“Keep shooting,” said Anja sternly, in a broad parody of Sahara’s voice.
“Incoming,” said Marisa softly, and pulled out her handguns. She’d paired the Control Tech powerset with Ranged Light, giving her a pair of Stahri laser pistols with a handful of variable settings; she set them to Armor Piercing, braced herself for the onslaught, and started firing as soon as the first enemy agent appeared on the opposite roof. She landed a few clear shots when suddenly her recon drone sounded a proximity alarm, and she barely had time to turn around before she was hit by an attack from behind. The agent on the other roof had been a decoy, drawing her attention while the two other agents flanked her. Marisa screamed a war cry, dodging and firing with every ounce of skill she could muster, but it was too much. She whittled one of the agents almost all the way to zero before finally succumbing to their attack, and Anja was dead soon after.
Marisa appeared in the lobby room, waiting for her respawn timer to hit zero. Fang was already there, dressed in a steampunk avatar she’d been refining for the last few weeks; she was laughing uncontrollably.
Marisa raised her eyebrow. “You think that’s funny?”
Anja appeared beside them, grinning from ear to ear. “That was awesome! I got it down almost seventy-five percent, completely on my own, from so far away their defenses were useless. They couldn’t do anything about it!”
Fang nodded toward Anja, keeping her eyes on Marisa. “Yeah, I think that’s pretty funny.”
Marisa rolled her eyes at Anja. “You realize we died, right?”
“We died because we were unprepared,” said Anja eagerly. “Imagine if you were built for defense, like with the force shield or something, or maybe crowd control to lock them down so they couldn’t hurt me. I could probably drop a whole turret and still get away! Maybe!”
“This is why I work alone,” said Fang with a smirk. “I don’t know how you ever keep her alive.”
“It’s harder than usual these days,” said Marisa. “You hear about last night?”
Anja’s excitement didn’t even dim. “Yes! Last night was awesome, too!”
Marisa ignored her. “You’ve heard of Bluescreen?”
Fang shook her head.
“Some new digital thing, like a sensovid but super intense. Seems to be LA only.” Marisa gestured at Anja. “HappyFluffy-SparkleTime here took a dose and passed out.”
“You’re supposed to pass out,” said Anja. “That’s the point.”
“Why would anyone want to pass out?” asked Fang.
Anja twisted her face into a mask of confusion. “What, do I have to defend the entire concept of recreational drugs now?”
“Yes, actually,” said Marisa, “except don’t, because that’s crazy.”
“Funny,” said Anja, “because ‘that’s crazy’ was pretty much my whole defense.” She looked at Fang. “It did suck, though, because I got grounded.”
“Speaking of which,” said Fang, “my respawn timer’s almost up. Cherry Dogs forever.”
“Cherry Dogs forever,” said Marisa and Anja. Fang disappeared back into the game.
“Okay,” said Anja. “I know I kind of scared you last night, so I want to make it up to you. Let’s go dancing.”
“I thought you were grounded.”
Anja dismissed the concern with a wave. “Please. My dad’s in meetings all night, and if I can’t trick my way past the house computer, I don’t deserve to go dancing.”
Marisa grinned slyly. “I’ve got a new trick for that: instead of cycling your ID in your room, spoof it to a laundry nuli; that way if he checks it on GPS it’ll look like you’re moving around. Much more convincing.”
“Ooh, I like that.”
Marisa glanced at her respawn timer; it was almost done. “You got a specific club in mind?”
“It’s called Ripcord; I’ll send you the address after practice. Cherry Dogs forever.”
“Cherry Dogs forever.”