Hard Reboot - Django Wexler Page 0,3

to drainpipe to elevator shaft, through doorways and up rusty ladders installed by generations of scavs. In no time she popped out onto the main steps leading up to the floor of the Drome, where a small crowd of her own people had gathered. Most were just assorted scavs come to ogle the bots, kept back by a couple of House reps in dark, mirror-finished armor. Zhi grinned at them, and they didn’t stop her as she strolled past, out onto the floor.

Speedy was waiting for her, his legs pulled up in front of him, his mismatched arms folded across his knees. Kas was right, he did look like scrap, but the off-worlder couldn’t see the hours Zhi and Solomon had put into the warbot. Speedy might be ugly, but his servos were fast, and his reflexes were tuned to Zhi’s. Quick-an’-smart beats big-an’-dumb, yeah?

Speaking of big-an’-dumb. Custis was waiting for her. The other pilot was huge for a zero, towering over Zhi, with a thickly muscled frame he hadn’t gotten drinking soda and eating sludge. He’d been a scav once, but he’d worked for the House for at least a decade.

“Hey, Zhi,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” Zhi said, trying for nonchalance. “’Ent you got checks to be running?”

“Techs’ll do ’em,” Custis said with a broad grin. He’d lost most of his teeth as a scav, and had since had them replaced with polished chrome. His smile gleamed. “Wanted to have a word, yeah?”

“So have it,” Zhi said. “We ’ent all got other people doing our work for us.”

“You could, though,” Custis said. “Nass would take you for the House in a hot second.”

“I slagging bet he would,” Zhi said. “’Cause he knows I’m ten times better than you, yeah?”

Custis’s cheek twitched, but he maintained his smile. “Everyone knows you’re on the edge. No more credit. How many times have you patched this piece of junk back together?” He slammed a hand against Speedy’s leg, dislodged a patch of rust, and laughed. “After this you won’t have a choice.”

“After I tear your botbot to pieces, maybe Nass can beg me to take your job.”

“Zhi—” Custis’s lips curled back further. “You’re going to be working for the House, one way or the other. You need to decide how hard you want that to be, yeah?”

“That all you got to say?”

“For now.” He rapped Speedy’s leg with his knuckles. “We’ll see who’s smiling after.”

“Slag off, then.”

Custis sauntered away, deliberately taking his time. Zhi made an obscene gesture after him and turned back to Speedy. Solomon had emerged from between the botbot’s legs, blinking owlishly behind too-large spectacles. The mechanic was a year or two younger than Zhi, with the slightly wasted frame of most scavs. He wore a stained coverall too large for his meager body, with extra fabric tied off at the wrists and ankles.

“He didn’t touch anything, did he?” Solomon said, glaring after Custis. “Did you see if he touched anything?”

“He just banged on the armor a little,” Zhi said. “Custis ’ent got the brains for sabotage, yeah? Anyway, listen. I got the bet!”

“You got it?” Solomon blinked again.

“Signed-an’-sealed. One of the idiot off-worlders put ten thousand on us.”

“House cut is ten percent,” Solomon muttered to himself, “we owe Meri the Jaxican another fifteen hundred, Jast will take three hundred, maybe—”

“It’s enough,” Zhi said. “More than enough. This time next week we could have everything we need, yeah?”

“There’s still a lot of work to do,” Solomon said. He pushed his spectacles up his nose, where they immediately slid back down. “If Meri even has the parts.”

“The point is,” Zhi said, “I was right, yeah? Worth the risk.”

“If you win.”

“Speedy can run rings around some slagging DreadCarl. With all the tweaks you made—”

“I’m still worried about the joints.” Solomon frowned. “At full speed we’ll be pushing them past their ratings.”

“Speedy won’t let me down.” Zhi rapped the patchwork bot affectionately. “You got him all tuned?”

“More or less.” Solomon straightened up, tugging his fingers through his ragged mop of curly hair. “Please be careful, Zhi.”

“Always am, yeah?” Zhi wrapped the embarrassed mechanic in a brief hug. “Come back safe-an’-sound, like always. You worry too much.”

“No such thing,” Solomon said as she pulled away.

He gave a weak wave as Zhi ran around the back of the warbot, scrambled up the ladder there, and slid over Speedy’s shoulder and down into the waiting cockpit in his chest cavity. It was cramped, barely big enough for her to spread her arms, with a gimbaled seat facing