“Manya!” Cedar shouted as he hammered on the door.

“Son of a bitch, what?” Many screeched back as she yanked the door open, her hair was stuck up at odd angles and she was wearing stained sweats. “Oh god, it’s you. You do realise my ill, aging mother with a heart condition is currently trying to sleep?”

“Vaki’s been taken,” Cedar snapped, ignoring Manya’s protests and pushing past her into the apartment.

“Oh for crying out loud, you had literally one job!” Manya groaned, rubbing her hands aggressively up and down her cheeks. “I’m the one doing all the actual hard work. You just had to babysit him!”

“I recognised the guy that took him,” Cedar continued, “I saw him in your boss’, Creon’s, shop. I tried to go back there but the place is dead on Fridays. I need to know where the tech market is held tonight.”

“Woah, slow down,” Manya sighed, beckoning for Cedar to follow her into a small hallway and finally into a narrow bedroom. There were posters of local metal bands adorning nearly every inch of wall space and a series of computer screens mounted against the far wall. “I was literally just working on the case,” Manya told him.

“I need to get to Creon,” Cedar stated, the tension that had been rippling across his shoulders since the store had now crept up his neck to the base of his skull and was drilling new waves of migraine across his synapses. He bitterly regretted not having picked up a bottle of something whilst he was out to try and dull the sensation.

“Okay, just,” Manya huffed, sitting down on her bed and tying her hair up in a bun, “just calm the fuck down first. The guy you’re looking for, he could be regular, in which case I’ve got just as much chance of recognising him as Creon would. You got any images of him?”

Cedar held up the memory stick he had confiscated from the grocery store. He waited nervously as Manya perused the footage.

“I don’t know him,” she shrugged, staring at the screen. “Like it’s a shitty picture, maybe he dyed his hair recently?” She took a sharp intake of breath as she leaned forwards, “Wait, what’s that?”

“It’s an EM pusl-“ Cedar began as Manya tutted to interrupt him.

“Yes, thanks I know that,” she snorted, “but look,” she pointed at the small black device, “it’s crested with a maker’s mark. Oh Jesus it’s a crown…”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s one of Creon’s,” Manya replied grimly.

“Manya,” Cedar groaned pleadingly, “tell me where he is tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Manya chewed a hangnail off of her already raw and bleeding thumb. “The market doesn’t run on a Friday night, no one would go. But I know where Creon will be. I’ll take you there.”

Cedar waited outside the room whilst Manya changed. When she reappeared she was wearing acid pink jeans with a cropped black sweater, a black studded choker around her neck and her eyes heavily kohled.

“This isn’t a date,” Cedar snapped, they should be on the move already and his nerve endings felt itchy and raw.

“Like I’d date you,” Manya gave a look of undisguised disgust, “god knows where you’ve been.”

“Manya,” Cedar growled.

“You don’t want us to stand out and spook anyone useful do you?” Manya retorted with a swish of her now braided hair.

“We’re going to a club?” Cedar narrowed his eyes.

“Ever heard of Cobol?” Manya asked, shrugging on a leather jacket as they excited the apartment, her heeled boots clacking on the floor.

“Yeah,” Cedar groaned. “We’ve raided it twice.”

“Oh fantastic,” Manya hissed, “well let’s hope you’ve got a forgettable face then.”

Cobol was a club on the other side of the colony ship, known for dodgy deals and illegal synth sales. Saorise and her previous partner had staked the place out for months before seizing a number of unregistered AIs that had been working as strippers and sex workers, along with seven bricks of the drug Clic.

“This is where your boss spends his free time?” Cedar grimaced up at the club’s front. It was a faded fake wood painted in a pale, peeling blue. The neon sign above the door was flickering and buzzing intermittently.

“Oh, because it’s way less classy than the shit holes I’m sure you frequent,” Manya rolled her eyes.

“What the fuck kind of impression do you have of me?” Cedar muttered, walking up to the entrance and finding himself blocked by two burly looking bouncers.

“He’s with me!” Manya trilled way too cheerfully as she skipped up to the men and showed them some kind of loyalty pass.

“You have a membership card to the Cobol?” Cedar sniffed in disgust.

“No you dickhead I have a membership card to the Tech Guild that lets them know I’m not out for trouble. Now try and look less like a jackass cop.”

“Whatever,” Cedar replied, already scanning around the club for signs of Creon.

“Hello there sugar,” a sultry voice oozed as a slender red headed woman with glowing green eyes approached them, slipping her hand up Cedar’s bicep and squeezing suggestively.

“You seen this guy?” Cedar retorted, drawing out his phone with a picture of Creon on it.

“Ignore him!” Manya squeaked, slapping Cedar’s phone away before the female android caught sight of the photo. “He’s just super particular about his tastes and when he came in here last time there was this one AI who had a tongue like an octopus on steroids!” Manya gave the woman an exaggerated wink as Cedar tried not to bite his own tongue off.

“Oh, pity,” the woman drawled, retracting her hand. “You’re not meant to have photos of the workers though,” she frowned down at Cedar’s phone.

“He doesn’t,” Manya replied quickly, just some generic image search result that looked like him. “Anyway, we’re going to get a drink first so we’ll just head to the bar.”

Manya pulled Cedar along with her past the bemused looking woman towards a dark wood panelled bar.

“What the hell was that about?” Cedar asked as he was unceremoniously pushed onto a bar stool.

“Are you literally a fucking idiot?” Manya snapped. “I mean are all cops just dropped on the head as babies or something?”

“Manya,” Cedar growled.

“No, seriously,” Manya gave an un-amused laugh, “you start acting like you’re looking for someone in here and every single criminal termite is gonna go scuttling back into the woodwork. Especially someone like Creon! Everyone here is either buddies with him or does business with him. Also that woman was an employee of Cobol, do you seriously not think she’s going to immediately flag anything to her owners if it seems amiss?”

“Fine,” Cedar grunted reluctantly, annoyed at how stupid he felt, “you have a point.”

“Look, I know you’re eager to get you little bot-boy back,” Manya sighed, “but you do this wrong and Creon will become a fucking ghost.”

“Alright, alright,” Cedar held up his hand, urging her to stop. “What would you suggest?”

“Two vodkas, with spice ice,” Manya replied. Spice ice was stimulant infused frozen crystals, legal, but barely. “And stay put whilst I do a round of the bar and try to find Creon. I’m going to draw less attention than you and your damn scowl.”