They sat in the chair eating their pasties and each reflecting on the conversation and their own takes from it. The hum in the air was a soothing balm to a pretty hectic morning for all of them.

  Kay stared at TAI, wondering who was this woman that he was already deeply involved with. Intimately involved with?

  Was it intimate yet?

  Even for this male android, women—whether organic or not—remained an unsolvable mystery. Quantum encryption? Nothing compared to girl math and their ability to always make us feel like we’re at fault.

  "So, TAI, food." I pointed to the dish of pastries, "date." Raising my hands to encompass all of us, "and we danced back in the hotel in a way. Are we square?"

  "I don't consider pastries and a fire fight a date Kay." she said with a straight face and business first way as she crossed her arms.

  "I don't know, if it's a first date to get to know ya, I'd say pastries and a coffee is just fine." Mai butted in eating a danish now and holding her coffee to her mouth hiding a smirk of her own.

  "There ya go" I said "Validated."

  TAI got up from her chair, which was next to Mai's instantly looking down on the petite former spy.

  "Are you trying to move in on my man?" She asked, eyes squinted and chest out.

  Mai, mid-bite, raised an eyebrow. She chewed, swallowed, took a slow sip of coffee—dragging it out just enough to be obnoxious.

  “Bold of you to assume he’s your man,” she finally said.

  TAI crossed her arms. “Bold of you to assume you could pull him.”

  Mai huffed. “I seem to have a vacancy,” she said, trying to make it playful but failing just enough to show the cracks.

  TAI sat back down one foot over the other with a classic non-detached look upon her and looked Mai up and down while saying.

  "Keep it up, and that chair will have a vacancy too."

  TAI miscalculated. Humor wasn’t her thing, and she’d plucked a string still raw. She knew it—but she didn’t know how to fix it. So, she doubled down.

  "It's good to be wanted." I said to Hugh.

  “Or, you could see it as standing between two firing squads. Residual casualties are inevitable, Kay.” Hugh said, finishing the last of his coffee.

  He exhaled, set the cup down, and glanced at the three of us before rolling his shoulders. “Children, now that we’ve got that out of our systems—hehe, systems…” He sighed at his own joke. “Let’s get to business, shall we?”

  He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “Here’s what we know. Our victim—victim zero—was a prototype model with a neural chip two generations behind. Dr. Vance determined the body was printed using a ghost printer—no serial number, no tracking, no records. Technically impossible… which seems to be happening a lot in this case.”

  He tapped a finger against the table, rhythmically, like he was running through a mental checklist. “No known associates. No one seen with her in the last year prior to the incident. Every surveillance feed she appeared on? Blurred or actively modified by the victim herself. That flaw in our surveillance has been patched, by the way.”

  Hugh sighed, shaking his head. “What we do have is movement data. She went places—alone, always alone. We’re canvassing those locations now, seeing if we can dig up any overlooked details. So far, just errand runs. Including the warehouse.”

  He shifted slightly, eyes locking onto me. “Then there’s Mateo Falieri. We know he personally purchased both lingerie and custom suits for the victim—from my shop, no less.” He lifted a brow, as if the audacity personally offended him. “At present, Falieri is our primary suspect in the smuggling side of this operation. And if we’re lucky, he’ll lead us to the real players—the ones creating these new citizens.”

  Hugh sat back, steepling his fingers. “Did I leave anything out?”

  Hugh had just finished laying out the facts when Mai, still chewing the last of her pastry, waved a hand. “Mateo’s been here for a few weeks.” She brushed some crumbs from her lap. “I got a lead on him through my broker.”

  I lifted a brow. “Your broker?The one you gave me?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. The bookstore.”

  I frowned. “You’re telling me you got an intel lead from the broker and you didn't tell me? Or is it on the chip?"

  “Not everything is on the chip. Gotta keep some collateral after all?” She smirked. “Anyway every nation has a broker. They all tend to operate out of bookstores. It’s a kind of… nod to the trade. If you know, you know. But like I said, not everything gets put into their reports. Thats why you go to the broker themselves for info.”

  Hugh, nodding his head, chuckled at that. “I do appreciate the old-world charm. The in person wink-wink chess game that it offers” He leaned back, tapping a finger against his cup. “Still, your little bookstore friend is a small fish. My people can handle it.”

  Mai shot him a sharp look. “You think so? Because my broker—who, by the way, is the broker for Japan—said something you might want to hear.”

  That got Hugh’s attention. His amusement dimmed, his posture shifting just enough to show he was listening.

  She continued. “There’s been talk of androids being smuggled in and auctioned off to the highest bidder—other nations, private collectors, even some criminal groups. Mateo Falieri? He’s not just moving them. He’s going rogue. Pocketing cash on the side, bypassing his own people for a bigger payday.”

  I let out a low whistle. “And the Italians would love that, I’m sure.”

  Hugh exhaled, shaking his head. “They’d kill him for it.”

  Mai nodded. “Which means we’re on a clock. If his own people get to him first, we lose our lead.”

  Hugh drummed his fingers on the table, considering. Then he sighed. “Alright, you win. We pay your broker a visit. But if this turns out to be some third-rate whisper trail—”

  "That won't be necessary. AG just sent us a lead. He found his pent house. " Mai said. "Kay can use a field op partner. So let’s rest up a bit, then we head out after sundown", she said nodding her head to Mai

  I raised an eyebrow. "Convenient timing."

  She smirked. "He’s a king, Kay. Kings don’t waste time with small fish. They wait until the pond’s been properly stirred for them and the entree fully cooked and served."

  I nodded once. Fair enough.

  "Na-ah. What's in it for me? As far as I'm concerned I'm retired." Mai said.

  "Besides a safe house away from those trying to kill you?" TAI said with a straight face face.

  "Yea. Besides that." Mai said with yet another muffin in her mouth.

  “So, little Ms. Muffin, what’s it gonna take to pull you out of retirement?” I asked, watching as she stuffed yet another pastry into her face. I narrowed my eyes, giving her a once-over. “Also, seriously—how many calories do you eat in a day?”

  I was also slightly annoyed—annoyed at being paired with an organic and having to sit around for half a day, waiting to get shot at.

  She ignored me. Again. "Citizenship. Tulanto's the place to be and I need a place to be."

  "That can be arranged. Understand you may need to take a test, and you will definitely need a sponsor, and take a binding Oath of Loyalty to Tulanto." TAI said al business.

  "Also" I budded in,"their is bad news for you Mai. If you want this, it’s gonna be hard. There will be tests. And not just math tests." I said sipping on my cup of Joe.

  Mai scoffed at me, arms crossed. “Wow. A math joke. I really walked right into that one, huh Kay?”

  I grinned and responded "Textbook example, doll"

  Mai glared at me a moment and looked at TAI "I take it back. I don’t need citizenship. Just send me to Japan.”

  "So I'll put you as 'undecided' then? TAI replied straight as a lace.

  "Uggh, fine."

  "Good. Let's make it official. Raise your right hand, Hugh and Kay are official witnesses, I assume Kay is your sponsor" TAI said.

  I nodded. "She grows on you."

  "Wait, right now?" Mai said, hesitation palpable. Not every day you trade citizenship like baseball cards.

  "If we are anything in Tulanto we are efficient. Do you, Mai Kobayashi—now known as Yasoba Mai—swear loyalty to Tulanto, uphold its values, and commit to the protection of its people and sovereignty—”

  "And promise not to be an asshole? We don’t like those.” I cut in

  Mai narrowed her eyes. “Is that actually part of the oath, TAI?”

  A beat of silence.

  TAI shrugged and responded. “AG says he likes it. So yes."

  "Fine. I'm tired. Cut all this BS and wrap it up. I swear."

  “Oh, and don’t forget—we’ll need your bone marrow sample. Full conversion process, y’know. You’ll make a fine android.”

  Mai choked on her pastry. “WHAT?!”

  "You didn't hear the rest of the Oath Mai." I said in full deadpan glory.

  "Stop." TAI said. Authority of rank reigning out.

  "No fun" I said with a bit of a frown.

  Mai finally crashed for a few hours, getting the rest she desperately needed after the past 24 hours of near-death experiences, betrayal, and political maneuvering.

  Meanwhile, I ran one final check on Falieri’s penthouse, pulling up surveillance angles, traffic patterns, and security details. Hugh’s people provided us with a black van to keep things discreet.

  By the time Mai was awake, dressed in dark clothes fit for fieldwork, I was already double-checking the comms line with TAI.

  We pulled up a block away from Falieri’s five-story apartment complex. He owned the top two floors, left-hand side, facing a canal. Through the large windows, I could make out white walls, a minimalistic aesthetic, and sleek furniture. The automatic shades were drawn in most rooms, but the faint glow of a screen flickered through the slats.

  On loan from Hugh's team was Rodrigo and Manuel. The former a witty, small guy with razor sharp reflexes as our driver and Manuel who was on the quiet side and was our resident sniper.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "I was told to specifically not engage in banter with you by the boss" Rodrigo had said as we were preparing. A smile plastered his face as he was packing his gear.

  "Then I suggest you start now." I said in full work mode.

  He hadn't said a word all night since.

  "Alright," I murmured, looking toward the team as she checked the small sidearm I had provided her. "I go quiet. In and out before anyone notices. Rodrigo stay with the van and come in for our evac. You two find a good observation point and be my overwatch. God willing, I'll be in and out in about 3 minutes"

  "Do robots believe in God?" Rodrigo said.

  I looked at him with a glare. Only one smart ass was allowed on this team, and now wasn't the time.

  She exhaled, adjusting her gloves. "You make it sound so simple."

  "It is."

  I stepped out of the van, the cold night air pressing in around us. The game was officially on.

  I was prepared for resistance.

  Everything about Falieri’s setup screamed paranoia. The penthouse was walled off like a vault, signal-dampening materials woven into every surface. No comms, no heat signatures, no standard surveillance.

  A place like that? It meant trouble.

  I expected motion sensors, patrol routes, or at the very least, automated security.

  Instead? Nothing.

  Just a quiet balcony, a fire escape bolted to the side of the building like an afterthought, and a locked maintenance access door.

  Finally—something good about bureaucratic building requirements. The Italians might love their paperwork, but at least fire codes made break-ins easier.

  I reached the side access panel, fingers ghosting over the embedded security lock. The system was sophisticated—complex for anyone without the right tools.

  Luckily, I was the right tool.

  I slipped my thumb reader from my pocket and peeled back the panel’s outer casing. Beneath it, a neatly arranged mess of wires.

  Standard bypass techniques wouldn’t work here. Good. I wasn't standard either anymore.

  I pressed my thumb reader to the exposed wiring and let it sync, the haptic pulse confirming a connection.

  A moment later, the lock’s internal interface appeared in my vision—a cascading web of security scripts and fail-safes.

  I scrolled through them with a flick of my thumb.

  I stepped inside, boots soft against the metal staircase leading up.

  No alarms. No guards. Just the soft hum of an empty penthouse waiting for me, which could be worse.

  I stepped inside, my footfalls soft against the hardwood. The penthouse was immaculate—almost.

  My passive scans bounced strangely. Walls dampened everything—sound, IR, waveforms. Heavy material. Purpose-built.

  “Guy really liked his privacy,” I muttered over comms.

  “Or had a reason to need it,” TAI replied.

  My gaze swept the living room. No signs of struggle, everything placed with intention. A large area rug stretched across the space, perfectly centered beneath the furniture.

  And then, a detail that shouldn’t exist. Tiny dots. Barely visible against the wood. Not a spill. Not a splatter. Precise. Controlled.

  A trail.

  I crouched, adjusting my focus. Each drop was the size of a pinhead.

  A pattern. Like someone had dipped the tips of their toes in blood and moved across the room with perfect balance.

  Not a normal walk. A dancer’s precision.

  I traced the pattern, following the steps across the floor—deliberate, deliberate, deliberate—leading straight to the bathroom.

  There, I saw one of the scariest things ever: the toothpaste was uncovered, the shaving cream canister out, ready for use, and the toilet seat up.

  In other words, a bachelor’s bathroom.

  I exhaled through my nose. Messy. Careless. Lived-in.

  The rest of the penthouse had been perfect, curated. But this? This was real.

  And 'real' meant someone had been here. Recently.

  I turned my gaze to the bathtub. Immaculate. Spotless. At first glance, it looked like no one had touched it in weeks.

  But then I saw it—a faint ring around the top edge.

  Someone had cleaned, but only their obvious mess. The kind of cleaning job meant to erase something specific—not regular upkeep.

  The waterline was still there, a ghost of whatever had been scrubbed away.

  Quick job. Rushed. Done just well enough to fool a baseline human, not someone without my eyes.

  I ran a finger along the edge, feeling the slight difference in texture.

  Not just cleaned—sanded.

  A lot of pressure went into this. Too much.

  Whoever did this wasn’t just trying to scrub something away—they were erasing evidence.

  And they knew enough to do it properly. Almost.

  I walked out the bathroom back into the living room, no grand room, staring at the dots. Obvious lead to underneath the rug. But somethign was bothering me. Something was off.

  I let my eyes sweep the space again, taking in the silence.

  "I think I'll take a look around, I feel like someone or something is here TAI." I said under my breath, casual. Just an observation.

  "Negative Kay, stay on mission, check that rug."

  Her tone was sharp. Too sharp.

  The kind she reserved for emergencies.

  The kind she reserved for telling the kids, 'GYMFAHBIBYA'. Good times.

  But weird. Why was she pressing this hard?

  Guess the stress was getting to her.

  “Roger, Roger,” I muttered, moving toward the carpet.

  The coffee table was massive, on top of said carpet, dominated the center of the room like it was trying to make a statement.

  A statement like “Don’t look under me please.”

  I crouched and grabbed the edge, shifting my weight as I pushed it aside. It was heavy, solid wood—three-people-to-move heavy at least. And expensive wood at that. Not impractical, but not exactly lived-in either. The kind of thing a man with too much money and no personality buys to impress people he never planned to have over.

  It took some effort, but I slid it across the floor, expecting the familiar resistance of wood on wood.

  Instead, it moved too smoothly.

  I looked down. No drag marks. No scuffs. The floor beneath was pristine.

  Even after I moved it, it was like it had never been touched.

  I ran my fingers over the surface, frowning. Some kind of protective layer?

  I didn’t know. Didn’t need to. Just another detail that didn’t sit right about this place.

  The rug underneath was thick, high-quality. I ran my fingers along the edge and peeled it back.

  Nothing.

  Just wood.

  I exhaled through my nose. That wasn’t right.

  The blood trail had cut past the rug’s edge and tapered off abruptly. I crouched lower to where it stopped, pressing my palm against the smooth wooden floor.

  At first glance, it was seamless. But the planks were off.

  Not by much. Less than a millimeter.

  A hairline divide that wasn’t visible unless you were looking for it and I was.

  I ran my fingers across it. No handle. No paneling. Completely smooth.

  That meant the trigger was somewhere else.

  I stood and let my eyes drift across the room’s layout. The coffee table was surrounded by lounger chairs—plush, deep-seated, the kind you sank into and never wanted to leave.

  Damn. I really needed to upgrade my setup at home.

  Between them, small end tables, positioned for convenience.

  And then I saw it.

  One of them—off the rug, against the wall—had something unusual.

  A thin, black wire ran from its base—straight into the floor.

  I walked over, crouching beside it.

  A lamp? No. No power source. No charger. No wall outlet nearby.

  This wasn’t for convenience. It was for control.

  I ran my fingers along the underside of the table.

  Click.

  A hidden panel on the under plane of the table slid open, revealing a small manual switch.

  No WiFi. No Bluetooth. No external connection to the outside world. Just good old fashioned hardwired security.

  Whoever built this wasn’t worried about hackers. They were worried about intruders. Intruders like me.

  I pressed the switch.

  The floor groaned softly beneath me as the hydraulics kicked in, the hidden door lifting without a sound.

  A stairwell descended into darkness.

  I stared down. Cold air drifted up, faintly metallic—the scent of machines, coolant, and something else.

  Blood.

  “Close the doors behind you, Kay,” TAI said, her voice even.

  I frowned. “Weirdly specific.”

  “Do it.”

  I did.

  "Ok, but my safety word is electromagnetism"

  Intelligence TAI has weird fetishes.

  The lower level was larger than I expected. Half-lab, half-garage, and all business.

  It was divided into sections—each one serving a distinct, coldly efficient purpose.

  At the far end, a row of inspection tables. Eight slots. Four on each side.

  The first three were empty. The latter four were occupied.

  Four androids. All male. All awake.

  Their eyes tracked me. Not blank, not hostile. Just… waiting.

  Controlled. Stilled. As if they had been told to wait.

  Some lay whole, untouched. Others… not so much.

  One had his torso split open, components exposed like an unfinished project. His head twitched slightly, mouth parted as if he had been mid-sentence when they stopped him.

  Another was missing everything below the waist, resting on the table as if someone had meant to come back and finish the job—but never did. His fingers tensed, then relaxed, then tensed again. A loop. A half-executed process stuck in limbo.

  At the far end, one was missing his entire face plate. Cranial AI socket exposed. His optics were still powered, tracking movement, but there was no expression left to show.

  A few of them had parts removed with careful precision. Others had sections missing like they had been ripped apart in a hurry.

  This wasn’t a repair shop.

  This was a chop shop.

  A factory for taking things apart and deciding which pieces were still useful.

  I exhaled slowly. They were awake through all of it.

  They knew.

  And they were still waiting.

  And then, there was the fifth section.

  A massacre.

  Four bodies on the ground in various posses of distress.

  One with his pants off.

  Limbs missing—not by a blade, but by force. Arm-to-arm fighting. Precise. Not panicked.

  I cataloged the damage. I’d seen this before. Too clean. Too exact.

  “We’ll send a cleanup team for the droids. And the mess. Check around for any clues to who's their suppliers.” TAI said

  “And authorities?”

  “They don’t need to know. This is our mess, Kay.”

  I scanned the bodies. Mateo Falieri.

  Dead before he could give them anything.

  That meant someone else had the real answers.

  I turned my attention to the first android on the table. Stripped down, half-dismantled.

  I found the AI unit behind him on the table. A pre-current gen prototype. Bagged. Sealed. Stored like an afterthought.

  A sticky note was attached:

  “Tell KM she needs to get more current versions. Already outdated.”

  My jaw tightened. KM.

  “TAI. You seeing this?”

  “I’m seeing everything, Kay. And—”

  “Kay. Get the hell out of there.”

  I snapped my head up.

  “Company?”

  “Worse. Dead man’s switch. I’m trying to interrupt it, but it’s not good, Kay. Get out now!”

  The room’s lights shifted. A slow red pulse.

  The only question was—how long did I have?

  I turned, scanning for the fastest way out. No visible exits. No vents, no tunnels. This place wasn’t built to let people out—it was built to keep them in.

  But I knew the layout of the building. This lab was under the penthouse, but it wasn’t a standalone space.

  The fire escape.

  Falieri’s penthouse had one, and that meant the same escape column should be running down through this floor too. They had walled it off, but the structure would still be there.

  I mapped my position in my head, lining up the space against the original building plans.

  There.

  I turned and sprinted toward the far wall, the one running parallel to the canal-facing side of the building. If my calculations were right, the fire escape stairwell was on the other side.

  I slammed my palm against the surface and ran my fingers along the edges. No seams, no doors. They had sealed it tight.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t open it myself.

  I stepped back, squared up, and drove my fist straight into the wall.

  A dull, metallic crunch. Reinforced, but not reinforced enough.

  A second hit. The surface cracked.

  A third—the wall caved inward, exposing the old fire escape stairwell behind it.

  There. The stairwell was still intact. Rust-covered, dust-filled, but it would get me out.

  I bolted down the stairs, taking three steps at a time. The red pulse of the alarm flashed against the walls as I left, casting everything in jagged, shifting shadows.

  “Kay, MOVE!” TAI’s voice was sharp in my ear.

  “No kidding,” I muttered, pushing harder.

  The stairwell was tight, reinforced metal and concrete, designed to keep people out, not let them escape.

  I could feel the vibrations in the walls. Something was happening.

  Timed detonation? Structural collapse? Gas release?

  I didn’t plan on sticking around to find out.

  I hit the last landing, shoulder-checking the exit door.

  It burst open into a side alley, the cold night air slamming into me like a wall.

  The van was already there, idling, back door open.

  Mai leaned out, waving me in. “Hurry up!”

  I dove in, Manuel sliding the door shut behind me.

  “Any Company?” I asked, shoving myself into a seat.

  “Negative.” Manuel barely looked out the back windows. “Quiet. Too quiet.”

  Rodrigo punched the gas, and the van lurched forward, tires skidding on the damp pavement before gripping.

  I glanced at the side mirror.

  No pursuit. No sirens.

  That was worse.

  A job like this should’ve had half the city breathing down our necks. Instead, nothing. Like someone had decided not to look.

  TAI saw it too.

  “Fire responders are on the way, should clear before they get here. ”

  I exhaled slowly.

  We didn’t stop. Didn’t wait to see who would come sniffing around the rubble.

  Venice’s docks were prepped.

  A private mooring near the lagoon, secured through Hugh’s contacts.

  The yacht was waiting.

  Mai was already out of the van and on board, arms crossed, watching as I walked onboard.

  “Thought you were gonna get vaporized back there,” she said as I stepped off the boat.

  “Nice to see you too, doll.”

  She smirked but didn’t move.

  The engines were already humming, and we were ready to go.

  Rodrigo and Manuel didn’t waste time. They grabbed their gear and drove off without a word.

  Within minutes, we were out of the lagoon, Venice disappearing behind us.

  The mission wasn’t over. But for now, we were gonna be ghosts.

  That thought had barely cleared my head when my comm pinged.

  I glanced at it, debating whether to ignore it.

  Vinny.

  I sighed and answered. “Yeah, Vinny, I’m alive.”

  “Bueno, bueno!” he exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath. “That’s good news. Bad news is… Kay, what the hell did you do? I got suits crawling all over the Questura talking about a data breach. A big one.”

  I smirked. Of course.

  “You know me, Vinny. Just sightseeing.”

  “Sightseeing?!” he hissed. “Madonna, Kay! These people aren’t tourists, they’re the kind that don’t blink and don’t leave until they have answers!”

  “Sounds like a you problem.”

  “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  He muttered something in Italian that I’m pretty sure wasn’t a compliment.

  “Listen, you sure you’re safe?”

  I looked around the yacht. Mai watching me from the deck, arms crossed. TAI monitoring from my feed. The dark waters stretching out ahead.

  “Vinny,” I said, stretching back in my seat, “I’m off-island. I’m good.”

  He exhaled again. “Fine. But you owe me a drink next time you’re in Venice, capito?”

  “We’ll see.”

  I cut the call before he could argue.

  Mai raised an eyebrow. “Who was that?”

  I flicked my comm off. “A reminder that Venice gets really antsy when you borrow their secrets.”

  She smirked. “And here I thought we were just sightseeing.”

  I grinned. “See? Now you get it.”

  The yacht cut through the waves. Tulanto was waiting.