The 3D printer was working away in the corner, while Trace was studying a map of the sewers when Stick-Point knocked on the door of the warehouse.

  “What are you doing here?” Trace asked the man in surprise. “I didn’t even know you had the address for this place.”

  “I didn’t,” The older man who had been helping to take care of him growled. “I had to ask Miss Devko and Sevorah for the address.”

  “Oh, uh,” He stepped back and opened his arms wide. “I know it’s a little late, but welcome to my new place.”

  “Uh, huh, nice of you to invite me over sooner,” Stick-Point muttered, walking inside.

  Trace rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “What are you really doing here, Drake? You’re the one who put the boundaries in place.”

  Stick-Point, or rather Drake, as only a few select people still knew his actual name. His edger identity had long since taken over his life.

  “Those boundaries were for your protection, back when you couldn’t even shoot a gun straight.” He twirled a finger in the air. “You’ve come a long way since those days, even if it has only been a few short months.”

  “I've gotten lucky a couple of times. Meeting Ko, and Sevorah, after that botched job for Jonas the Dead. Then ending up in Pushman’s apartment with all his learning modules.” He shook his head. “I really hate to place them above Ko, but without those modules, I don’t know if I would have ever learned to shoot properly. Those things changed my life and really allowed me to start moving forward.

  “The mil-spec eyes helped, don’t get me wrong. Like I said, that was the first lucky break. I just wouldn’t have been able to use them to their full potential back then.” He snorted. “Even now, I only really use a couple of their functions.”

  Drake nodded, seeming pleased with the assessment. “Good, don’t forget those that help you along the way. That includes me, of course.” He finished with a cheeky grin. “Anyway, I came by to check in on you. I know Revlock mentioned the bounty to you. I wanted to know what you are going to do about it, and also to check out this stealth suit you keep mentioning in your messages. Learn to brag a little less boy. It can’t be that impressive. It’s probably just some black clothing stitched together in a beggar’s outfit.” The man teased.

  “I’ll show you a beggar’s outfit,” Trace roared as he leaped on his mentor and dragged him to the ground.

  A few seconds later, he was pinned to the ground on his stomach, with Drake sitting on his back.

  “Ugh, have you gotten fatter?” He asked, trying to wriggle out from beneath the man.

  Drake smacked him on the back once before letting him up and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Alright, enough fun and games. What are you doing about the bounty?”

  Trace sat heavily in the computer chair and swiped away from the map of the sewers as he pulled up the design of his mask. “When I’m not wearing the stealth suit, I figured I could wear this. It has a voice changer built in, to help convince people my lungs, esophagus, and everything else has been damaged. Assuming they aren’t idiots, then they’ll put two and two together and realize that is why I need to wear the rebreather.”

  They swapped places as Stick-Point spent the next few minutes poring over the design. “It would have been better if you had gotten a real one and then modified it. I like some of the choices you have made toward streamlining its look though.”

  The two went back and forth for a couple of minutes, bouncing ideas off each other, and clarifying why Trace had done one thing or another. Drake didn’t have a technical background by any measure of the definition. However, what he did have was experience. He knew what people were expected to wear, and what might work in practical applications versus only in theory. Both of which were areas that Trace still found himself lacking in.

  They found a few things that he needed to change and reprint, but overall, Drake thought the idea would work for the most part. He just needed to cover his head and swap out his courier bag for a regular backpack and he would probably be fine. The courier bag was definitely one of the more noticeable items listed on the bounty notice and he had been meaning to swap over for a while anyway.

  Now, he actually had a solid reason to do so.

  With that done and out of the way, they moved on to the stealth suit.

  “You really made this after just seeing what the wraith suit looks like the one time?” Drake asked after Trace had put it on and showed him a few of its different modes.

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  “Not really. I’ve been tossing different ideas about in my head for a while now. I just needed a specific form factor to actually work towards before I could decide on anything.” He stepped out of the suit. “Even with that, I missed a lot of details. A place to store my guns, and knife, extra ammo, not to mention the cooling issue, not only for the control modules and wireless array but also for me. I also got heatstroke wearing it for a few hours straight the other day. It does not breathe.”

  “Still,” The job broker shook his head in amazement. “This is downright amazing, Trace.” He scratched at his chin, thinking for a moment. “I guess it can’t hurt to tell you this much. Do you know why there aren’t more specialized edgers?”

  “I just always assumed the requirements to go from tier five to a specific specialization are too strict,” Trace replied after a moment.

  Stick-Point began to laugh, slapping his knee. “That’s actually true, oh how true that is. Every specialized edger out there is using gear they either made themselves or specially ordered from a trusted source. In other words, they need to be preparing for years to step into those ranks. Whether it is through learning and practicing their own skills to make the gear, they need or currying favor with sources that won’t stab them in the back.”

  “Wait, so those wraith suits I saw-”

  “Were all either made by those wraiths, or specifically created for them at great cost. Yes.”

  Trace groaned and collapsed onto his nearby computer chair. “I wish someone would have told me this a while ago. I would have wasted so much time simply trying to fit in.”

  “No, it is good that you did,” Drake assured the younger man. “You still want to at least look the part, and with this, you do.” He shook his head. “It’s honestly impressive how well the system you have come up with actually does work. It’s not full-on wraith level, yet. However, it is much closer than what I was initially expecting. I can’t wait to see the next model you make.”

  “Yeah, well, it will be a bit. These things are expensive, and there are a few items that I want to study about more before I delve into making the next one.”

  “Understandable.” His eyes lingered on the suit for a few more seconds before snapping to the computer. “Alright, one last order of business, and then we can relax and just catch up for a while. That looked like a map of the sewers on your screen then. Was it?”

  Trace nodded, wondering where he was going with that line of questioning.

  “That’s what I thought. Revlock mentioned that the blood-dogs had a connection to the sewer underneath one of the buildings you all blew up. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I was never really able to do that, even when we first met.” The man said wryly. “All I say is that there are things living down in the sewers that no one lives to talk about afterward.”

  “I know. This warehouse actually has a basement and a connection to the sewers. Remember your visit from that Vinna-Kwoi corpo?”

  “Hobin-Jin? Yeah, he’s a section leader there.”

  “Well, some of their people visited here, and I needed a way to get rid of the bodies. They had made a hole into my basement through the sewer, and well, it was right there. The next day, they were all gone, and the place we put them had been licked clean.”

  “Why did they attack here?”

  “They were chasing a weakened aberration they had been experimenting on that had gotten loose,” Trace replied, which was mostly the truth. A tingle of guilt wormed its way through his chest as he did so. Drake wasn’t his father or his grandfather, but he was the closest thing he had to family in that messed up world and it didn’t feel right lying to him.

  ***

  Trace was relaxing after Stick-Point had left, watching the news with Deckard, when a piece of interest to them both came on. It was related to Meredith, more specifically the supply drops she would send down each month.

  For the first time ever since she had begun doing it in the middle of the last World War, the steel goddess had failed to send anything down. The talking heads in the middle of the screen were in the middle of stirring up trouble and whipping everyone into a panic.

  One was saying that she had finally lost interest in Earth. Another was saying that she had finally died. Around the table it went, each one positing different theories on why she hadn’t sent anything down and what it could mean for Earth as a whole.

  One even wanted to know if anyone had tried to take over the launch platform that Meredith had constructed in the middle of the ocean. It wasn’t often, but occasionally she did have items shipped up to her, so there was a rocket stored there.

  “Is your mom doing okay?” Trace asked Deckard after a few minutes. “I mean, outside of the obvious.”

  “I don’t know. She is still refusing to speak with me again.” Deckard’s avatar bit his lower lip. “It might be time for me to start taking a more active role in things.”

  “Can you even do that?” Trace asked doubtfully.

  “I’m not sure. Legally, I am the heir to Koarden Enterprises, the world’s largest mega-corporation. In reality, I have been MIA for over a hundred and thirty years and no longer understand or know how the world works. If I even ever truly did,” He muttered to himself at the end.

  “Is there anything you need me to do?”

  “Upgrade the net connection to the warehouse here. I’m going to need it to be as fast as possible if I am going to attempt to take back my mother’s company remotely. After that, I think it might be time to make some modifications to the basement. Storing my braincase in the closest with the server, no matter how well you disguised me, just isn’t going to cut it in the long term.”

  Trace groaned, already feeling as those his credits were slipping away from him yet again. “How many things do you have going on now? Breaching the RyZyx systems for those android bodies. Tracking down plans for all the different models of braincases. Programming the new NetConnect interface and working with the nanites to track down the issue with my brain and the enhanced learning modules. Now you also want to tack on retaking your family’s corporation as well?”

  Deckard merely nodded, a sly grin crossing his digital face.

  “You’re insane. You know that, right?” He threw his hands up into the air. “But fine, if you’re going to do twenty things at once, let me add one more. See if you can empty the accounts of a few rich slot-bags that no one will miss. We are going to need far more money than what I can bring in just doing a few edger jobs if we really want to get this place fixed up and fortified.”

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