scenes from a cyberpunk road story, pt. ii

It's just cold by the time we get to New York, the kind of cold where the air burns your lungs even as the sun shines down on you with false promises of warmth. This is the kind of cold that kills.

I do not own a heavy enough jacket for this.

Still, even though Morgan says her sister has taken care of the surveillance to make sure nobody notices that we're here, it's a good opportunity to slip into town unnoticed. There are ways to identify someone who's bundled up for winter, but they don't use that sort of tech for casual surveillance, and I don't think anyone's looking for us here just yet.

Morgan's driving, because this is her town, even if she hates it. But she navigates like she knows it, and pulls into the parking lot of some building I instinctively think is too nice. These places aren't for people like us--well, people like me.

The woman waiting for us looks like Morgan if she were a little taller and a little thinner and a lot more interested in fashion. Morgan's parka is a dingy black thing, warm and functional and street-stylish. This woman's navy blue coat dress is the sort of designer brand that only even sells to corporate royalty. Somehow simultaneously understated and ostentatious.

"I like your jacket," she tells me. "I'm Elizabeth. I'm sorry that my sister has forgotten her manners."

"Nora," I say. "Thank you." Then, because I feel like she's expecting something more, "It's not the best jacket for winter. It doesn't get that cold where I grew up."

"I'll find something for you," she says cheerfully. "You two are popular right now, did you know?"

***

We've been reported as missing, as it turns out, which only means someone wants to find us and doesn't want to have to deal with cops. But whoever put out the bulletin had enough influence to make sure our faces were on every news report in the New England Commerce Zone and a good number of them in New York, which was . . . troublesome.

"It would be much easier to make that disappear if it were an arrest warrant," Elizabeth tells us as she pours us wine that costs more than I spend on food in a month. "Bribes are easy. Making this disappear is going to be hard."

"There's contact info, right?" asks Morgan. "I assume that's a dead end?"

Elizabeth nods her head. "They covered their tracks well."

"But you have a plan."

"But I have a plan." She claps her hands--an affectation, I imagine, both to draw attention to her state-of-the-art cyberhands and to disguise that she is simply sending a command to the drone that walks in, holding aloft a sleeveless dress in black and white. "There's no shortage of high society functions in winter--all the better to stave off madness, I imagine. Stay here for a while, make some appearances. Make it look like you're here to stay. Whoever's looking for you will know you're here, but Morgan the scruffy drifter is a much easier target than Morgan the corporate heiress. If they do make their move, we'll be ready."

I can tell Morgan doesn't like this plan, but I can also tell she's going to say yes. But I'm not sure how I fit in yet. "What about me?"

"What about you? We take your measurements, get you a wardrobe. So long as it's clear you're with us, no one will dare question whether you belong." And then she smiles brightly. "It'll be fun, I promise. And you'll be out of here before you know it and back to your glamorous vagabond lifestyle or whatever it is you two are doing." Her smile takes on a slight edge. "Which M will have to tell me about sometime."

Morgan sighs. "Yeah. Soon, I promise. Not yet." A long pause. "All right. I know you're only doing this because you miss having a tag team partner at these insufferable parties, but all right. But if we're staying still for a week you're doing more than helping us find dresses."

"Of course. And Nora?"

I shrug. "If Morgan's in, I'm in."

"Excellent." She beams at me. "I promise you will not be disappointed."

Maybe we've been on the road too long, maybe Elizabeth's enthusiasm is infectious, but for now, at least, I'm starting to feel pretty good.