the smuggler’s bible


Light moves fast through cyberspace, and information clings to it like a shroud. Juliet follows the hissing signal to a dark corner and punches the ignition on a scraper that’ll keep the conversation private. For a little while.

“Why are they so pissed off? What did I take?”

The broker laughs. “Pissed off? At you? They don’t give a fuck about you. They’re shitting their pants. You’re nothing. You’re Gollum with the ring—a backward hilljack who has a nuclear bomb in her pocket.”

“Oh, my god,” he says when Juliet doesn’t respond. “Oh, my god. You already used it.”