He gives me my script but leaves me alone to make the calls, saying he’s only a ping away if I need him. I thank him, glad he won’t be hovering.

One by one, I go through my few friends and colleagues. I’m only amending the story of my life a little—or what was going to be the story of my life, before all this happened. I’m to say I’m going to China earlier than I planned, and Tila’s coming with me. Once I change my implant, I’ll phone Tila’s friends. It’ll be my first undercover role: to convince them that I am my sister. I shiver at the thought.

After those first calls are done, it’s physical training. Detective Nazarin takes me to the room with the Chair and the gym. He faces me, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have muscle mods, correct?”

I nod. “Enough to keep me toned without having to exercise much.” Because I’m lazy.

“Good. That’ll help with recovery. Fighting techniques will be part of the information you download, but let’s see how you are on your own.”

He runs me through a basic diagnostic, figuring out how much weight I can lift or press, how flexible I am, how fast and far I can run. His fingertips rest on the pulse of my neck, taking my resting heart rate. I look up at his dark brows, the scars, the square jawline. He’s attractive in a dangerous way.

“Slow resting heart rate,” he says.

“They programmed it that way.”

He smiles a little, and again it lights the harshness of his face.

I think I do a little better than he expected, which is good, but I can tell he wishes I were stronger than I am. I think of my sister—the muscles on her arms. She claimed it was from dancing with customers at the club, plus a few extra implants. I didn’t wonder at the time why she felt the need to be so much stronger. How dangerous are the Ratel—has she needed to physically protect herself?

Nazarin teaches me self-defense moves. I’ve never taken any kind of combat sport, though I’ve often wanted to. Tila convinced me to go with her to dance classes instead. Some of the moves I learned in capoeira transfer pretty well, at least.

Overall, though, it’s a thoroughly humbling experience. Detective Nazarin doesn’t hurt me, but after a while his light blows start to ache. My limbs aren’t moving as quickly or as seamlessly as I’d like. Nazarin easily dodges my paltry attempts to attack him.