For a moment V was looking at Kerry with his eyes wide open. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anything like that.
"Good joke, Ker," said V finally and let out a short laugh. "Really good one."
"Not jokin'," snapped Kerry. "I'm ultra fuckin' serious. Take me with ya."
"Why? Why do you want to go?"
Kerry bit his lip. It was hard to admit even to himself that it was all mainly about not wanting to go back to an empty house. He felt he could trust V, but… that wasn't the best time to confide personal issues.
"Why not? I'm not that useless, if it's makin' you worry. And know some people who may help, actually."
V's face has changed. His eyes narrowed dangerously and smile turned into a grimace.
"You've lost your mind, Kerry. You have absolutely zero idea what it means, to go for a gig," snarled V, crossing his arms on the chest. "You live in your villa, get wasted all days and don't know shit about my job. Think it's a childplay, like blowing up trucks? Want some fun 'cause you're bored, huh?"
That lil' fuck.
In a split second, Kerry felt a huge burst of anger. It was so unexpected he could swear he experienced it physically, as unpleasant pressure in the throat. And then… it all faded away, as quickly as it appeared, before he even managed to react. Suddenly, Kerry felt very old and very helpless.
"Truth is, it's you who don't know shit 'bout me," he started in a surprisingly calm voice. "Was 'bout your age when Arasaka and Militech went on war. Seen things you wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire right here, in Night City. Civilians' massacre near the Tannhäuser Gate. Been there, actually, helpin' those poor souls. Never in my life was I runnin' that fast, slippin' in rain." Kerry made a short pause, thinking. Even though many years had passed, all those moments weren't lost in time. "And you tell me I don't know shit 'bout a small gig? Well, fuck you then."
V seemed speechless. He hung his head and stayed silent for a while.
"Holy shit, Ker… Had no idea," mumbled V quietly, still looking at a random point on the floor. "You must now think I'm the worst gonk ever."
His discomfort would be funny if it wasn't actually sad. Kerry came closer, crouched in front of V and gently touched his knee to draw attention. In response to that gesture, V lifted up the head. His face expressed both confusion and embarrassment, but he didn't look away.
"Don't flatter yourself. Met worse." Kerry smiled straight into V's red eyes. "You're somewhere in the middle of the list."
"Yeah. Good to know. Fuck," muttered V, but he definitely relaxed a bit. "Guess now I have no choice but to let you go. Even though I'd rather not to."
"I promise to retreat if things get fucked up." Kerry stood up.
A hint of a real smile appeared on V's face, but only for a brief moment. It seemed he suddenly realised something, as he frowned.
"You can't go like that," V pointed at Kerry's clothes. "Everyone knows you. Unnecessary attention is the last thing we need."
Kerry looked at himself. Of course V was right, everyone would recognise him if he went out wearing his usual outfit. Not that a white tank top and a leather vest were particularly conspicuous, he simply needed something more covering the tattoos, cyberware, and obviously the face. Going back to North Oak to change was not an option – it would take too much time to climb up all those idiotic turns on the way and then go back. He could of course buy some clothes at the first store he'd find, but Kerry had a better idea.
"Where the heck are you going?" V's eyebrows went high.
The wardrobe was already open, apparently to make it possible for Nibbles to sleep inside. Kerry grabbed the sliding door and pushed it to the right side, opening wider. The faint smell of mothballs and woody perfume hit his nostrils immediately.
"Lookin' for some guise, whaddya think? Oh. That's so fuckin' cool." Kerry couldn't help but grin when he pulled a studded leather jacket out of the closet. "I like it."
"Kerry, you serious?" V did a quick facepalm. He stood up, came closer and took the jacket. "It's more or less your normal style."
"Didn't say anything 'bout wearin'," snorted Kerry, who actually was considering it for a second. He looked with longing in his eyes at the jacket when V was hanging it back into the wardrobe, but pretended it was nothing. "Just… can't see anything else."
"Take this. And, for fuck's sake, at least take off the rings and chains you got."
Kerry looked carefully at the black, shapeless thing that V put into his hands. It was a simple zip-up hoodie, with a heart-side logo of a weird geometrical shape. The hoodie wasn't of the best quality, though. The fabric felt synthetic and there was already a small rip on the sleeve, but Kerry had to admit V was right about choosing it. It was plain enough not to draw unwanted attention and, thanks to the big hood, it was easy to hide the face if necessary. Kerry put on the hoodie and discovered with some relief that the smell of V's perfume was stronger than the mothballs. Then he took of all the jewellery and put it on the shelf with a quiet clink.
"How I look?" Kerry put his sunglasses on the nose, then raised his arms to the sides and made a full turn.
"You're breathtaking," said V, laughing. "Now let's delta. I'm fuckin' starving."
Kerry had a few favourite spots to eat in Night City. One might think that a rich rockstar like him would often dine at fancy places and that was true to some extent. There was, for example, that fantastic Filipino restaurant near Embers, where they served the best kinilaw in the whole world, even better than in the Philippines – their chef somehow managed to always have fresh fish, not frozen, even though it was horrendously expensive. A few months ago Kerry also discovered a posh Russian restaurant close to North Oak which brought some completely new culinary experience. The weird names in the menu all sounded like names of exotic diseases, so he just decided to go wild that day and order some things at random. When he got pieces of meat suspended in cloudy jelly, sprinkled with vinegar and served with a shot of vodka, his first thought was to get out and never come back, but Kovachek convinced Kerry to give it a try. Surprisingly, it tasted much better than it looked and smelled so he became a regular, but he would never admit in any interview that Kerry Eurodyne is nuts about meat in jelly.
On the other hand, Kerry was visiting cheap diners equally, if not more often. He enjoyed that stuffy atmosphere, shouting waiters and the smell of burnt pancakes in a weird, almost perverse way, even though he knew that the quality of services at such places could be... questionable. Still, eating there was bringing memories every damn time so badly that Kerry decided to turn a blind eye to that. Well, at least as long as he won't get sick. He felt that nostalgia when he entered Caliente for the first time in years after Johnny's death and it kept drawing him since then.
Today, however, it didn't seem like they were going to any of such places.
"Where the hell are we goin'?" asked Kerry, but V only smiled mysteriously.
They took V's car, as he rightly pointed out that it won't be eye-catching. Obviously, it was V who was driving – Kerry wouldn't dare to get behind the wheel of such a piece of junk again after the Us Cracks affair – but he didn't spill the beans about their destination. He only said that it would be something special and that was it.
Finally, V stopped the car in front of an old house in one of Heywood's bad neighbourhoods. Kerry stepped out of the car, completely confused. This part of Heywood definitely didn't look like a place where they could find a decent diner to eat. Hell, even street food from a stall would be a health hazard here.
"Care to finally tell me what the fuck?"
"You'll see in a minute," said V, walking towards the front door. "Just… don't mention Jackie, no matter what, okay?"
"That friend of yours?" Kerry caught up with V.
"Yep. The very same."
V knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer – he just pushed it and entered the house, as if it was his own one. Kerry followed, looking with curiosity around the place. It was a typical house of a family which had some more money than an average Night City citizen. Nothing very special, but for many people who were living cooped up in tight apartments or in the slums that would feel like a high standard. Kerry also noticed a few paintings of Catholic saints, depicted in that specific, easy to recognise style. He'd seen a lot of those colourful, flowery pictures in Heywood. They were present on almost everything, from cars' bonnets to cheap thong sold on every corner.
But it all became completely irrelevant the moment Kerry realised that something in this house smelled pretty damn good, like vegetable stew and fresh coffee. He could feel his stomach growling again.
"V? Is that you?"
A gray-haired woman came out the other room to the hallway, wiping her hands with a cloth. She looked tired, but seemed to be happy to see them.
"I asked you to lock the door, Mama." V came up to the woman and hugged her. "Please don't make me worry about you."
"I may be old, but I still can take care of myself, mijo. I survived my ex-husband and now I work with Pepe every day, it speaks for itself. That's the hungry one you mentioned in the text?" She pointed at Kerry.
"Yeah, my friend Kerry. He couldn't wait to meet you and your famous breakfast. Ker, that's Mama Welles, the best person in this damn city."
Mama Welles came closer, took Kerry's hands into her own and looked straight into his eyes, as if she was looking for something. Her piercing eyes made Kerry uneasy at first – it felt like she was reading his mind, but it lasted only for a brief moment and then the woman's face relaxed.
"Your amigo, huh?" she finally asked with a little, almost unnoticeable smirk.
"That's the word on the street," said Kerry. "Nice to meet you, Mama Welles. And I'm sure it'd be nice to meet your breakfast, too."
Mama Welles laughed. She cupped Kerry's cheeks and then put her hand on his forehead.
"You're pale, mijo. And skinny. Are you eating well?"
There was some genuine concern in her voice. Kerry could lie of course, but cheating Mama Welles felt as wrong as killing fluffy kittens. There probably were people who would do this, but those were psychopaths for sure. That woman has such wonderful, warm aura that it was impossible not to be honest.
"Well… Not quite," mumbled Kerry, trying to be diplomatic.
"I thought so." Mama Welles nodded. "Entra y siéntate." She made an inviting gesture and went back to the room she came from.
Kerry slowly turned to V and gave him a confused, what-the-hell-just-happened look. V shrugged and smiled apologetically.
"Don't look at me like that. Just thought you might enjoy a homemade meal."
"I may, but who's she exactly?"
"My late friend's mom," explained V. "They both took me in after Arasaka decided to kick me out and take everything away. Didn't have to live in the streets thanks to those two."
"You lived here? Seriously?"
"Upstairs." V pointed at the stairs. "For half a year. They helped me get back on my feet and didn't want a single eddie. I owe Mama Welles my life, so watch your manners."
"Damn. So there are good folks in Night City…" said Kerry thoughtfully.
"Yes." V's voice suddenly became dry. "Not many of them, though. Let's go. Mama's waiting."
The smell of food became overwhelming when they entered the kitchen and Kerry quickly noticed why. There was a huge iron skillet on the table, containing something which looked like tomato sauce with a few sunny side up eggs on top, sprinkled with green herbs. Apart from that, there were three more plates with a different ingredient on every of them: crumbled white cheese, sliced avocado and tortillas. Kerry also saw something that looked like – good gracious – a big coffee pot.
"Perdonadme, there should be some lime but it's been difficult to buy even lemons lately," said Mama Welles and poured the coffee into the cups.
"It's awesome," gasped Kerry, when he was able to talk again. He took the seat nearest to the coffee pot and took a deep breath. The food still smelled delicious. Oh, how he wished Mama Welles would be his private cook… "Looks damn perfect even without."
"Told you it'd be special." V chuckled and sat on the opposite chair. He glanced at the food on the table. "Huevos rancheros, isn't it?"
"Si." Mama Welles smiled, taking the last place, at the head of the table. She grabbed Kerry's plate and put two tortillas on it, then topped them with the tomato sauce with eggs and at the end she sprinkled it with cheese and avocado. "It's what boys in México eat, so they grow strong. You should try too," she said, putting the plate back in front of Kerry.
Seriously. Boys. Kerry was one hundred percent sure he was older than Mama Welles. She didn't seem to be using any aging-control treatment and V mentioned that she had an adult son, so she must have been at least fifty, maybe a few years more. However, in her presence he indeed felt like a little boy who stayed over for a meal at his friend's house. Kerry thought that age difference truly meant nothing – what really mattered was that strange, warm energy he could often feel in women who became mothers.
Funny that the same could not be said about him. After all, he had children too, but it wouldn't be exaggeration to say that he himself was often like a kid who needed the mommy. Suddenly, Kerry felt an unpleasant, but painfully familiar pit in his stomach. Damn. He took a bite of the tortilla, hoping it would drive the gloomy thoughts away.
"How is it? Sabroso?" Kerry heard Mama Welles's voice as if it was reaching him from far away. He blinked a few times and did his best to focus.
"Y'know, I tried a lot of good food, but this… this's like an Aerondight among breakfasts," he said with his mouth full. "I officially declare my love to you, Mama Welles."
Kerry wasn't lying. A tortilla with sauce and eggs seemed to be a simple meal, but there was something in that combination of ingredients that took his taste buds to high altitudes. Maybe the hunger was that secret spice, but… damn, it was scrumptious.
The most important thing was that Mama Welles seemed pleased.
"You can come over with V next time. Mi casa es tu casa. Maybe you can make him visit old Mama more often."
"Have I just been adopted?" Kerry turned to V.
"Think so." V nodded and sipped his coffee. "You can consider yourself a proud son of Heywood now."
For a moment the only sounds in the kitchen were cutlery clinks and chewing. When all of them satisfied their hunger, Mama Welles supported her head with hands and gave them both the same piercing look that Kerry got in the hallway.
"Bien, chicos. Now tell me what kind of problema you two gotten yourselves into," she said in a serious tone.
Boom. Straight to the point, no charades. Kerry started to genuinely admire that woman. At first, she seemed elderly and weak, almost senile but now she reminded him of an NCPD officer. And of a bloody bright one.
"Took over a contract after my friend," started V. Apparently he knew there was no point in trying to discuss with Mama Welles. "A missing person case. The client is Angelo Hayward, a rich braindance producer… and it seems the kidnapper likes playing games."
V pulled out the dossier he got earlier from River. Mama Welles got up and took the skillet with the tomato sauce leftovers, just to make some more space, so it was possible for V to place the papers.
"That's the victim we need to find and take back." V put a photo on the table and pushed it towards Kerry. "Diane Hayward, thirty-four years old, the client's wife. Braindance actress, but she's not very famous… I'd rather say she's a second-league player."
"Porn?"
"Yep. Quite hardcore ones."
"I don't get it. How's that Hayward is such a rich fucker and his wife stars in skin flicks?" Kerry frowned.
"Beats me." V shrugged. "People have weird kinks."
Kerry leaned over and glanced at the photography. The woman in the picture seemed perfectly ordinary to him. Big dark eyes, full lips, pale skin. She looked neither ravishing, nor ugly, just a normal, pretty woman in her mid-thirties. Diane had some cyberware installed in her body – it all was golden plated, Hayward apparently didn't cheap out on her – but then again, the vast majority of people in that city had chrome already. She had her long hair dyed bright blue and that was probably the most distinctive physical feature he could notice.
There was, however, something else that caught Kerry's attention. Diane Hayward's looked truly pissed off in that photo. The photography was taken on the Dark Matter rooftop, he recognised the place immediately. Diane was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee was standing in front of her and it all seemed she was in the middle of afternoon chillout. And yet… there was something disturbing in her gaze. The photographer was sitting opposite Diane and she was staring straight into the camera, which gave Kerry an impression that she was angry at him.
Mama Welles took the photo and carefully looked at it. A hint of sadness appeared on her face.
"Pobre chica," she said. "V, you mentioned the kidnapper likes games."
V nodded and showed them both a small chip.
"BD, huh?" asked Kerry.
"Hayward got it in a letter. No addressee, no fingerprints except for his own, no anything. Just the chip in an envelope."
"I bet he watched it."
"Yeah. And had a meltdown after that."
Kerry grimaced.
"Ugh. That bad?"
"Guess Hayward just couldn't stand the fact it was Diane." V tapped the files with his index finger. "River wrote in the dossier there was no virus. And the braindance itself is apparently not that difficult or scary to watch. Not pleasant, but nothing that'd need censoring."
Mama Welles sighed.
"I knew you wouldn't last long without adrenaline, mijo." She shook her head. "And this time you dragged your… amigo into it."
"He didn't, Mama," protested Kerry. "Honestly, 'twas my own decision."
She looked at him for a moment with a mysterious face expression. Finally Mama Welles smiled, and reached for Kerry's and V's hands. She closed her eyes, still holding them both. It reminded Kerry of saying grace before a meal, with one difference – it was supposed to create a circle with all the participants' hands, so for the full impression he'd have to grab V's. Maybe Mama Welles was really praying, but rather than saying thanks for the food, she was asking her god that they both returned alive from the contract. Maybe she wished they could visit her again. Who knew?
It felt good, though. The touch of her warm hand evoked some strange nostalgia, some unnamed feelings in his mind. Kerry thought that he'd love to come back here one day, just to spend some more time with Mama Welles, get another tasty breakfast and pinch that warmth a little bit. V was so damn lucky to have this woman on his side.
"What are you gonna do now?" asked Mama Welles suddenly, letting them go, as if nothing happened.
"Well, I need to watch that BD first, Mama."
"Ya mean: we need to watch," interrupted Kerry. "We're workin' together."
"Yeah, yeah. We need to watch," corrected V. "I've got a portable BD wreath in the car so we can do it there."
Mama Welles raised her eyebrows upon hearing this.
"Like, where? In the car?" she asked with disbelief. "Use your old room, mijo. You never know how you'd react."
That was the moment Kerry got sure that V was right – she did seem to be the best person in this damn city.
"Fuck," cursed V, when they entered the room.
"What?"
V looked around, before answering.
"I… I don't think she touched anything. Jackie's stuff is still everywhere, as always," he whispered.
The place was really messy, even for Kerry's standards. There were clothes scattered on both beds and random guns here and there. He jumped when he stepped on something and heard a crunch, but it turned out to be just an empty bullet shell. It also seemed that nobody ventilated the room properly for a long time, because the musty stench was easily perceptible.
V took a deep breath and sat in a big armchair. He looked a bit disoriented, as if something heavy was lying on his chest.
"You okay, V?"
"Yeah," he gasped. "Yeah, just… Haven't been here since Jackie's death. Didn't think it'd hit me that hard. I can still smell his disgusting socks." He let a short laugh. "Ah, shit. Let's get this over with."
He inserted the chip into the wreath and put it on his head. Before turning the headset on, V did a short test and checked the calibration.
"First me, then you. If anything happens, this wreath's got a safety button behind the right ear."
And with that V just passed out into the world of braindance. He'd got his eyes half closed and his whole body was twitching from time to time. It almost seemed like V was peacefully napping in that armchair, his chest was moving up and down as he was slowly breathing and he also hung his head to one side.
"Everythin' allright?" asked Kerry. "No nasty surprises?"
V gave him a thumbs up. Apparently he didn't want to lose any second from that braindance. Sure, it was their first clue so it would be stupid to watch it briefly.
After five or six minutes V took off the headset. He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes.
"Done already?" said Kerry, astonished.
"As you can see. Damn, it's weird. It seems our kidnapper messed with that BD."
Kerry frowned.
"Whaddya mean?"
"Take a sit and look for yourself." V stood up and made an inviting gesture. "After all, we can't move on until you watch it too."
Kerry tried his best to get comfortable in that old armchair but stopped fidgeting when V leaned over his head and started installing the wreath. Installation took some time, as the equipment needed to be recalibrated to integrate with the new user's brainwaves. In the meantime, V was checking the rest of technical details. He even explained some of them, but Kerry wasn't listening. Technical stuff was very boring, but the truth was the smell of woody perfume shrouded him so suddenly he lost focus for a moment.
"Ready?"
"Think so."
As soon as the stroboscopic lights started pulsing, Kerry immediately felt sick. He did braindance before, many times, and always hated it. What was so great about artificial stimulating your brain when you could get the same effect in real life? Braindances were for losers. Of course he realised that for many people it was the only escape from the overwhelming reality, but still… It wasn't helping them. BDs should be banned or limited to some purposes only.
Just when he thought he was about to vomit, the session started.
He was walking up very dark stairs. There was almost complete silence, he could only hear his heavy breath and some muffled sounds from the outside. It was difficult to determine where exactly he was, but then he noticed a window and hoped he'd be able to look outside. However, when Kerry got closer to it, something strange happened. Heavy static appeared just before his eyes, making him feel sick again. It lasted for maybe two or three seconds, and when it faded, it turned out he'd passed the window already. The same situation repeated near every window he encountered and at another point when he was near a mirror on the wall.
Finally, Kerry stopped before the door. He pulled out a key, opened the lock and then pushed the doorknob.
He saw a small, stuffy room, which smelled of sweat and excrement. Kerry scrunched up his nose – it was really unpleasant. He looked around and then he saw Diane Hayward. She was sitting curled up in the corner, not moving. Her blue hair was all dirty and tangled.
Oh, how he hated that bitch.
That raw hatred hit Kerry's brain was so strong and sudden that he felt his head spinning a bit. He knew it was the artificial stimulation of the neurons, but fuck, that was too intense. He hoped that this braindance wouldn't last much longer.
"Let me out, you creep!" she shrieked.
Static again. As soon as it faded, Kerry saw the woman was slowly standing up and gritting her teeth. Her fists were tightly clenched.
"Why not?! What do you want from me?! What?!" she yelled in desperation. "It's over, I won't do that! Not again!"
Kerry started getting closer to Diane, but when he was so near he could easily see her frightened eyes, the whole thing ended.