By evening The Nest was packed.
False Black controlled the room from the DJ cage. He had been there since the early days, back when the saloon had more bullet holes than customers. He trusted Ms. Ladybug. He tolerated Dewdrop. He distrusted almost everybody else.
Dewdrop did not want to perform.
His face was bruised, his circuits hurt, and he had already begun calculating what a lawsuit against Hood County might be worth.
False Black solved the problem by reminding him how much solder he owed.
Two hours later, Dewdrop stormed onto the stage through a cloud of red smoke wearing a vintage suit and enough confidence to power half the county.
The crowd lost its mind.
At stage left, hidden inside a hazmat suit, MC Ian watched.
Dr. Gilden watched through him.
Rhyme Stunner, Dewdrop’s rival, stood drunk near the stage.
“Target engaged,” Ian’s system reported.
Gilden gave the command.
A thin audible laser struck Rhyme Stunner.
His ears burned.
He panicked, poured vodka over his head and turned himself into a torch.
The room exploded into chaos.
Dewdrop thought the crowd was cheering for him.
Gilden thought phase one was working perfectly.
By morning, Ian and Dewdrop stood outside the abandoned Cash for Gold warehouse.
Dewdrop handed him a key.
“Nobody cares about this stuff,” he said. “Take what you want.”
Inside were crates of gold.
Ian walked deeper into the warehouse, transmitting everything to Gilden.
Then he found the side corridor.
Marshal Orb was tied to a pole, unconscious. One hand had been shoved into an animal trap with a dead rat-like creature. Exposed wires hung from the ruined limb.
Ian stared.
For the first time since Gilden activated him, his next move did not arrive as an instruction.
He whispered, “What the hell happened to you?”