Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,24

the footage and run the analysis, but far less than the six-hour time frame. I wanted to watch it for myself, of course, and would, but I was out of time.

I adjusted the harness and took one last look around my spartan apartment. I had the distinct impression that I wouldn’t be seeing it again.

* * *

A wave of something that sounded like circular saws applied to structural steel and set to a driving bass beat assaulted my ears as I exited the elevator and entered the corridors outside of the Black Diamond. Dozens of people stood outside the open hatch leading into the club, not so much an orderly queue as an undulating wave of humanity surging against the pair of bouncers manning the door and ebbing back again. My chronometer told me I had ten minutes until the scheduled meeting with Chan. No time for lines.

I walked straight into the crowd, making no effort to slip past people. In my old coil, that would have meant trouble. But in my latest branch, the combination of the space-black vacc suit, scowling Neanderthal features, prodigious size, and the gun holstered on my hip parted the crowd before me like water before an old ocean-going ship. The bouncers, on the other hand, were unimpressed.

Both of them massed larger than me by a good twenty kilos, and one cast a look at my microwave emitter that was so contemptuous it bordered on comical. But I had no intention of trying to push my way through them. My hand dipped into one of the pouches on my suit’s harness, and I produced a pair of precious metal nuggets, each about the size of my thumbnail. Both glittered gold under the harsh interior lighting of the hab corridor.

I didn’t say anything—just stretched my hand out before them, proffering the metal slugs on my upraised palm. No matter how far the species had come, some things never changed. The nuggets disappeared in an instant and the smaller of the two jerked his head toward the darkened interior of the club. I nodded in return, suppressing the sardonic smile that wanted to twist my lips. Better not to push my luck too far.

The volume doubled as I crossed the threshold, hovering on the verge of painful. The club interior was another tight press of bodies, this time moving in syncopated rhythm to the blasting music. A few tables and booths clung to the edges of what was mostly a dance floor, and a bar took up an entire wall off to the side. No chance of finding Chan in that crowd.

Sarah, send a message to Chan. Let her know I’m here and ask her to pop up a beacon.

Of course, Langston.

A moment later, a glowing icon sprang to life in my vision, the product of Chan’s agent interfacing with Sarah and overlaying a graphic directly into my eyeline. I followed it through the undulating, gyrating swarm of people and to the fringe of the club where booths were arrayed along one wall. Chan sat in one, a bottle of beer resting on the table, cupped between her hands. Her new pretty-boy features were twisted into a dark scowl as she glared at the bottle, and she only looked up as I slid into the booth across from her. As I passed the privacy field, the thunderous music dropped to a distant buzz, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“I had to bribe the door guy to let me in,” Chan said by way of greeting.

I nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

She frowned. “You don’t get it. In my last coil, I would have been in with a smile and a wave. I hate this.” She waved a hand vaguely at her new body. “I don’t know how you deal with male coils. I’m all lumpy and hairy. And it pisses me off.”

That brought a slight smile to my face. It was hard adjusting to a new body, particularly if that body came loaded with unfamiliar plumbing and hormones. I’d only had to do it once. Some could switch genders easily enough, finding a comforting fit at multiple points on the spectrum, and it hadn’t particularly bothered me to be placed into a bio-female coil. Being placed in a body that didn’t match your preferences and expectations still beat the alternative, and there were surgeries to change the cosmetics and drugs to deal with the chemical balances, provided you had the proper insurance. It made the initial acclimation

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