Hard Reboot - Django Wexler Page 0,2

you think of the other? Flash, yeah?”

Kas peered down into the arena again, bemused. In truth, mecha were not her area of expertise, but the DreadCarl was an Eighth-Empire mainstay, manufactured by the million. Its basic shape—ten meters tall, wide enough that it looked squat, with powerful arms and a crested “helmet”—was instantly recognizable. The other mecha, the one that was to be its opponent, looked like a hodgepodge, with one arm longer than the other and one leg painted a bright green that didn’t match. She raised her eyebrows.

“It looks like scrap,” she said.

“It ’ent scrap,” Zhi said. “You should see it move. Like lightning.” She gave her gap-toothed smile again. “Quick-an’-smart beats big-an’-dumb every time, yeah?”

“If you say so.”

“Bet on it?” The words came out a little too fast. “Ten thousand ’terci.”

Kas blinked. Between the alcohol and Zhi’s accent, she felt a few seconds behind the conversation. “Ten thousand sesterce?”

“Done!” Zhi snapped, then looked overhead. “Register that!”

“Registered,” said an artificial voice. A drone the size of Kas’s fist hummed down to hover alongside them. “Ten thousand sesterce on the outcome of the next contest, between Scholar Zychtykas Three and Pilot Zhi Zero. House fee will be ten percent.”

“Wait just a fucking minute,” Kas hissed. Her head was swimming. “I didn’t—”

“’Bout time to get started,” Zhi said. “Wish me luck, yeah?” She cocked her head. “Or, maybe not?”

Before Kas could get another word out, she was gone.

* * *

Ten thousand ’terci!

The number marched round and round through Zhi’s head, with all its wonderful round zeroes. She ducked out of the off-worlder’s box through one of the kitchen entrances, ignoring the alarmed shout of a waiter who dropped a tray of something green as they nearly collided. Zhi snagged one of the little morsels out of the air and popped it in her mouth as she rounded the corner into a storeroom. Fresh fruit popped between her teeth, sweet as soda, tangy like orange gummies. It was almost worth breaking in here just for the food, and she wished she had time to stay and get proper drunk on the fancy alco.

No one had raised an eyebrow at a scav snatching drinks. One man had even complimented her on her fashion sense!

Off-worlders are dumb as ’crete, ’ent they? Always said it.

In the back of the storeroom was a half-size door, leading to a vertical tunnel for the use of porter bots, long abandoned. Zhi flipped it up, slid through, and closed it again. Her little override was still stuck against the lock, and she yanked it free, which should hopefully keep anyone from following. Then it was just a matter of shimmying down the vertical shaft, which she was just about the right size to do, back jammed against one side and knees and palms against the other.

Ten thousand ’terci!

It wouldn’t be quite that, of course. The House would take its cut, and she’d tapped her credit to get Speedy up and running. Even after paying all that off, though, there would be a healthy chunk left. Enough to spend a few years without fighting, if she wanted. Or enough to roll into her real project, her chance to get away from the Drome forever.

All she had to do now was win.

Easy as sludge. Her heart was already pounding, and she forced herself to concentrate on descending the shaft. One thing at a time, yeah?

She felt a pang of conscience for Kas, the off-worlder, but only a small one. She’d seemed nice enough, and she’d looked almost as out of place as Zhi at the party, all short-an’-curvy among the other tall, spindly tourists. And she knew something about bots. Most off-worlders wouldn’t know a DreadCarl from a forklift. Anyone who knew something about bots, in Zhi’s opinion, couldn’t be too bad of a person.

Still. Kas could afford it. Off-worlders are rich-an’-comfy, ’ent they? Worse came to worst she’d have to sell off one of those fancy robes they all wore, that were barely solid enough to hide all your bits. Not that I mind, yeah? Kas had bits worth ogling, under other circumstances.

One thing at a time. Zhi glanced down, pulled in her legs, and dropped the rest of the way, hitting the bottom of the shaft in a crouch. First win the slagging match, yeah?

From here she was in her element, among the maze of corridors and tunnels that ran under the Drome. Zhi headed back to the arena floor at an easy run, crossing from service passage