Working Stiff

woman involved,” he said. “You’re not the only man to forget to watch his back under those circumstances.”

“It’s not about that.”

“It’s always about that, and if you don’t think it is, you’re lying to yourself.” Manny sent her another fast, scorching glance. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s an asset. And you’re making me wish I’d never come here, because you’re embarrassing me.”

“Then we’re even, because I wish you hadn’t come here either.”

“Manny, come on. What’s got the bug up your ass?”

“Nothing.” Manny peered through a microscope and made some notes on a pad off to the side. “I’ve got business to do. Clients who need help.”

“I’m paying.”

“Damn right, you’re paying. If Pharmadene knows I’m playing in their sandbox, they’re not just going to send me a cease-and-desist letter, you know. They kill people. I’ve got Pansy to think about.”

Pansy, who was gathering up used coffee cups that were scattered around the area, rolled her eyes, which made Bryn smile, even as she felt a twinge of uneasiness. Safety was obviously a very big concern for Manny Glickman. Bryn had met paranoid people before, but never anybody quite that far gone who wasn’t under serious medication, in a locked-down facility. She had no idea what McCallister saw in this weirdo, or why he was expecting Manny, of all people, to be their ace in the hole.

“I need this from you,” McCallister said. He took a step forward, grabbed Manny by the shoulder, and spun him around. Manny was taller, but in that moment, McCallister simply dominated the room, just by the intensity. “And you owe me.”

“So you’re finally going there.”

“I will if I have to.”

Manny stared down at him, eyes half-shut, and then nodded once, sharply. “I don’t care how much I owe you; I took one hell of a risk even messing with this stuff for you. If you want the results, you’ve got to pay me for that.”

“Ballpark me.”

“It took weeks, you know. Your Pharmadene bioengineers are really good.”

“Get to the point.”

“All right. A hundred thousand for the single-shot prototype. To set up any kind of an actual production line for quantity, I’m going to need expensive equipment and raw materials. A hundred thousand more, minimum. Not including my fees, which will be twenty-five to start.”

“Jesus, Manny. I thought you owed me.”

“I do,” Manny said. “Which is why I agreed to fuck around with your Pharmadene zombie drug in the first place. I’m giving you the friend rate, but I don’t give freebies. Ever. You want me, you pay me. You know that.”

McCallister hesitated a bare second before he said, “I’m going to need to see the prototype in action before I jump into that kind of money. I’m not—”

“I know how much you’ve got in the bank, Pat. Don‘t kid a kidder. You may not have access to the trust, but you don’t do so badly for yourself. Couple of hundred thou won’t break you.”

McCallister stared at him for a long, long moment, then nodded sharply, once. “It had better work.”

Manny shrugged. “It’s science, man. We fail before we succeed. I don’t guarantee anything.”

Well, that was comforting.

Pansy touched Bryn’s arm, making her jump, and said, “Come with me. You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

It’s just an IV, Bryn told herself, as she watched the clear fluid drip slowly from the bag into the flexible tubing. Just saline.

It wasn’t just saline, and it was going into her veins, and that scared her so much her mouth felt dry. The shots, at least, were fast, over before she could really think about the implications. But sitting here like this as Manny’s prototype whispered into her veins, that was something else entirely.

“So,” she said, to take her mind off of things, “how long have you been working on this?”

Manny didn’t seem to hear her, but he finally answered as he scratched down notes in a chart, referring to the machines she was hooked up to. “McCallister brought me a sample of Pharmadene’s drug when it was first started in trials,” he said. “He wanted to know the potential for abuse. I told him there was nothing but potential for abuse. So technically, I suppose almost a year since I started taking the thing apart.”

“And this is … an antidote?”

“For what, death?”

“Manny!” Pansy called from the next room. “Behave.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. He didn’t sound sorry. “As far as I can tell, your condition isn’t fixable by any medical means. The drug maintains you. It doesn’t bring you back to life, just supports your vital functions. If I wanted to get poetic, I’d say it replaces your soul.”

That was … uncomfortable. Bryn looked at the needle going into her arm. “So what exactly does this thing do?”

“No pain at the entry site?” Manny asked. It wasn’t that he sounded concerned, really, just inquisitive. All this was an intellectual problem for him.

Life and death, for her. Or whatever passed for life these days.

“It’s fine,” she said, and dry-swallowed. “I’m really thirsty.”

“Yeah, that’s a side effect,” he said, and poured some water from a carafe nearby. He handed it over, and she gulped it down in three convulsive swallows. “Not too much. You’ll vomit.”

Comforting. She leaned her head back against the leather headrest and studied the ceiling girders high above. “I can’t believe that I’m taking experimental IV drugs from some guy who bunkers himself in a warehouse.”

“You left out paranoid. A paranoid guy who bunkers himself in a warehouse.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“Don’t waste it on me; I mostly don’t notice. Or care.”

“Do you have any qualifications?”

“Why, would it matter now? The IV’s already in. If you wanted to see my Johns Hopkins certificate, you should have asked before.”

“Do you have one?”

He shrugged. “Somewhere.”

She eyed him curiously and wondered what his story was, but mostly what she was concerned with was what the hell was going into her body. Slowly. To no apparent effect. “I repeat—what the hell is this stuff?”

“If I tell you it could prejudice the trial,” he said. “Just tell me if you feel anything.”

“Anything like what? Because I’m feeling pretty damn unnerved right now!”

Manny, unruffled, checked his watch and the level on the bag above his head, then stood up and went to the door. “You can test it now; the solution should be filtered throughout her system.”

“Try what?” she asked, feeling ridiculously exposed, as if they’d left her naked and defenseless. “Uh, could someone please explain anything to me?”

McCallister stepped into the room, shut the door behind him, and exchanged a look with Manny before he said, “How are you feeling, Bryn?”

“Pissed off,” she said. Her voice was shaking, and she was breathing faster than she should have been. The urge to rip the needle out of her vein was almost irresistible. “Terrified. How’s your day?”

“Interesting.” McCallister pulled up a stool across from her and said, “Your pupils are a little wide.”

“Probably because whatever’s in this stuff is making me high, but not in a fun way.” She swallowed hard and lowered her voice. “I’m scared.“

“I know.” He leaned forward and studied her for another few seconds before he said, “What color underwear do you have on?”

“What?” She blinked at him, and felt a surge of heat in her face. God, she hated blushing. “None of your business!”