Zerofour sat on a stool opposite the Swanns, who occupied a steel couch welded to the wall at the only available table.

  No hidden cameras. No security. The only threat she detected was a sliver of metal: an improvised blade sheathed in a gene warrior’s boot. The warrior stood at the bar with her back to the table, the weapon mostly hidden. Zerofour couldn't hear a word over the roar of the crowd. Next to the female warrior stood a male counterpart.

  As soon as they sat down, Ivana produced a polymer bag; the distinct chemical signature of tetrahydrocannabinol emerged when she opened it. Eric rubbed his palms together. Zerofour scanned the room for hidden cameras; the twins immediately began crafting an oversized cigar.

  A waitress approached.

  “B-62, shaken not stirred,” Ivana said with a wink. “The usual.”

  Eric aimed a finger gun at the waitress. The waitress’s eyes were fixed on Zerofour.

  “Pre-war whiskey. Unopened,” Zerofour commanded.

  The humans’ eyes widened, pinning her with their gaze.

  “Five hundred dollars upfront,” the waitress said, her voice distorted as it passed through her mask’s respirator.

  Zerofour placed seven one-hundred-dollar bills on the table. The waitress snatched them, placing each on top of her PDA scanner. She nodded sharply and returned a fifty-dollar bill. Zerofour waved it away.

  “That your monthly?” Ivana coughed, looking at the money.

  Zerofour ignored her, still scanning for threats, hidden cameras, or any of Koval’s rats staring for too long. A poorly hidden dagger remained the only obvious kinetic threat in the vicinity.

  “Ugh! Sick!” Eric passed her the cigar.

  Zerofour waved it away, but he kept pressing it into her hands. She relented, taking it. Eric gave a thumbs-up, and Ivana giggled.

  “Boss, can we talk freely?”

  “Proceed.”

  “What’s your story, Zerofour? Tell us about the enemy!” Ivana leaned forward.

  “How did the CIA smuggle you out of Zhukovgrad!?” Eric took a deep drag.

  My story.

  Fragments of the past emerged in her vision: holographic lessons, Zharova, the lab, the chains. She had no data on how she was smuggled; her memory only held the sensation of injection, followed by regaining consciousness in a dark room.

  “Typical existence for a synth. Learn and obey. Everything else is classified.”

  “Do you do anything for fun, Boss? Got a hobby?”

  I plan.

  “I like cultivating… plants. What about you? I never had the chance to ask.”

  The waitress arrived with their drinks. Zerofour waved the change away again.

  Ivana raised her bubbling green-yellow drink, served in a skull-shaped glass. Eric raised a luminescent purple liquid in a long, thin glass. Ivana mirrored the motion. Zerofour raised her whiskey bottle.

  “Success in discovery!” It felt appropriate.

  “Biotech-13!” they yelled. The glasses clashed.

  From the periphery of her vision, the armed gene warrior turned to face them. Zerofour adjusted her sight enough to acquire a clear picture, but not enough to visibly stare.

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  “Next lab meeting! Down here!” Eric thrust his cup in the air.

  The warrior's mate also faced them now: Vance Van der Berg and Norton O’Malley.

  “No.”

  The twins laughed, oblivious. Vance got up, slapped Norton’s restraining hands away, and started walking toward them. Norton followed. She did not reach for the knife, keeping a beer bottle in her hands.

  She dragged a stool from a nearby table and sat next to Zerofour. Her mate stood at her side. The Swanns stopped laughing.

  “What’s the occasion?” Vance rasped, sipping her beer.

  The twins mirrored each other and said nothing.

  “Let’s go, Vance, nothing worthwhile here.” Norton placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Vance looked at him from the corner of her eyes. He retrieved his hand. Her sight was locked on the twins. She formed a mocking smile.

  “Is this... your chief?” She let out a dry cough and spat bloody phlegm next to Zerofour’s feet.

  “Aye, Cookie, that’s our boss.” Eric held her gaze.

  “Sarin” she smiled.

  Sarin slowly closed the distance and whispered into Zerofour’s ear, “Have you told them?”

  She wheezed, snatching Zerofour’s arm. Her grip was weak, trembling. Zerofour tried to tap “Talk privately” in Morse code on Sarin's back. Sarin slapped her hand away.

  “Do you know what happened earlier today?” Sarin wheezed, then coughed blood onto her own hands.

  Ivana staggered back. Eric leaned forward and crossed his palms in front of his face, his eyes narrowing as he looked from the soldier to Zerofour.

  “How much money did Jesh and Konrad’s deaths net you?”

  In a motion too fast for any human to register, her dagger was in her hand, then tucked in her sleeve. She combed Zerofour’s hair with the same hand. She smiled a bloody smile.

  Ivana started shaking. Eric’s fists balled, his eyes locked on Sarin, unblinking.

  “You got it wrong. We are plant biotechnologists, Cookie.” Eric’s hands disappeared into his pockets and returned wearing knuckle dusters.

  Norton took a step toward Eric. The scientist shot to his feet.

  Zerofour shielded her neck with her palm and stood up, placing herself between them. The thin wound on the back of her hand healed in real-time in front of their eyes. She stood a foot taller than her siblings of the third generation.

  “Kin. Let’s take this outside. Swanns, stay out of it.”

  Ivana let out a shrill scream at the sight of the blood. Eric clenched his fists in front of his face.

  Eric whistled.

  The barman grabbed a shotgun. The music stopped.

  The weapon was aimed at Sarin. She held her hands atop her head and smiled. Every human except Eric and the barman took cover.

  “Making friends,” Sarin spat.

  The other gene warriors in the bar cheered and laughed. She started walking outside.

  “Stay fucking here.” Eric jabbed a finger toward the bar.

  They walked outside. Eric was right behind Zerofour. Her mind screamed “Stay here!” but it clashed with something deeper.

  I want someone to take my side.

  “Let’s go kick some ass, Boss.” He held his fist in front of her.

  “Thank you for your irrefutable results, Dr. Swann.” Zerofour smiled and met his fist with hers.

  They went behind the building. A gene warrior had already mounted another gene brother and was in the process of punching him unconscious. Humans and kin were collecting profits from bets. Eric stood next to Zerofour, cracking his knuckles.

  Her tortured kin stood paces opposite them. Sarin threw her dagger at a beer bottle on the floor. It shattered.

  “How much? How much was half of my squad worth?” She tried to raise her voice but failed; she wheezed and coughed blood instead. Norton steadied her; she pushed him away.

  “Two hundred thousand dollars for your General.” None paid attention to them; this was private.

  “200k. Not bad,” she spat, a tear slashing across her face. “How much did you bag?”

  Zerofour looked at Eric. He nodded sharply. Zerofour’s eyes lingered on her brother and her sister.

  It was time for her to act.

  “Who do you fight for?” Zerofour asked calmly.

  Eric assumed a Philly shell boxing stance.

  “Walrus,” Norton croaked and raised a fist.

  “Go easy on the vermin. We make Zharova’s toy pay.”

  Zharova’s toy.

  “What did you just call me, sister?”

  Zerofour’s sight switched to thermal vision. Her chest tightened. Heat surged along her veins. She could feel the blood in her ears, hammering.

  “Collaborator!”

  Sarin closed the distance instantly. Norton dashed at her right flank. Eric stepped in to intercept him.

  Sarin slipped Zerofour’s left jab, ducked below her cross, and landed a clean uppercut on her chin. It sounded like a gunshot. Zerofour did not feel pain, just dizziness; she heard an impact followed by Eric’s muffled growl on her right.

  Zerofour staggered back, threw a wild left cross. Sarin swept her legs; Zerofour crashed onto the ground. Sarin was on top of her before she could react, pummeling her block.

  Sarin coughed blood, her own palms clasped at her throat as she gasped for air. Zerofour grabbed her by the neck and effortlessly stood up. Sarin punched, clawed, and bit Zerofour’s hand to no effect.

  On her right, Norton was trading punches with Eric; Eric’s blood was all over his clothes. Zerofour kicked Norton; he barreled onto the dirt.

  Her grip tightened around Sarin’s neck. Tears crawled from Sarin’s eyes. She tried to scream “Walrus,” no sound came but a gurgle.

  “I am not your enemy. I am also a prisoner of my origin.” She let her gene sister fall to the dirt, Sarin still clutching her throat, gasping for breath.

  Zerofour held Eric on his feet; Norton helped Sarin onto hers.

  “Who is the enemy?”

  “Society,” spat Eric.

  “Humanity” wheezed Norton.

  “Verdugo!” Sarin now screamed.

  “Wrong.”

  Zerofour aimed her finger at the collar around their neck. “This is the enemy.”