Damo's hair is close cropped now, a curving design shaved into the side. His jaw looks a little sharper and his lips broader, but even with those changes he is unmistakable. The slanted eyes, dark skin, swagger in his step, and timbre of his voice are all exactly as they were when Hale first saw him.

"Who're you?" Rayner's voice cuts through the fog of warring emotion in Hale's head. "Do we know you?"

"I saw you on television," Hale says. He doesn't add, You're the reason Melissa wanted to get rid of me. It makes him feel small and inferior just to think it, even though it's true. "Your name's Damo."

"And you're a Hale, right?" Damo gives him a once over. "Little less boring, look-wise, than the standard skins, but the silver hair is a bit much. That come with one of your upgrades, or..."

Hale isn't sure how to answer except with a question of his own. "Where's your symbiont?"

"Sent me out for booze. And he likes the cocktails here. You gonna tell me where you got the upgrades?" He switches his attention to Rayner. "I'm assuming you've got something to do with it. You don't look like the usual muppets spending half their life's savings on androids. You know those upgrades aren't strictly...legal."

Hale's heartbeat skips. The way Damo shapes the word 'legal' around slightly bared teeth makes it sound like a threat. Somehow, he can bypass Hale's firewalls meant to disguise his illegal implants.

Rayner says, "We're aware," then gestures toward a corner away from the dance floor. Damo follows Rayner, still eyeing Hale with unnerving scrutiny. Hale finds the x-ray vision of another android even more unnerving than the scan of the waitress at Charity's Chow.

In a quieter corner, away from the crowds, Rayner stops by a tall table piled with empty glasses. He says, "How did you bypass Hale's firewalls?"

"Little loophole exploit. Nothing major, but I could maaaybe let you in on the loop."

Rayner glances at Hale. "In exchange for the upgrades you're interested in, I assume."

"Obviously. They seem handy."

Rayner lets Damo's statement hang suspended between them, neither agreeing to a trade nor volunteering any further information.

Damo rolls his eyes. "I'm not a bug. I learned how to bypass the whole honesty protocol ages ago. I won't turn every delinquent into the police or narc on my best friend or nothing. Besides." He leans back, his smile smug. "I don't get to use 'em if I tell anycunt about 'em, do I? And these coding limitations chafe."

Hale prickles. Damo's vulgar language bothers him. If what he says is true, and he's managed to somehow bypass his own honesty protocols, then they can't actually trust anything he says either. Hale only ever managed to lie once, and he still isn't sure how.

At that moment, Theo appears behind them, looking sweaty and flushed. Rayner seems bemused by her appearance. Hale notices the slight sheen of sweat and abundance of heat in her pelvic region and assumes that her and the bouncer's rendezvous went well.

"Hey, I was looking for you," she says to Rayner.

"Sure you were."

She looks up at Damo then, grinning toothily. "Oh, I've seen a Damo just like you on TV. Bit different hair, though."

Damo flashes his winning smile. "I am the Damo from TV," he says with not an ounce of humility. He gives Theo a long, lingering up and down. "Judging from your body mods, you're the one's been helping them out with the illegal kit."

"That's me," Theo says, unabashed and clearly far more used to dealing with nosy, arrogant androids. "What can I do ya for?"

"You can do me for nothing," Damo says, grinning. "I like you better. Not so uptight. Though this one's relaxing." He points to Rayner, whose muscle tension did indeed deflate the moment Theo arrived. "Not surprised the Hale hasn't. They do tend to act like they've got sticks up their asses."

"Fuck off," Theo interrupts him. "Hale's our buddy. Our friend. We love him, right?"

Rayner links his arm through Hale's in stalwart agreement. It warms Hale through to hear the word 'friend' applied to him so earnestly but does nothing to diminish his worry that Damo is up to no good.

Damo laughs off the reproof. "That's me told. So. Talk to me about these upgrades."

Theo launches into an in-depth discussion about the popular tech she provides, and the means by which he could hypothetically acquire it from her. How he could pay for them without his symbiont knowing. At this, Damo dismisses the concern, saying his symbiont rejects most of the android industry standards anyway. Theo continues on her explanation about secure channels and anonymous drone delivery. Her methods are incredibly complex in order to avoid data trails or outing her android customers, but Hale can't help but think that all the security in the world won't help if Damo decides to report them himself. He's already vaguely threatened them. What's to stop him using this knowledge to extort what he wants from them?

Rayner seems to notice Hale's reticence and gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. Though Hale appreciates the gesture, it doesn't assuage his fears that Damo's a risk and Theo's being overly trusting with him. It isn't just the critical comments or the conceited demeanour. He just rubs Hale the wrong way.

"The encrypted Network card," Damo says, twisting his finger in a contemplative circle. "How long do you figure to get that to me?"

Theo purses her lips. "A day? I've got some in my shop. Can drone them to a secure pickup spot in the city for you or—"

"I could just come back with you and pick it up," Damo suggests, pouring on the charm by brushing a lock of Theo's hair behind her ear.

She looks neither endeared nor put off by the gesture, but Hale bristles immediately.

"I don't advise giving him knowledge of our personal residence."

Theo shoots him a reproving look. Rayner just squeezes his arm again. Damo, though, narrows his eyes.

"Didn't fuckin' ask you, did I?" he retorts.

"Oi!" Theo interjects before Hale can justify his response. "My rule is we help who we can. Trustworthy until proven otherwise. At least where androids are concerned. Yeah, Damo, you can come along. I was planning on heading back soon anyway. Back is killing me again."

Fearing his friends' disapproval, Hale withholds any further protest. They leave the loud pulse of music and dancing for the neon lights of the city above, heading to the nearest train station. Damo saunters ahead next to Theo, who chats animatedly about the other various services she provides for androids who are on the run from their symbionts or frustrated with the limitations of their hardware. It never really occurred to Hale that Theo's benevolence extended to anyone who might need her and not just friends she encountered through her work.

Rayner says, "I can practically hear you worrying."

Hale isn't certain how to respond. Of course he's worried. In the few days since his separation from Melissa, he's been captured by scrappers and partially dismantled, made a fugitive, and endangered the life of the last person he'd ever want hurt. And something of the way Damo wanders free of his symbiont demanding the help of strangers gives the impression he cares little for anyone aside from himself.

"I hope you had fun tonight, despite the weird end to it," Rayner adds, clearing his throat. "You seemed to enjoy dancing."

Hale's lip quirks a little in a smile. It's true. Despite his worries now, the day had been fun. He still feels an echo of the static fuzz in his chest when he recalls the first experience of smell and taste. Or the way Rayner had responded to his touch when they danced.

Glass doors opening to admit them, they get on the train to make their way home. As it pulls out of the station, Theo settles into a seat next to Damo, across from Rayner and Hale. She tips her head back against the seat.

"I'm toast," she says to no one in particular, popping open the cap on her medication and taking two pills. "Don't mind me if I nap."

No one does mind. The train speeds through the network of glass tubes arcing over the city from stop to stop. As it rises to the top of one parabola, Hale studies his scans of Damo a little more carefully.

He boasts several processors twice the speed of Hale's, which enable him to process information and even change his appearance much more quickly. His battery holds its power longer than Hale's too, so that he can leave his symbiont's charge radius for longer periods. One of his components is also familiar. It's the synthetic nervous system that intrigued Hale so. The fact Damo already has it causes a burning spike of nauseous envy to climb up Hale's throat.

Damo knows what it is to feel, to wander far from his symbiont without fear of battery failure, but he wants more.

Damo notices Hale's critical eye. With a cocky smirk, he says, "Like what you see?"

Their cab is mostly deserted, so no one to overhear a conversation between two less-than-standard androids. Against all odds, Rayner is finally falling asleep too, his eyes closed, head tipped back against the seat and lips parted slightly.

"Just analyzing the upgrades you already have," Hale says.

Damo raises one dark eyebrow. "You want any of 'em in particular?"

Hale makes a non-committal noise.

"What's that?"

"I don't want anything," Hale says with emphasis. He should keep a tally of how many times he has to say it.

At that moment, the train comes to a stop and Rayner, now fast asleep, drifts sideways in his seat and comes to rest against Hale's shoulder. Hale glances down at Rayner's face, skin smoothed of the worried furrows it often wears, lashes low and brushing his freckled cheeks. The scent of apple butter shower gel is soothing despite the tense conversation.

That is until Hale looks up. Damo wears an expression of smug, unmovable certainty.

"You want him."

Hale works to hide the flush of embarrassment he feels, willing his expression to remain neutral, but inside, his processes are a blur. Damo can't know that. He's just trying to get under Hale's skin. Because Hale can't want. He shouldn't. It isn't allowed, not part of his code. It would be selfish. It would go against everything he was created for. He only wants what's best for Rayner. To care for his friends and repay them for all their kindness.

At the same time, he sees the flurry of excuses that crowd his mind for exactly what they are. Denial. He could find a thousand justifications for the way he'd chosen to dance, the way he'd brushed cream off Rayner's lip, but those justifications didn't erase the fact that underneath it all he'd really just wanted to—wanted to touch him.

That settles like a burning stone in his stomach. Of all the things he was designed for, this is far from any of them.

He opens his mouth to protest, but Damo cuts him off. "Don't deny it, that's too obvious. I saw you dancin' together like some retro romcom fuckery. It'll never work, by the way. They can't love us 'cause they don't think we're real. But I admire your optimism."

Hale's eyes narrow. "You're mistaken."

Damo lets out a brash bark of laughter. "About which bit?"

"All of it."

Damo's smile looks sharp enough to snip wires. "Sure?"

Hale isn't sure of anything. Not Damo's implications about his relationship with Rayner, or his projections of a doomed future. He does know that Rayner risked a lot to help him, at great expense to his own security and comfort, and he did it without a second thought.

"I trust Rayner more than I trust you," Hale replies bluntly.

Damo's expression flickers. Something dark chases itself across his face and then vanishes behind a mask of indifference. Damo leans back against the seat, spreading his arms over the backs so one falls across Theo's shoulders. She barely stirs, but Hale's heart rate trips like he's watching a predator sidle low over its prey. Damo smiles mirthlessly.

"Like I said. I admire your optimism."

As they near their stop, Hale receives an alert that his battery requires a full recharge soon. With Rayner chronically sleep-deprived, and their long day out in the city, his reserves are low.

At their stop, Hale gives Rayner's shoulder a gentle shake. He gets up to do the same for Theo, but Damo, ever the gentleman when under careful scrutiny, does it for him. He extends a hand and Theo accepts, rubbing her eyes and smearing her makeup.

"Ngh. I'd give my kidney for a piggy-back ride, man."

Damo, of course, gets down on one knee in front of her to oblige. "Keep your kidney though," he says.

They arrive back at the shop. Rayner goes upstairs, saying he's going to catch more sleep while he can, which should be a relief to Hale. Instead, he decides he can't join Rayner until Damo's got what he came for and been sent on his way.

The lights of Theo's workshop flash on to greet them. Damo lets her down so she can putter around through a storage cabinet filled with packets containing data drives and upgrade cards of every variety. The disorder still makes Hale itch.

She plucks out a clear packet, squinting at the fine print of the label. "Yep. Found it. Want to install it now?"

"Well, I'm not here for tea and crumpets," Damo says with a grin.

"Won't take a sec."

As Damo pulls up his shirt to allow her access to his chest panel, he casts Hale a wry look.

"What're you still doing here? You get off on this? I mean, surgery's not my thing, but you do y—OW." Theo pinches his arm. At his response, her eyes widen.

"You've got a nervous system?"

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder," Damo says, rubbing his arm sulkily.

"Sorry! It's a rare one."

"Yeah, well," Damo says, "my symbiont's plenty flush."

"Hale's looking to get that one too." She casts Hale an encouraging look. "Any pointers for him?"

Damo shrugs. "It's not all it's hyped up to be. Hell, I'd trade you mine if you wanted it."

Theo levels him with a dissecting look. "I seriously can't tell when you're serious or just being flippant."

Damo's winning smile reappears. "On my honour, I'm not shitting you. Could take that in exchange for the Network card if you're looking to barter."

"If you're serious...I can remove it for you and give it to Hale."

"Why would you do that?" Hale says.

He doesn't trust any of this. Not Damo. Not his supposed generosity. Though a part of Hale shivers with the anticipation and curiosity of an upgrade that could allow him this terrible, wonderful thing that seems so quintessential to human experiences—it coming from Damo repels him.

"It's no thing," Damo grumbles. "Pain sucks and pleasure's overrated."

Hale doesn't answer right away. He's never really thought long about the realities of pain and pleasure. These are both abstract concepts, neither of which he has the context to imagine. Aside from the generic association of pain as unpleasant and pleasure as pleasant, the two words are meaningless, which is precisely why the upgrade intrigues him.

But he isn't about to tell Damo all that.

In the back of his mind, he recognizes that Rayner still isn't asleep upstairs, even after thirty minutes. He finds himself drawn between checking on his symbiont and ensuring he keeps an eye on Damo. After a quick predictive outcome, he determines that making certain Damo doesn't cause them harm takes priority, and that he can't likely help Rayner sleep given Rayner's aversion to some of Hale's suggestions.

Sensing his disquiet, Theo says, "Well, it's too long a procedure for me to do tonight without conking out. So if you can stick around until morning, Damo, I'll take it out. If you're really sure you don't want it, and it won't get you into trouble."

"Yeah, we'll see," says Damo.

After his new Network card is successfully installed and seems functional, Damo determines that he'll go back to NeoTonto and return sometime in the week. Despite the fact his offer would make attaining those upgrades easier, Hale privately hopes Damo just never returns. Nothing about their interaction felt friendly, and he still lingers on the threats and cryptic warnings with a crackle of stress.

Once Damo leaves and Theo heads up to sleep, Hale can finally breathe. He goes upstairs to find Rayner lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Or rather, the place the ceiling would be if not for the VirtuSim in the corner projecting a hologram over the entire room. New models are able to project multiple images so that multiple users can experience the simulation from different angles within a room, but this one is limited to a small sphere around Rayner. Audio of rain pattering against a taut surface—too thin to be a roof, too pliant for a car—fills the room.

Rayner waves him closer. "C'mere."

"You should be sleeping," Hale chides.

"So should you." Rayner smiles dryly. "I'm trying this VirtuSim that's supposed to help me relax. Come sit here so you can see it too."

Hale takes a seat on the mattress next to Rayner. He's transported into a tent, raindrops dappled against the semi-transparent nylon. In the simulation, the door of the tent's been unzipped, providing a view out to the trees and wilderness beyond. A chipmunk briefly darts past and up a tree.

"I've seen that chipmunk about a bazillion times now," Rayner says. "These things are nice, but the loops are too short. Doesn't compare to the real thing."

Hale tilts his head back to watch the drips streaming down the tent as the rain picks up a little. "Have you been camping many times before?"

Rayner snorts. "No. Always wanted to. Had a friend in high school who went every summer, but my family never had the time." The mention of Rayner's family causes a crease to form between his brows. Hale waits for him to continue. "I did spend a couple years living out of my car though. It sucked. But when it rained, that's when I felt..."

He trails off but doesn't finish the thought.

Hale says, "Perhaps I could find a better quality Sim for you? I'm certain I could source one that takes place in a car."

"Eh, not worth the expense. But thanks." Rayner smiles at him.

"You've given me many gifts since we met," Hale protests. "I have no source of income by which I could afford a gift in return."

"You don't have to buy me stuff, Hale. And trust me, you don't want a job or any part of the capitalist nightmare machine. Hell, you're already treated like a—a commodity. And I don't get you stuff with the expectation of reciprocity. I get you stuff because you're my friend, yeah? Just, like, draw me a picture or something."

Hale hadn't considered that perhaps he could make something for Rayner from scratch. The thought gives him pause—and then a small buzz of excitement.

"All right. I'll generate a list of creative options that don't require considerable cost."

Rayner's lips twitch in a smile. He looks up at the tent where the cycle of raindrops loops back to the beginning. He closes his eyes, though not in sleep. Hale copies him, lying back against the mattress, eyes closed, wondering what it is that Rayner feels while listening to the wind and weather press against the tiny, insulated environment of the tent. After a long moment, his sensors alert him to the proximity of Rayner's knuckles against the back of his hand. Looking down, Hale sees Rayner's pinkie extended just enough to touch.

Emboldened by that tiny connection, Hale says, "What did you feel? In the car, in the rain?"

Rayner takes a deep breath that shakes a little on the way out. Hale doubts he'll get a response, given the long pause before Rayner's lips part.

"Safe."

Before Hale can ask whether that's changed, why it's changed, why Rayner lies awake long into the night, his symbiont stretches an arm back to the milk crate where the VirtuSim projector sits, fumbling through the hologram of the tent wall to turn it off. The sound of rain cuts out, replaced by the hum of ventilation fans and the refrigerator from the kitchen. Grey walls and graffiti art return them to Theo's spare bedroom.

"I'd better try and get some sleep before we both collapse, huh?"

Hale nods, his mind still caught on the fish hook of that last thought.

What's changed? Why doesn't Rayner feel safe now?

Hale doesn't push for answers, though. "Let me know if you need anything."

He gets up and moves to his own mattress on the floor below. It could be a blip in his data streams, but he could swear Rayner's blood pressure gives a heightened throb the moment Hale moves away from him.

All of the available sleep studies Hale's downloaded conclude that physical contact and a bed partner aid in getting quality sleep, but it gives him heart palpitations to even consider offering again after the way Rayner first reacted.

Instead, he settles into his own bed, thumbing through digital pages of ideas for handmade gifts. His algorithms come up with a number of things, many generic or ill-suited to Rayner's personality.

That's all right. He already has an idea of his own.