Nervously, she shifted the strap of her shoulder bag to a more comfortable position. Calling in some favors and borrowing a few hundred nuyen from an elf shyster whom she occasionally cleared of municipal tax problems, Laura . . . Silver had been able to parlay her old obsolete deck into a hot Fuchi 8. Not a Fairlight by any means, or even a Fuchi 9, but then, she wasn’t one of Babbet’s Bastards, the rogue gang of wildhoop deckers who cut more IC everyday than a professional figure skater. An eight would do fine.