at yourself?” said Haraway.
 
“The black.
 
The eyeliner.
 
The leather.”

“Sure,” said Sadie.
 
“I like black.
 
Who doesn’t?”

“The thing is,” said Mike, “we want that asset.”

“The bar?”
 
Sadie frowned.
 
“Why do you want the bar?”

“No,” said Mike.
 
“We want the gate.”

“It’s nice to want things,” said Mason.
 
“I want a real coffee, just as a simple example.”

“I said if you didn’t like the coffee—”
 

“The real problem,” said Haraway, “is that Reed probably has the box.”

Mike nodded.
 
“They locked down the scene pretty tight after you dropped a total conversion on both our teams.”

“One sec,” said Mason.
 
“We were engaged in a retrieval—”

“Bygones,” said Mike.
 
“I wasn’t trying to get you excited.
 
It’s just a point of…
 
It’s just some history.”

Mason stared at him for a second.
 
“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”
 
He turned away from the table.
 
“The thing is, we figured you guys would try to take it.
 
That’s why Harry was—”

“I know,” said Mike.
 
“Bygones.
 
It’s not even a factor in the contract.”

“Thing is, we don’t have the box,” said Mason.

“Do you know what’s inside the box?”
 
Mike looked at Haraway.
 
“If you saw one, would you recognize it?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Right,” said Mike.
 
“So, Haraway’s plan was to bust into Reed and get the box back.”

“The box full of broken junk,” said Mason.
 
“The one that I dropped a grenade into.”

“Sure,” said Mike.
 
“That box.”

“You want a box full of broken junk?”

“Reed will have been trying to fix it,” said Haraway.
 
“They’ll be working on it.”

“That’d be tricky, right?” said Sadie.
 
“I mean, I’m not a rocket scientist—”

“Clearly,” said Haraway.

“—but I know that you can’t just take a box of junk and make a devil gate.”
 
She glared at Haraway.

“Doesn’t matter if they’ve fixed it or not,” said Mike.
 
“We want the bits in the box.
 
The box, plus Haraway, equals an odds decent chance of getting it rebuilt.”

“Fair enough,” said Mason.
 
“Why don’t we get a working box from Apsel?”

Haraway nodded.
 
“It’s a good question.
 
It’s—”

“Apsel make the box, right?,” said Mason.
 
I mean, it’s from your division, Jenni.”

“Not really.”

“Not really?”

“The research was mothballed.
 
In storage.”

“You’re telling me that a piece of tech that opens doorways to another world has been sitting in
storage
?” he said.
 
“That no one knows about it?”

“Someone knows,” said Haraway.
 
“Gairovald knows.”

Mason blinked.
 
“We need to take a break.”

“What?” said Sadie.
 
“This is just getting interesting.”

“Yeah—” said Mike.

“Please.
 
Clear out,” said Mason.
 
“Not you, Haraway.
 
You stay
right there
.
 
We need to finish our talk.”

“I’m not sure you understand the situation,” said Julian.
 
“This really isn’t the best approach.”
 
He breathed through the synthetic, feeling the lattice alive around him in a way that it wasn’t in his own skin.

“He’s got to understand,” said the man in the white coat.
 
“He’s asking for miracles.”

Julian looked at the other man.
 
His overlay spat out a name.
 
Simmons.
 
Head of Special Projects
.
 
“Simmons?”

“Yeah?”

“I really don’t think he gives a fuck,” said Julian.
 
“He’s not real patient.
 
You get me?”