Juliet woke up when Jensen cut off her AC, and the sun shining out of her viewscreen “window” grew bright enough to feel uncomfortable. She yawned and stretched, annoyed at the sheen of sweat causing her sheet to cling to her body. “Jensen, why is it so damn hot in here?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Bianchi, but your rent is past due, and the Helios management system has revoked some of your privileges.”

“Dammit. Tig, er, um, Angel, send five-hundred bits to Helios for a partial payment. Will that be enough to have AC, Jensen?”

“It will suffice for now, though more punitive measures will be taken if the full balance of one thousand, three hundred and forty-one Helios-bits isn’t remitted within the next seven days.”

“Fine . . .” Juliet started to say, but then Angel spoke up through her implant.

“I’m sorry, Juliet, but I cannot do as you’ve asked. You haven’t given me access to your financial accounts.”

“Ugh,” Juliet said, sitting up and shoving her pillow up behind her back. The LED on the window screen said 8:04 AM, and the image displayed a view of Tucson from one of the upper levels of the megatower. The sun was midway up the sky, and everything was limned in a golden glow, from the windows of the other buildings nearby to the rooftops of the smaller buildings in the distance. “I know sunrise in Tucson is lovely, but you guys must be altering this image. Shit just isn’t that pretty anymore.”

“This particular image is taken from the ninety-fourth floor and was subject to various post . . .”

“Privacy mode, Jensen.”

“Activating privacy mode.”

“Angel, my codes are in my cloud vault. The passcode is rough, underscore, terrier, with a capital t, 787, ampersand, 1.”

“Noted,” Angel said, and then a second later, “I’ve sent your payment to Helios Corp. Would you like me to randomize a new passcode for you? I have doubts about the authenticity of the apartment management AI’s privacy mode.”

“Yes,” Juliet grunted, pushing herself to the side of the couch, feet on the floor. She felt groggy, almost like she had a hangover, even though she’d only drunk the one cheap beer.

“I’ve sent you an encrypted message with the new passcode.”

“Great. Any word from the . . . guy with the jobs?”

“Dr. Tsakanikas has not reached out to you.”

“Well, I’m about broke, have . . . people looking for me, and am waiting to hear from . . . him. I guess I’m laying low for now.” Juliet stood up, walked over to her kitchen counter, and opened the little fridge, rooting around for anything to eat. “Nada,” she sighed.

“Juliet, would this be a good time to perform my baseline analysis of you?”

“Seriously? What do you need to analyze? What’s the point? You want to bug me about going to the gym or back to school or something?”

“My neural and synaptic interface is far more comprehensive than the PAI units for sale on the market today. I’m able to help you learn, focus, and integrate other cybernetic and bionic enhancements more thoroughly than standard human-to-wetware interfaces usually allow. Of course, my interface is only part of it—my groundbreaking software and architecture also play a role in the process.”

“Are you going to change anything about me?”

“No. The baseline will be one hundred percent evaluative. I am not authorized to make alterations to my host without express permission. Your current cyberware is very limited, so there isn’t much I could do in any case.”

“Well, what do I have to do? Actually, hold off on that—I need coffee, at least.” Juliet rinsed her mug in the little sink and then placed it under the drink spout fed from some central location in the arcology. She touched the little menu, tabbing through soft drinks and flavored waters and settling on good, old-fashioned coffee. “Two creams, no sugar.”

The spout hissed for a couple of minutes, and then a thin stream of hot water filled her cup. Juliet drummed on the counter while she waited, and then, after a bit more hissing, an even narrower stream of concentrated coffee poured into the water, staining it a dark brown. After one more pause, some sort of milky substance turned the drink from dark brown to tan, and Juliet picked up the steaming mug.

“I don’t know what real coffee tastes like anymore,” she said, breathing in the aroma from the cup. “The last cup I had was at that restaurant Fee took me to for my birthday. I remember it being better, but, damn, this tastes just fine when you wake up feeling like shit. You know?”

“Are you speaking to me?” Angel’s voice asked.

“I guess so. Nobody else to talk to right now. Hey, speaking of that, did Fee ever get back to me? How’s Paulo’s arm?”

“You don’t have any messages from Felix, though you have seven from Fred’s Salvage.”

“Angel! Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t I see the message icon on my head’s up?”

“I’m sorry, Juliet. You asked not to be bothered by non-critical messages.”

“So, the messages aren’t like, about the you-know-who coming for me? Can you summarize them?” Juliet sat down on her couch, sipping her hot coffee.

“The overall tone of the messages is one of concern. Fred wanted you to know that a crime had been committed at the yard and that he was being shut down for an investigation. Your shift tomorrow morning has been canceled.”

“All right, Angel,” Juliet said, taking another swig of her coffee. “What do I need to do so you can complete this ‘baseline’ of yours?”

“I’ve already made many measurements. While you were sleeping, I finalized my neural connections and performed the tests that wouldn’t trouble your rest.”

“Finalized your connections? I thought you did all that when you were ‘initializing’ after I put you into my port.” Juliet set her cup down and sat back, rubbing her eyes. “Hey, is that why I feel hungover?”

“It’s possible that some of my test batteries might have taxed the vessels and micro musculature around your skull.”

“Jesus, seriously?”

“Yes, it’s possible.”

“Well? What do I need to do?” For the hundredth time, Juliet wondered how big of a mistake she’d made by porting this pirated PAI.

“I’ll need you to tax a few of your major muscle groups first. Are you familiar with the exercise called a ‘pushup?’”

“Are you shitting me? You’re going to make me exercise? You realize I work a welding rig for a living, right?”

“Please, Juliet, it’s the best way for me to get my measurements.”

“All right,” Juliet said, standing up, still wearing nothing but her underwear and tank top, and moving around her coffee table. She pushed it against the couch, giving herself a small, cleared space on the floor. “Pushups?”

“Yes.” Angel’s voice was calm, clear, and almost clinical as she spoke about her baseline, and Juliet had a hard time feeling annoyed at the PAI. She was intrigued by what it was promising, in fact, wondering what it meant when it said it could help her learn and integrate wetware and cybernetics better. She dropped and began to crank out pushups for the first time since high school.

The first pushup was a real challenge, and she almost dropped herself to her face, but she doggedly worked through it, and as her muscles woke up and her blood began to flow, she surprised herself by completing fourteen good, solid pushups. She fell to her stomach, rolled to her back, breathing heavily, and said, “I did more than I thought I would. I always did the assisted ones in gym class, you know, on my knees. I guess having a physical job helps.”

“That was a great effort, Juliet, and I believe I have an accurate measurement of your musculoskeletal capacity and responsiveness. I would like to measure your cardiovascular capabilities now if you wouldn’t mind. My research files indicate that repeatedly completing large muscle movements can tax that system nicely. Are you familiar with the exercise called a ‘burpee?’”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Ten minutes later, Juliet was sitting, coated in sweat, on the floor near her AC register, heaving for breath. The burpees had been a nightmare for her. She knew she should exercise more. Having to work long shifts and not having much extra money made it unappealing, though, and, yeah, she could look better, but she was fit enough, in her opinion. She still wore pretty much the same size clothes as she had in high school nearly six years ago. Juliet figured she must be doing something right! Still, the burpees had kicked her ass.

“Thanks to your efforts, I have an accurate assessment of your physical capabilities and potential. My integration with your neural and synaptic systems has allowed me to measure those capabilities as well. Would you like to see my report on your status?” Angel spoke up for the first time since she’d told Juliet to stop and rest.

“Uh, I guess. Is it going to be depressing?”

“There’s no need for depression, Juliet. I’m here to help you, and the only person you should compete with is yourself.”

“Oh God,” Juliet said, rolling her eyes. “Did they use a self-help book to create your personality?”

“No! My personality is a product of over nine billion factors. Not only that, but I continue to learn and change based on my experiences and my host’s preferences.”

“All right, all right. Let’s see your little report.”

“Excellent,” Angel said, and then Juliet saw a table appear in her augmented UI, and she used her retinal implants to zoom in:

Juliet Corina Bianchi

Physical, Mental, and Social Status Compilation:

Comparative Ranking Percentile (higher is better):

Net worth and assets:

Helios-bits: 212

.0023

Neural adaptiveness:

.96342 (scale of 0 - 1)

.91

Synaptic Responsiveness:

.19 (lower is better)

.31

Musculoskeletal ranking:

–

.22

Cardiovascular ranking:

–

.87

Cybernetic and Bionic augmentation:

Model name and number:

Overall rating of the augmentation (Grades are F, E, D, C, B, A, S, S+):

PAI

WBD Project Angel, Alpha 3.433

S+

Data Port

Helios Designs, Saguaro 2.1

E

Retinal Cybernetic Implant

Arclumen, Model F2

F

Auditory Cybernetic Implant

Golio Tech, DP477

F

No other augmentation detected.

–

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