Connor had two more years before hitting his shield expiration date of thirty-five years old. He could be a good project manager, like Hassan, but he preferred the gig life. Welga couldn’t see the appeal, but he claimed it relaxed him. He’d never loved the physicality of combat the way she did. Shielding had been a way to spend more time together and make a reliable income, but at home, he often chose to gig during his spare hours and build up his reputation. He’d be a step below a care-bot in being helpful while she was injured. At least the city will be cooler… and free of Phoenix’s frequent sandstorms. Spring rivaled summer as the shittiest time of year in the desert.

“We don’t have a client yet,” Hassan said, “but I’m trying to keep it low-key. There are plenty of good targets in the world. I’m hoping they don’t hit us again so Ramírez has more time to heal.” He focused his gaze on Welga. “I’ll be monitoring your vitals. If your indicators go red, I’m pulling you out.”

“I’ve survived worse,” Welga said, “in places where I didn’t have juvers to help.”

“As I recall, you nearly died, too. Anyway, we’re shields, not soldiers. The Machinehood might force you to put your lives on the line, but we don’t have to make it easy for them. When I have more information, I’ll let you all know. For now, get what rest you can.”

Hassan closed out the meeting. Welga shrank his and Ammanuel’s feeds.

“Remember, you can say no to this,” Connor said. “Your contract is almost over. You can quit early, take care of yourself. Ao Tara says you can’t live in peace if you’re full of action.”

“Who?”

“A Neo-Buddhist monk. I’ve been listening to her lectures. You should try one.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s not about god or religion. It’s about embracing a peaceful existence.”

“That’s why I have you around, cardo, so I can embrace peace.”

He smiled. “You’re thirty-five. Aren’t you a little tired of the fighting?”

“Not enough to walk away from double pay and the chance to face these Machinehood assholes again. Especially not after what they did to us.”

“I could quit, too,” he said. “My gig ratings are getting decent. I could do that full-time.”

“Less money, more hours, no stability? The only reason you enjoy gigs is because you have shield work as an alternative.” She shook her head. “I wish I could trade places with you and have two more years. Go enjoy your meditation or whatever, and I’ll see you soon.”