Angel woke in complete darkness, a thin film resting on her face. Just as she began to stir, she felt an arm cross over her chest and lightly hold her in place.

“Try not to move around too much,” Mae said.

“What’s going on, where are we?” Angel replied.

“We had to bail on the Raptor while it leads the federals off. For now we’re hiding under a thermal blanket to hide from their sensors.”

“O-oh…. When is it coming back?”

“I don’t know,” Mae said. “In theory, now that the Raptor doesn’t have passengers it can shake the fighters, but it won’t be able to slip back while the feds are watching the area.”

“And how long will that last?”

“That depends on if they noticed our landing. Hopefully they’ll decide we’re long gone and withdraw, though I think those federal drones can loiter for days.”

“Days!” Angel said, then squeaked and added softly, “Sorry.”

Mae laughed. “It’s fine… probably.”

“Still, are we going to have to stay huddled under this thing all that time?”

“You wish it was that easy,” Mae said. “But unfortunately the thermo-shield doesn’t work anywhere near that long, especially when it’s covering three people. Our best bet is to stay on the move.”

“Won’t that make us easier to see?”

“No, the trees should obstruct regular optics, and as long as we keep the shield up we won’t show on infrared.”

“Wait,” Angel said. “Are you implying we’ll have to march through the forest carrying this sheet over our heads?”

“I said it wouldn’t be easy,” Mae said. “Anyway, let’s get moving before the barrier gets a chance to heat up.” She turned to the other side. “You good, Arte?”

“Well, you dropped me on a rock, so my butt hurts,” he answered.

Mae laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She carefully rolled into a squat, then held the sheet over them. “I’ll take the lead. You two can take turns carrying the rear. Make sure to keep it out enough to cover your feet.”

They stood together, then lined up with Angel in the middle and started walking. They continued for hours, stopping periodically to rest their arms and for Mae to check their position. She carried an emergency pack from the Raptor which contained a tablet computer.

“How long do we have to keep this up?” Angel asked after one of their breaks. “We aren’t walking all the way back to Central or something, are we?”

“It’s, ah, a little hard to say,” Mae said. “Right now I’m taking us to an abandoned village beside the old interstate. If we can find a sturdy enough building we should be able to hunker down and wait them out.”

“And after that the Raptor can come pick us up?”

“That’s the plan, at least.”

“How far is the village?”

“Oh, it’s been about two miles for the last hour,” Mae said.

“What? How does that work.”

“If the feds are being thorough, which is likely, they can infer where we took our breaks from the heat signature on the ground. If we went straight to our destination we’d leave an obvious trail to where we’re hiding. Right now I’m taking us to a spot close to the freeway but far from the village. Hopefully, if they actually are tracking us, they’ll see we stopped there and assume a car came to pick us up.”

Angel sighed. “This man on the run routine is a pain in the butt.”

“Zero out of ten, do not recommend.” Mae laughed with Angel.

They continued in silence a few minutes, keeping to themselves until Arte said, “Are there still cars driving down that road?”

“Mostly auto-trucks,” Mae said. “Perhaps a few buses. And no, before you ask, we can’t hitch a ride on any of them. Federal vehicles are all connected to their surveillance grid. One of them catches so much as a glimpse of us and we might as well have called Senator Martel himself and told him our location.”

“What about non federals ones?”

Mae huffed. “The only other people driving these roads are from Thirteen, and frankly, running into them would make this situation worse.”

Arte hummed, then said, “Aren’t some of the vehicles for associates?”

“It would take an actual, honest to God miracle for us to run into one of those,” Mae said.

“Not if we forced it.”

“You mean like call someone?” Mae said. “Who do you know that could get a car out here in the next couple of hours? The nearest Blue Zone is more than a thousand miles away.”

“Well, not a car,” Arte said. “But a truck, and Crown.”

“The company you work for? You really think they’d send something out here?”

“Why not?” Arte said. “I mean, they once brought me two cities over when I accidentally took a job out there. Asides from being a crappy ride, it didn’t give me any trouble.” They walked on in silence for a minute, before Arte added, “Well?”

“Ah, sorry,” Mae said. “I…. Could it really be that easy?”

“Won’t they notice a truck picking us up?” Angel said.

“There is a chance of that,” Mae said. “Though all our options carry some risk, and I wonder if they even considered the possibility we could get a ground vehicle. They know we have the Raptor, and the road network is mostly under their control….” They continued a few minutes, then Mae said, “I think it’s worth a shot. Let’s rest here while Arte and I schedule a pickup.”

They picked a relatively flat patch of ground nearby and parked there. Arte and Mae spent the time working on Mae’s tablet, while Angel rested her arms. After their short break, they packed up and moved on, this time to a place further down the road, which Mae determined would give them the best concealment while working out with the relative travel times.

The last leg of their journey proved to be the longest yet, and when they were finally packed into the back of the Crown work truck Angel’s arms were totally useless. By the look of her companions they weren’t doing much better. Even Mae struggled to maneuver in the vehicle’s cramped rear cabin. Arte crept into the front seat to shutter the window before returning to flop on the floor.

He groaned. “Everything is pain.”

“It’ll be about twelve hours before we reach Central City, so go ahead a take a nap.” Mae laughed. “Though I can’t promise you won’t wake up with us piled on top of you.”

Arte didn’t respond, as he had already fallen asleep. Angel, meanwhile, was too exhausted to object to the suggestion. Arte occupied what little space there was to lie flat. To distract herself from her aching arms, she turned to Mae and said, “Do you think this’ll work?”

“Hopefully,” Mae answered. “Though the only sign of our failure might be us getting blown up in a drone strike.”

Angel frowned. “That’s not encouraging.”

“Sorry. I think this was our best option, at least.” She smiled. “And besides, we didn’t get any warnings from Cybel, so it can’t be that bad of a plan.”

Angel hummed, then after a second said, “That still feels so weird to me.” Mae cast a curious glance at her. “Cybel, I mean. I’ve spent my whole life… guarded by a fancy computer system, so the idea should be familiar, but….” She gestured vaguely.

“You’re starting to wonder if you weren’t the one being protected?” Mae offered.

Angel didn’t answer for a long moment, then said, quietly, “Maybe.”

“Well, here’s a question for you,” Mae said. “If you could choose between the CSA, or Cybel, which would you pick? Or even rely on friends and family?”

“Do they still do that in those… association things?”

“Mostly.” Mae smiled. “This may come as a surprise, but Arte and I aren’t typical. The majority of us don’t think it’s worth paying Cybel to look after them.” She laughed. “Especially since she can be a bit of a nuisance herself.” She leaned over and whispered in a faux conspiratorial tone, “Sometimes I think she’s annoying on purpose.”

Angel laughed. “Why do you say that?”

Mae shrugged. “Nothing concrete, but truth be told, Cybel is a mystery. No one knows where she came from. One day she just started offering her services.”

“Weird,” Angel said.

“It sure is,” Mae said, then smiled. “Though I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer my question.”

“Ah, right.” Angel blushed, and looked down. “To be honest I… don’t feel comfortable answering.” She shook her head. “I don’t even like thinking about it.”

“Interesting,” Mae said. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know….”

“Are you wondering how someone becomes an associate?”

Angel blushed and answered in a hushed voice, “A little.”

Mae smiled mischievously. “It depends a bit on where you’re coming from, to be honest. For instance, if your parents are associates, it’s much easier to join their association when you become an adult. I presume that’s how Arte got a premium tier in Psa Psa.”

“Oh, so it’s hard get in?”

“I wouldn’t say hard, but Standing Associations have to be pretty exclusive to work, you know?”

“Not really?”

Mae hummed, then awkwardly brushed the back of her head. “I’m not much good at teaching,” she said, then muttered, “or sales.” She then took a deep breath and continued, “Alright, I think you get the idea that the purpose of associations is to help people work together without necessarily trusting everyone involved, and to give them some mechanism to resolve disputes without having to, you know, go fight it out.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Angel said. “It’s similar to a government in that regard.”

Mae laughed. “A lot of associates wouldn’t like the comparison, but it’s close. The big difference though is that no one is going to go fight it out. Associations are all carrot and no stick, so in order to be effective it has to be a really good carrot.”

Angel nodded. “I think I get it. If it’s too easy to get into an association, or I suppose to get all the benefits of being in one, then you don’t have much incentive to behave.”

“Yeah, exactly, they aren’t called Standing Associations for nothing. You’ve gotta stick with them long enough to prove you’re invested in society.”

“So does that mean they’ve got you scrubbing toilets or whatever to start?”

Mae laughed. “Well, it depends on the association. They’ve all got their own little quirks and idiosyncrasies in their on-boarding process, though actually, if you’re interested in becoming an associate, I’d suggest a Staking Association instead. You get a lot more flexibility at a much better price, and the only catch is there’s more stuff you have to handle yourself.”

“Staking?”

“Yeah, basically it takes ‘invested in society’ literally. You can think of it like a bank. Rather than relying on an association’s perks to keep you accountable, a Staking Association has some of your assets under their management.”

“And that’s their leverage over you?”

Mae laughed. “I wouldn’t put it like that, and it’s a little simplified, but that’s not unfair. Technically it’s proof of your willingness and ability to make good on your word, or provide restitution in the event your actions harm someone or their property.”

“So it’s another variant on that ‘take responsibility’ thing?” Angel said.

“You’re catching on fast.” Mae smiled. “Once you get the core idea, I think the rest of it is pretty intuitive.”

“How does it work in practice? Like, if you hurt someone, they get your money?”

“Not usually?” Mae said. “Admittedly, I haven’t checked the terms for every association out there, but in mine, at least, the assets are always technically yours, but you get a lien against them until your debt is paid. The nice thing is they use productive assets, so if shit goes totally sideways your stake will pay off the debt eventually. It stops a mistake from fucking you over, and keeps people invested in society even if they’ve hit a rough patch.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s a rich person thing though?”

Mae smiled. “That’s what’s so brilliant. A Staking Association thinks like a bank, and sure, they’d love people to give them vast fortunes to hold onto, but the wealthy prefer to manage their own assets, or can at least get a better rate elsewhere. For someone with nothing though, the promise of a relatively small stake can be tremendously motivating.”

Angel thought a few seconds, then said, “How does that work exactly?”

Mae hummed, then said, “The specifics vary between associations, but as an example, one might offer new customers ten percent of the stake required by an employer, plus a willingness to treat you as if you had the full stake, on the condition you make regular contributions to your assets under their management, up to the point you had a full stake with the company.”

“You mean they just give people money?” Angel said. “Like charity?”

Mae laughed. “No, and don’t let those snakes trick you otherwise. They make good money, pretending it’s out of the kindness of their hearts is pure marketing. Loyal customers are very profitable, and great advertising.”

“They make money… by giving people money?”

“It’s quite clever,” Mae said. “To understand, you have to remember they profit from assets under management. They ‘give’ you that ten percent at the beginning, but until you’re fully staked, they keep most if not all of the interest from it. The only real upfront cost is the small chance a new customer fucks up, and then bails on restitution, but most people will want to stick around to keep working towards their stake, and can’t cause much damage in the first place.”

Angel thought it over a moment, then lit up. “Oh! I get it. If they’re offering ten percent, by the time you’re done they’ll have ten times as much money.”

“Exactly! And afterwards there’s a good chance you’ll stick with them, thanks to all that goodwill they built up, so if you never bail on a claim against you, it’s pure profit. It’s a disgusting racket,” Mae finished with a smile.

Angel chuckled. “I can’t tell if you admire or resent them.”

“Oh, they’re great, I’m just jealous as hell, except for the part where the association industry is fucking savage.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t handle the anxiety, I’d shrivel up in a week.”

“There’s clearly nothing like the mercenary life to ward off those stress wrinkles,” Angel said. Mae laughed, and when she settled, Angel continued. “That does bring up another question, though. How do you guys handle, like security, and stuff. I mean, do you have police?”

“You mean a gang of blue clad jerks marching around telling you what to do?” Mae said playfully. Angel didn’t dignify the question with anything more than an eye roll, and Mae continued. “But not really, except in a very broad and general sense, and even then, not really. Technically, every associate is responsible for their own safety, though in practice most everyone hires some firm instead, directly or indirectly.”

“How do you mean?”

“For instance, if you rent an apartment you’d be hard pressed to find one that doesn’t have a contract with a security company, and any kind of commercial building will have one, and… honestly, I can’t think of a lot of people who don’t. I suppose if you’re a hermit in the woods you’ll own a gun, but asides from that, specialization is great.”

“Is… is it scary out there?” Angel said.

Mae smiled and patted her head. “Honestly, it’s boring. Violence is an expensive hassle, so associates tend to be very peaceful.”

“Ah…. I guess that explains why you’re a mercenary.”

“Actually, I used to be in dispute resolution, but I… uh….” Mae gestured vaguely and sighed. “Well, I fucked that up too.”

“I… I don’t think you’re doing a bad job here.”

“Thanks, though I doubt Solver HQ will be so generous,” Mae said. Angel let out a big yawn. “Anyway, there’s plenty of road in front of us, so why don’t we make room over there next to Arte and get some sleep.”

Angel looked at the cramped space and blushed. Before she could object, Mae pulled her along by the hand. They squished Arte to the side, then squeezed into the narrow space. Angel passed out within seconds of laying her head on a pile of rags.