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“But—”

“The problem, Mr. Eckers, is that we’ve paid a lot and have nothing to show for it.
 
Reed Interactive is not the most militaristic of the syndicates, I know that.
 
We deal in soft services.”

“It wasn’t—”

“But rest assured, Bernie — may I call you Bernie?
 
Rest assured, Bernie, that we will either have what we’ve paid for, or you will never be seen again.”
 
Julian flicked a speck of dust from the sleeve of his suit, then bent closer to Eckers.
 
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

Eckers sneezed, and Julian drew back a bit.
 
Old flesh habits died hard; it’s not like the remote could catch anything from Eckers.

“I been trying to tell these assholes,” said Eckers, a nod of his head towards the small group around him.
 
“We were set up.”

“Apsel knew,” said Julian.
 
“They knew, and they sent a recovery team.”

“Hey, that’s not on me.”
 
Eckers stood up, waving an arm around the bar.
 
“Look what they did to my place.
 
That shit’s on you.”
 
He pointed a finger and Julian’s chest.

Julian looked down at the finger, then back at Eckers’ face.
 
“It’s on us?
 
I’m interested to see where you’re going with this.”

“I know who I told about this meet,” said the fat man.
 
“I told you two assholes.
 
You and that other clown, from—”

“Metatech.
 
You told us and Metatech.”

“Yeah,” said Eckers.
 
“So the leak’s with you.”

“That’s an interesting theory,” said Julian.
 
“I have another theory.
 
Would you like to hear it?”

“Whatever,” said Eckers, shrugging his shoulders.
 
“You got a smoke?”

Julian offered the pack of Camels to the man, then lit one for him.
 
“Ok, Bernie.
 
Here’s my theory.
 
You told Reed and Metatech that you had Apsel tech to sell.”

“Yeah,” said Eckers, “because I did.”

“Sure,” said Julian, spreading his hands.
 
“But what if — and this is hypothetical, of course — but what if you only
pretended
to have Apsel tech to sell.”

Eckers looked over his cigarette at him.
 
“I’m not sure I follow, company man.”

“What if,” said Julian, “this was all a pretty interesting ruse from Apsel.
 
To take out some rival syndicate resources, to create a diversion?”

“A diversion?” said Eckers.
 
“Have you seen my fucking bar?”

“Yes,” said Julian.
 
“I’ve also seen a set of assets destroyed on the street.
 
You understand my position, surely?”

The fat man took a pull on the cigarette, then took it from his mouth and waved it at Julian.
 
“Your position?
 
You think this was a diversion.
 
For what?”

Julian reached forward, tangling his fingers through the front of Eckers’ jacket, pulling the fat man closer.
 
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
 
He brought a foot in behind Eckers’ ankle, sweeping the man to the floor.
 
The breath shot out of the fat man, and Julian grabbed a chair.
 
He brought it up and over, slamming the legs down around Eckers’s shoulders, one of the cross struts of the chair pressed down on the man’s throat.

Julian straddled the chair, looking down at Eckers while the man thrashed and spasmed under him.
 
He took a pull from his Camel, then blew the smoke out into the air above him.
 
“Bernie, there’s two ways this is going to go.”

Eckers continued to thrash under him, the veins on his neck standing out.
 
He made gagging noises.

“See, Bernie, the two ways are like this.
 
First way, I find out what’s going on here, and you and I part as friends.
 
Comrades in action, with a common story to tell our kids.”
 
Julian pulled on his cigarette again, thinking for a moment.
 
“The second way is only good for one of us.
 
I leave here, with an unpleasant story to tell my kids.
 
You leave here in a box, and no one cries at your funeral, because they don’t even know you’ve died.
 
You just disappear.”
 
Julian punctuated this by pushing his hands out in front of him in the air, then leaned his head towards Eckers again.
 
The man’s lips were starting to go blue.
 
“Am I being fairly clear?”

Someone to Julian’s right spoke, but he didn’t understand the words.
 
NO LINGUISTIC MATCH
read out on his overlay, and he turned his head.
 
The third person who’d come through the sphere, the one with the shemagh, had woken up.
 
He was looking at Julian, as if he expected him to say something.

“You’re in luck, Bernie,” said Julian.
 
“I’ve got someone else to talk to as well.
 
I’ll need to share my attention between the two of you.”
 
He got up off the chair, pulling it from Eckers’ throat, and the fat man gasped in whooping lungfuls of air, then retched on the ground.

Julian turned to the other man.
 
“Hi,” he said.
 
“I’m a representative from Reed Interactive, and we’re quite curious about the events of this evening.”

The other man stood, wrapping the shemagh around his face, then looked at Julian.
 
He said something else, the words — what, angry?
 
Commanding?

Flicking his cigarette butt away, Julian nodded.
 
“I understand.
 
You’re confused.
 
You don’t know why the evening turned out this way.
 
In that regard, we’re in the same boat.
 
Ships at sea, if you like.”

The man took a step towards Julian, his eyes narrowing.
 
He said something short and sharp, his breath puffing the front of the shemagh.
 
He raised a hand.

Julian tipped his head sideways.
 
Curious
.
 
He offered the pack of Camels to the man.
 
The other man’s eyes widened, surprise or shock.

“You don’t smoke?”
 
Julian shrugged, taking a Camel from the pack in his lips and lighting it.
 
He drew on the cigarette, then blew the smoke into the other man’s face.
 
“You should give it a try.”

The other man blinked rapidly, then coughed, taking a step back.
 
The rain howled outside, gusts slapping water in through the windows, droplets scattering inside.
 
A couple of techs swore, wiping water from hair and jackets.
 
Julian ignored them, watching as the man raised his hand up.

“I don’t think—” said Eckers, then started screaming.

It wasn’t just Eckers.
 
Men and women around the room stopped what they were doing, screaming, clawing at their heads.
 
Julian looked around him, then back at the man in front of him.

The man’s eyes were savage, but widened when they saw Julian still standing in front of him.

“Ah,” said Julian.
 
“You didn’t expect that, did you?”
 
He listened for a moment to the screaming around him, then curled a hand into a fist and slammed it into the man’s stomach in front of him.
 
The man dropped like a sack of meal, the air going out of him.
 
Julian pulled on the cigarette again, then raised a foot and stamped it down on one of the man’s hands, the one he’d raised into a fist.
 
There was a crunching sound, and the man shouted out in pain.

Julian leaned forward.
 
“You see, I’m not really here.
 
Whatever meat-based shit you’re trying to pull?
 
We’ll work it out.
 
It’s just the kind of tech Reed is very interested in.
 
But first?
 
It’s time for some education.”

“Sir,” said a tech, behind him.

Julian turned on the man, annoyed.
 
“I’m working.”

“Yes, sir,” said the tech.
 
“But they’re not.”
 
The man jerked a thumb back over his shoulder at a group who were supposed to be working near one of the windows.
 
Julian looked above them at the cracked glass and open windows, then back down.

Three men, two women.
 
All were standing, dumb as stones.
 
More curious
.
 
Julian turned to the tech, pulling out his sidearm.
 
“Clear the room.”

“Sir?”

“The room.
 
Clear it.”

The tech nodded, people already moving, orders passing over the link.
 
People moved to the front door of the building and outside, huddling in jackets against the rain.

Julian walked over to the five men and women near the window.
 
“Hey, assholes,” he said.
 
“You’re not getting paid by the hour.
 
Get back to work.”

None of them moved, and Julian walked closer.
 
Their eyes were blank, lifeless, staring into space.
 
He raised a hand in front of one woman’s face, waving it.
 
Her eyes didn’t track.

One of the men to his left twitched, then his eyes looked at Julian.
 
He raised hands, grabbing at Julian, but the lattice pulled Julian aside.
 
He raised his sidearm, and shot the man in the face.
 
The body dropped.

The other four shook to life, their heads turning like one to face Julian.
 
They started to shamble forward.
 
“Eckers,” said Julian.

Eckers was standing behind the other man, across the room.
 
“You know how I said the rain was in the box?”

“Yeah,” said Julian, pushing one of the women back.
 
He hated shooting women.
 
It had a small but statistically relevant negative effect on his bonus.
 
Still
.
 
He raised the sidearm again, shooting twice, once into each leg.
 
She dropped without a sound, but tried to claw across the ground towards him.

Best keep one of the men alive too for examination.
 
He shot one of the men twice, taking out his legs, then eyed up the other two.
 
Shrugging, he shot them each once in the head, their bodies dropping.

Julian walked back towards Eckers and the man from the sphere.
 
“That was unexpected,” he said, leaning down over the man with the shemagh.
 
The cloth had fallen free, showing all of the man’s face.
 
“What did you do to my people, asshole?”

The man on the ground grinned up at him through the pain of his broken hand, saying something.
 
NO LINGUISTIC MATCH
flashed up again.
 
“For crying out loud,” said Julian.

That’s when he heard the sound outside, someone yelling in alarm, then a woman’s scream.
 
There was a shot, then another, followed by the bass roar of a plasma weapon.

Julian looked at Eckers.
 
“Don’t move.
 
I’m going to check this out.”

“Sure,” said Eckers, looking at the man on the ground, then massaging his throat.
 
“Sure.”

Julian walked to the door, opening it into the rain that lashed the street outside.
 
The men and women of his team were clawing at each other, the rain slicking down around them.
 
The wind howled, and Julian saw someone near a vehicle with a plasma weapon firing it into the press of chaos around him.

Looking behind him at the man on the ground, Julian stepped out into the rain.
 
He raised his sidearm, shooting the man with the plasma cannon in the head.
 
The lattice pulled him to the left sharp and sudden, and blast from a shotgun hitting the wall behind where he’d been standing.
 
He stepped out onto the street, raising his sidearm.

He kept firing until his weapon ran dry, then ejected the clip, slapping another one in place.
 
He grabbed at a someone who ran at him, the man gibbering and screaming into his face, fingers raking like claws.
 
Julian ignored it, the skin of the remote unmarked, and threw the man away back into the press of bodies.

He keyed his uplink.

“I’m going to need another team,” he said.
 
“And a psych unit.”
 
He turned away from the madness on the street and walked back into the bar, locking the door behind him.

The man on the floor saw him, and started to grin at Julian.
 
The grin fell away as Julian stepped wet footprints across the floor.
 
He reached for the chair.

“We’ve got us about ten minutes until the second team arrives,” he said, lifting the other man upright, putting him into the chair.
 
“Let’s see whether we can find some common ground in that time, shall we?”

The light stabbed at her eyes, almost a physical thing.
 
Sadie wanted to throw up, constant motion jarring her.
 
She was in a — what, a car?
 
A van?
 
The feeling of nausea rose powerful and sudden, and she almost retched.