Changeling Part 117: Paradigm Shift (Patreon)

AN: I SENT THE WRONG PDF AND EPUB BY MISTAKE SO I AM REUPLOADING MB SORRY

Her dad led Nestra to another part of the suite rather than outside, both for security reasons and because the suite was so unreasonably large. They ended up in a private conference room with the full remote corporate package in case she wanted to call Buenos Aires. Nestra glanced at the coffee machine.

“Coffee?” Her dad suggested.

They wordlessly approached the high-tech apparatus, then tapped on various options. Her father leaned against the counter while the coffee brewed. Nestra was still in her true form, making him shorter than her, but also considerably broader. This and the reliable dad aura dissipated some of her anxiety as she picked up on the calm he exuded. He only talked when they both held steaming cups. His voice was unusually slow, like it was being dragged out.

“I need to tell you about something so I can explain what I want to explain, so bear with me. We’d just met with your mom and aunt when the Incursion happened. We awakened during a music festival with dozens of others, fending off dokkaebi with crowbars.”

He breathed. Nestra knew about the music festival, of course, but no one had ever mentioned crowbars.

“We seldom talk about those times because they were shite, Nestra. It was a slog, a long slog filled with blood and regret. We knew so little then. We had to learn absolutely everything from scratch, and a lot of us paid for that knowledge with their lives. What I am trying to say is that we lost a lot of friends over a long period of time. A very long period of time with no breaks and no relief because we knew taking a day off meant dozens of people dragged from their houses because of a breach. We held the line while people scrambled to build fortresses, mass-produce guns and so on. Before we could even stabilize, Riel called for volunteers to face the lizard war parties. We traveled around jumping tribes with superior numbers. I think I mentioned Alan and Tess?”

“You never said much about them,” Nestra replied, remembering fragments of conversations overheard from across the house.

“They died to spears. That’s all I say about it. I… we lost more than half of the group. I was there when they died. All of them. And we were luckier than the baselines. We were… we were not facing a catastrophe, Nes. We were facing extinction.”

He paused, eyes glazing over and coffee forgotten.

“After Riel saved us all, we fell on the remaining lizards with a lot of anger, but while we were mopping up, the world was already collapsing. It was too late to restore the old order. So we rushed again to the new continent hoping to prevent another invasion. We got funding from visionaries squeezing the last pennies out of collapsing financial and corporate juggernauts, or from grateful people. All of this, we did in order to secure the future, and still the world was out of building material. Obviously. We came here with the fires of urgency, raided portals and got what we needed locally. You had strength gleams carrying a ton of ore out of portals every minute. We cannibalized entire fleets of cargo ships. It was a mad rush to build Threshold, one where we were fighting and building. And then, after ten years of constant grind, it was done. The city was secure. Well, as secure as it was going to be without a central surveillance system, a massive artillery park and the constant threat of kaiju. But basically, we were finally safe-ish.”

Her dad drank some of the coffee. A metal spoon on the nearby table started to shift, its length forming hypnotic patterns with a liquid grace no low-flow material should be able to achieve. And he wasn’t even paying attention.

“And we panicked. Claire was the worst of us. She kept patrolling, flying through the sky in her armor and turning entire strips of the surrounding forests to shreds. We were not the only ones. People spent their days hunting for stray portals. We were not that layered then, mind you, so finding those was not yet difficult. We were restless. A spooked hive. It took us collectively… I think three months before realizing we didn’t need an extended patrol roster to go even farther. We just needed to calm down. But we couldn’t do it. Not at first. It took a very long time for us to just… stop.”

Nestra grabbed her cup with tense fingers.

“If you focus on a goal for so long and so hard that it becomes your entire life, when you accomplish that goal, you won’t accept it. You cannot. Your mind just cannot find the switch off button, and this is even worse when pursuing a nebulous purpose such as ‘protecting mankind from extinction’ because you don’t have a quantifiable measurement to decide that yes, finally, humanity is saved.”

“Oh…”

She knew where he was going with this.

“Nestra, how long have you been trying to protect mankind from your own people?”

Nestra moved a hand over her gray hair, between the horns. 

“I don’t know. Since I found out, I guess? But I’ve only been working on it full time for a bit over nine months, my time. ”

“Nestra, that is a long time for something with such stakes.”

She could only stay silent for a while.

“And yet I will state it anyway. You have done all you could. Now it’s up to the political leaders of this place to do what they do best: compromise and find an agreement. I guarantee you: things are looking well so far. Moon Dancer has much interest in what we are in a unique position to offer while the rest of the — what did she call it? — the many worlds, yes. The many worlds are filled with interesting prey, but few civilizations will offer spa and a cappuccino to an unmasked Aszhii. Or citizenship. Or internet access, and the collective minds of a hundred thousand cash-starved researchers.”

“Ok. I already accept it in my brain,” Nestra noted.

There was a pause.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “Accept it in your heart?”

“First stop trying to keep track all the time. Repeat to yourself that if you’re needed, you’ll be called. Second, find another project. What do you want?”

That one was easy.

“I want to check on everyone and have a good time. Oh, and use publicity to expand the Little People League. And also get that Cooking with Crescent started again.”

“We found that building a ‘clan’ worked for us. And time, of course. It will take time no matter what.”

He patted her shoulder.

“You did good kiddo. Take a breather. Meet your friends. Relax. If only for a few days.”

“Oh alright. I’ll try.”

Her dad left the room first, and Nestra found herself realizing that for the first time, really, she felt like ‘one of them’. Not a member of the family: she had always been that despite difficult moments — many of those caused by her own stubborn pride. She was one of the experienced raiders: those who’d faced a campaign, not just a battle. One a first gen could relate to. It made her inordinately proud.

“Wait that’s a trap. I need to watch out for hubris.”

***

An armored hovercar dropped Nestra, Helena, and Grook in her heavenly mask on the Four Prosperities Stadium’s helipad. Dozens of drones and three gunships Nestra could see circled the skies over the well-lit venue. Army gleams in magitech gear formed a protective circle around them. A cadre of B-class in battle armor led her down the corridor, commanded by a short and swarthy captain with an earth affinity. The walls pulsed every time he took a step. Distant news drones hovered at the edge of her vision, unable to approach. This was the mother of all VIP treatments. Nestra was finally experiencing the kind of wealth money couldn’t buy.

But the massive security ticked her off.

“Should I be concerned?” Nestra asked the man leading them.

She winced when she realized what she’d done. That wasn’t letting go, but her dad was right. It would just take some time. 

“Did you bet on Ma Wenli?”

“The… the contestant? No.”

“Then no, no need for concerns.”

It took her a good second to realize this was a joke.

“We’re not taking any chances, Palladian. This is us looking like we’re not taking any chances, and letting the world know not to even think about it. I’ll be babying you lot so sit back, relax, and have a few coldies.”

“You… don’t mind?”

He gave her a look like she was stupid.

“I don’t mind being a base bodyguard for the first official alien delegation to Threshold, half of whom are A-class? No, Palladian, I don’t mind being part of history on the winners’ side. Sure beats the alternative.”

“Ok.”

The corridors grew more decorated with every security gate they crossed until they reached high-end hotel level. Nestra spotted elite corpo enforcers outside of the army perimeter as a sort of extra protection on top of her fuck-off protection. They wore the white and red of BaiRiMeng, the entertainment megacorp and a group Nestra had barely ever interacted with on account of finding her own entertainment the hard way. The escort let in a luxuriously decorated room complete with sofas, a bar, a coffee machine and a buffet of small hors d’oeuvres that looked expensive and hopefully tasted the same. Miu the shield specialist was there alongside Albert, Helena’s Blasian boyfriend. Camille stood overlooking the pit like a gender-ambiguous evil overperson surveying their sinful empire. Nestra was going to tease them for it later. Her surprise came from a shy baseline teen with glasses, and a cute androgynous gleam man with silver hair and electric eyes. He nodded at her while his bespectacled companion stared really hard at the ground. Nestra was still in human form though, so she didn’t know why he would be scared. Or maybe it was because of Grook who immediately glued herself to the window — a moth drawn to the flame. Before Nestra could decide how to untangle that social puzzle, Helena rode to the rescue.

“That’s Johannes, our newly hired treasurer,” she said, pointing at the baseline and only then did Nestra realize he had a freshly installed implant. The skin around it was still a bit red.

Johannes mumbled something that might have been greetings.

“Nice to meet you Johannes but you’ll have to speak up. We don’t bite.”

“Lies,” Helena whispered.

Nestra did her best big sister glare. It had no effect. Nevertheless, Johannes did gather his courage.

“Nice to meet you. And to be working for you, founder. We should go over the accounts later, if you have the time.”

Nestra almost refused because she was so busy, but not checking accounts as an actual guild leader was begging for a lawsuit later. She regretfully agreed. Then her gaze traveled to the other one.

“And that’s Sylph Young. I’ll let him explain what he’s doing here. Basically he handles procurement and marketing.”

“Marketing?” Nestra asked, frowning.

Sylph stood, moving to one of the tables without looking back. Nestra gave Helena a questioning glance.

“He’s corpo to the nails, but you’ll want to listen to him. I think he makes a lot of sense.”

Nestra frowned. The purpose of the Little People League had always been to be specifically ‘not corpo’. She might as well have hired a trash spider to guard a warehouse.

“Ok, I’ll listen.”

Nestra joined him. Sylph calmly gave her a cocktail that smelled quite nice. Very fruity, yet the taste wasn’t overly sweet as she’d feared. This got her attention.

“You wanted to talk?” Nestra asked.

“Yes. Presentations first. I contacted your sister and volunteered my service because the ranks of the Little People League swelled massively after your departure. For reference, you’ve got over five hundred members now.”

“What?” Nestra exclaimed. “Really?”

“Do not be so surprised. People looked into your profile after you left. Your background with law enforcement…”

Sylph paused, closing his eyes for a second.

“I need to focus. In essence, your cause gathered a great many young raiders eager to prove themselves while engaging in activism. League membership being non-exclusive, it allowed a great many students to improve their resume before applying to more prestigious positions, which is what you were going for, I imagine?”

“It was never meant to be a full time activity,” Nestra confirmed.

“Yes. Volunteer work. Now, you may not realize it, but the league has had a massively positive impact on the city’s raiding scene. You made sewer-diving glamorous, so a lot of people would just do it for bragging rights. This, in turn, freed a lot of more experienced teams for valuable resource extraction that would have otherwise been wasted due to a lack of manpower. You can see the butterfly effect. All corps see this youth league in a very positive light.”

“Which is why yours moved in first?” Nestra asked.

But Sylph shook his head.

“We have not ‘moved in’. The value of the youth league lies in its apolitical nature and the protection that status provides. Corpos and houses will use it as a networking and recruiting tool, but they cannot grab control because it would destroy the league’s usefulness. I will be honest. Of course, BaiRiMeng moved first in an attempt to benefit the most —”

“So you’re BaiRiMeng.”

Sylph paused again.

“The Young are one of the two founding families.”

“Sorry I’m not up to date with the corpo world’s who’s who,” Nestra replied with as little hostility as she could manage.

Sylph shrugged.

“That’s fine. As I was saying, my company benefits from being a, hmm, an early promoter.”

“You’re rather blunt,” Nestra noticed.

He looked too polished not to be an heir from the impeccable silver style to the tailored business casual attire. Nestra was no fashion expert, but she knew he had to be wearing ten of thousands of creds in stylist work. Being so direct was just not the way those people worked. In her experience.

“The boardroom dance has its use, but we all agreed that you would respond better to a direct and honest approach, so that’s what I’m doing.”

He just hinted he had the full support of his company, Nestra noticed. Sylph wasn’t a rogue element trying to get an edge in. He was BaiRiMeng personified for the sake of this negotiation. And it was a negotiation, even though he hadn’t pitched his proposal just yet.

“As I was saying, we have claimed some benefits, but as your procurement officer, I have included as many allies as possible. Most of the pizza deliveries come from BaiHua branches. We got specialized low-cost sewer-diving suits from Wellington with an option to get a 0-interest loan to pay for it. Touhei leases our headquarters.”

“We have a headquarters?” Nestra gasped.

“Yes, for storage, admin work and so on. Our less affluent members need a spot to get changed, store their weapons and so on, which we provide. What I am saying is that with my, ah, advice, your sister turned the Little People League from a great idea to an actual youth organization dedicated to allowing raiders from all backgrounds to network, obtain basic gear, and improve their resume as they gain experience within a relatively controlled environment. With BaiRiMeng helping maintain a balance between groups and generally improving the league’s image, of course.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Nestra demanded to know.

“I get experience in a leadership and diplomatic position. We get good recruits. We get reputation. We gain contacts, including you, by the way. And the league is, in fact, profitable, with most of the costs offset by corpo generosity. D-class gear is cheap.”

Sylph paused then, gauging Nestra’s reaction. She didn’t show any.

“I am still waiting for the sales pitch,” Nestra began because she couldn’t fully trust a corpo.

“Very well. The sales pitch is a separate issue from the league. I was merely explaining why I am here and what my role has been so far.”

“Ok.”

“Now for what we want from you: a partnership. We want to cooperate on Cooking with Crescent.”

Nestra almost hissed with her human throat, but Sylph had already anticipated her reaction.

“You would of course retain full creative control unless you start insulting people. We are not looking to change the formula, merely, ah, refine it.”

“I’m very much not interested.”

Cooking with Crescent was her damn baby.

“Would you at least hear me out?” Sylph asked.

Nestra sipped on her cocktail. It was really to her taste which made her suspicious but at the same time, BaiRiMeng was known for being good at people in general. They wouldn’t have come to her without a solid proposal. And they’d already proven they understood her to some measure. Hmmm.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“We would like to help you refine the recipe selection and process to create a sponsored product pipeline and before you scream at me, there was an issue with your crawfish etouffee.”

“There were no problems with my etouffee,” Nestra retorted with blistering outrage. “It was delicious.”

“For you, yes, but for your spectators who sourced frozen crawfish from Threshold’s only supplier, there were two issues. One, that crawfish was Chinese xiaolong xia with lower fat content which made their etouffee a bit dry, and two, the product ran out seven minutes after the show was aired.”

Nestra paused, now aware of the suffering she’d inflicted upon the famished masses.

“Oh.”

“You can improve your viewer’s experience by making sure, in advance, that they can in fact cook what you are proposing. Your technique also leaves much to be desired.”

Nestra rolled her eyes.

“I’m a raider first and foremost.”

“But what if you could train to prepare your dishes in advance with the help of Michelin chef Andrew Wong? Who is currently under exclusive contract with us?”

Nestra froze. Private classes from a Michelin chef?

Those cunts had gotten her good.

“You’re kidding,” she still denied.

“I am very serious. Between his help and our contract, you couldn’t just create the perfect dish, but also give directions that work best with available ingredients for your viewers, ingredients we will provide discounts for. Think about it.”

Nestra was indeed intrigued. In reality she had no idea who that Wong guy was because she’d never been able to justify paying that much on food. Human Nestra hadn’t been that rich. Now though…

“Ok, I’ll ask again. What do you get out of it?”

“Besides a large amount of money from just contracts with BaiHua-affiliated food markets?”

Nestra nodded. Sylph leaned towards her, whispering. Outside of the window, the lights dimmed, heralding the booming voice of the announcer. The crowd roared with pleasure. Grook’s fingers stuck to the glass with shivering excitement.

“Weeeeeelcooooooome everybody!”

“Yes,” Nestra replied.

“There is going to be a market for alien media and by that, I mean media featuring aliens. You are much more photogenic than the lizards. If we have you with us, we have the mother of all world exclusives…”

Sylph’s eyes twinkled in the dim light.  Camille approached the glass, mana forming a barrier that would cover the younger Aszhii and protect her from projectiles. 

Why is she doing that?

Time slowed down but as Nestra made to react, a guard opened the door.

“Citizen Nguyen, please do not deploy a shield as it might interfere with the measures we already have in place.”

Nestra breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, just nervous,” Camille replied as the rest of the league turned their attention away from the show.

It was nothing. Nestra was just overreacting, as was Camille. As for Sylph, he was patiently waiting.

“Sorry, you were talking about exclusive alien stuff. Look, I’m no actress…”

“You don’t need to be one. You are already a deadly raider who can cook. We can do a lot with that.”

Nestra was not exactly comfortable with the idea. It wasn’t just going against who she was as a person, but her nature as an Aszhii too. Sylph insisted.

“Consider this. You now have the possibility to forge public perception of your species for the foreseeable future, not as strange creatures from outer worlds but as a native of Earth. We employ some of the planet’s best PR experts. We need each other,” Sylph concluded.

Nestra wanted to refuse, but she was no longer the solo operative who took Gidung down a notch. Her purpose was no longer to stop one man, or to decrease the market cap of a corp for one trimester. She could do more now. She had to do more. Even if it meant putting herself out there for all the world to see. That was a new battlefield she would have to master too.

“I need to discuss the specifics with my family as well,” she started.

“Naturally.”

“But… yes. I think we should work together.”

“Wonderful. I’ll send you a summary of our basic proposal right away. Would you be free to come discuss a preliminary arrangement at our offices?”

“I don’t know for now. Everything’s moving very fast. I will do it, but not this week.”

“No worries, you have my contact and I have yours. We can discuss later. Alright!”

clapped his hands together.

“I’ve taken enough of your time, Nestra. Let me get out of your hair.”

Sylph voluntarily turned away from her, ending the conversation a bit abruptly yet Nestra found herself grateful. She moved to the window.

Grook was completely absorbed in the show by now. The fights hadn’t started, but she seemed to enjoy the many rituals preceding it just as much. Camille still stood by her side. Nestra didn’t think that the excited Aszhii had noticed.

“How are things for you? Sylph pressured you?”

Camille shook their head. They were here without a handler, Nestra noticed.

“They helped with commuting my sentence. I’m a free person.”

They sighed.

“For a while, I hoped I would get an official pardon, but the city’s position is that I was associated with crimes that caused the death of Threshold citizens.”

Nestra remembered the attempt on Valerian. One of the raiders had died. Sheryl, Nestra remembered. Her name was Sheryl. Camille had blood on their hands, although it was mostly because of her shit family.

“So I still have a criminal record, but between BaiRiMeng and your family I got more than enough work to keep me busy. I spend most of my off days on standby in case one of our teams needs help. It seldom happens, however. We brief our members very thoroughly.”

“You tell them not to grow too confident?” Nestra asked, familiar with the issue.

“We tell them that a dozen raiders end up dead and submerged in shit every year and ask them if they want their name on that list.”

“I assume they don’t.”

“You assume correctly,” Camille replied.

They paused. The first fight was starting, and Nestra had to wonder who came up with the telescopic fist first. Grook was whooping and her enthusiasm proved infectious as the rest of the group of teenagers roared in approval.

“But really, how are you?” Nestra asked again.

Camille paused. Nestra didn’t doubt the smart fencer had a plan at first, and yet the doubt in their eyes was undeniable.

“I am considering the future,” Camille said. “I had a, well, a dream more than a plan before. A plan needs to be actionable or obtainable. I dreamt of finishing my sentence, of being accepted, of finding a position that would let me progress and finally enjoy the results of my work for once in my damn life. And it happened. All of it happened. And now, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.”

“You’re supposed to be my rival. Speaking of, when are you ascending?” Nestra asked, dead serious.

Camille gave her a long glance.

“I missed you, you dolt.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll make you proper banh mi if you help me practice. I’ve sparred with solid warriors, but few true blade masters.”

“For banh me I’ll teach you a lesson or two,” Nestra replied, thinking of the delicious sandwich.

“Deal.”

Camille paused again. Her eyes searched Nestra’s own before curling up into a bittersweet smile.

“You know, you never ask me how the enclave is doing.”

“Bad memories,” Nestra explained.

“They’ve implemented most of the measures you suggested. There are new paths forward for raiders who do not favor the sword. Women are… better protected. We’ve made a difference.”

“Every little bit counts,” Nestra allowed.

“But you don’t care.”

It was more of a statement than a question. She met Camille’s eyes, the fencer’s pale gaze as unreadable as ever.

“I can only emotionally care about a small number of people, Camille. I help whoever I can but in the end, I can’t care about everybody. I just can’t. But I’m glad they got you, if anything.”

“I’m not exactly welcome back.”

“But you’re helping somehow,” Nestra guessed.

Camille nodded. 

“Mostly I’m making sure new recruits get training material, and I help those who just want to get out. The Elders are happy enough to pretend I no longer exist. It’s… a little painful.”

That last comment showed a crack in Camille’s armor. Despite the endless pain she’d suffered, the Sword King enclave still held a special place in their heart. Now Camille had lost them, perhaps for good, and still, they cared.

“I get the feeling that being a normal ‘good’ person is that, sometimes: helping whoever you can at a distance while spending a lot more energy on the people you love. I can’t pretend to be genuinely heroic, and heroic people do exist. Riel, for example. He’s back for a few weeks and he’s already building the future of portal travel for the benefit of mankind. And that’s not even mentioning his anti-Kaiju initiative which is ready to go. But I’m no hero. I try to do the right thing while still looking after myself. I feel like in my case, it was more about being the right person in the right spot and at the right time and then stepping up that allowed me to make that much of a difference. For you, it’s helping those who don’t deserve it, or their relatives I guess, because they need it and there is no one else.”

“Isn’t that what a hero is?” Camille asked. “Rising to the occasion? Being there for people? You’re saying heroes are born, not made.”

Nestra considered Camille words while one of the wrestlers repeatedly slammed the other against the edge of the cage.

“I guess it’s a matter of perception. Someone who’s considered a hero because they rose up was a hero then. Riel is a hero all the time. It’s like… his main occupation.”

“Fair enough. Then are you trying to say we’re being good persons?”

“I think, at the very least, that we are trying.”

Camille bumped Nestra’s elbow with her own. It was perhaps the first time they volunteered physical contact Nestra could remember.

“It would be even better if I were B-class, right?”

“We’ll train after I’m done with the current emergency. I promise.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget.”

From then on, the discussion turned towards sword techniques and B-class body specifics. Camille was rather enthusiastic and Nestra was just generally happy to spend time with them again. She would wander for sure, but Earth would remain one of her two homes. After a while, she decided to check on Albert and Miu as she hadn’t greeted them yet. She crept up behind the couch where they’d been lounging from the start. Albert almost jumped when she leaned next to him with her mask suddenly removed.

“Heard you were banging my sister?” she hissed in his ear.

“Gah!”

“Nes! Stop bullying my boyfriend!” Helena yelled from the juice bar.

Nestra didn’t comply. Her attention was on the bottle held in his hand.

“When are you turning 18?” she asked him.

‘Next year?”

She confiscated the bottle.

“Hey! Aw come on my parents let me have some at home!” Albert protested. “It’s a beer! It’s basically our national drink.”

“First of all, I’m not your parents, mate. Second, make it a habit not to volunteer underage drinking confessions to a law enforcement officer. Clearly Helena doesn’t love you for your brains.”

“No bullying!” 

“And third, our national drink is coffee, extra strong.”

“Can I try that beer thing?” Grook squeaked from her massive frame.

Nestra and Helena exchanged a panicked glance at the thought of an inebriated C-class stone troll.

“We don’t know how your body will process it,” Nestra said. “So I’d rather not try it here. Why don’t you check the fight details and I’ll mix you a juice and syrup cocktail?”

“Ok!”

Grook was happy enough to drink the offering, only leaving for fifteen seconds break where she would devastate the buffet. Attila had nothing on the troll girl even in a more human-adjacent heavenly mask. The rest of the gleams instinctively gave her space without Nestra having to suggest it. Between the dim light, the safety of the glass and the low conversation, Grook was just having a good time. So did Nestra. She almost managed to completely relax, even laughing when volunteers from the audience were invited to prove themselves against professionals. The presence of burly gleams with fighting experience and enough self-discipline to keep it fun almost made Grook want to get down there herself so she could prove her mettle. Nestra could see the raw longing, but her Aszhii instincts still prevented her from acting on it. 

After more than three hours, the show ended. Before Nestra could leave, however, their assigned B-class bodyguard stepped up.

“There is an… issue. Nothing serious,” he said, giving Nestra a glance. “We have an unusual number of journalists trying to corner you. From foreign channels as far as we can tell, but this might be an issue.”

“It’s not an issue because we have an armored hovercar and a direct line back to the hotel,” Nestra replied.

“Yes, however there are so many drones in the air the hovercar doesn’t have clearance to leave. We could force it and destroy their drones, of course, but BaiRiMeng suggested a discrete exit. My superiors agree that it would be best not to antagonize any news network at this time.”

Nestra thought for only a moment. She had to stop panicking at every unexpected thing. This was just media being media. Instead, she should find a way to turn it into a fun occasion. And she had a great idea.

***

A motorcade left the VIP parking exit in a rush, surprising every news outlet clogging the air with their drones despite strong requests from law enforcement to desist. They were betting Threshold wouldn’t smash so much stuff if they could avoid it, and their bet paid off. The move took most reporters by surprise, but the most canny spotted the leaving party as it entered the cars. The silvery hair of Sylph was easily recognizable from afar. Those who were familiar enough also spotted Helena Palladian among fellow LPL officers Miu and Albert. This was it. As much as traffic let them, they gave chase with the most daring of all riding motorcycles at dangerous speed.

No one paid attention to a nondescript van peeling off among dozens of others handling the cleanup.

***

“Not that I don’t enjoy your presence or patronage, Palladian, but are you sure this is fine?” Gorge asked from the driver’s seat.

Nestra felt positively naughty sneaking out like that. 

“I was thinking, Grook never had the opportunity to shoot and you got an impressive collection. I’d like to rent your firing range. We’ll buy the guns.”

Grook nodded with much enthusiasm from under the tarp they were hiding in — an unnecessary overkill but the troll girl really liked it.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Palladian,” Gorge said with a grave face. “Not without a proper license.”

The two of them exchanged a glance before laughing their asses off. 

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” Soo-Young Kim said from the passenger seat.

Nestra’s strict civil servant friend looked much better than when she got out of prison. Nestra was pleased to see that her new position in financial crimes treated her well.

“And why did you ask me to come?” the stern woman asked with a frown.

“I thought it was a good time to catch up. And spend some time at the range for entertainment purposes. Have you never wanted to try a shotgun?” Nestra asked in all seriousness.

Kim’s brand new eye implants flashed.

“I will pick the model.”

“Of course. Let’s all enjoy my break. The city’s paying for it.”

“Correction. I will pick the models.”

“Can I have a beer there?” Grook asked.

Nestra entertained the thought of an inebriated C-class stone troll with a gun. She signaled the others that no, absolutely the fuck not.