"Remind me," Blue Eyes said, rousing himself from deep thought. "What was the payment we agreed upon?"
Clara considered embellishing the price promised, but it was an old habit, admittedly a little childish. "We're on your tab for the mission; that's fuel, supplies and ammunition. And fifty spikes for payment."
Blue Eyes nodded.
"Also, we want to use your AMC again to calibrate Andy's Augmentation. Oh, plus Andy wants to take a peek in your armoury."
"That's how I remember it. I am happy to oblige," Blue Eyes said.
"And one more thing," Clara said.
Blue Eyes tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, which rose underneath the rim of his trilby.
"Five minutes of your time."
"Ten for being so lovely," Blue Eyes said. "Fifteen if you share a drink with me."
Clara's heart beat a little faster, but she didn't let it waver her; she knew his flirting was just a ploy. "It will only take five."
The older man was silent, his eyes like spotlights, basking her in his attention.
"We want better work," Clara said. She had thought of more tactful ways to phrase it on the journey over here, but when it came to it, simplicity was the best. "We're not that challenged by mutants, or killer cattle, or crab people. The mothman you had us chasing a few months ago turned out to just be a guy in a costume, not an apocalypse at all, just some crazy guy stealing from farms. We don't want trivial work. We don't want to travel the same roads with trade caravans every summer. This job with the mutants," Clara motioned to the gruesome images on the monitor, "It proves our worth. You said it yourself. Four teams, and we're the first ones back with the mission done. We deserve better work. More like this, and more."
Blue Eyes finished his cigarette, twisting the butt in the ashtray. "How skilled is he, your partner? How reliable is he?"
"I trust him with my life."
"And should I trust him with my enterprise?"
Clara paused. "We work as a team. What you can trust me with, you can trust him with as well."
Blue Eyes leaned over his desk. "What's to stop him from disobeying you, or betraying you?"
Clara scowled.
"Excuse my forwardness," Blue Eyes said. "I must ask these questions now so that I'm not disappointed later."
"Andy would never betray me." The words tasted like she'd bitten into a rotten apple.
"He has been Augmented for… how long?"
Clara considered a lie, as the truth was somewhat embarrassing. Andy had been Augmented for six years, yet in that time, his abilities had developed very little. Clara had thought it was normal until she bumped into an Augmented bounty hunter at a bar three years ago–a Sonic Specialist archetype–whose abilities had advanced three or four tiers in as many years. He had developed a plethora of weapons and utilities, all contained within his modified genetic code. The man himself had appeared detached, if a little depressed, removed from the world of man and placed into something else.
But Andy was already removed. He was insane. If he improved his abilities, it could only benefit them both—advance their career as mercenaries—yet his unwillingness to practice his aim and calibrate his powers at an AMC stunted him. The fact that, after six years, his AI had installed only one new ability said worse than Clara wanted to admit.
"A long time," she said. "However, for years we didn't know what it was. We didn't know about the Augmentation Master Consoles and calibrating abilities and delineations and archetypes. There was no pamphlet that came with the serum. Honestly, I'm still learning. But he's good with what he's got."
Blue Eyes nodded. "Six years. We have his records from when you last calibrated with us…" He flicked through a terminal on his desk, raising his eyebrows. "In spring. Why the wait?"
"I'm going to be honest," Clara said. "He's unmotivated. Our career is stale. We need something to push us, a challenge. Give us something, you won't be disappointed."
Clara held Blue Eyes' gaze, she did not waver before the sharpness of his eyes, did not bow her head as her heartbeat rose, and kept her hands—sweaty as they were—firmly by her side.
"There is something," Blue Eyes conceded, raising his glass to his serving boy for a refill. "I am sending a relief party to Marsay city. Some of my men are doing important work there. Classified. Yet lady luck has not smiled generously upon them. They have been waylaid by… it still feels strange to say this, but zombies. They've stopped returning my calls." He sipped his whiskey. "Does that sound like something in your expertise?"
"Yes." Clara didn't hesitate. "What zombies?"
"My reports are mixed, aren't they, Theador?"
The tailor was still busy brushing suits; he seemed to savour the task. "Very mixed, sir."
"Some folks claim that the undead are docile things, men and women without souls, holding to the shadows, lamenting their long-departed humanity. However, others have sworn to have been chased down and attacked by large groups of them. Theador will send you the specifics."
Clara opened her terminal for communications and accepted the tailor's download. "What about the surrounding apocalypse zones and the route there?"
"There will be a briefing later today. I trust you can be ready to depart swiftly in the morning." Blue Eyes rose from his desk and turned to face the window. "I have hired two teams already. You will meet with them tonight, and one of my seniors will explain the details."
Two other teams. Clara's heart sank. "That… complicates things."
"How so?" Blue Eyes said without turning.
"Andy and I work better alone."
"Your partner doesn't play nice with others?"
"He…" Clara hesitated. "The likelihood of mission success is much higher if we work alone. We'll be more discreet that way."
"Discretion may be necessary," Blue Eyes said, "But so might force. You'll find out once you are there."
Clara chewed her lip. She could agree to the terms, then separate from the other mercs once they got started. Besides, the option of backup might come in handy.
"Sis," Andy's voice buzzed over her radio. "You there?"
Clara unfastened the receiver and returned, "Over."
"Before you freak out, I've got this under control." Andy's voice crackled louder than it should have over the distance of the transmission. Was the signal in Quadra really that bad?
"Got what under control?" Clara lowered her voice and pressed her mouth into the microphone, turning down the speaker volume.
"Remember those blokes who jacked our wheels last summer, left us stranded?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I asked them for our wheels back."
Clara bolted out of her seat, startling the guards by the door, who reached for their concealed weapons. Clara raised her arms in the air non-threateningly. "I need to go."
"Oh?" Blue Eyes said. "Shall we see you in the evening?"
"Yes."
"Theador will see you out."
"I'm okay," Clara said, striding through the oak door. She paced down the corridor briskly, waiting until she was out of sight before breaking into a run. Jumping down the stairs, darting through the reception area and outside, Clara could hear the distant thud of gunfire. "Where are you?" she radioed.
"Around the side of Lackeys," Andy said. "Had to make a little retreat. Turns out—" The transmission ended, punctuated by gunfire.