"How many of us are there?" Andrei inquires, plugging in the LEDs. They blink a few times before remaining on in a steady, blue-white glow. "Because I'm afraid if you're a lone defender, you're just ensuring there will be two people with their kneecaps broken. No offense to your combat skills, of course.

"And I do hope they'll leave store windows alone -- not that I've gotten around to replacing the glass in ours yet..."

Enyart's isn't a usual target for violence, thanks to the owner's careful policy of never talking to the cops or choosing favorites between the local gangs, but that doesn't save them from nuisance vandalism. Or petty theft, for that matter. For the past half-year, the front window has been a sheet of plywood with a holographic open/closed sign nailed to it.

Andrei hangs the battery pack from a rusty nail driven into the side of the balcony and crosses his arms on the railing, resting his chin on them as he looks up at Cal.

"In short, if you're running around out there, you need company."