“Not a problem,” Quasar replied, sending him the electro and the data.

  “Why don’t you head over to that table there?” Fraque said, pointing to an unoccupied seat overlooking the ground floor. “I’ll sync your images up with the public datastore and our internal facial recognition AI. When we find them, we’ll shine a spotlight on them, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He wandered off while we took our seats at the table. I forced down the other two not-so-hot-dogs and looked over the side to the dance floor. “I might be able to pick them out by their dance aptitude,” I said, spotting multiple awkward nerds out there. It took one to know one. I turned back to Quasar. “I hope he isn’t calling PD right now.”

  “Why would he call PD?” she replied. “He doesn’t know who we are.”

  “But he knows we came here looking for three very specific people who work at Mushari. You can’t make that sound less than suspicious. And innocent until proven guilty doesn’t fly in Nobukku’s territories, remember?”

  “Money talks. Remember?”

  I smiled. “Gia’s been letting it flow pretty freely for us.”

  “She believes in the cause. And she wants revenge on Blorb for killing her.”

  I turned my head back to the club’s floor when the band suddenly stopped playing and the lead singer shouted “Cotton candy!”

  Multicolored foam started pouring out of nozzles on the ceiling over the dance floor, quickly coating the revelers as they shouted and cheered. Watching some of them eat the stuff, I assumed it probably tasted like cotton candy. The music resumed, and in less than a minute, all of the foam dissolved, leaving the crowd clean and a stream of rainbow liquid draining beneath their feet.

  “Ben,” Emerald said, knocking on the table. I looked at her, but she was looking toward the club's entrance. Following her gaze, I caught sight of a handful of newcomers, all similarly dressed in dark jumpsuits baggy enough to conceal weapons. Maybe they had come to party, but I hadn’t seen any other groups all wearing the same clothes and looking about as if they were searching for something. Or someone.

  “Whoever they are, they can’t be here for us,” I said. “Not this fast.”

  Emerald looked to Quasar. “Unless Gia isn’t as trustworthy as we think she is.”

  “Why are you looking at me?” Quasar replied. “I’m just the messenger.”

  “No,” I said. “Gia’s earned my trust." But then I wavered a bit on my feelings. "If she decides to betray my faith, then we’re going to lose.” I met Emerald’s eyes with mine. “You disappeared for a minute back at the hospital. You used the opportunity to wake up PD. If anyone led them here, you’d be the primary suspect.”

  “Me? Ben, you gave me hope that I might have a future. That I might see my son again. I would never—”

  “I’m not accusing you. I’m just pointing out a fact. Druck turned on us, but the worst thing we can do is use that experience to start turning on one another. We would be playing right into Sedaya’s hands if we did that. I’m choosing to believe that you’re all loyal to me and our cause and that this group of jumpsuits is here by chance. If they’re trouble, we’ll deal with them.”

  “Thanks, Boo,” Emerald said, clearly relieved.

  I looked back at the group of newcomers, watching them spread out through the club, their body language clearly suggesting they were here for a reason.

  “Are we going to deal with them too?” Emerald asked, dragging my attention back to the entrance. A squad of PD officers had just entered the club.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The good news was that PD didn’t break right for the VIP lounge. They began spreading throughout the club, wading through the crowd, obviously searching for someone. Again, I couldn’t be certain they were looking for us. With any luck, they were here for the Jumpsuit Gang.

  “Ah, my precious loves,” Fraque said, returning to the table. “All the arrangements have been made. Our cameras are scanning the crowds as we speak.”

  “Do you know why PD is here?” I asked.

  “They are?” He leaned over the railing, scowling when he spotted them. “They probably got a tip someone they’re looking for is here. Or perhaps our facial recognition AI pulled a match and alerted them. That system is unfortunately automated and mandated by the Nobukkian government.”

  “There is no Nobukkian government right now,” I said.

  He laughed. “True. Perhaps we should shut that part off. I’m eager to see who Empress Li’an chooses as Duke Nobukku’s successor. I haven’t heard a peep from the palace about her plans for replacements.”

  “I’m not eager for that,” I replied. I wasn’t going to tell him we were actively trying to stop it.

  A spotlight activated over the crowd, pointing at one of the awkward dancers near the stage. “Ahh, there’s your first one now,” Fraque said.

  “I knew it,” I gloated, happy to see I had picked the woman out as a potential target from the masses before the confirmation.

  A second spotlight focused on someone on the other side of the club while the first beam faded.

  “Why’d you turn that one off?” I complained.

  “I never agreed to keep them under a spotlight all night. It’s disruptive to the customers.”

  “Shit. Emerald, can you go talk to her before she disappears?”

  “On it, Chief.”

  “Be nice,” I cautioned her.

  “Of course.” She jumped out of her seat, heading for the stairs. I didn’t need to tell her to watch out for PD and the Jumpsuits.

  “I’ll talk to number two,” I said, standing up and getting a bead on him before I lost the spotlight. He was moving through the crowd, though he didn't seem to have noticed the light on him yet. Drunk, maybe? “What’s his name?”

  “Artun Nakata,” Quasar replied.

  “It looks like he’s headed for the bathroom,” Fraque offered.

  “Thanks,” I replied, well behind Emerald as we descended the stairs. Before I reached the bottom I saw her skirt past one of the PD officers, going unrecognized.

  The third spotlight was active when I reached the bottom floor, though I couldn’t see where it was aimed. Since we had each taken a target, I trusted Quasar to take care of him.

  It was tough to maneuver through the crowds. The high ground had given me a great vantage point to see everything, but now I could barely see more than a couple of feet through the people popping in and out of my personal space in a constant flow. It would be pure luck if I didn't bump into either the PD or the Jumpsuits.

  The bathrooms were on the other side of the club, close to the stage. I pushed my way through the dancers, angling toward it while keeping my construct active. I didn’t want to use any sigils if I didn't have to. At my current energy level I was at a much higher risk of burning out and ending up paralyzed. But I couldn’t let myself be caught either. Maybe I had entered the Spiral relatively weak and defenseless, but I reminded myself that wasn’t the case anymore. I had trained to fight with Alter and Matt for weeks before I knew sigiltech even existed.

  The Jumpsuit pushed roughly through a group of revelers to my left and into my path. I bumped him with my shoulder, and we both turned to face one another, our noses so close they were almost touching. His eyes drilled into mine. I glared back.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked, raising his sigiltech ring-adorned hand. The sigil started glowing.

  I didn’t even bother with enhance, opting to clamp my hand over his mouth before he could get out his focus word and following that up by sweeping his feet out from under him. I landed on his chest as the dancers cleared the floor around us, their screams barely audible above the thumping bass and sickly sweet electronica pouring out of the loudspeakers. My hand still tight over the archon’s mouth, I pinned his arms beneath my knees and reached under my coat to pull my blaster. I shoved it against his gut and fired twice. The archon's eyes opened wide before slowly drooping closed.

  Before I left him there, I took the time to claim his push ring, slipping it on my finger as I darted across the dance floor toward the bathroom. I froze with the rest of the revelers when the band stopped playing and the singer again shouted, "cotton candy!" Foam poured from the blackness above, quickly drenching me in rainbow colored fluff. The stuff that made it to my mouth really did taste county-fair sweet, and I gobbled it up for the carb calories as quickly as I could.

  Within seconds, I looked like Mr. Stay-Puft had just exploded on top of me, no different from everyone else around me. Another Jumpsuit, barely discernible beneath his cotton candy coating, passed right by me, his gaze sweeping over my foam-covered features without any sign of recognition. He spotted the body of his dead buddy and rushed toward him.

  Now that I was sure the group was looking for me, I didn’t waste the opportunity to take another one of them out. I snuck up behind him, gathering some of the foam in my hands and slapping it into his eyes. He grunted in surprise. “Shaq,” I cried, "Take him out!"

  Shaq ran out from under my scarf, sliding through the foam on my shoulder before leaping onto the the Jumpsuit’s back. Quickly biting him in the neck, he bounced back to my shoulder and took cover again, all before the corpse hit the floor.

  Two down, ten more to go.

  The foam fizzed away, leaving me clean and dry by the time I reached the entrance to the restroom. No doubt my target had already gone inside. I weighed whether or not to follow him in as I approached the line of men and women waiting outside for empty stalls. The toilets were obviously gender neutral.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” one man jawed at me as I moved toward the door rather than the end of the line.

  “Yeah, we all gotta piss,” a woman complained. “Wait your groting turn you wankster.”

  “I’m not going in to pee,” I shouted back. “I’m looking for a friend.”

  “Well, look from the end of the line, asshole,” the guy growled.

  I ignored his mouth as I tried to walk past him, but he reached out and grabbed my shoulder. Worried Shaq might bite first and ask questions later, I turned on him and drove an enhanced punch into his gut, making sure to hit him hard enough that neither he nor anyone else on the line would continue the fight. He fell to his knees, and doubled-over in pain, coughing and trying to breathe. I continued into the can.

  The bathroom was as huge as I expected it to be, separated into multiple rows of stalls and ultra-modern sinks, with no urinals in sight. Every stall was taken, nearly every sink the same. The music played through speakers embedded in the walls, and some of the people coming out of the toilets danced over to clean their hands or simply danced out through the exit door.

  “Artun!” I shouted. “Artun, are you in here, bro?” I figured a name like that wasn’t very common. “Artun!”

  “Who’s out there?” a voice, presumably Artun’s, shouted from one of the stalls. I hurried over to lean my shoulder against the partition at the hinged side of the locked door.

  “Are you Artun Nakata?” I asked.

  “That’s me,” he answered. “Who are you?”

  “Shaq, do you mind?” I asked. He slipped out from under the scarf. “Just squat on his shoulder, bud.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” he agreed, slipping out and dropping to the floor to run beneath the door. I leaned my head back to watch him scamper up over the pants dropped down around Artun’s ankles.

  “What the hell?” Artun shouted. “Get the hell off me, you stupid blue rodent. Hey! What are you doing?”

  “Hey Artun,” I said, leaning against the door. “That’s my friend Shaq. He’s a jagger. I wouldn’t piss him off or try to swat him or anything if I were you. His bites extremely venomous.”

  “What?” Artun said. “Is this some kind of prank?”

  “I’m dead serious. If you’ve got your slab you can look him up. Jagger. J-A-G-G-E-R. I’ll wait.”

  I could almost hear his fingers on the keys of his slab. His pants remained around his ankles without shifting. He already had the device in his hands.

  “Shit man, what the hell is this?” Artun shouted, once he saw I wasn’t lying.

  “When you’re done in there, I need you to—”

  Someone pushed me from the side, sending me hurtling toward the nearest wall. Almost without thinking, I activated reflect and hit the barrier, bouncing off just as quickly. The change in momentum gave me whiplash. I landed hard on the floor, my body throbbing with pain.

  “Bad idea,” the Jumpsuit said, chuckling as he walked toward me. “You aren’t very good at this, are you?” The people in the bathroom were already screaming and trying to get out of the exit all at once, the scene no doubt sure to attract PD’s attention. “Do you want to try again?” He whispered his focus word, but I was ready for his lips to start moving. I rolled to the side, the wave blasting by me and hitting the wall, cracking the cement. A few rounds from my blaster dropped him to the floor.

  I got to my feet and ambled over to him. While he was still breathing, too much blood had already filled his throat and lungs for him to use another focus word. “You aren’t very good at this, are you?” I snapped back, holstering my blaster as I stepped over him to reach Artun’s stall.

  “What’s going on out there?” he said fearfully. “Please, whoever you are, I just want to get out of here.”

  “Open the door,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Open the damn door!”

  “My pants are down. I’m butt naked on the groting bowl.”

  “I don’t care about your balls hanging out,” I said. “Now, I can either tell my friend there to kill you so I can get what I came for, or you can open the damn door and give it to me without dying.”

  He turned the latch and pulled the door inward. I stepped in with it, looking down at his face, his eyes wide with terror, his movements frozen as he peered up at me. I felt bad for him. He was too scared to be embarrassed by the stink rising off him. “Look, Artun…” I lowered my voice, removing a lot of the menace from it. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need your slab with your Mushari hall pass open.”

  His face froze. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You want to get into Mushari? I can't allow that. They’ll fire me if I let you use my pass.”

  “You don't have a choice. I’ll kill you and take it if you don’t willingly turn it over. And unless you’ve selected a password a half-billion credit AI can’t crack, I can still get your identification from it. So it should be an easy choice for you to make.”

  “What do you want from Mushari?”

  “In all honesty, I think your company built the primary components of the starship used to kidnap Prince Hiro. I’m trying to track that component to the perpetrators so I can find and kill them instead of you, to get the prince back. I’m not really a bad guy. I just need your ID, man.”

  He stared at me. “You’re serious!”

  “One hundred percent.”

  Looking down at his slab, he entered his passcode and opened the identifier. “You should have just said so. You didn’t need to threaten me. I support the Empress, and I’m worried about the prince.” He handed the slab over to me, making me feel even worse about strong-arming him while his pants were down.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I’m just so used to people being difficult about everything.”

  “It’s okay,” he replied, twisting the guilt knife a little more.

  “Can you do me another favor?” I asked. “PD is probably going to be in here any minute now. Just don’t tell them about this, okay?”

  He bit his lower lip, hesitant to fulfill that request. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

  “Okay. I’m going to put you to sleep. You’ll actually feel better when you wake up then you do right now. And you'll be off the hook.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  I took off my glove, revealing the glowing veins on the back of my hand as I put the glove in my jacket pocket. “Magic,” I said, reaching out and touching his cheek. A burst of calm, and his head slumped sideways into the side of the stall as he fell fast asleep.

  “Come on,” I said to Shaq. “We’re going to be in deep—”

  “You!” a harsh voice growled. “Come out of that stall with your hands up!”

  “Shit,” I finished softly before sighing. I should have just calmed Artun and ran instead of explaining myself. I gave Shaq an almost imperceptible nod before backing slowly out of the stall with my hands up. Shaq remained behind, on Artun's shoulder.

  “Turn around! Slowly!” I did as instructed, facing the stone-faced PD officer. He glared at me, his pistol aimed at my chest. “Now, slowly extend your arm and drop the blaster."

  Again, I followed his order, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Shaq sneak under the side wall into the empty stall beside it, moving toward the officer. I really didn’t want him to kill the man, but the stakes were too high to let him get in the way.

  “Officer, I don’t know what’s going on here,” I stammered. “I—”

  “Shut it,” he snapped. “What happened here?”

  I glanced at the dead archon. “Is he…dead?” I asked, trying to sell my surprise.

  “Very,” the officer answered. “And you’re a terrible actor.” He reached with his free hand for a device on his left hip. “I’m going to toss this to you. Catch it, put your hands together, and press the button. If you drop it, I shoot you. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I replied, as Shaq’s head appeared under the closed stall door closest to the officer. Whoever was in there knew enough to stay quiet.

  The officer tossed the device at me. It looked like a tampon with a button on the end. Rather than even trying to catch it, I pushed it back at him as he brought his second hand back to his gun. Surprised by the unexpected change in direction, he didn’t take a shot at me, The tampon vectored toward his hands, and I pushed the device to hit the button.

  “What the hell,” he cursed as the device activated. An energy field pulled at his hands, crushing them together so tightly he couldn’t pull the trigger much less force his hands apart.