"Do I even want to know what you did to that creep?" Kirk said, though he struggled to fight down a smile. Nevay got results – there was no disputing that.

She grinned devilishly. "Probably not. Some things the virgin mind isn't equipped for."

"Bite me."

"Maybe one day."

"Would you two put a bloody sock in it?" Doser grumbled as the cruiser slid to a halt at the roadside. "We're here."

Kirk shot Nevay a withering glance, before turning his attention back to Hadrian. He opened the door of the cruiser and stepped out into a retail park just outside the corporate cordon of the dock districts. The place was busy right now in the early evening, broad store-fronts spilling light into the car park clogged with vehicles. People scurried this way and that, flooding in and out of SafeSupply supermarkets, Ness-Net tech emporiums, Real-Raid kiosks, Skiltron and Ardenne hardware stores, Shelf-Life show rooms and more.

In some sense, it was a nice change, being somewhere with a bit of normal life to it. On the other hand, though, it meant that the creeping chaos was digging deeper into Hadrian. He checked his gun-holster was secure and looked around for their destination amongst the throng.

"Over there," Nevay said, giving him a tap on the arm and pointing. Looking, he saw the low, red-pink sign: RIPROAR BAR AND GRILL. At a glance it looked like a friendly enough place, all bright lights and smoke from extractor fans, people visible through the windows sitting at tables. Not exactly the sort of place he'd expected to end up.

"You sure that's it?" Kirk asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

She shrugged. "That's what Scay said. Don't think the little bitch was in a lying mood."

"Let's go," Doser said as he ambled round from the other side of the cruiser, fiddling with the strap of his gun holster. "I'm hungry."

"Are we really here to eat?"

"You want to announce to everyone what we're up to?" The detective shot him a scathing look. "C'mon, Balfour. We go in, get a bite to eat, blend in with the clientele, and once everybody's forgotten that we're there, then we go looking."

"Look, I'm just gonna say it," Nevay said as they walked towards the diner. "Whatever we're chasing – whatever's going on with little Treysi – it doesn't look like we're on the trail of that Lurker."

"We don't know that for sure," Doser replied, but Kirk shook his head bleakly.

"No, she's right," he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "The notes I have on that thing, this doesn't fit with anything. They were designed to go straight to the deepest, high security areas and extract or kill a target. They're not spies. They're not going to fuck about with this kind of thing."

"Then what are we chasing?"

"Treysi Cabrera." Kirk shrugged. "For now that'll have to do."

Doser shouldered the door of the diner open and led them in. No one challenged his big frame, a few locals stepping back askance as they entered. The smell of the food washed over Kirk and he felt himself instantly salivating. Maybe getting something to eat wasn't such a bad idea. The place took its cues from East-Lantic style, all square booths and couches instead of chairs, with a long bar area lined with stools just in front of the kitchen.

They found a table towards the back, but Kirk was only half paying attention keeping his eyes open for what they were really after. It didn't take long to spot it, a glittering oblong advert screen off to the right of the diner's kitchen area. He didn't recognise the corporation, which made sense. Scay's info had said the thing was a front. It seemed to be extolling the virtues of some obscure microprocessor for optimising your quarterly accounts – hardly the sort of thing that a denizen of Hadrian's dockside districts would have much use for.

"Alright, order something," Doser grunted, shoving a menu disc across the table at it. Kirk trapped it under one hand, and when he released it a 2D holo of the food on offer shimmered into life, semi-transparent.

He scanned it for a moment, then ordered a sandwich of milled sausage and fries.

"Live a little, Kirk," Doser chuckled wryly as he added three beers to the tab before sending it away. "Way we're going, might be your last."

"Real 'glass-half-full' kind of guy aren't you?"

"You try policing this shit hole for twenty years and see how optimistic you are."

Nevay sniggered. "One nil, Mr. Doser."

They waited. Minutes passed and Kirk tried to figure out what to do with his hands, drumming on his thighs, lacing and unlacing his fingers, chewing a thumbnail. He was grateful when the food arrived and gave him an outlet for his nervous energy. He lathered a thick layer of garlic sauce over the sausage before sinking his teeth into it. Across from him, Doser set about a towering triple stacked burger, while Nevay ripped ravenously at a still-sizzling pile of kebab meat.

He had to admit that the beer did steady his nerves. Washing down the last of the sandwich and fries, he exhaled a deep breath and dipped his head subtly towards the ad board.

"Thanks for the scran," he said. "I-Board's over there."

"Easy, kid," Doser said without looking up. "All in good time." He crammed the last of the burger into his mouth, chewing with relish for several seconds. When his eyes opened, he looked positively blissful. "Wish all our little adventures had a diner like this one."

"Yeah, maybe you can marry it," Nevay laughed, picking at her teeth idly. "Kirk's right. Let's see what all this shit is about." She rose from the table, giving the detective a thump on the shoulder.

With some reluctance, Doser shuffled out of the booth to join them, and they sidled their way over to the ad, leaning in around it to examine the display. At a glance there was nothing out of the ordinary, but Nevay's painstakingly extracted information said otherwise.

"So, this is it?" Kirk gave her a dubious glance. "This is where Scay said to go?"

"That's what she said," Nevay confirmed. "Find this... thing and say the phrase. Don't know what's supposed to happen next." She shrugged. "I'd go back and check, but something tells me we're working against the clock."

Kirk bit his lip glancing around awkwardly. Nobody was paying any real attention to them right now, but he still felt like an idiot who was about to try and talk to a piece of the décor. In the end, he stuffed the sensation down, leaned close, and said the phrase quietly.

"Every revolution," he began, "is a freak, a mutant, a monstrosity."

For a few seconds he just stood there, face to face with an ad-screen. Awkwardness crawled across his skin and he glanced at Doser. The detective shrugged. Nevay's face slipped into an expression of irritation and she folded her arms.

A flicker of light pulled his attention back.

The screen changed, the advert turning translucent. Beneath the sheen of the supposed accounting advert, a vaguely shaped face took form, like something improperly carved out of clay. In the void that passed for a mouth, one word at a time appeared.

Have – you – seen – enough?

Have – you – lost – enough?

What – if – you – could – fight – back?

And – what – if – you – could – win?

The words disappeared and the face dissolved, melting into a set of coordinates. Doser quickly brought his visor up to capture them. Without the joys of an implanted visor to access the datastream, Kirk made do with snatching a knapkin and pen from the nearest table and scribbling them down, just in case.

Their haste turned out to be warranted. The location vanished an instant later and the advert returned.

Kirk tried saying the phrase again, but nothing happened. He frowned and stepped back, looking to his companions.

Doser frowned. "Well, what in the fuck was that all about?"

"What the hell is this Treysi girl snared in?" he murmured.

"Looks like a recruitment drive," Nevay put in, sounding a little sour. "Thought we were the ones starting a revolution?"

"Maybe somebody else has their own ideas about what a revolution should look like," Kirk muttered. He motioned with his head, starting towards the door. "C'mon, we look like a bunch of weirdos hanging around this thing."

Once they'd paid their bill and shuffled out into the car park again, Nevay was the first to speak.

"Okay, D," she crooned, tossing him an expectant look. "Where we off to next?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't call me 'D'."

"Jesus. Alright, Detective, where?"

"I dunno. According to city maps there's nothing out there. Just a flatsite – bulldozed the foundations for some development then someone ran out of money, or patience, or both. Whole thing was abandoned."

"Makes a good cover, don't you think?"

"Also means we won't have a fucking clue what's waiting, don't you think?"

"But we've got to go though," Kirk said, looking from one to the other. "I mean, we do don't we? We didn't jump through all these fucking hoops for nothing, did we?"

Doser shrugged. "Like Nevay said, we were supposed to be looking for this Lurker of yours. This doesn't seem to be that."

"Oh, fuck the Lurker," he snarled back. "What about Treysi?"

Nevay rolled her eyes. "I dunno, Kirk, what about her?"

"She's gone. Whatever happened out there, she didn't come back to her parents. And you're going to tell me that all this-," he gestured wildly all around him, "all this shit, with the secret codes, and Scay, and the disappearances, and people dying on the docks, it's all just one big coincidence?!"

"I didn't say that."

"Well then?"

"Well what?!" She shook her head irately. "Kirk, we've got bigger problems than some runaway. From the sounds of all this, she left without a kick in the arse from anyone. Something's out there killing people on the docks. Corps are cracking down on anyone and everything in pissing distance. If she launched herself into the middle of it, I don't see how that's our responsibility."

He scoffed. "So that's that?"

"Sorry, Balfour. I'm not sure she's worth it." Nevay gave him an apologetic shrug. He looked to Doser, and the detective didn't look convinced either.

"Kirk, I'd like to know what happened to this girl," he said, speaking more earnestly than usual. "But I'm already way the fuck and gone out of my jurisdiction. Captain's going to have my ass on a plate as it is. This..." He sighed. "I think Jennings is right. It ain't worth it."

Disbelief propelled him into his next course of action. Kirk stuffed the napkin with the coordinates into his pocket.

"Then you can both go and screw yourselves," he spat. "I'll go on my own." And he turned and walked away from them.

"What – fuck! Kirk, get back here!" Nevay blurted as she started after him.

"You can come with me or you can piss off."

Doser chugged awkwardly in pursuit. "Hey, bloody hell, kid. Take a beat will you. You go out there on your own-,"

"What? Think something's gonna happen to me?" He rounded on them, eyes blazing. "I don't know why you're treating me like a fancy mug that's gonna break if you drop it. I might not be a sainted fucking detective," his gaze shifted to Nevay, "or a torturer, but I can look after myself. I've survived plenty of shit. I've killed people. I'm not a puppy that's gonna get hit by a car if you turn your back for five seconds."

He pointed towards the mass of the city. "Now, I'm going out there, because someone in this god-forsaken excuse for a city should at least try and find out what happened to this girl. If you two aren't going to help, fine, but you're not going to stop me."

His voice echoed through the car park. A few passers-by shot them curious glances, but no-one got too close. Doser and Nevay looked at each other. An unspoken argument seemed to pass between them, faces twitching, heads making tiny nods toward him.

Eventually, Nevay's expression softened. She planted her hands on her hips, eyes downcast for a moment. Then she gave Doser a light slap on the chest with the back of her hand.

"C'mon. We've come this far." She looked at Kirk wearily. "I hope you realise, that moral compass of yours is gonna get us all killed one day."

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