A silent alarm wakes me up, an electric signal from my eye applied directly to my cochlear nerve.

  It's far too early, but a quick shot of adrenaline from a canister in my torso fixes that. I'm instantly alert.

  My bed is cold and empty. Vince must have spent the night in Cassie’s room. I would bring him breakfast, but I'm certain Cassie is still asleep. I can't hear her yelling or trying to fight someone yet.

  My eye tells me I only have half an hour before training, which means I don't have time to wait for her to wake up.

  I try to roll to the side of the bed, only for a pain to shoot through my core. Huh, I thought that was more healed. I'm more careful getting out of bed the second time.

  I glance at my wound for just a moment and begin my morning routine, letting my visual co-processors do their work. It doesn't look infected or any more swollen than normal, and if anyone could tell, it'd certainly be me. I'll check with the doctors later, but it's not an immediate concern, as much as I wish it was.

  It takes me a few minutes to throw together an outfit and do my makeup. It's ironic just how much effort I have to put into looking like I don't care about my looks.

  I slip a knife and revolver into each boot, another of each into my waistband, and a knife up each sleeve. Just because I'm not expecting action, doesn't mean I'm not going to be ready for it. Especially since I'm training Brayden today. That kid’s going to try to be the end of me.

  Once I’m confident in my appearance I head downstairs. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but the lunchroom doors are already wide open. John already has a plate waiting for me.

  Spaghetti again. The noodles are dry and sticky, and somehow the sauce has crunchy bits in it. Hopefully Vince can find something else, or this is going to ruin his day.

  I take my time eating and head to the range. Inside is a single 18 year old kid trying to give me bedroom eyes. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. Unfortunately he’s not late. His last ten mile run made sure it wouldn’t happen again.

  “Let's get this over with. Stance.”

  “Wouldn’t-”

  “Cool, start running.” I have no desire to listen to whatever half baked pickup line he’s thought of. His watch beeps at my command. Five miles, and a shock if he slows down. Glad he wants to make today easy.

  “But-”

  “Make it ten for talking twice. Go.” The watch beeps again with its updated goal.

  He winces as a small warning shock shoots through his arm. He decides, I’m sure all on his own, to start running after that. Funny how that works.

  Well, I just earned myself two hours of quiet.

  “Finally.” The door at the back of the range opens and Jade steps though. I didn’t realize she was here, but I thankfully don’t have to worry about accidentally letting my surprise show. “Fucker got here half an hour ago.”

  “Really? All that effort, just to throw it away.” I grab a few air guns off a table along the back wall and begin to hook them up in my lane.

  “What is Silver even going to do with him? Any group that gets him will be in more danger than without him.” Jade begins to hook up guns as well in the lane next to mine.

  “I don’t think he’d be that bad as long as there are no girls for him to drool over.” I finish my setup. Single action revolver, double action pistol, SMG, bolt action rifle, and an assault rifle laid out next to each other. One extra fake magazine sits beside each of them.

  “Even still, he’s more likely to shoot a friend than a target. His trigger discipline is non-existent.” Jade finishes her setup, mimicking mine exactly. “Ready?”

  “Draw.” The two of us scoop up the revolver at the same time and begin to unload into moving targets. My eye draws a line from the gun to exactly where each bullet is going to land. Every single shot hits dead center for both of us. “Maybe Silver will send him out alone.”

  I both reload, and then promptly unload the revolver into the target much faster than Jade. I’m done nearly half a second before she is, and move on to the double action pistol.

  “And risk angering daddy when his precious boy gets killed?” Jade asks in a mocking voice. She finishes with her revolver and moves on, already gaining time on me.

  “Pretty sure that’s what we’re getting paid for anyway.” I unload the last pistol round a split second before Jade. That’s fine, she’s always been faster with semi auto guns.

  “Then why bother training him?” We both move onto the submachine gun at the same time. “This can’t be cheaper than an assassination.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Even this asshat deserves a chance I suppose.” I’m over a second behind by the time we switch to the bolt action rifle, and well over three ahead by the time we finish.

  “I guess so. Long as they send him to Denver I’m happy.” Jade is lightning quick with her assault rifle. I’m still ahead when we reload, but she’s quickly closing in on me. We both fire our last shot nearly simultaneously. “Who won?” Jade asks.

  I rewind time on my eye, closely watching frame by frame for the moment the screen displays the bullet's impact. It displays on the same frame for both of us.

  “Tie, down to the millisecond.”

  Jade doesn’t even bother asking if we want to go again, and is already setting her lane back up again. At least she saves me the breath from saying yes.

  We play for as long as we can, trading wins back and forth. Eventually the sun rises and the range fills with people getting some practice in. A small crowd forms behind us, but Jade still has a job to do. She’s forced to leave before too long, to the disappointment of the spectators.

  I continue to practice while waiting for Brayden to return. If I give up my lane someone else would claim it. Although that would mean I don’t have to train him today.

  Unfortunately he returns only a few hours later. He reeks of sweat, but at least he’s not daring to say anything.

  “Stance.” I shove a rifle into his hands.

  His training goes as well as expected. He’s still the worst shot I’ve ever seen, but at least he’s better than when he started. If I had a few years I might even be able to make him competent. For now though, my goal is just to make sure he doesn’t shoot himself or the people around him.

  “We’re done for today.” I dismiss him after a few hours. At least I only need to teach him to shoot instead of tactics. I can’t imagine how miserable that must be.

  And finally, the rest of the day is mine. I grab food for two and head upstairs to Cassie’s room. It’s bean salad, which she’s going to hate, but oh well. I knock on her door with my shoe and open it with my elbow.

  Cassie looks up from her hand and gives me a look. Excitement, fear, and most of all, shame sits on her face along with a dozen other trace emotions. There’s only one thing that mix could mean.

  “Oh no, I’m far too sober to talk about romance.” I place Cassie’s food on her lap and pretend to try to run away.

  “Ivy, this is serious!” She whispers.

  Why would she be whispering? Who is she afraid of overhearing? Oh. I see. Well at least Vince lost yet another bet.

  “Alright,” I give a large sigh and sit in the chair next to Cassie. “Tell me how Blue stole your heart.”

  The look on her face confirms my guess.

  “This isn’t funny!”

  It’s actually very funny, but I can’t tell her that.

  “I know.” I stay quiet and wait for her to start. If I try to force her to talk there's no way she ever will.

  “So, she came in to help with my arm, alright? All my muscles and nerves were a fucking disaster. My bicep extended my middle finger. She fixed that.” She moves her hand into a couple of signs to demonstrate, although I can tell her fingers aren’t quite ending up in the position she expects.

  I wait for her to continue, keeping my face looking supportive and non judgemental.

  “To get my touch nerves working, she had to, uh.” It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her this embarrassed. “She had to… touch my hand.” She can’t even look at me while she speaks.

  “Is that it?” I thought it would be something big, like a deep conversation or at least another hug or something.

  “Don’t laugh! She took my hand in hers and traced her finger all across it.” As embarrassed as she is, I can see hints of regret and longing on her face. “She was so gentle, and careful, and warm.” I’ve certainly never seen her face so red. “Ivy, I need you to fix me.” She’s fighting to prevent tears from welling up in her eyes.

  “Sorry, but I think we both know that’s not how things work.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Life would be way easier if it did though. I’ve had some unwanted crushes before.”

  “Really?” Cassie asks, desperate to get attention away from her red face. “Like who?”

  “Well, Vince for one.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Did I really never tell you that story?” I can see the answer in her face. “Oh yeah, I hated Silver’s golden boy. Everyone wanted to get into his pants, and I was the only one to see how fake he was. I saw every forced compliment, every insincere offer, the barely contained rage behind every word.”

  “What changed?” Cassie asks.

  I give a shrug in response.

  “He asked me out. Figured I’d get a meal out of it and be able to call out his bullshit. He explained his history, and I think you know the rest.”

  “Ok,” she says slowly. “What’s your point? That I should just do it? Because that’s not fucking happening.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. My point is that crushes happen regardless of the person, and don’t go away easily. What you should do is get to know her better. Either you’ll learn more and kill the crush, or you’ll learn more and become more accepting of it. Staying how you are now is only going to hurt.”

  I can see Cassie wrestling with what I’ve said. Near microscopic twitches in her face betray the conflict in her mind.

  “Can’t you just fix it?” She asks again, already knowing the answer.

  “Cassie, if I could fix all romance problems, I wouldn't be a scrapper. I’d be making bank as a therapist on the top floors.”

  “And what if it gets worse? What if I want to, only for her not to. Why would an AI even date a human?”

  That doesn’t sound like a question someone who has no intention of dating an AI would ask.

  “Then you get rejected, and we drink to forget. You’ll be over her by the next morning. Alright?”

  “I guess. There’s one more problem though.”

  I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to continue.

  “The bird, Corax. He fucking knows.”

  Ooh, that makes things interesting.

  “I can solve that problem, don’t worry.” He seems reasonable, I’m sure a quick conversation will fix it. “Any other problems?” Even though I can already see the answer on her face, it’s worth asking.

  “Yeah. I’m too sober.”

  “I can fix that too!”

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