Ro (A Cyberpunk Retelling of Romeo and Juliet)

9

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly."

***

RO MONTAGUE

"The masquerade is celebrating the lottery night. That's what I managed to gather when I snuck into the north sectors." I slide my cards across the touch-pad we'd set on the kitchen table. Officer Mercy and Benny, her young and impressionable partner that she's training, play across from me. Benny's a good kid, little wet around the ears. Brunette with a tight buzzcut and deep-set eyes. He reminds me of the law's typical kind of puppy, really. All bark, and no balls. Typical of southern New Verona cops, what with the mortality rate being so high and the age of death so horrifically young.

The touch pad fizzes out, ending our impromptu game. We get older tech in these districts, almost damned ancient, really. I lean back while Mercy sighs in relief. She was losing credits, anyways. "You snuck into the north sectors?" Mercy's sleeve rolls up, revealing a drug patch on her arm. Damn, hope she was sober, for her sake. The higher-ups, most from the north, don't really appreciate second chances. "Didn't get caught?"

I wink. "I took a shower and wore my Samhain best. What? Can't I pass for a fine, upstanding New Verona type?" When Benny shoots me a judgmental look, I break. "Fine, I stuck to the side streets."

Mercy chews on her lower lip. "You see the boss's warning speech, Prince's?"

I nod, swallowing my anger. Lifetime imprisonment, sure. Maybe for a cozy-rich Capulet. For a Montague? We'd get a lifetime of torture at the hands of sadistic prison guards.

Benny sighs, stuffing some arepas, or bean-filling corn flour cakes, into his mouth. I'd helped Gran Viviana gather ingredients, but she didn't want me touching the food. Said my hands were "stained". I'd washed them, but I had a feeling that wasn't what she was talking about. Between bites, the kid talks. Okay, so he's about my age at nineteen while I'm twenty and Mercy's twenty-two. But, again, he acts younger because he's the law's bubble-bound puppy. I'm just a street mutt. "Everyone's going to be at that masquerade to get a shot at the northern sectors of New Verona. To win the lottery, you know? There's the rich barber on Fleet, the piracy advocates, some missionary priestesses vying to get out of this shithole, not to mention Rosaiah's back on the prowl..."

Mercy smacks Benny on the back of the head, so hard the arepa he was chewing flies back onto the table. But the damage is done.

"Rosaiah?" I keep my voice calm, feigning a cool and collected interest. Like I'd never heard his name before, or I forgot about it. "How did Rosaiah score an invite to the Capulet masquerade when he should be in prison?"

Mercy casts a death glare at Benny while she talks in an equally slow and measured tone. "He sold info out to Prince. Info that got both you and the Caps in trouble. Hence, Prince's warning to keep the peace or else." She massages a knot at the back of her neck, red hair falling in front of her stormy eyes. "Sorry, Ro. He complied with the law, the hypocrite bastard, and he was given a slap on the wrist for it instead of prison."

"But the invitation to the Cap's masquerade. How did he get it?"

Benny chatters happily as he eats more of the arepas and polishes it off with a glass of powdered milk. "That's easy!" He laughs. "He paid a hacker."

"Well then," I slam my fist into the tablet. The card game comes back to life, dispensing credits to my monitor ring. I grin as my Eye-Lens displays my winnings. Enough to bribe a hacker with. "Mr. Rosaline's going to have to save a dance for me, won't he?"