After pointing it out, they walked past, and James waited at a nearby coffee kiosk.
J AMES watched Matt go to the bungalow and knock on the door. A sunny woman in her mid-thirties followed him over to James.
“Hi, James. I’m Lauryl,” she said in a smooth, low voice. He could read her agenda clearly: complete devotion to Blue resistance.
“This is my friend Alys’s kiosk. Why don’t we step inside?”
Matt just raised an eyebrow and dipped his head toward the kiosk. James raised an eyebrow back and followed her inside, Matt crowding in behind.
“You’re very quiet, Matt,” Lauryl commented.
He smiled. “This guy doesn’t need the regular reassurances.” He started digging in his pack.
It occurred to James that he was being very trusting. He wouldn’t normally follow anyone this blindly. His gut told him to go for it, and his implant sensed no threat. It hadn’t been wrong so far. He shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly at Lauryl.
Matt crouched down and planted his right leg in front of him. James watched him unseal the side seam of his all-weathers over the calf. He was trying to puzzle it out when Matt pressed hard on his calf muscle, and then the whole thing just slid down. “Holy shit!”
Matt grinned up at him. “Never seen that before, huh?” He went back to removing various devices from his hollow leg. A hollow, fake leg, with very convincing skin covering it.
“Th’fuck, Matt?” It wasn’t the fake leg; it was that Matt had it. “What happened?”
“Old-tech landmine in New Mexico. About four years ago. This is my super-fancy secret agent prosthesis, aka tech-pantry.”
James was speechless. Matt would have been what? Nineteen? Way too fucking young to lose a leg. It happened, he knew it. He just didn’t want it happening to anyone he knew. Or maybe to Matt.
James tried to choke out an appropriate response. “Guess it could have been worse.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Could have been an atomizer mine.” God, what a lame thing to say. He wanted to kick himself. Maybe he could borrow Matt’s leg to do it.
“I tell myself that every morning after I’ve slept on the ground.”
“Guess I’ll be telling you this trip,” James mumbled. Lame. Lame, lame, lame, lame-o .
“Here we go.” Matt handed a tiny flat case and a small recoder up to Lauryl. James had forgotten she was there, she was so still, mentally and physically. She nodded and waited for Matt to put himself back together.
“When’s your next check-in?” Lauryl turned to James.
“Gut feeling? I think I’m good until tomorrow at 0800. But we have to talk.”
Matt stood up, stomping his leg to get his pant leg to settle around his boot. “Always something, isn’t it?”
“The meeting this morning. My new ‘caseworker’ said my chip is malfunctioning. Supposed to go in at 0800 and get a whole new one.”
Matt whistled. “That’d be a bitch.” He took the recoder from Lauryl and read James’s chip. “Shit.”
“What?”
“It’s tracking. They’re either lying to you and putting something else in, or it’s only malfunctioning part of the time.”
Then it clicked for James. “Um, Lauryl, can you wait outside for us?” She just nodded and left, no questions asked.
James concentrated a moment. Then he looked at Matt. “Try it now.”
Matt knelt down to get a clearer reading from the higher nano concentration in James’s femur, although they should have circulated all through his bloodstream.
“Fuck me running,” Matt said softly. “It’s completely wacko, now.” He was staring intently at the recoder. Then he suddenly looked up at James. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re messing with it.”
James nodded, struck mute by Matt’s position. He was on his knees in front of him, head level with his dick. His blue eyes looked straight into James’s.
Fuuuuuuck. Instant wood.
Matt glanced at the recoder again. “This’s weird, James. It’s reading like you’re doing
J AMES watched Matt go to the bungalow and knock on the door. A sunny woman in her mid-thirties followed him over to James.
“Hi, James. I’m Lauryl,” she said in a smooth, low voice. He could read her agenda clearly: complete devotion to Blue resistance.
“This is my friend Alys’s kiosk. Why don’t we step inside?”
Matt just raised an eyebrow and dipped his head toward the kiosk. James raised an eyebrow back and followed her inside, Matt crowding in behind.
“You’re very quiet, Matt,” Lauryl commented.
He smiled. “This guy doesn’t need the regular reassurances.” He started digging in his pack.
It occurred to James that he was being very trusting. He wouldn’t normally follow anyone this blindly. His gut told him to go for it, and his implant sensed no threat. It hadn’t been wrong so far. He shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly at Lauryl.
Matt crouched down and planted his right leg in front of him. James watched him unseal the side seam of his all-weathers over the calf. He was trying to puzzle it out when Matt pressed hard on his calf muscle, and then the whole thing just slid down. “Holy shit!”
Matt grinned up at him. “Never seen that before, huh?” He went back to removing various devices from his hollow leg. A hollow, fake leg, with very convincing skin covering it.
“Th’fuck, Matt?” It wasn’t the fake leg; it was that Matt had it. “What happened?”
“Old-tech landmine in New Mexico. About four years ago. This is my super-fancy secret agent prosthesis, aka tech-pantry.”
James was speechless. Matt would have been what? Nineteen? Way too fucking young to lose a leg. It happened, he knew it. He just didn’t want it happening to anyone he knew. Or maybe to Matt.
James tried to choke out an appropriate response. “Guess it could have been worse.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Could have been an atomizer mine.” God, what a lame thing to say. He wanted to kick himself. Maybe he could borrow Matt’s leg to do it.
“I tell myself that every morning after I’ve slept on the ground.”
“Guess I’ll be telling you this trip,” James mumbled. Lame. Lame, lame, lame, lame-o .
“Here we go.” Matt handed a tiny flat case and a small recoder up to Lauryl. James had forgotten she was there, she was so still, mentally and physically. She nodded and waited for Matt to put himself back together.
“When’s your next check-in?” Lauryl turned to James.
“Gut feeling? I think I’m good until tomorrow at 0800. But we have to talk.”
Matt stood up, stomping his leg to get his pant leg to settle around his boot. “Always something, isn’t it?”
“The meeting this morning. My new ‘caseworker’ said my chip is malfunctioning. Supposed to go in at 0800 and get a whole new one.”
Matt whistled. “That’d be a bitch.” He took the recoder from Lauryl and read James’s chip. “Shit.”
“What?”
“It’s tracking. They’re either lying to you and putting something else in, or it’s only malfunctioning part of the time.”
Then it clicked for James. “Um, Lauryl, can you wait outside for us?” She just nodded and left, no questions asked.
James concentrated a moment. Then he looked at Matt. “Try it now.”
Matt knelt down to get a clearer reading from the higher nano concentration in James’s femur, although they should have circulated all through his bloodstream.
“Fuck me running,” Matt said softly. “It’s completely wacko, now.” He was staring intently at the recoder. Then he suddenly looked up at James. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re messing with it.”
James nodded, struck mute by Matt’s position. He was on his knees in front of him, head level with his dick. His blue eyes looked straight into James’s.
Fuuuuuuck. Instant wood.
Matt glanced at the recoder again. “This’s weird, James. It’s reading like you’re doing
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