The late-morning sun filters through a haze of gray clouds as Ash and I work out in a small courtyard behind an old dry-cleaning shop. Faded lettering on the crumbling walls advertise “Same Day Service!” and “Best Prices!”

Above us, Zara’s silhouette moves across the edge of the roof, her binoculars scanning the area. She’d rolled her eyes when I asked her to come, but I caught her suppressing a smile. I can tell she thinks Ash wanted to get me alone.

Ash is using Zara’s baton to practice Seraph’s nachreisen drill, and after a couple dozen reps, he steps back to take a breather, though I notice he’s got no sweat on his white jumpsuit.

“I think I got it,” he says. “We have something similar called following. I’ve only pulled it off once in a real fight. I don’t usually react fast enough. For me, it works better if I try it after my opponent takes a big swing and a miss.”

I nod. “That makes sense. Now you show me something. I want to learn some of that Griffin-Fu.”

“Absolutely, Jade. But anything I show you needs to stay inside the team.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” I say, giving him a mock salute.

He puts the baton down on a counter and draws his plasma knife.

“Now, we’re talking,” I say in excitement.

“Easy, tiger, I’m not going to turn it on. But I will show a technique for it. Fighting with plasma changes everything. It’s mind-blowing what this thing can do. Any parry can be turned into an attack. Let me show you.”

I nod, excited at the prospect of getting my hands on one of the most badass weapons in the Southland, even if I can’t turn it on.

“Okay, put away your baton. For now, you’re just going to swing a slow blow at my head with an imaginary baton. A diagonal strike from above.”

As I carry out the mock attack, Ash steps to his right and swings the knife upward, as if to parry the blow.

“I’ve only got seven inches of blade to work with,” he explains, “so I have to be precise. But at this measure, I’ve just cut your baton in two, then I can thrust to your face. But in closer measure, I’d have taken your hand off.”

I try to puzzle out the move. “Hold on, won’t the top half of my baton hit you anyway, even if it gets cut off?”

“Nope,” he explains. “I passed offline to the right, and the free end of any weapon that’s severed does not continue to follow the original arc, it flies off in a straight line from where it was cut. That’s the physics of it.”

“Far out,” I muse. “Now let me try.”

He hands me the plasma blade. “Just don’t hit the safety and power switches.”

“Gotcha,” I respond, smiling as I hold the weapon. The handle is thick and surprisingly heavy, suggesting it’s powered by a microreactor. Most Xeno tech uses dedicated MRs. The concept of batteries, for whatever reason, was unknown to them. Fission batteries are hybrid tech designed for human devices.

We run through the drill, slowly at first, then faster and faster, with Ash randomizing his timing on the swings with the imaginary baton. After a while, it’s child’s play to land blows that would take off his hand.

He shakes his head and whistles, indicating an end to the drill. “Your speed. Your anticipation. I’ve never seen anything like it. You been hitting the radout?”

I look away from his piercing blue eyes, feeling caught out. “What do you mean?” I ask lamely.

“Jade,” he says, voice dropping so Zara can’t overhear. “Your ears.”

I shake my head, not comprehending. “You mean my hearing?”

“No,” he responds, pointing to my left ear. “Your actual ears. They’re getting a little…pointed.”

I gasp in shock, feeling up to where my left ear is poking out of my wig, just below my helmet. Sure enough, the top of my ear isn’t as round as it used to be.

“Fuck,” is all I can think to say as tears fill my eyes.

This beautiful man standing before me knows I’m becoming an animal, and soon, everyone will know. My problems taking Shag are nothing compared to this. I’ll probably never have sex again. Might as well become a nun.

Ash, irritatingly calm, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Jade, this happens to lots of people. And while there’s no cure for radout mutation, you still have an option.”

“Option?” I say through the tears, clinging to his words like a lifeline. “You mean, besides Hollydale?”

Ash nods. “Griffith has suppression drugs that will prevent the growth of fur, horns, scales, those sorts of things. And Director Hampton will want to help. She’s taken an interest in you.”

Scales? Holy shit, I forgot about the scales. I remember seeing them on the fish-eyed spokesmutant in the yellow bathrobe.

Suddenly, I’m feeling queasy. What if I become dependent on these suppression drugs? What if Hampton uses them to control me? Man, that’s no kind of life.

Suddenly, I hear a boot step on broken glass, and I spin around, expecting to see a Soviet in rad armor.

But there’s no one there.

I process my memory of the sound and realize it’s probably a lot farther away than I thought.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper to Ash.

He shakes his head as he switches on his blaster armor, then motions for Zara to join us.

She climbs down from the wall and retrieves her baton. “What’s up?” she whispers.

“Did you see or hear anyone?” I say, pointing in the direction of the noise I heard.

Zara shakes her head grimly, taking out her .22.

Ash grabs his M16, which had been propped against the counter.

It’s a huge relief they both believe me, even though they didn’t hear the sound.

“It’s too soon for the perimeter patrol to be coming through again,” I whisper. “We had better check it out.”

Zara appears skeptical about investigating. But Ash is raring to go.

“Let’s just see what we’re dealing with, and then we’ll report it,” I assure Zara. “No fighting without the whole team here.”

She reluctantly nods. “Fine then. Based on where you’re pointing, they could be traveling on Robertson. Come on, I know a three-story concrete building with a great view of that area.”

I nod, drawing my skull-handled .44. Not that it would be much good against rad armor.

☢

Having holstered our weapons for now, we crouch atop Zara’s concrete building. We’re at the edge of the Downtown mod zone, so the bigger buildings here have survived largely intact.

Zara peers through her binoculars at a lone, hooded figure moving south on Robertson.

“Can you tell who it is?” Ash asks her.

Zara shakes her head.

“It’s Lily,” I announce. I can tell by the way she moves.

Then suddenly, the hooded figure makes a quick glance back.

“Yup,” says Zara. “She’s got the right hair.”

“Why would she be traveling out here alone?” Ash asks.

I frown. “Because she’s up to something.”

I feel an important decision coming on. I want to follow Lily and find out what she’s up to. But there are risks involved. I’m not even supposed to be out here with this skeleton crew. Plus, what if Lily’s not up to something? What if she’s running an errand for Greenaway, or on some other legit business? Man, that would get me exiled for sure.

On the other hand, with these pointy ears, my shelf-life at Bodhi Tree can be measured in days. So, what the fuck?

“We gotta follow her,” I announce.

Zara shakes her head. “Come on, Jade. You said we’d report back.”

“Yeah, but this is different,” I insist. “This isn’t the Soviets. And we can’t report anything about Lily. That will just piss off Greenaway, her new girlfriend.”

Zara raises an eyebrow. “I think I would know if—”

“—I’m speaking metaphorically, alright?” I say, cutting her off. “Now come on, Lily’s getting away.”

I hurry toward the stairs leading down, not checking to see if the other two follow me.

☢

Zara ranges ahead as we follow Lily, being careful to stay out of view as she heads south on Robertson.

She crosses Beverly, and a couple of blocks down, turns left on Third Street.

Already, I suspect where she’s going.

Ash and I pause behind a gas station at the corner of 3rd and Robertson, and wait for Zara to report back.

After a few minutes, she returns, giving me the news I expected.
“She went into one of the big buildings at Cedars-Sinai,” Zara explains. “I think she’s been onto us the whole time. The place is huge. We’ll never find her in there, and it has too many exits for us to cover with only three people. This is it, Jade, we have to go back.”

“But—” I start before Ash cuts me off.

“—She’s right, Jade. Let’s not get target fixation. For all we know, she’s got a good reason for being there. And if she doesn’t, she could have friends inside. I agree we can’t take this to Greenaway, but maybe you could tell Seraph?”

I grumble, seeing I’ve been outvoted. Why is it that no one wants to strike while the iron is hot?

Suddenly, my skin prickles as the world slows down. Pure instinct takes over.

“Cover!” I shout.

I dive behind a concrete pillar as Ash’s blaster armor fires, intercepting a bullet in mid-air. The gunshot echoes off the buildings, making it impossible to pinpoint the shooter’s location.

Then I hear it—the distinctive whine of fission bikes. Not one or two, but many, converging on our position from all four directions. The sound grows louder as they appear at both ends of Robertson and Third Street, their riders dressed in mismatched armor, two people to a bike, with the rear rider carrying a riot shield.

“Psychos!” I call out.

“They’re way outside their territory,” Ash notes, his armor humming.

“They’re here for me. For the bounty.” My throat tightens at the thought.

“This way!” Zara gestures toward an alley behind the gas station. We sprint after her, ducking into the entrance of a massive parking structure serving Cedars-Sinai.

The bikes circle like vultures, the whine of their engines echoing off concrete as they cover every exit.

We take a defensive position inside the little office of a toll booth station.

I hear someone shouting out from behind a concrete pillar near the entrance, a rough voice that freezes my blood.