Page 58 of Neon Flux

I sat up at that. “Thiscity was good for you?”

“Maybe not good for me, but better than home. At least here I could be who I really was—didn’t have to hide anymore. I can date and go to clubs, and the only person who judges me for it is you.” He winked.

“You knowIhave no leg to start on for judging who you sleep with.”

“And yet you still do,” he said, leaning off the back of his chair, grin still wide.

“That last guy was a bum! You deserve someone who’s your equal.”

I didn’t like the look he gave me at that—like maybe I should take my own advice. I stood up and walked over to him. “What are you tinkering with, anyway?”

“Scrap Flux chips. Got them for free and wanted to see if I could refurbish them. Stop trying to get chisme out of me and earn your paycheck for once.”

Now I draped myself over the back of his chair, looking over his shoulder. He adjusted a magnifying glass so we could see the chip better. As he futzed with it, I asked softly:

“Do you ever miss home?” It wasn’t just a question for him.

He sighed. “All the time.”

“You never think about going back?”

“Nowhere to go back to. Parents said to never show my face again unless I showed up with a wife, like a good son.” He shook his head. “That’s never going to happen.”

I put a hand on each of his shoulders. “Guess you’re stuck with me then.”

He chuckled, but there was a warmth to it that made me feel a little less alone. “Not such a bad deal.” For a moment, the weight of everything I’d immersed myself in felt a little lighter.

Dev kept working on the chip in front of him, but he wasn’t going to be able to fix it. The problem was circuit-level—something only I could see. I put my hand on top of his, stopping his work. I stretched a single finger out over the chip, and the low thrum of my Flux pulsed. I found the error—a burnt-out transistor—and sent power there, just enough to rewrite the silicon and fix the chip. More precise work than what I’d done on Cy’s Vysor, but I was calmer now, not out of my mind on Vector. I reminded myself this was why I was clean. This is what I could do when I wasn’t lost in the current.

No matter how good it felt…

A single spark shot from my finger, and Dev checked the diagnostic screen he had it hooked up to.

“Damn, you are good, aren’t you?”

“Thought that’s why you hired me? It’s only because of your mods to my chip.”

At that, Dev gave a grin, happy to take all the credit.

Modding was even more prestigious than cyber engineering. The best of the best worked at places like POM, MedTek—all of big pharma—developing new hormone modifier chips, not just for the Flux-mutated but now for all sorts of illnesses and bodily enhancements. They made the corps a lot of money, and they were paid well for it.

Dev was good. He’d gone to the top university in India, and his skills spoke for themselves. But here he was, putting last season’s chips into kids in the slums for next to nothing.

“Be careful, or I’ll have you fixing scraps all day.”

“Do I get a raise?”

“Definitely not.”

We both laughed, and he kept running diagnostics on the chip. I watched for a moment, looking at this man who had so much talent, who had saved more lives than I could count—and never asked for a reward.

“Why are you here, Dev?”

Dev didn’t look up. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

“I’m serious. You could be at MedTek, making top creds, doing cutting-edge research. But you’re here, eating instant noodles with someone like me.”

“No one else will learn all the old Bollywood movie dances with me,” he said with a grin. I didn’t return it.