Tanya paced up and down the shop, her boots tapping dull rhythms against the old wooden floor. Every few seconds, she checked the front window, half-expecting a shadow to loom across it, even though she'd see someone coming on the map tattoo on her wrist.

The first visitor was Mrs Eceer, who was surprised to see Tanya up during her 6 a.m. cup of tea. She'd given Tanya a disapproving squint and said that all the back-and-forth was making her seasick. Tanya had mumbled an apology and retreated to the back room to pace instead. Mrs Eceer had headed off to the Wards, promising that she'd keep an eye out for trouble.

Marcy came in next, pale as milk, clutching the radio tower plans so tight they crinkled. Once she'd checked her gear twice, then a third time, she sat in one of the sofa chairs and studied the plans obsessively. Tanya kept pacing past her; each time, Marcy's eyes flicked up, jittery.

Tanya saw Olena coming on her map, but when the door swung open, she still jolted hard enough that her shoulder hit a shelf.

"Hello all!" Olena called into the room.

Tanya's legs nearly gave out. Marcy exhaled loudly, like she'd been punched.

"Hey Olena," Tanya said, voice thinner than she intended.

"Hmph. Don't look so happy to see me then, eh?" Olena laughed as she swept inside, scarf trailing like a cape. "What the long faces for?"

"We're waiting for Adder," Tanya said. She stopped pacing, but only because her legs suddenly remembered how to shake instead. "Today we have a deal to make."

"OooOoo, spooky. He's the big snake man, yes?"

Tanya and Marcy both nodded. Marcy clutched the plans a little tighter.

Olena looked between them, her eyes narrowing in exaggerated judgment. "I would ask question, but you both look like you will get your breakfast all over my nice wooden floor if I do, so I will talk about me instead."

She marched to the centre of the room and dramatically fell onto an armchair. It rocked back dangerously. Marcy squeaked. Olena sucked in a deep breath, lifted a hand to her forehead like an old-world actress.

"Life suck and everything bad!" Olena cried.

Tanya felt her mouth tug into a smile despite everything. "What's up?"

"I am so close to finish mech suit, but my bestest friend in whole world can't find time to give me tattoos." Olena batted her eyelashes at Tanya with aggressive innocence.

"Oh, so that's what this is about."

Olena sniffled loudly. "Oh no. I understand. Poor little Olena, not as important as big gang or horrible people-eating alien invasion. I must sit in corner and wait my turn. I know all about waiting as second-class citizen, you know. Poor little immigrant Olena." She grabbed a blanket off the back of the chair, wrapped herself dramatically, and dabbed an imaginary tear.

Marcy let out a tiny, confused laugh. Tanya covered her face with a hand.

"Alright, alright. Olena, I get it. I should be able to do yours today, actually."

"WHAT REALLY?" Olena shot upright so fast the blanket fell like a toppled ghost.

"Even with doing one for Adder?" Marcy asked, frowning at Tanya with rising alarm.

Olena shook her head and tutted loudly. "Evil gang boss get two before best friend Olena get one. World unfair."

Tanya swatted at her arm. "With these new Vitality stores, I've doubled what I used to have. I think half my Attributes is a fair trade for Adder's sound guy for the day, so I should have the other half free for you."

Olena clapped her hands, practically vibrating. "It's a date!"

Tanya couldn't help herself. "What sort of design you thinkin'?"

Olena mimed zipping her lips. "That would be telling! I will prepare mech suit for big reveal. Should I bring here or you come to garage?"

Tanya eyed the doorway. Even with the changes they'd made to it, it had that central London thinness. "Will this mech suit fit in here without destroyin' the entryway or harmin' anyone?"

Olena walked over to the doorway, reached up with both hands as though measuring, then turned back with a solemn nod. "Garage it is!"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She skipped to Tanya, kissed both her cheeks, then practically pranced out of the shop again.

"You don't show by 3 p.m. and I will have to resort to other methods!" Olena called as she disappeared down the street.

Marcy stared after her. "Is she joking?"

"Probably," Tanya said, though she wasn't entirely sure.

The shop fell quiet again—the kind of quiet that felt padded, like it was trying too hard to pretend nothing was about to happen. Tanya wiped her palms on her jeans for what felt like the tenth time.

This was wasting time. She should keep busy. Tanya wracked her brain for something to do. What tattoos had she been putting off? She didn't want to make something too Attribute intensive, nor involve anyone else. That would be too complicated when Adder later entered.

Flicking through her notebook, she looked at all kinds of ideas. Then she paused on a recent page. A little margin note, a half-formed diagram.

Mental barrier—no telepathic read. Design pending.

And beside it, underlined twice:

Promise after Salvatore. Must protect thoughts. Fuck him.

She rubbed her temple. She'd sworn to shield her mind, and a literal telepath coming to the shop today was as good a time as any.

Mind-reading prevention. What was the best symbol? What actually blocked intrusive sensing in the real world? She drummed her fingers. Helmets… encryption keys… noise generators…

Somewhere in this new brainstorming exercise, Tanya felt her mind fully wander away from Adder for the first time all morning.

Thinking of mind-reading brought her back to one of those grainy retro sci-fi films she and her dad used to watch on rainy afternoons. Aliens with big rubber foreheads, glowing mind beams, the whole lot. She remembered how he'd pause the movie halfway through, tear sheets of foil from the kitchen roll, and crown them both with ridiculous, pointy little hats. "There—now they can't read our thoughts, kiddo." They'd sit back on the couch, foil crinkling every time they shifted, laughing like idiots but feeling—stupidly—sealed up and safe.

Tanya snorted. "No way."

Marcy jumped. "Huh?"

"What do you think of when you think of preventing mind reading, Marcy?"

"A tinfoil hat? Why?"

She tried to think of something more dignified. A locked safe? A vault door? A maze? But none of them were perfect. None of them were instantly recognisable as 'you're not getting in my head.'

Her gaze slipped back to the doodle. The universal, absolute symbol of no mind-reading allowed.

A tinfoil hat.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "God. I can't argue with it, can I? It's perfect."

"You're doing a tinfoil hat tattoo?" Marcy said, bewildered.

"Just wait."

Tanya pulled a fresh page toward her and began refining the design. Not literal tinfoil—not cheap kitchen-roll aesthetics—but a clean, stylised icon: interlocking crinkled planes forming a sharp, geometric cap, the "foil" rendered as folded circuit plating, each ridge perfect for channelling counter-signals.

When she opened her interface, she set up the Efficiency percentage she'd used last time. For this one, she wanted something slightly different. She tried 'Barrier Efficiency'

Scan: [Storage Efficiency: 93%]

Decision now fully made, she prepped her smallest needle and set up at her workstation. No feeling stupid could fight 93%. She guessed it was a mixture of the strength of memory and how targeted the item was.

This wouldn't take much Vitality, she could already tell, which made it perfect for now. She positioned her forearm under the lamp, took a steady breath, and began.

The machine buzzed softly, a gentle, comforting sound she'd lived most of her life beside. Line by line, curve by curve, she inked the little geometric tinfoil-hat symbol on the inside of her wrist, small enough to hide under bracelets or sleeves.

By the end, Marcy was sitting beside her, watching each new stroke of ink.

"It's kind of therapeutic when it's not me," Marcy said.

What used to feel like a cat scratch on a sunburn was now more like a fingernail pressing too hard. "It's more relaxin' than it used to be, that's for sure."

Tanya did the final line and the tattoo pulsed once, silver-white, and settled.

"Moment of truth," she murmured.

She focused on the design.

A papery shimmer of Vitality flickered into being above her palm—then solidified into the construct: a tiny, floating silver hat made of overlapping metal-foil plates. Light bounced off its crinkles like it was perpetually mid-rustle.

She couldn't help it. She cracked up.

"Oh, this is ridiculous."

Ridiculous or not, she plucked it from the air. It was weightless but felt… firm. Purposeful. The moment she settled it on her head, a faint warmth bloomed behind her eyes, like closing a heavy door with a very satisfying thunk. Noise dampened. Her thoughts felt tucked away, insulated.

She grabbed her normal hat from the rack, soft black wool, fraying at the edges, and settled it on top, hiding the shimmering construct beneath.

"There," she said, adjusting the brim. "Good luck getting in now, telepath."

"Wait, what? They're going to read my mind?" Marcy said, panicked.

"Uh, just don't get too close or think of anythin' too important?"

Marcy crumpled back into the seat. "Telling someone not to think about something is the worst advice."

Then she felt the shift. A faint pressure under the skin of her other arm, like gravity tugging sideways. Someone had entered the map on her wrist. She lifted her arm, heart thumping hard enough she felt it in her ears.

Three figures were moving toward the shop. No colour labels. Not anyone she knew.

And they'd gotten past Mrs Eceer.

That only left one likely possibility.

Adder was here.

"That's him, isn't it?" Marcy whispered.

Tanya's mouth went dry. Her pulse throbbed against her tongue. She forced her shoulders back, shaking the tension out of her hands like she was about to perform surgery instead of survive a negotiation.

"Yeah," Tanya said quietly. "That's him."

Marcy swallowed, the sound loud in the still air.

"If it all goes to shit," Tanya said, turning to meet her eyes, "run to get Mrs Eceer, yeah?"

Marcy went even paler, but she nodded.

"It's okay," Tanya added, softer. She put a hand on Marcy's arm, steadying both of them. "All you have to do is stand there and answer any direct questions. It'll mostly be between me and Adder."

Figures passed across the holes in the battlements. Heavy steps. More than one set.

Tanya drew in a slow breath. She waited for whatever fate was about to walk through her door.

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