She'd taken Nozomi to a Japanese-style bathhouse. Given her a proper scrub behind the feline ears, down the subtle grooves of her neuroports. As Amber paid, the android attendant mistook them for mom and daughter.

  The kid laughed.

  Ramen stall, Kowloon Shanghai, Northside; Late evening

  Shadows pooled in the busy streets skirting the kowloon. Thick clouds with the evening rain. Sat in a concrete alcove at the foot of the manmade mountain, Amber stirred her ramen as she watched a group of gangers on the prowl, like neon ghosts in the fog. Distant gunshots made them erupt with laughter. As did the corpse laying splayed on the curb.

  Amber reached for her pop. Found it in Nozomi's grasp. She watched the girl drink the whole thing in one go, before crushing it in her hand

  "Jeeesus fuck, that's good..." she shuddered, laying her head on the table. "You're spoilin' me, lady. Ain't eaten this good in months."

  "Been a pretty penny. Don't think it's a free ride."

  "Yeh, yeh. Nothin' ever lasts, y'know?"

  The old chef said something in Cantonese. Amber grabbed another pair of colas, looked Nozomi hard in the eye.

  "You're gonna tell me everythin' I wanna know," she said.

  "Or else?"

  "Don't fuck with me, kid. You know I got the red."

  "You ain't got shit."

  Amber grit her teeth, pulled back.

  Nozomi continued, "You might not know nobody, but everyone knows you. And word is you joined the Russian Mob."

  "Word don't carry the full story. You don't know me."

  "Shit, I know I don't. Talk in absolutes, I don't know nobody. But there's folks who do. Wanna blow your mind with a twelve-gauge."

  "Rax."

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  "The fuck were you thinkin', gal?"

  "Look... Look..." Amber sighed, gripped her can tight. "My squeeze had some heat, y'know? Said her dad owed big money to the Yak. One day some street-samurai knocked on my door, gave me an offer I can't refuse."

  "How'd you get caught up with the Russians?"

  "Well... the Yak messed up. Saw my squeeze punched deck for the Triads, and the deal was off." Amber's eyes were drawn to the corpse. "The Yak were nice, at least. Roughed me up, threw me out the back of a van. Laid there, watched the thing disappear into the fog, right beside my hopes and dreams."

  "You got desperate."

  "That far down the totem pole, you'll do anythin' for cash. You know the feel."

  The empty can crumpled in Nozomi's closing fist. "Better than the alternatives."

  "Pretty much," Amber said, lighting a smoke off her zippo. "What about me, kid? Am I better than the alternatives?"

  Nozomi threw the can at the floor. Went skipping across concrete to the edge of the sidewalk. "Yeah, I guess. Might as well live it up while it lasts."

  "Trust. You got the dirt, it's gonna last a long, long time."

  "Don't gimme that shit," Nozomi seethed, grabbing at something in her cargo pants. "I know how the story goes. First ya take me high, tell me all about the latest biz. Then the tide starts to change, and suddenly I'm a liability."

  Amber leaned close. "Think I'd drop ya where I found ya?"

  "Why the hell not? Bitch like me ain't efficient, see? Not unless I'm spreadin' legs for red." Nozomi stood, got up in Amber's face. Scent of tonkatsu on her breath. "When you let me down, you better watch your back. 'Cuz if you think I'm gonna lay down and take it, I'll paint yer fuckin' brains across the street."

  Amber caught a glint in the edge of her vision. In return, she'd introduce the pistol she'd drawn, pressed the muzzle under Nozomi's jaw.

  "Stand the fuck down, kitten," Amber said, shoving the kid back. Ursine strength sent her skidding to a stop against the drink dispenser.

  Amber loomed overhead, pressed a heavy boot to the kid's elbow. She'd grabbed the kid's knife as it'd tumbled from her hand, examined it in the dispenser's neon.

  "Nice toothpick," she said, dropping it in the sprawl of Nozomi's hair. "Not much use in a fight, though."

  "Yeah? I could slit yer throat, instead."

  Amber shifted her weight, watched Nozomi writhe with pain. The kid grabbed at Amber's boot, watched as she drew a pistol from her trench coat. It clattered beside the knife, alongside a pair of chromed clips.

  "Take it. Get a feel," Amber said, withdrawing her boot. "Ten-mill. My old faithful. Red tips are incendiaries. Blue jackets are explosive."

  Nozomi coughed, curling around her elbow. "The fuck are you doing?"

  "Can't fight with a knife. You run with me, you gotta defend yourself."

  Nozomi caressed the pistol, ran her fingers along its squarish steel barrel. "Didn't you hear what I said? Someday Imma blow your brains out."

  "When I let ya down," Amber recalled, handing her the clip of explosive tips. "If that happens... When that happens, make sure ya do it right."

  She watched Nozomi stare at the thing, gently stroke it in her palm, like one might a crystal ball. Crimson neon highlighted scratches in the old magazine, made brass jackets glimmer like gold.

  "You're scarin' me, gal," she said at last.

  "Like ya said, you don't know me."