The inner district streets looked just as alien to me as they had the last time I walked through them, though for a different reason altogether.

Last time, everyone's carefreeness and casual attitude had blown me away. They didn't seem worried about their well-being so much as they were worried about finding a way to spend their money. It made me feel a little resentful.

Now, people were pretending like their day was going just fine and dandy, thank you very much. But there was a twitchiness and hesitation to them that had been absent before. It wasn't very noticeable in the behavior of children, because kids will be kids everywhere outside of the slums, but the adults?

Well, the adults were afraid. And for a good reason.

The Peacekeeper androids were out in full force. They looked nothing like the middle district clankers I'd seen the one time I ventured there. Instead of old, clumsy-looking models, these were sleek monstrosities of steel that could have passed for full borgs, in both ability and intelligence.

Well, actually, I'll be honest and say they were probably smarter than an average borg. Those tended to have all sorts of issues when they passed a certain flesh-to-metal percentage.

Weirdly enough, the tension and the clankers helped. One, because I always knew exactly where the biggest threat on the street was, and two, because they were drawing most of the eyes around me. I still shuddered a little and wanted to hide whenever someone looked at me a little too closely, but the feeling was easier to deal with.

Plus, there was pretty much nothing anyone could do to get me down at that point. Amelia wasn't going to chase me off or try and take my head herself! I could have hummed a happy little tune.

Even if the aforementioned girl was being difficult.

"Really, I don't understand why you can just give me the address," I griped.

"Because this is more fun. Do you want to follow a glowing arrow on the ground, or do you want my alluring voice to guide you to your destination? Also, take a left here."

I sighed. "We have very different definitions of 'alluring.'"

Actually, I was kinda fond of her voice. It was soft, sure, but with an underlying note of steel and teasing that never really went away. She could congratulate me with full sincerity, and I'd still wonder if she was having a joke at my expense somehow.

Following her instructions required crossing the street. This wasn't all that difficult, seeing as traffic had mostly dried up outside of rush hour. I still zoned out her annoyed grumbling about how I didn't appreciate her enough, focusing instead on not getting hit by the few scarce cars.

I also made sure to use the designated crossing. It was still wild to me that people followed such arbitrary rules in the inner districts. I mean, if some asshole was set on not slowing down to avoid hitting you, what were the lines on the ground supposed to do? Frankly, I'd bet passing the street outside of the marked areas was safer. At least you didn't have some made-up safety rule lulling you into a false sense of security.

Not that heavy traffic was something I was used to at all. It really wasn't a thing in the slums.

"How much longer, oh alluring one?"

"You're eventually going to regret calling me that, I promise. And you'll be coming up on the bar in, like… ten minutes? Faster if you hurry, obviously, but you're moving so slow I want to cry. I can't believe I'm vicariously living through you and you completely refused my awesome parkour idea."

"You wanted me to travel over the rooftops. Do you want me to get shot? Or arrested? Or plummet to my death? No? Then please drop all mention of similar insanity."

"I totally saw people doing it, I'll have you know."

"In person?"

"Well… no. But there was this one guy who made a ton of videos and XPRs. They have a whole setup up there! High speed runner lanes, zip lines, launch pads!"

"Made a ton of videos and XPRs? Where's he now?"

"Um, well, I heard… he fell, had to get a bunch of surgeries, and was then promptly arrested?"

I paused and sighed again, throwing my head back like the sky might break open and grant me enlightenment. "So… you want me to copy the guy who almost died and ended up… wherever police are actually supposed to take you when they arrest you?"

"Jail, or prison. And what do you mean 'supposed to'?" she quipped back, completely dropping the previous conversation. It was a great demonstration of exactly why I had such a hard time differentiating between when she was fucking with me and when she was being serious.

"I mean that police really don't arrest you when they catch you doing something illegal in the slums. When they're actually in the slums. Which isn't often. They're not prone to arrests in the outer districts, either. Though, really, it's more like outer district."

"What the fuck do they do instead then? Just let people go home? And what's up with the district/districts thing?"

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"You know, you're so smart and all, I keep forgetting you've got no idea what's it like out there. They don't arrest people because they just shoot them instead."

Amelia choked, but she didn't say anything, so I went on.

"And, eh, the outer district technically has, well, different districts, but…"

"What? They shoot those too?" She was pretending to grouse, but she sounded genuinely upset.

"No, they just fell into disrepair. No one's really keeping track of anything other than their building and apartment number. Didn't even know you could barricade whole districts off until today. Violence in the outer district is rarer than in the slums, but when it does happen, it spills all over the place. So, really, it's just one large, messy living area that winds around the outside of the city."

She took a minute to respond. When she did, she still didn't sound all that happy. "I guess I knew that. In a weird, abstract way. Everyone says living in the outer districts or the slums sucks ass, but…"

"It's different actually hearing about it? Yeah, I'd bet. Would be even more different if you decided to visit eventually," I pointed out, feeling a prickle of fear at the thought.

I knew I could deal with it. I'd lived there my whole life. Something didn't sit right about taking Amelia there, though.

Besides, I couldn't deny that I was getting used to things like good food, nice company, and a complete lack of direct threats to my life. I'd never experienced being completely unafraid, without even a whisper at the back of my head that someone would come for me eventually, but this was as close as I'd ever gotten to that.

To be cruelly honest, I didn't want to go back. Far too much fear, guilt, and general suffering were tied up with the idea of the slums and the outer district in my mind.

"Take the next right, and you should see the bar soon enough. Kristie's Dive." Amelia sounded distracted, so I glanced at her image in the lower left corner of my vision.

She had a far-off look in her eyes as she gnawed absently on a spoon. There was a tub of something in her lap, and she had propped the scroll up against something so she had her hands free.

I had to fight off the urge to scoff. There we were, discussing the slums, and she was indulging as only an inner district resident could. I'd bet whatever dessert she was munching on even had real fruit!

I was tempted to grumble at the injustice of it all, but I held it in as I took the turn she had indicated. It led me into a stunningly well-kept alley between two megabuildings.

I spotted my target immediately.

The name of the dive bar was marked in bright neon lights. Because of course it was. Simple name design attached to a cocktail glass, so at least it was classier than similar places I was familiar with. I was soon within spitting distance of it, and I still hadn't spotted any promo material involving scantily dressed people or joytoys actually hanging out near the door.

I did, however, see more than a few 'tough' guys and women going in and out of the establishment. Well, credit where credit was due, all of them looked built to the point where they'd be able to crush me with one hand. But still. Most of them didn't actually give off that dangerous vibe that would have had me in a hurry to cross the street, were I to encounter them in the slums.

There were a few very notable exceptions, of course.

For example, I did see a man and a woman slip inside the bar, and both of them made me walk just a little slower and more cautiously. I didn't back off, but a small, street rat part of me was insisting that I should.

"I see it."

"I know. I'm looking through your eyes, silly."

I ignored my flushed cheeks and finally approached the door to the bar just as a group left, letting me snake my hand out and stop it from slamming shut automatically. Swing doors. A relative rarity. I was pretty sure the door was made of actual wood, too.

That impression only strengthened when I stepped into the establishment, which was built into the side of a megabuilding. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling. The lights were both few and dim. They had a nice crowd going. The majority were dancing in a central area recessed deep into the floor, grinding along to some song with a soft beat and unintelligible lyrics.

Really, the dance floor took up most of the space inside the bar. I had to wonder if they were missing the point with their signage if the dancing was their main draw. Still, the passage that stretched alongside the walls of the place was four people wide, and it was dotted with stools, private tables, and many classic bar setups. There were even drunks pressed against the various counters and heckling the bartenders.

I spotted doors behind the bars on the wall opposite the entrance. I had to assume those led to the employee bits of the establishment, along with an emergency exit or two. Otherwise, the only way in and out of the place was through the front door.

I didn't particularly like that. I had to assume there were cameras trained on that door twenty-four seven, so just following my targets into and then out of the bar would likely be noted. I'd be put on the list of suspects, at the very least, if anyone bothered to investigate their deaths. Whatever Amelia and I ended up planning, I'd probably have to do it outside somewhere.

That, of course, left me with a far more immediate problem.

I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do now.

"Um… Amelia? What do I do?"

"What do you mean, what do you do?" This time, that teasing tone was overwhelmingly noticeable in her voice.

"I mean, I just walked into a bar! I can't walk out immediately. It would look suspicious."

"Typically, people would order a drink."

"With what money?!"

"Check your hoodie pocket."

"What are you even…" I trailed off when I stuck my hands into my left pocket and my fingers immediately brushed against something. I didn't need to pull it out to know what it was.

Somehow, she'd slipped me a credit chip.

"Amelia, what the fuck?"

"You've got a thousand credits on there. Before you object, you might need them for when we're pulling off the, um, let's call it The Mission. You never know when you could use a few credits."

"A few. Few! Besides, I can't believe you expect me to drink."

"Because you're such a goodie two shoes? What, you want me to check the legal drinking age and get you a fake ID?"

That actually got me to snort. Yeah, I didn't think people checked for those things, even in the core district. Considering that place was filled with rich assholes… they definitely didn't check there.

"This is a mistake. I don't even know how alcohol is going to affect me after all the nonsense your daddy dearest put me through," I complained. Still, driven by a desire not to stick out like a sore thumb, I'd already ventured close to a bar and joined the line.

A wild-haired, sweaty guy trying to bust his top with all his bulging muscles was loudly discussing something with the bartender. Then he turned his head enough to catch sight of me, and he did a subtle double-take.

I stiffened, all sorts of wild assumptions streaming through my mind.

What I didn't expect was for him to turn towards me with a blinding smile. "Hey there! First time seeing you here… what's your poison? I figure I could buy the newbie a drink."

I blinked at him in confusion, Amelia's laughter suddenly ringing in my ears.

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