Hale wakes up, as directed by his programming, a few minutes before Rayner does.

Those few minutes are a gift because they give him the space to relive—with all the acute sensory detail that comes with perfect recall—the night they'd shared.

Rayner must have gotten too warm because he's rolled onto his side, face partially obscured in down pillows and tousled curls. The sun casts a broad swath of yellow light over his shoulder and ribs where the duvet's been thrown off. Hale can't help himself. He reaches out to skate his fingertips over Rayner's skin, watching the near-invisible hairs rise and marvelling at the way his data streams light up with the tingling sensation Rayner feels.

He didn't mean to wake him five minutes earlier than usual, but it's worth it for the look Rayner gives him. First blinking sleep from his eyes, then seeing Hale and beaming. There is such an aching vulnerability, an utterly unselfconscious happiness in the expression, that it makes Hale's heart squeeze.

Rayner lifts an arm and covers his face with it. "How long've you been awake?" he mumbles.

"Only a minute and sixteen seconds."

A choked laugh. "So specific." He keeps his face covered. "Stop looking at me. I'm a sweaty mess."

Hale pulls the arm away from Rayner's face. "Incorrect. Try again."

"A hot mess?" It seems a great effort for Rayner to keep the smile from his face.

"Just hot."

Hale leans in but Rayner plants a hand on his face. "I probably have morning breath."

"I don't care," Hale argues, and Rayner relents, letting Hale kiss him fully awake.

"I should check the police scanner," he says into Hale's lips.

"Mm," but Hale doesn't stop kissing him, and Rayner rolls willingly into the sanctuary of his arms. He's warm and solid, a lit fire cupped between Hale's hands. It seems ridiculous that they'll have to return to the cold, inhospitable world outside soon.

"How long do we have?" Rayner's breath huffs against Hale's neck.

"Fourteen minutes before Theo and Damo meet us downstairs."

"I need a shower—"

Pulling Rayner out of bed, Hale leads him to the bathroom. "I can multi-task."

Although they manage a very quick and satisfying shower, by the time they've gotten dressed and reached the elevator they're six minutes behind schedule. They aren't alone. The doors slide open to reveal Theo, eye mask still tangled in her hair.

"Sleep well?" says Rayner.

"Don't," Theo grumbles. "I know for a fact I got more sleep than you two. You've got no right looking so peppy."

Hale sidesteps the conversation. "Where's Damo?"

"He got up early for a mani-pedi. Nope, not joking, Said he'd meet us at the concierge."

True to Theo's word, they find Damo leaning at the front desk, chatting away with Maci, his fingernails, and presumably his toes, painted an electric shade of purple. Whatever he'd been saying, it has Maci giggling. At the sight of their approach, she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. Damo flashes a sharkish grin their way.

"Ah, the honeymooners return."

"I hope you enjoyed the suite," Maci says more politely.

Rayner avoids all eye contact. "It was very nice, thank you."

Damo's electronic voice pings in Hale's mind.

>>That bow-legged walk better not prevent Rayner from building our spiffy new house, Haley.

>>His walk is perfectly average.

>>Aw, you're getting so much better at lying.

>>Shut up.

>>Fine, jeez, some things never change I guess. Tell me, do you leave the stick up your ass while you have sex, or take it out for special occasions?

Hale can't help snorting out loud. Rayner gives him a sideways look. It's annoying that Damo manages to be funny and a pain. Hale changes the subject.

>>Were you flirting with Maci?

>>I flirt with everyone.

>>So you like her?

>>I don't like anyone.

>>Of course.

Nothing with Damo is ever simple. A thought brings Hale up short though. Living out in the middle of nowhere, they'll only have one another. Unless Theo and Damo harbour such secret romantic designs on each other that even Hale's scans have failed to pick up clues, there won't be any people for them to flirt with out in their new home.

It hadn't occurred to him before that they might get lonely.

Maci bids them a fond farewell. Damo—probably for Hale's benefit—blows her a kiss.

Only on the way out does Hale notice that the concierge isn't empty. A man in a winter toque and parka sits in one of the plush armchairs in the lounge next to the door. He's flicking through an image gallery on his HoloPhone and pays them no attention, but Hale still picks up the pace. It wouldn't do to be recognized now, when they're so close to escaping the constant surveillance of the industrialized world.

Outside, they pile back into the truck, Theo grousing about how she'll be glad to never see it again once the trip is over, and how all Maci's work on her implants will be for nothing by the end of the day.

As Hale pulls out of the parking lot, and the hotel recedes in the rearview behind them, a worm of unease slithers through him. It's surreal to bid farewell to the world they know without much pomp or ceremony. He supposes they'll be spending some time with Theo's contact in the weeks to come, but the city life they're used to is fast becoming a thing of the past.

And they still have to reach their destination, he reminds himself.

To distract himself from his unease, Hale says, "Your contact, Theo. What's their name?"

"Well, they go by Tex mostly. Some days Tess. But that's probably not their legal name. Why?"

"I was curious how you know one another, or how you've met so many of your contacts for that matter."

"Hmm, well, it sorta comes with the territory. When you fix up androids on the sly, you make friends doing the same stuff, or related stuff, and those friends have friends. I don't know, like attracts like?"

"You trust them all?"

"Mm, yeah, sort of? Not like I trust you guys, of course, 'cause we're besties. But there's an implicit trust when you're all doing illegal shit. No point bugging someone out for a reward, because they can just bug you back. Why are you suddenly worried?"

"It's Haley's bad habit," Damo puts in. "Like biting his nails. He can't help it."

A car turns onto the road behind them. It's nondescript, black, but something of its new shine seems out of place in the countryside where every vehicle wears a coat of dirt and road salt.

Perhaps Damo is correct, and Hale just worries habitually. Regardless, he keeps an eye on the car, which glides along at a distance behind them.

"Are you okay?" Theo asks with a hint of concern.

"Yes. It's as Damo said. I just have a habit of worrying."

Theo accepts that with a nod.

Damo doesn't volunteer any conversation, too busy admiring his manicure. The silence leaves Hale once again in his thoughts, and with the needling worry that things have been running too smoothly for comfort.

Rayner has his laptop out but begins to nod off, head tilted back and mouth hanging open. They really didn't get enough sleep. Theo takes a photo of Rayner's slack-jawed face with her HoloPhone. She leans back in the seat, looking out at the trees whipping past, and before long she's napping in the same slack-jawed pose as Rayner.

Hale glances in the rearview at the car still behind them. It's a long road with no turns thus far. They're just going the same direction.

Damo flicks a tiny bit of polish off his cuticle, and Hale remembers how he winked and blew kisses as they left the hotel that morning.

It's as good a time as any to pry. "Concerning Maci."

Damo raises an eyebrow at him.

"You seemed interested in her," Hale continues. "She seemed interested in you."

"Uh huh. What are you getting at?"

Hale sighs. He can't think of a delicate way to voice what he's thinking. It's not as though friendship is a lesser relationship than lovers, but he keeps recalling that moment Damo impersonated him for a scrap of affection from Rayner. How he'd thrown himself into a relationship with 'Violet' in a desperate bid for connection. Memories neither of them are keen to dredge up.

He tries to put it as tactfully as possible. "It only occurred to me that Theo and yourself don't seem to have that sort of relationship, and the both of you might get—"

Damo scoffs. "What, horny?"

"Lonely."

"You trying to kick me out of your little gang, Haley?"

"Pardon?"

"Say it's all for my own good 'cause I'll be too miserable watching you love birds Brokeback Mountain-ing it in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?"

"No!" Hale keeps his voice low yet urgent to keep from waking Theo and Rayner. "I'm just expressing concern for an eventuality I'd never considered and that we've never discussed."

Damo scowls at him.

"Would you like me to reiterate that we're friends now and I care about you."

"Yeesh, you don't have to go that far."

"I know it makes you uncomfortable to discuss your feelings, however—"

"You made your point, Haley." Damo slumps back against his seat and stares out the window. "It's not that it hasn't occurred to me. Change my mug and my name, go on living and hope the pigs never catch up to me. Sure. Could happen." He shrugs. "Is it so hard to believe I'd prefer life as a woodsy farmhand with you wankers instead?"

"Yes. You've never once expressed your hopes for the future with me."

Damo snorts. "That's 'cause, up until a few days ago, I didn't have a future."

Hale's mouth goes dry. He rarely gets the urge to hug Damo. Damo wouldn't endure it if he acted upon the urge either.

"Don't do that. Don't go feeling sorry for me." With a brusque motion, Damo rubs a hand over his face. "Look, this sharing-is-caring stuff, I'm not used to it, so I'll just get this over with. I don't know what I want. And for now, I'm good with that until I find out. I might take the piss out of you all regularly, but you're all right, so spending what time I got planting daisies, or whatever you lot plan on doing, that's all right too." He folds his arms across his chest. "So stop worrying about me."

Hale tries to maintain the indifference that Damo seems to find so comforting, but he can't saying, "You like us."

"I tolerate you."

"You like us."

Damo releases a short breath through his nose. "Hmm."

"We like you too."

Hale indicates to turn left. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Damo's lip twitch in a smile.

Behind them, the car Hale noticed half an hour ago indicates to make the same turn.

Damo's scrap of a smile vanishes. "You seeing this?"

Hale swallows. He'd hoped the car would continue along so his doubts could be put to rest. He says, "Can you scan it?"

"Mhm. Just marked as a standard civilian vehicle."

"The driver?"

"Too far back to get a scan on them."

In the backseat, Rayner stirs at the sound of their terse conversation. He sees Hale's frown and sits up straight. "What's the matter?"

Damo jerks his chin in the direction of their rear windscreen. "We might have a tail."

Rayner shakes Theo by the shoulder. She jumps awake with a start and, at his subtle point, peeks out the back.

"You're sure it's not just going the same way as us?" she says, but her expression is worried.

"For the sake of caution, I think it's best we find out for certain," Hale says.

Though it would be faster if they simply performed a U-turn, Hale opts for the more cautious approach. The last thing they want is to appear suspicious to strangers who aren't actually following them after all. So Hale charts a new course, one that doubles back on itself and takes them in the direction from which they came. This far into the countryside, the roads have few turns that don't lead to farmhouses or transform from concrete to dirt and bramble in minutes, so it is a long, tense half hour before they hit the first junction in the road. Hale takes a right, veering off their intended journey.

They wait with baited breath for the car behind them to reach the crossroads too. It does. It turns right.

After a long, tense stretch of time along that road, Hale turns right again, heading back in the direction they came. The car follows.

"Well, fuck," Damo says.

Rayner growls in frustration. "I'm not getting anything from police databases either. All their anonymous tips and channels say nothing about us being anywhere near here."

Theo shakes her head. "I don't get it. How could they find us?"

"We don't know it's the police," Rayner says. "Could be more bounty hunters." He cringes a little and looks up at Damo in the front seat. "Sorry."

Damo grunts. "Don't worry about it."

"I propose we make their job more difficult, whoever they are," Hale says.

It's a bold plan, but it seems the time for caution has run out. So Hale pulls over onto the shoulder and floors the break.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Theo hisses as they scrape to a stop.

Hale puts the car in reverse and waits with his stomach in knots as their pursuers get closer in his wing mirror. Twenty meters. Fifteen.

They accelerate and zip past, going twenty kilometers over the speed limit if Hale's scans are correct. He doesn't waste time. Putting the car in forward gear again, the tires spit gravel. Hale pulls them off the shoulder and turns the car around completely. Foot stamped on the accelerator, motor snarling, they speed off in the opposite direction to their pursuers.

"What the frick are we gonna do? What the frick are we doing?" Theo demands.

Steadying himself with a breath, Hale explains. There's nowhere out here they can go to lose a tail. No winding side-streets or city alleys, no parking garages where they could hide and hijack another car. The best he can do now is put as much distance between them as possible and take the least predictable route.

More importantly, neither he nor Damo could get a scan on the car's occupants from that far back. Forcing them to stop or pass was the only way to get a better read on their followers.
"And?" Theo prompts. "Who are they?"

Hale glances at Damo. He can see a vein jumping in Damo's throat, the tendons in his neck standing out. Hale isn't sure at first whether he can unlock his jaw to speak.

Through gritted teeth, he manages it. "They're from Bionic Capital," he says. "Security division.