Steal the Demon: A Science-Fiction Novella by Robert Roth (free novels to read txt) 📕

Kimiko turned around and opened it to reveal the eager face of the sales clerk. They excitedly looked her up and down. “You look marvelous. Your agent’s measurements were perfect. I can hardly believe it.”

She deactivated the helmet with a thought, and it swiftly collapsed and disappeared back down into the collar ring. “Will wonders never cease? Can you package this up for me?”

“Of course,” they answered, affably. “Just let me know when you’ve changed back into your clothing.”

Deactivating the suit was a breeze, although watching it disappear back into the harness gave her a moment’s pause. It took a little longer to get out of the bodysuit than to get into it, and putting on the clothes she wore when she’d come in afterward felt a little disappointing. But once she was sorted, she went back out onto the main sales floor and nodded to the clerk. They quickly disappeared into the fitting room to gather her new things. While she waited, she browsed some odds and ends set up near the sales counter. Most of it was garish and impractical–surprising considering the shop’s name. But a gorgeous, black, ceramic-composite knife caught her eye. It was a Nishimura Kanko, one of the finest quality blades on the open market. The ceramic was a proprietary composite, known for being light and nearly indestructible. But its top-selling point was its mono-molecular knife’s edge, which would cut through pretty much anything. It had a 15 cm blade–shorter than the tanto she’d trained on with Uncle Shinzo, but still long enough to be considered a combat knife. The grip would code to the owner’s biometrics or internal system, depending on their preference. It would also provide a nasty shock to anyone else who picked it up, courtesy of the built-in Ceresium micro-capacitor. The accompanying sheath stored the blade inside a mag-field, which kept the edge sharpened, and prevented it from cutting through the sheath.

“You have excellent taste, Mx. Yanaka,” gushed the clerk, noticing where her attention lay as they returned to the counter. “The Nishimura is a fine blade. And your suit can easily accommodate the sheath kit.”

There was no price displayed, of course. She was definitely in the kind of shop where, if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford it. And after complaining to herself about how expensive her drink in the bar was, it felt a little ridiculous to even consider it. But she couldn’t deny that she was. “There’s nothing quite like a Nishimura, is there?”

The clerk laughed politely. “We have several in stock at the moment. I can add one to your account if you like.”

Her account? Of course. It wasn’t like she was paying for the flight suit, either. She may as well have Paradox steal the knife for her, too. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Very good.”

The clerk disappeared from view again. Then, after a short wait, they returned with everything they’d packaged, handing it back to her inside of a matching sling bag that came with the suit. It also came with a custom, pre-filled air tank, a lifetime warranty, free adjustments at any Practical Utility shop or contractor when necessary, and free software upgrades for the life of the suit. After she turned down their request to sign up for the store’s insider marketing program, the clerk gave her their profuse thanks for her purchase, and she was on her way.

Walking out into the retail concourse, the gear bag slung over her shoulder, she felt as if all eyes were on her. Kimiko was glad she’d chosen to wear her own clothing. Walking around in the Kuījiǎ gear would only draw more attention from those who knew what it was or, at least, knew what it probably cost. Hell, she didn’t even know the actual cost. For all she knew, she could probably sell it all and live comfortably off of the proceeds for several months. Even the gear bag felt a little ostentatious, despite not being emblazoned with flashy graphics or logos like a lot of mid to high-end equipment tended to be. It was enough just to be carrying a Kuījiǎ, and the joes who recognized it would know it for what it was.

Her accommodations were one level down from the retail concourse, accessible by lift or stairs. Kimiko chose the stairs, since the lifts looked busy and it wasn’t very far down. The stairwell was empty. Most joes didn’t bother with them, and some, she imagined, didn’t even know they existed. The accommodations level was also quiet, if not totally empty. Banks of temporary lodging compartments branched off the main corridor in narrow passages as a no-frills alternative to the fancy corporate hotels on other station levels. They were much cheaper, too, and Kimiko wasn’t about to blow her remaining creds on some fluffy towels and turn down service.

She walked down the main corridor until she found the passageway where her compartment was located. Once she reached her door, Kimiko swiped her wrist ID over the input pad to unlock the sliding hatch. It slid open as soon as she was identified as the registered occupant, and she stepped inside.

Setting herself up as Kimiko Yanaka had been easy enough, with just a quick trip to a fixer she knew inside the CDB. After paying them a small fee, they’d created her new persona in the CDB system. As Paradox had mentioned, the legend was thin and would undoubtedly break under more than the barest scrutiny, but it worked well enough for her to get along with for the time being. And renting the compartment hadn’t raised any red flags.

Calling the space minimal would’ve been generous. There was just enough room inside for the single bed slab, a small storage locker, and a tiny head with the usual toilet/sink combo. She turned on the light and set her new gear down onto the bed slab. Then she dug into the gear bag, and took out her new knife. When she grabbed the handle,