Cyber Dreams 4.15 - A Big Iron

Something of an interlude chapter. Enjoy!

PS - I'll be making some revisions to the last couple of chapters to change the fact that Juliet and Nick aren't wearing helmets in his interceptor. Some people have pointed out, rightly, that it would be a silly risk to take when there's a good chance your hull could be breached.

Thanks!

-Plum

Juliet sat in the crowded diner, sipping an actual decent cup of coffee and watching the people walking outside in the light Callisto drizzle. One thing she liked about Callisto, the city, not necessarily the moon, was that it had been designed to cater to pedestrian traffic, like many of the original colony domes. It wasn’t that she had anything against cars; in fact, she loved them, but she also liked how busy and alive the streets seemed when everyone was walking to and fro.

Callisto’s central dome, she’d been told, was similar in climate to Seattle in the spring. During the day cycle, it was warm, on the verge of being chilly, and at night, it was perfect weather for sipping hot drinks or soup or cuddling up under a blanket. She liked it, but she supposed part of that was because she’d grown up in the desert, and it was novel. The construction of the buildings lining the streets was similar to what she’d seen in Luna City, but something about them seemed more real, for lack of a better word. They were less uniform, less fairytale, and more lived-in. With the frequent drizzling rains, things seemed fresher, and though they wore more layers, the people seemed friendlier. Juliet liked Callisto.

It was the start of her third week working with Nick, and she had a few days off; Nick was entertaining a “visiting friend” and had declined a couple of jobs to give himself time with his guest in the agridome where he had his cabin. Juliet didn’t mind; they’d seen a lot of action over the last week, and she could use some time alone to decompress, especially since he’d promised to let her take the pilot’s stick on their next outing. She was excited but also horribly nervous. She’d helped Nick to take out nearly a dozen “pirates” and seen just how quick and brutal encounters with skilled pilots could be.

Nick took the risks in stride, probably because he had hundreds of dogfights under his belt, and he was, as he liked to say, one of the “top-ten rated pilots in the Jovian System.” Juliet admired his skill but had come to suspect that the Lady Hawk was far from a standard interceptor. Nick made a killing on each outing where he shot down pirates—not just from the contract payment for protection but by collecting bounties. The pirates always gave off fake ID pings, but every ship was different, not just the make and model, but unique markings from paint to battle scars to aftermarket mods. His PAI took videos of his encounters, and if he was able to make a positive ID based on the images of the ships, he often collected hefty bounties.

With all that income in mind, Juliet knew Nick had to be doing something with his money, and she’d seen how he babied the Lady.Her first clue about the ship’s mods had come when she’d seen the maneuvering jet replaced. Later, when reflecting on her day, Angel had pointed out that the manufacturer of the part wasn’t the same as the stock model, and with a bit of digging, she’d found the specs for the replacement. It was a good thirty percent more powerful than stock. Angel had confirmed, based on functionality, that the powerplant, drives, and even the twin cannons were heavily modded but couldn’t determine exactly how without Juliet getting an eye on the components. The moral of the story was that Nick was an ace pilot, sure, but his ship was something special, too.

“Tiger99 should be here soon,” Angel said, interrupting Juliet’s musing. She wasn’t at the diner just to get breakfast and a good cup of coffee; she’d arranged to meet a guy selling a customized handgun. Juliet grinned at the thought. Aya’s suggestion that she read some Westerns had proved to be a little problematic. Juliet couldn’t stop fantasizing about a big-bore revolver in a quick-draw holster. When she looked in gun shops around Callisto, though, she never found one that quite struck her fancy, so Angel had been perusing the second-hand markets, and “Tiger99” had an interesting model for sale.

“Do you think I’m being silly? I mean, my needler has a lot more practical use. More rounds per magazine, non-lethal options, and it’s certainly easier to conceal.”

“You don’t intend to discard your needler, do you?”

“Nah, good point.”

“You can wear your new gun for a while, and if you find your, well, your fantasy doesn’t live up to reality, you can hang it on a peg in your room next to some of your paperbacks.”

“Hah. It's kind of an expensive piece of decoration. I haven’t bought it yet, though. Let’s see if I like it in person as much as I did in the photos. Is that Tiger99? The guy by the door looks lost . . .” Juliet waved to the skinny, long-haired fellow wearing weird, half-moon specs that sat near the tip of his long, angular nose.

“That’s him. I just received an ID ping.”

The man smiled, adjusted the collar of his long, olive-green raincoat, and approached Juliet’s table. His smile was friendly, and his wispy, clearly never-shaved, pale brown beard was kind of cute in an endearing sort of way. He reminded Juliet of some friends she and Felix had in their early twenties who hadn’t quite realized they were adults yet. She smiled back and looked into his pale green eyes as he sat across from her. “Hey there!”

“Nice to meet you, Tiger99.”

Oh lord, didn’t I put my name on the message I sent her? Why’d I put a 99 on that? Why tiger? Oh, jeez, I seem like such a dweeb. Why not something . . . shit! Did she say something else? Oh, dammit, I’m staring at her like an idiot! What do I say? Oh! The gun!

“Uh, hey, um, Lucky. Interested in the Texan?”

Of course she is, dummy! Interested? Come on, think of something else . . .

Juliet chuckled and did her best to tune out his thoughts, focusing on something other than him. She picked up her coffee cup, swirling the creamy brown contents, watching how it made a miniature whirlpool at the center. She continued to smile, trying to look friendly. “Yeah, I’m interested. Relax! You seem nervous. I’m not going to rob you or something.”

“Oh, good.” He chuckled, then gestured to his bulky, damp raincoat. “I’ve got it here.”

“And the holster? I was as interested in your leatherwork as the gun.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” He shook his head and pushed his glasses up. “I can’t promise the leather came from Texas, but it’s cowhide, nonetheless. I think it’s from Mars.”

Juliet chuckled. “No worries. Well? Are you going to let me see it?”

“Oh, right!” He pulled his zipper down and reached under the coat, pulling out a package wrapped in a pale yellow cloth. It was secured with two shrink cords. “Didn’t want anything to fall out.” He placed it on the table and then patted at his chest and then at his pants, a look of panic twisting his expression. “Shit! I didn’t bring any scissors.”

“I got it.” Juliet flicked her vibroblade out of her wrist sheath and deftly parted the shrink cords with a feather-light touch.

“Th, thanks.” As Juliet slipped the knife back in its sheath, he reached forward and began to unwrap the cloth, exposing a lovely, supple, well-oiled black leather belt and holster, clearly custom-made to hold the heavy-looking pistol inside it.

“Woah. I like the silver rivets.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice piece. Took me a while to get the look just right. It’s meant to sit low on your hip, so the belt has to be comfortable in a kind of canted position. I had to source a lot of different leather samples before I found what I wanted—supple but stiff enough that when you pull the gun, it doesn’t move.”

“And the loop at the end? It goes around my thigh?”

“Right.”

“Okay, so you’ve got what it takes when it comes to leatherwork. Let’s have a look at this beauty.” Juliet reached forward to pull the pistol out of the holster, and Tiger99 sat back, pushing his glasses up on his nose again. They began to slide down almost immediately. Juliet took hold of the biometrically adaptive grip, smiling as she felt the black polymer instantly molded to the contours of her hand. The gun slid smoothly out of the holster, almost like it wanted to come out, and Juliet saw the black “zero-resistance” lining Tiger99 had seamlessly stitched into the interior.

The Eager and Young, model 2088 Texan, was supposed to be the pinnacle of revolver technology, and when Juliet laid her eyes on it and felt the weight in her hand, she couldn’t stop the massive grin that spread across her face. Sure, the pistol was a revolver, but it was something else compared to the cheap gun she’d bought back in Arizona. First of all, it was lightweight, and she knew that was because it was constructed of incredibly durable titanium and advanced carbon fiber composites. It had a sleek, smooth, metallic appearance with a soft-silver-gray finish. She couldn’t see a screw, nut, or weld on the entire piece. It was so perfectly machined to fit that even the cylinder looked like it was part of the frame.

Still, when she touched the smooth metal above the trigger with her finger, the cylinder rotated out with a soft whir,and she saw the seven holes for the .357 caliber payload. “Seven,” she breathed softly, spinning the cylinder with satisfying, butter-smooth clicks on its perfect bearings.

“Yep. The alloy is so tough that they were able to squeeze in another chamber. See how close together they are? You’ve seen other revolvers, right? On a caliber this size, there’s usually only room for six if you want to keep integrity . . .”

He trailed off as Juliet twitched her wrist, and the cylinder snapped home with a satisfying snick. “It’s lighter than I imagined. I figured with the electronics and the recoil-dampening stuff in the grip, it would weigh more.”

“It’ll weigh more with ammo in it, and the dampeners use electromagnets, but they’re also made of a special alloy. Nobody’s cracked the patent on these things, not in the twenty years it’s been out.”

Juliet ran her eye down the sleek, seven-inch barrel. “No sights?”

“Well, they slow down the draw, and why would you need ‘em? You’ve got targeting software, yeah? This thing will sync up with your PAI, no problem. Plus, I mean, if you’re serious, you should put a few thousand rounds in at the range and practice your hip shot. You shouldn’t need to aim at anything within five meters or so.”

“You should ask him how many rounds have been through this gun’s barrel. It might need retooling,” Angel said.

“I didn’t think of that.” When Tiger99 raised an eyebrow, she pressed on, “Is this barrel good? How many rounds have you put through it?”

“That one? Only about ten. I wasn’t joking about the strength of the alloys they used in that gun; the barrel’s rated for two hundred thousand rounds. Anyway, yeah, I’ve hardly shot it; I have another model with a Jack of Spades enamel finish that’s my daily shooter.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a popular vid series in the Jovian System, Juliet. It’s an animated show about a gas pirate.”

“Oh, you aren’t familiar . . .”

“No, I get it. My PAI just filled me in.”

“Right.” Tiger99 seemed to fold into himself as he slouched, clearly embarrassed about his custom-enameled gun modeled after something in a cartoon.

“It sounds pretty nuclear, though. What colors are the enamel?”

“Red and black! It’s very cool, and I love how the black parts are around the cylinder; it never looks dirty.”

“Nice!” Juliet hefted the gun again, then pointed it at the wall to the left. “Okay to dry fire it?”

“Sure. That revolver is as modern as they get. You won’t hurt the firing pin.”

Juliet nodded and gently pulled the trigger. Like it was floating in oil, the nearly invisible hammer slid back and clickedforward. She’d hardly felt the pull. “God, that’s smooth.”

“Oh, yeah. The stock mechanism is great, but, as my ad said, this one’s upgraded—Jupiter Arms’ top-of-the-line competition trigger. Hey, if you’re not used to fast drawing, I’d practice with blanks for a while ‘cause you can blow your toes off with a trigger like that.”

“Right. You said this thing will integrate with my PAI, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess if you have good software, it won’t let you shoot yourself.”

“That’s what I was going to ask; the software can override a trigger pull?”

“Yeah, it’s got all the bells and whistles. There’s a pseudo-AI chip in that thing. It’ll talk to you if you want.”

“Uh, nah. I have enough voices in my head.” Juliet slid the gun back into the holster and then tipped it upside down. Just as advertised, the zero-resistance lining was smart and didn’t release the gun.

“Yeah, it won’t come out if your hand isn’t on the grip. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Very cool.” She looked at him, making eye contact until his cheeks started to redden. “Gonna throw in any ammo for the price?”

“I have a box on me. Custom loads. If you like ‘em, I ship to pretty much any port.”

“Quite a little business you’ve got.” Juliet nodded in approval, and his blush deepened.

“It’s pretty niche, but the customers I have are loyal. I can point you to some reviews . . .”

“Nah, we’re good, Tiger99.”

“You can call me Ryan. I don’t know why I keep that username. I guess ‘cause it’s tied to all my merchant accounts.”

“Why? It’s a cool name. Don’t sweat it.” Juliet kept one hand on the holstered pistol, confident she was going to buy it and not wanting to let it out of her control—she was in love. “Tell me about this custom ammo.”

Ryan dug around inside his raincoat again, this time depositing a nondescript cardboard box on the table. He lifted the box top and revealed twenty-five brass bullets, primers facing up. He lifted one out of the little cardboard hole that held it in place and displayed it for Juliet. The bullets were a lot bigger than her needler rounds, bigger than the nine-millimeter rounds she used in her SMG, too. It looked like a lot of powder would fit in that casing, and the red, polymer-jacketed bullet on the end looked like it would do a lot of damage. “These are loaded to twenty percent above standard .357 spec. That gun can handle ‘em, though. The polymer jacket is armor-penetrating but designed to sheer off after initial impact. The bullet underneath is a dense, highly deforming polymer meant to create a big mess inside whatever you shoot it at.”

“Sounds nasty . . .”

“Very!” He grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically.

“You ever shoot someone with one?”

“Me?” His enthusiasm instantly turned to horror, and he held up both hands. “No, no, no. I am a craftsman, not a mercenary. If you want to know if it works, read some of my reviews. I have many repeat customers.”

“All right.” Juliet shrugged and pulled the box of rounds over the tabletop closer to her. “I’ll give ‘em a try.”

“So, you’re going to buy the gun?”

“It’s pricey, but I like it. You wanted sixty-eight hundred, yeah? Can you do an even six k?”

“Seriously?” He sighed and started reaching for the holstered pistol. “That thing retails for seventy-five, and the trigger upgrade is a thousand bits.”

Juliet clamped her hand down on the gun and smiled. “Relax! I was just seeing if you were desperate to sell. I’ll pay the full sixty-eight.” She subvocalized, “Angel, go ahead and complete the purchase.”

Ryan smiled and sat back. “Ah, just got the transfer, and the contract daemon released the ownership title. It’s all yours. You can go ahead and set the biometrics.”

“Oh, I will.” Juliet gripped the pistol and watched on her AUI as Angel paired with it and programmed the grip, the cylinder release, and the trigger with her biometric data. Then she slipped it out of the holster, popped the cylinder open, and began loading it with Ryan’s custom bullets. “Think I’ll wear it on the way home.”

“Yeah, cool. It’s a real show-stopper. It’s gonna look great on you.” He coughed, almost a choke, as he realized what he was saying.

“Thank you, Tiger99.” Juliet offered him a sweet smile and grinned as his fit intensified. She thought it was kind of cute how self-conscious he was. “Want to have breakfast with me? I’ve only had coffee so far, and I’m a bit jittery. My stomach’s crying for some real food.” While he struggled to formulate an answer, Juliet stood next to the table and slung the gun belt around her hips, smiling when she realized it had little, tooled leather loops along the front for more bullets. It fit her perfectly as she fastened the silver buckle on the third notch.

“Looks good, and, yeah, I could eat.”

“Nuclear!” Juliet grinned, then put her foot on the bench seat and worked on tying the bottom of the holster around her thigh. She liked how the leather looked against her faded stretchy jeans. “How tight should it be?”

“You don’t want it to constrict you, but you want it to keep the holster from moving away from your leg when you draw. Honestly, with that zero-resistance lining, you won’t have to worry. Just tighten it to the point where it’s still comfortable.”

“Nice.” Juliet put her foot down and straightened up, reaching down to put her palm on the gun’s grip. A few patrons at nearby tables watched her, but she tried to ignore them. “Is that a good height?”

“Yeah. When you draw, lean back so you don’t have to tilt the barrel much when you pull it up to fire.”

“Right. I’ve read some . . . guides.” Juliet had almost said books. She sat back down, winked at Ryan, and said, “Well, pard? How about some grits?”

“Huh?”