When Mig steps out, the light stings his eyes. It's hard to think it's still morning, still the same day. Azizi sits in front of his home, his thin brown legs dangling over the edge.

Mig tongues the gap in his teeth. "Keep an eye on Olive for me?"

Azizi nods.

He taps the corner of his visor and makes his way down the pathway. The absence of his M189 throws off his stride. He's gotten used to its weight. There's no sign of blue caps when he reaches ground level. It doesn't surprise him. Aiko will circle around, wait for confirmation, then surge in from underneath.

The bar's quiet this morning. It has a proper name, but everyone just calls it Ellie's place. Mig steps through the doors and is hit by a hot wall of darkness. Inside smells of piss, beer, and body odour. Ellie lights a cigarette and leans on the bar table. She's taller and paler than average. Her father was a blue cap. The last person who asked about it died on Azizi's table.

"Mig," she says. "Knew you'd be back."

He sits down. "Yeah."

"Trouble with the wife?" She lights another cigarette off the end of her own and offers it to him.

It's an old Earth thing. Husbands and wives. He accepts the cig with a nod. The first drag is like a lungful of razors. The second is bliss. When she slides a beer in front of him, he exhales a poisonous blue cloud. Warmth starts to expand in his chest and loosen the muscles in his core and shoulders.

Mike and Aiko had wanted to make vows like they did in the old days. They could've done it, but he had kept stalling. After the next mission. Always after the next mission. More collateral damage. He rubs his eyes and winces.

"I warned you. That little moon flower has deep roots." Ellie smiles, but her eyes are like burn marks in her face. "Hear about Suzy?"

He shakes his head.

"Rain says she's dead. Whole crew fragged in the sky."

"Shit."

"Shit's right." She leans close and the room veers a little. "You've been creeping out at night. Hear anything about it?"

The room shifts in his peripheral vision. He recognizes the feeling. His cigarette must have lace. A tranq that's quick to take effect, quick to metabolize, hard to trace. Good for getting information on the sly. He blows a smoke ring and counts back from 100. "Worth a free beer?"

"Worth another breath, sadi?"

"And a beer?"

Ellie stares at him for a long time. She straightens up and pours herself a shot of something faintly green. She holds it up, her other hand invisible beneath the bar top.

"For Suzy."

He raises his mug. They drink. He can feel the sight of a pistol drilling into his centre of mass. When he sets his beer down, he makes it to 50. His body feels pleasantly aglow.

"Tried to raise her on comm last night." He digs into one of the pouches on his suit and produces the piece of shrapnel. "Found this. Lots of them scattered around. Someone dropped her Xenon hard."

Ellie picks the piece up with both hands. A twist of grief pulls on her face, then it's gone.

"Who?"

"Don't know."

She leans on the counter, a SIG8-5 casually pointed at him. "You brought two blue caps in. That was Suzy's last haul."

"It was."

"Do I have to ask Olive myself?"

Mig moves before thinking about it. He grabs her wrist and pulls her forward. She hits the bar and grunts. He bends her wrist and rips the SIG out of her hand. Her finger makes an audible pop. She steps back and cradles her hand. Her eyes are nearly black in the dim lighting. He ejects the round out of the SIG's chamber, then the clip. The bullets have a distinct red tip. Suit-killers.

"Losing people's hard. You loved Suzy. I don't hold that on you." He tilts his head slightly and picks up the cigarette. "But put hands on Olive and I'll put this out on your eye."

"You dislocated my finger."

"You got sloppy."

She glares at him, then looks down at her hand. Her index finger is bent at an odd angle. She grasps it at the second knuckle and resets it with a practiced motion. It makes another faint pop. She holds her hand up and flexes it against the light.

He toys with the ejected round. "Info's stand alone. Might be something, might be nothing."

Ellie sniffs and leans back a little.

"One of the blue caps could be UNIS." He points at her unsteadily with the cigarette. "I'm talking a ghost, not some seat warmer."

She pours herself another drink and knocks it back.

The door creaks open. They both turn to see a tall black silhouette that nearly brushes the top of the doorframe. Mike blinks owlishly as the door shuts. He gazes around the room, nose slightly wrinkled.

Ellie watches him sit down. "What's your drink?"

"Uh, can I have what he is having?"

Her eyes flick to Mig. "Sure."

She pours a beer and shoves it toward him. Mike takes a deep breath and sips it. His body abruptly spasms. He sets the mug down and coughs until his face is red. Ellie's mouth curls like singed paper.

"Not quite your taste, blue cap?"

"The taste is perfect." Mike wipes tears from his eyes. "Thank you."

Mig sets the suit-killer bullet flat on the counter and spins it with his thumb and index finger. "Little far from home."

"Oh, shush." Ellie leans forward and smiles. "Shows some character. Most blue caps turn their noses up at us. What's your name?"

"Mike." He clears his throat. "I know ḡarīb. What is a blue cap?"

"Used to call soldiers that. You know, because the blue berets way back? Now it's anybody from Earth."

"Are you a red cap, then?"

Ellie takes a drag on his cigarette and exhales a curdled breath. "They call me a purple heart. It's an act of bravery to get with a Martian. Plus red and blue make purple. Cute, right?"

"They must have thought so," Mike says. "Which tells you all you need to know about them."

"An optimist. Must be new here."

He rubs the back of his neck. "Still battling jetlag."

"Might take a few weeks. Mig tells me the extra 40 minutes on our sol adds up. Gets worse before it gets better."

"Mig." Mike looks at him. "Nice to finally know your name."

He pinches out his cigarette and places it upright beside the bullet. "Didn't come here for conversation."

"We're having a drink to a friend of mine." Ellie refills her shot glass. "You'll join us, Mike?"

"I...of course."

"Good." She raises her glass and waits for Mike to clink his against hers. Another old Earth tradition. "To Suzy."

"To Suzy."

Mike takes the shot in one gulp. He swallows with visible effort. "Who is Suzy?"

Ellie slams her glass on the counter. The bullets jump and roll in a tight circle near Mig's hands. "The love of my whole life. Someone murdered her out in the Rust."

"Murdered?" Mike wipes his forehead.

She slowly spins her shot glass with her fingertips. "One moment you're happy, the next...." She shrugs with forced nonchalance. "Can't figure out why."

Mig takes a long drink. "She was a skimmer."

"Don't get all uppity about it. You were this close to hopping on their ride." Ellie grinds her cigarette on the bar without breaking eye contact. "Besides, Rain's crew never killed for fun. Not like those Sigma assholes who fragged Olive's foster family."

"Is this the person who took our things?" Mike pushes his drink aside and leans forward. "What about the pilots? Coby Laughlin and Alona Mosseri. Are they alive?"

Mig rights one of the suit-killers that fell over. "If they're worth something."

"Everybody's worth something," Mike mumbles.

Ellie pours herself another shot. "You really are an optimist." She knocks it back and sets the glass down with a thud. "Explains why you came in alone."

Her right hand grabs Mike's wrist. The other brings a small pig-sticker down on his hand, piercing all the way through to the bar top. He screams, the jugulars in his neck bulge beneath his skin.

"Where's the other one?" She bares her teeth in a real smile and twists the knife ever so slightly. "If I make you squeal loud enough, will they come running?"

Mike clenches his teeth. "Sam."

She cocks her head, eyes flicking to Mig. "Who's Sam?"

He shrugs. A rivulet of blood inches toward him across the bar top. It's so red, it looks fake. He pushes the SIG farther to his right. "Now you're just making a mess."

Ellie grabs Mike's collar and pulls him in close. "Who's the ghost? Who killed Suzy? Was it you?"

"It was just us." Mike stares at her, then looks to Mig. His eyes are brown, red-rimmed, glassy. "Tell her, Sam. It was just us out there."

She puts a slight angle on the knife and he groans through clenched teeth. "Sam Sam Sam. Suzy's the only name you should worry about."

Mig finishes his beer. "You've made your point, Ellie."

"I don't want to make a point," she replies evenly, "I want to see this ghost. You need to help me with that, blue cap."

All Mike can do is grab his wrist and suck deep breaths through his mouth.

"You make dust for a UNIS heavy-hitter, then what?" Mig starts putting the gun back together. "Think somebody like that won't blow our atmosphere? They did in High Dune." He snaps the clip back in and loads a bullet into the chamber. "All it takes is one fuck-up."

Her eyes are dark and unblinking. "Don't cross me on this, Mig."

"Stabbing a blue cap in your bar at midsol? Stupid." He puts one elbow on the counter and rests the SIG upright against his forearm. "I warned Suzy. Now I'm warning you. Earth will know."

She looks at him for a long time. "Bet she told you to go fuck yourself."

"In her way," he says. "Didn't make a difference."

Ellie rips the knife out and blood gouts from the wound. She twirls it in her hand as Mike slips off his chair, hand cradled against his chest. Mig taps the control module on his wrist with a pinkie finger. An automatic transfer covers both beers. He gets out of his seat, grabs Mike's good arm, and drags him outside. The whole of Mars shifts underneath his feet.

"I want my gun back in perfect condition," she calls out before the door shuts.