V wasn't sure where Meredith had gone, but figured she was trying to cut some kind of deal with Myers. Militech had locked her, Panam, and Judy in a cell—the Phoenix Militech building, V discovered, maintained a detention center for dissenters and ex-corpos who were awaiting transport to penal camps out in New Mexico—until things blew over with Juan Torres's reign of terror. Things had been quiet since, and V was getting antsy. If Myers wanted her to sweat it out, which V was sure she did, it was working.

"Got no choice but to help her," said V, feeling absolutely defeated. She knew Panam and Judy understood that, but she felt like she still needed to defend herself, justify her decision. "She knows that," she said, frowning. She stared at the blank steel walls of their cell, at the electronic door she could've hacked if Militech hadn't cut off her cyberware, feeling like a lobotomized animal caged inside a lockbox. "Can't let her fuckin' do what she plans to, we don't assist."

Judy shook her head. "Nobody's blamin' you, calabacita."

Panam smiled reassuringly. "Yeah," she agreed, "we know you don't have a choice, Valerie. You can't let people die for that bitch's ego."

V opened her mouth to speak, shut it. Movement outside the door—some kind of scuffle. She heard the Militech heavies swear and rattle off gunshots, the flash and thunder of smart-fire. The door heaved in its frame, its composite-steel crumpling like cheap aluminum as it separated from the reinforced flange-hinges and hit the floor. Buster stepped into their cell, grinning his steel grin, Yuji right behind him. An alarm started to wail.

"You going to get off your asses?"

"I ain't never been happier t'see you, y'oversized multitool," said V, grinning.

Buster tore off their restraints, crushing them smoothly in his huge fist and dropping the shards to the floor. "I like you kids. What can I say?"

Yuji approached them. He lifted his infovisor, the microlights in his oculars lighting up. "Ah," he said, "they locked your cyberware, V-san. And did a poor job of it, too. One moment."

V felt something unlock inside her, like Yuji had flipped some invisible switch. She ran a quick 'ware-scan, laughing when it all came back green. "Man," she said, "you 'Mancers are incredible."

"It was nothing," said Yuji, the microlights guttering out, infovisor dropping over his eyes. "I simply had to modify a boolean function in your hardware, flag it true instead of false." He gestured toward the open doorway with his smart-rifle. "We must leave before more reinforcements mobilize," he told them. "My people are keeping the onsite personnel busy, but that will only last so long. We need to get up to the roof."

Buster dropped a bag at their feet. "Your weapons, kiddos. Think the ugly pink thing is Alvarez's."

"The Chaos," said Panam, taking her sawed-off from inside the duffle bag and tucking it inside her racer-jacket. "That's what she calls her gun."

"Cute. Got a name for yours too, roadrunner?"

"Hah. Roadrunner. Never heard that one before," said Panam, rolling her eyes.

"Could call you blacktopper, pavement-licker, dunebug—"

"How about you just call me Panam?" said Panam. She stared at Buster for a moment, her poker-face dissolving into laughter. "Anyway," she said, "to answer your question, no, I don't name my guns. But maybe I should."

"Gotta couple suggestions for ya," said V, strapping on her Malorian's leather shoulder-rig and shit-grinning at Panam. "Bugs Buckshot. Buckshot Rogers of the 21st Century, Master Blaster—"

"Shut up, Valerie," interrupted Panam, smirking.

"How about you?" said Buster. "You name your guns, Valerie?"

V grinned. "Sure. Maybe start callin' it Johnny. He'd be real flattered, namin' somethin' kills all these corpos after him."

"Come on," said Yuji, peeking around the door. "We must go to the roof. The Surveyor is up there."

They slipped out of the cell, heading for the stairwell. The elevators were no-gos; if they crammed into one of those, V knew, they'd be sitting ducks for Militech.

A couple Militechs came at them, but the guys were geared pretty light—probably security boys, V decided. Most of Militech's heavier units were out in the streets.

Buster swiped the one security-man to the side, his bones cracking loud under the impact of the blow, and brained him against the wall with a single, hard shove. Then raised his multitool hand and pointed it at the other guy, the thing transforming into a skeletal handcannon, blowing his head into a wet spray of gristle and meat-pulp.

"Goddamn, Buster," said Judy, with a whistle of appreciative awe. "Remind me not to piss y'off."

"Don't worry about that, kid," said the borg. "I actually like you."

"Didja actually say somethin' nice for once?" said V.

"Don't get used to it, shortstack." Then, to Judy, "You neither, Alvarez."

"How about me? You like me, too?" asked Panam.

Buster studied her for a moment, his CRT oculars shuttering in the approximation of blink. "Don't know you too well yet, but you seem okay for a roadrat."

"I'm not a rat," she said, scowling.

"Don't get your panties all knotted up, Nomad-girl. Didn't mean it in a bad way. I like Nomads."

"S'his way of showin' affection," said V. "Buster, he's got names for everyone."

"Sorry," said Buster, to Panam. "Didn't mean to offend you."

Panam peered at him for a moment, then smiled. "It's fine, tinman."

Buster gave a gruff laugh. "Except I got a heart." He thumped his chest for emphasis. "About the only 'ganic thing I got left, other than a few other bits and pieces."

"Y'never replaced it?" asked V, surprised.

"Nope," said Buster. "Got it bolstered, but that's about it. Beats loud and fast, a little arrhythmic. Hear it in my ears. Heartbeat reminds me that I'm not all machine, that there's still some human left in there." He looked at Judy, then said, "My advice to you, Alvarez? When you become a ripperdoc, and you will, just do the work—don't become the work."

"What's with that tone? Sound like you're givin' a eulogy," said Judy, knitting her eyebrows. "Y'okay, Buster?"

Buster smiled, something almost wistful in it. "Not yet, kiddo."

Inside the stairwell, they scuffled with some soldier-boys, but it was nothing V couldn't handle. She hit the neuroswitch on her Sandevistan until the world slug-crawled around her, winding the filament out from is casing, whipping the razor-wire fishline up, then down, dicing two Militechs into oblong chunks that seemed to float through the air like things suspended in zero-gravity.

She smoothly danced up the steps, flowing around and under slow-moving bullet-ripples, weaving out hairfine arcs of wire-lightning, bodies tumbling apart in slow-motion red clouds….

V switched off the Sandevistan, and as time contracted and stabilized, she took out the final Militech with the Malorian, ventilating the contents of his skull just as the blood-splatter of his compatriots hit the floor, slicking the green marble. She felt warm blood trickle onto her upper-lip, her joints aching, and her occipital throbbing like a drum.

"Don't push the Sandevistan too much, V-san," warned Yuji, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is a modified Sandevistan—specced for cyberspace, not realspace. Given that it is meant for cyberspace, it means its neural demand is much greater than a standard combat Sandevistan."

"Meanin'," said V, wiping the blood from her nose, "that it'll cook my skullsponge, I use it too much."

Yuji nodded gravely. "Precisely."

"Y'heard him, babe," said Judy, furrowing her brow. "Knock that shit off." She gave her a light shove, then said, "Don't need you dyin' before we even get a chance to introduce your ass to the rip-chair in that preem Crystal Palace clinic."

"It is a very preem clinic," said Yuji, smiling. "Technomancer clinic. It's designed to interface with AI through proxies."

"Whoah, wait a sec," said V. "It's run by a fuckin' AI ?"

"Only AI we permit to access the system through a vetted proxy," said Yuji. "There is no AI housed there, V-san. Relax."

"So it's like… a medium contacting a spirit, letting it speak through them?" hazarded Panam.

Yuji nodded. "Yes, exactly."

They reached the rooftop, hearing the sound of gunshots far below. A thunderstorm was rolling in: fat, blue clouds bubbling on the horizon, roiling toward Phoenix. The Surveyor was hovering a couple meters above the concrete helipad; a Mexican Technomancer threw down a rope-ladder, told them to hurry up and climb.

"V."

V whipped around, pointing her Malorian at Myers. She was flanked on either side by some Militech heavies, and Meredith. The president of the NUSA was pointing a mil-grade coilgun at her, heavy and awkward in her perfectly manicured hand. "Gotta delta, Myers," said V, edging back toward the AV.

She felt the concrete explode beside her booted foot, some of the shards catching her in the leg, slicing through her black jeans.

Warm blood trickled down her leg. A crater the size of a pothole steamed with residual heat beside her boot.

"That was just a warning," said Myers, unimpressed. "I want your answer."

Meredith looked like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. V didn't know why she felt betrayed; she should have expected a corpo to throw her under the bus, but she'd hoped, against her better judgment, Meredith would have been different.

Buster stepped in front of V, looming over Myers. "You fire that at her again," he warned, "I'll tear your goddamn head off and shove it up your ass—president of the NUSA or not." His CRT lenses turned on Meredith. "And you," he said, "are a real piece of shit."

The Militech heavies trained their coil-rifles on Buster. "Buster Kilroy," said Myers, like she was greeting an old friend, "it's been years."

"Yeah, and you're still as much of a cunt now as you were back then," he replied.

"Listen," said Yuji, "we must get aboard—"

Yuji didn't finish his sentence, half his torso dissolving into meat-spray. He rocked for a moment on his boots, then toppled back without a sound, his smart-rifle clattering to the concrete.

"Oh, V," said Myers, the coilgun still smoking, the reek of burnt magnets hanging in the air, "working with Arasaka's corporate spies, too? You're digging your grave deeper and deeper."

Panam pulled her sawed-off, but V put a hand up, shook her head. She looked down at Yuji's corpse; most of his torso was gone, pulped to mincemeat. "Don't," she said to Panam, "just don't." Panam looked at her like she wanted to argue, but V shook her head, firm. "Don't want you windin' up like Yuji. Please. Do it for me." When Panam wouldn't lower her gun, V said, "C'mon, don't make me fuckin' beg."

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Panam said, "Fine," and lowered the sawed-off.

"Fine, Myers," said V, looking at her, "you got your fuckin' deal."

"Fantastic," said Myers, still pointing her iron at them. "If you fuck me over, V," she continued, evenly, "you will regret it. I'm not a woman who makes idle promises." Then she smiled, almost genially. "Your country thanks you for your service."