"Why doesn't she just give you access if she wants this AI so bad?" asked Panam, once V finished telling everyone about Myers' call. "It would save us a lot of hassle."

"It's simple," Lucy cut in. "She wants to keep things hush-hush. Keep herself uninvolved . Plausible deniability." She rolled her eyes. "Corpos are all the same."

They were standing outside the hotel on the hologram waterfront, watching a flamboyance of fluorescent pink flamingos strutting along the make-believe beach, in the make-believe surf. Somewhere, a steel-drum rendition of Kokomo played from tinny ambient speakers, and Buster was humming along. "I love the goddamn Beach Boys," he shared, off-handedly. He laughed at the blank looks they gave him, adding, " Way before your time, kiddos."

"I know who the Beach Boys are," said V, hooking her thumbs in her belt-loops. "Just didn't figure you for someone who listened t'that kinda scop."

"Hey, watch your mouth," said Buster, grinning his steel rictus. "Better than that screaming shit you listen to. I can actually understand what the Beach Boys are saying." He leaned on the handrail and watched the beachfront, then said, "You know this hologram's a recreation of South Beach, in Miami? Beautiful place. Or was. Now it's full of trash. Water's toxic sludge now."

"Can't even imagine what the world was like in your day," said V, leaning her elbows on the handrail and looking up at Buster. "Kinda wish I did," she added, frowning.

"It wasn't perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than what it is now," said Buster. "I used to own a house in South Beach. Real nice one. Then the Crash of '94 happened, and I pretty much lost everything but my job. So did lots of people. Wife and I had to move into Militech housing. Tenements, pretty much. Eventually saved up enough money to put another down-payment on a house." Buster heaved a sigh. "Then Elizabeth Kress happened. Used eminent domain to take the land my housing development was built on to make room for a Militech factory." He shook his head. "World was better before the 90s. Before this," and he gestured around them. "Not great, but better. Now the world's just one big fucking Superbowl commercial."

V frowned. "I'm sorry, choom," she said, and meant it.

Buster snorted. "It's fine. Happened eons ago. I've done pretty well for myself, even in this shit-heap of a world." He mussed V's hair. "Like you, always been good at bouncing back, kid."

"I got something that might brighten your day a bit," said Lucy suddenly, smiling. "Got you guys on the guest-list to the station's most exclusive night-club. Event Horizon. Figure you guys could have some fun before the gig, cut loose a bit"

Judy beamed. "Fuckin' serious? You're the preemest, Lucy."

Ayako groaned. "I hate night-clubs," she said, kneading the space between her insets. "They're crowded, loud, and reek of too much cologne and sexual constipation. Not too mention all the fuckin' data-accretion in places like that. Real dense data, 'cause everyone's packed in like sardines. Like a DDOS attack on my neuro."

Judy looked at her. "C'mon, Ayako. Y'can't flake on us. One night ain't gonna kill you."

"Y'know we ain't gonna let you blow us off," agreed V, grinning. "And anyway," she continued, pushing off the handrail and moseying over to Ayako, "y'went to the bar with us before." She threw an arm across Ayako's shoulders. "Night-clubs, they're just big bars. 'Sides, you live in fuckin' Phoenix. If y'can process all that data without burnin' out, you'll be fine in a club. You're just tryin' to flake."

"I'm with the deckhead on this," said Buster, crossing his arms, the RealSkinn tattooed in 6th Street and military ink. "I hate night-clubs. I'm too old to be shaking my ass with a bunch of kids."

"Aw, c'mon, abuelo," said Judy, pulling the borg into a hug. Buster squirmed like a cat who couldn't decide whether or not it liked hugs. "Y'gotta show us how you and the cavemen used t'get down!"

"Sure, Alvarez. I'll start by clubbing you over the head and dragging you by the hair across the dance-floor."

Judy snorted, slapped him on the back. She grinned. "You're such a gonk-ass."

"God made me that way," agreed Buster, flashing his steel rictus.

They had a few hours to kill, so the group decided to disperse, check the station out.

V noted the heavy Militech presence around Neon Palms, mostly in the form of robots. The ESA maintained their own security team on the station from what V understood, but used Militech's bots for supplementary patrols and backup. "Myers is keeping an eye on you," said Gotoda, his ghost walking beside her. "But I suppose she already told you as much, Valerie-san."

"She did," confirmed V, and nodded, pushing her hands into the pockets of her Samurai jacket, idly studying the holodisplays and glass-fronted shop-fronts of New Ocean Drive. "Bitch really wants me t'do her dirty-work." She paused in front of a store, some Japanese franchise called Rainbow Dolphin, which seemed to primarily deal in high-end Shibuya fashionware. "Who fuckin' calls a fashionware store Rainbow Dolphin?" she asked Gotoda, absently.

"It started in Harajuku, like most things that do not make sense," answered Gotoda, staring at glittery pieces of hardware arranged in a molded slab of pearlescent plastic. He looked at her, his eyes rimmed in smudged black paintstick. "You should be careful when you go to Event Horizon tonight, Valerie-san."

"Why's that, Daisuke?"

"Oiwa."

V blinked. "Why would she fuckin' attack us there?"

"To raise hell," said Gotoda. "She revels in that kind of thing."

V remembered something Yuji had told her—something about positive feedback loops, how Oiwa was learning to enjoy violence. "Goddammit. Y'really think so?"

"It's a possibility," said Gotoda.

Judy joined her, sipping iced coffee from a plastic cup. "You're just starin' at the window," she said. "Goto talkin' to ya?"

"Yeah. Says Oiwa might hit us at the club."

Judy furrowed her brow. "No fuckin' way—not when she's sportin' 'Saka tech. She's got the fuckin' company logo stamped between her tits." She paused, slurping coffee up through a straw. Then, "How come they ain't shut her hardware down yet? Thought they could do that kinda shit. Repoware."

"She is an AI," said Gotoda. "She can easily bypass the locks."

"Goto says she can bypass the locks, bein' an AI and shit," said V, shrugging.

"Fuck, I hate AIs," said Judy, and shook her head.

They walked together, her and Judy, V's arm across her shoulders. Felt the distinct, cellular certainty that someone was on their ass. She turned her head, saw nothing. Not that she would, V reminded herself: Oiwa had metamaterial cloaking, could chameleon into any scenery. "She's following you," confirmed Gotoda, before V could ask him if that was the case.

"Why ain't she gonna attack us now?" asked V.

"Not optimal," said Gotoda.

"But she'll attack us in a fuckin' club?"

" Might attack you in the club," corrected Gotoda, and looked at her. "Event Horizon maintains its own security feeds. Closed-circuit. Very exclusive club. Lots of shady deals go down there, similar to Kurt Hansen's parties in Dogtown. Oiwa wants to raise hell, hai , but not to the point of getting the ESA on her ass. They have a Turing System on this station."

V had heard about Turing Systems. If an AI got too sadistic or violent, the Turing System kicked in, shut them down with a targeted ICEbreaker similar to Castlebreaker. V figured the only reason the Turing System hadn't shut off Sam was because of certain administrative privileges; Militech, like the other corpos, was a major client of the Crystal Palace, and enjoyed a lot of freedoms on the Highrider Net. But with the numerous scandals that had rocked Arasaka since Night City, V knew Yorinobu would happily let the ESA shut Oiwa down to spare the corporation even more embarrassment in the media. The Japanese, Ayako had once told her, took saving face very seriously, and although Arasaka would never admit Oiwa was theirs, they wouldn't have a choice when the ESA started threatening sanctions against them.

"So what you're tellin' me," said V, "is that she's a fuckin' pussy."

"She is deliberate," said Gotoda, smiling. "AI calculate optimums and sub-optimums, Valerie-san."

"She's waitin' for a blind spot with an audience," said V, shaking her head. "Fuckin' shit, this AI is fuckin' insane."

"No different than a human who finds pleasure in hurting others," said Gotoda. "That was always a risk when it came to AI sentience, Valerie-san. That they, like humans, could be susceptible to our darker personality traits."