Tails You Lose

by Lisa Smedman

  "Kageyama," she said in a strained voice. "Your pi stone—quickly!" Not waiting for him to unfasten the chain, she snatched it from his neck, breaking the chain, and unscrewed it as quickly as she could. Despite the compensating efforts of her move-by-wire system, her hands were trembling.

  There—the pendant was open. Alma held up the coin . . .

  Both her eyes and Kageyama's widened in surprise in the same instant. It wasn't the Fu Coin that Alma held in her fingers. It was one of the coins Kageyama had given her earlier, to cast the I Ching. Alma stared at it for a long moment, stupefied, and then realized there was only one way it could have gotten there.

  "Night Owl," she and Kageyama both whispered. Then Kageyama chuckled, as if at some secret joke.

  "I don't see anything to laugh about!" Alma exploded. "The Fu Coin could have induced an alpha state. Night Owl's greed has just condemned us to death!"

  Kageyama laid a hand on hers. Alma tried to jerk her hand away, but Kageyama held on tightly. His grip was surprisingly strong. Wired reflexes taking over, Alma raised her free hand to strike him. Before she could, he scooped up one of the two I Ching coins that remained on the table and held it up in front of her.

  "I was prepared for this eventuality," he said. "I suspected that there might be others after the Fu Coin and that Night Owl would know who they were. She didn't disappoint me. Thanks to her, one more would-be thief has been thrown off the scent."

  "What the frag are you talking about?" Alma asked heatedly. She didn't even realize that she'd slipped into street slang until she saw Kageyama's bemused glance.

  Kageyama nodded at the wall where the two-dimensional Kelvin shimmered, watching. "Night Owl's friend Miracle Worker isn't the only one who can cast illusion spells. It was also Kelvin's specialty. This is the real Fu Coin, cloaked behind an illusion. The coin that Night Owl just sold was a fake. I hope she received a good price for it."

  Alma suddenly realized where Night Owl must have gotten the information about defusing the bomb. Someone, somehow, had retrieved it from PCI's computer system and sold it to her.

  "I think Night Owl got exactly what we needed," she said with a smile. "Now pass me the coin; our time is running out."

  Only six minutes remained on the countdown—even if she entered an alpha state this instant, Alma would have only seconds to spare.

  Kageyama pressed the Fu Coin into her hand, clicking the knob of the antique stopwatch as he did so. As its magic flooded through her body, Alma sank into the most rapturous bliss she had ever known—for sixty seconds precisely.

  Then again, for forty-five seconds . . .

  Then for thirty seconds . . .

  Then fifteen . . .

  14

  Happiness

  Night Owl awakened slowly, feeling as if she had been drugged. Something was wrapped around her head and face, pinning her ears against her scalp. Her cheeks stung in several places, and the tips of her ears were burning. Her eyelids felt thick and puffy, and her mouth was dry. A strange metallic taste lingered on her tongue.

  Reaching up, she touched the wrappings around her head and realized what they were: bandages. Frag! Alma must have had the REM inducer removed. But if she had, why wasn't Alma the one who had just woken up? Had removing the REM inducer backfired on Alma, shutting her down permanently and leaving Night Owl in control of their body?

  Night Owl sat up and looked around. She lay on a narrow bed with hospital-style railings on either side, in a small room that looked like a clinic recovery room. A door in one wall opened onto a tiny bathroom; another door—one with a lock on it—looked as though it might lead out into a hallway. Soothing music drifted through the air, and sunlight slanted in through windows that had a slight gold tint.

  The view out the window was magnificent: a wide expanse of harbor with blue water that sparkled in the sunlight, colorful buildings that climbed the slopes of the North Shore, snowcapped mountains cloaked in lush green forest, and above it all, a turquoise-blue sky tufted with white clouds. To the west, the clouds were stained a bright orange and red by the setting sun. It was obviously late afternoon—hours after the time when the cranial bomb was supposed to have gone off.

  "Congratulations, Alma," Night Owl said with a chuckle. "You did it. Assuming this isn't heaven, we're still alive."

  For the first time that Night Owl could remember, she had awakened during a day when it was not raining. She stretched out a hand until the sunlight caught it and savored the warmth on her skin. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let out a contented sigh.

  Like a bubble working its way up through thick, cloying liquid, a whisper of worry found its way into Night Owl's mind. She suddenly realized that she had no reason to feel this way. Alma had undergone some sort of surgery and locked Night Owl in a room—and Night Owl had no idea why. She should feel worried, apprehensive—even fearful. Instead she felt . . . happy?

  It must be the drugs from the surgery. That had to be the answer.

  Lowering one of the railings on the bed, Night Owl swung her feet over the side. She found that she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt: whatever the chopdoc had done to her, it hadn't involved the rest of her body. She crossed to the bathroom and peered into the mirror above the sink. The heavy wrap around her face and head was a bandage, just like she'd figured. Reaching up for one end of the gauze, she slowly unwound it.

  Her ears were the first things to appear from beneath the wrapping. Night Owl was surprised to see that they now had delicate points, like an elf's.

  When the rest of her features were revealed, her eyes widened in wonder at the changes she saw. Her cheeks were wider, her chin more pointed, and her lips thicker. Even her eyes were different. They now had a full epicanthic fold, giving her a distinctly Asian appearance, and the irises were a glittering gold, instead of the familiar brown.

  Night Owl was used to seeing a different face staring back at her each night. She never left her apartment except in full Beijing Opera makeup, and she varied the design each evening, to suit her mood. But this time, the mask that stared back at her out of the mirror couldn't be wiped off. Faint red lines—the marks of a laser scalpel—showed where a surgeon had inserted collagen, shaved away cartilage, or tucked and folded skin. This mask—one of Alma's choosing, not Night Owl's—was permanent.

  Night Owl slowly shook her head, wondering what Alma was up to now. Perhaps the biggest surprise was that she still felt no fear.

  A cellphone was lying on the counter beside the sink, next to Alma's I Ching coins. The memo-alert light was blinking red. Night Owl picked up the phone, thumbed the memo function icon, and read the words that scrolled across the monitor.

  HELLO, NIGHT OWL. THANKS FOR FINDING THE CODE TO DEACTIVATE THE CRANIAL BOMB AND PASSING THE DATA TO ME THROUGH KAGEYAMA. THAT WAS WELL DONE. I'M GLAD YOU DECIDED TO TRUST ME—FOR BOTH OF OUR SAKES.

  I REALIZED, AFTER DEACTIVATING THE BOMB, THAT KNOWING THE CODE GAVE ME THE ABILITY TO HAVE THE REM INDUCER REMOVED. I DECIDED NOT TO FOR ONE SIMPLE REASON: I OWE YOU MY LIFE. IT SEEMED DISHONORABLE, SOMEHOW, TO "UNPLUG" YOU, ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU'RE REALLY JUST A PART OF ME. BESIDES, I THINK WE MAKE A PRETTY GOOD TEAM. THERE AREN'T MANY SECGUARDS OUT THERE WHO CAN PROVIDE ROUND-THE-CLOCK PROTECTION, WITH ONLY TWO FIFTEEN-MINUTE BREAKS PER 24 HOURS.

  AS A RESULT OF WHAT YOU DID, I CAN NEVER GO BACK TO MY JOB AT PACIFIC CYBERNETICS. THE POETIC JUSTICE IS THAT YOUR "CAREER" AS A SHADOWRUNNER IS ALSO OVER, UNLESS YOU WANT THE DRAGONS TO FIND US AGAIN. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE NO LONGER PRODUCTIVE. AKIRA HAS OFFERED US A JOB AS HIS BODYGUARD. HE'S EVEN OFFERED TO HELP US GET IN TOUCH WITH THE MISSING SUPERKIDS FROM BATCH ALPHA. MAYBE SOMEDAY WE CAN EVEN HOLD A "FAMILY REUNION." BUT ALL THAT LIES IN THE FUTURE.

  I'VE ACCEPTED AKIRA'S OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT, AND I SUGGEST YOU DO THE SAME. AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, THE RETAINER HE'S GIVEN US IS A MORE THAN ADEQUATE SALARY—EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONLY A SINGLE COIN. I THINK IT'S GOING TO HELP US LIVE TOGETHER IN A MORE CIVILIZED MANNER. JUDGING BY THE WAY IT STILL
ED THE TREMORS IN MY HAND, I'M GUESSING THAT IT WILL GUARANTEE THAT ONE OF US STAYS ASLEEP WHILE THE OTHER ONE IS AWAKE. AND I THINK THE FEELING OF CONTENTMENT IT GIVES ITS OWNER—US—WILL HELP US LAY TO REST THE GHOSTS FROM OUR PAST.

  CAN YOU GUESS WHICH COIN I'M TALKING ABOUT?

  Strange—Alma's message sounded like one that Night Owl herself would leave, especially with the teasing question at the end of it. It sounded as if Alma was talking about the Coin of Luck, but that wasn't possible. Night Owl had stolen it from Kageyama and traded it to Tiger Cat for the data on how to defuse the bomb . . .

  Hadn't she?

  Night Owl looked down. There were three I Ching coins on the counter in front of her, when there should have been only two. One of these coins should have been inside Kageyama's pendant. The fact that it was lying here on the counter meant that Kageyama had discovered the switch and given the Taiwanese coin he'd found inside his pendant back to Alma . . . but why?

  Suddenly, Night Owl realized the answer: Kageyama had expected her to figure out that the Fu Coin was hidden inside his pendant and had guessed that she would steal it. He'd swapped the Fu Coin for an illusion-cloaked fake, and then hidden the genuine article in plain sight. It had been one of the "Taiwanese" coins that Alma had left on the bedside table.

  Stretching out a single finger, Night Owl slowly lowered it toward the counter. She touched the coin on the left and felt only cool metal beneath her fingertips. The coin in the center was the same. But the third coin she touched sent an immediate rush of happiness through her. It felt like a combination of falling in love, receiving the one thing you'd wished for all of your life, having a dream come true . . .

  And receiving a reprieve from a death sentence.

  Night Owl jerked her finger away and looked back into the mirror. She realized now why Alma had opted for plastic surgery. Night Owl and Alma were about to start a new life together.

  Maybe.

  Night Owl picked up the Coin of Luck and cocked a thumb under it, ready to flick it into the air. Heads, she'd accept Kageyama's offer of employment. Tails, she'd slide on out of here, disappear back into the shadows, and try to find a way to get rid of Alma.

  She flipped the coin into the air and watched it spin. She caught it in her left hand, and slapped it down on her right. Trying to ignore the rush of happiness she felt as it contacted her bare skin, she got ready to peel her hand back and take a look. If it was tails . . .

  No. This wasn't any way to make a decision. Striking out on her own and ditching Kageyama would be stupid—suicidal even. She decided that whatever the coin said, heads or tails, she'd take Kageyama up on his offer.

  Even so, she couldn't resist just a peek . . .

  Heads.

  The grin on Night Owl's face was only partially the result of the magical effects of the coin. She'd made the right choice. The coin had just been for confirmation—she wouldn't be using a coin toss to make life-or-death decisions. Not anymore.

  Still smiling, she scooped up the other two coins and stuffed them, together with the Fu Coin, into her pocket.

  About the Author

  Lisa Smedman is author of the Shadowrun® novels The Lucifer Deck, Blood Sport, Psychotrope, and The Forever Drug published by Roc Books. She is also the author of the Crimson Skies™ novel Ghost Squadron, the second book in the Wings of Justice trilogy published by FASA Corporation. Lisa has also had a number of short science fiction and fantasy stories published in various magazines and anthologies, and in 1993 was a finalist in the Writers of the Future contest.

  Formerly a newspaper reporter and magazine editor, she now works as a freelance game designer and fiction writer. Lisa was one of the founders of Adventures Unlimited magazine. She has designed a number of adventures and written short fiction for Tar's Ravenloft and Dark Sun lines, and has designed gaming products for Stars Wars, Indiana Jones, Cyberpunk, Immortal, Shatterzone, and Millennium's End.

  Lisa Smedman makes her home in Vancouver, B.C., with her partner. She spends her free time gaming, hiking, and camping with a women's outdoor club, collecting stamps about the space race, riding her moped, and catering to her six cats.

  Copyright

  ROC

  Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

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  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.

  First Printing, February 2001 10 987654321

  Copyright © FASA Corporation, 2001 AH rights reserved

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