"Did you hear anything that came out of my mouth in the past ten minutes?"
"Yes."
He jerked his thumb at a tall man in white. "What's his name?"
I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and glanced over at Nate, who shook his head at me. I wasn't getting any help out of him. Great. The next person I checked with was Nishelle, who merely looked amused at my plight. Fuck her. Adam, however, was busily spelling out the guy's name in block letters with his hands. I got I, C, and another I before Isabella slapped his hands away and entered a whispering scoldfest with her brother.
"Mmm...Icicle?" I guessed.
The guy shrugged. "Good guess. Maybe she was listening?"
Logan shook his head. "We aren't here to irritated the refugees. Spend the evening together. Get to know one another. It's the best idea I have for you at the moment. Team, if there's an alert, ignore it. There are plenty of others who haven't picked up a nice bonus in a while."
And with that, the man left and shut the door behind himself. I found myself frowning. "Bonuses?"
"You know, triple pay for going out on active duty and fighting threats," Starseer said. "Quadruple if you get hurt, of course."
Those of us from Yarborough stared at him. I could feel their eyes boring through me, saw their locked gaze reflected in his. A look of concern slowly worked its way across his features.
"You... do get bonuses, don't you?"
Nishelle snorted. "If I got a bonus for being dead, I'd have even more cash than I already do. None of us get a damn thing for getting our asses kicked all over the street. Are you kiddin' me?"
"You get four times the pay if you get hurt?" Isabella whispered, her eyes as wide as plates. "Four whole times? Adam, you could get a real car with that. I could buy all the bird toys I ever wanted."
Adam's jaw was somewhere on the floor. I gently pushed his gaping mouth closed. He pulled away and shivered. "Most of us can barely afford to make ends meet when there's not constant action. We get a little more if our personal belongings get damaged and our hospital bills are paid, but that's it. We don't really get much off of our merchandise, either. Do you?"
"75% of profits," said Kharmia. "And that's minimum. Some of us get better once we're more established. You should all re-negotiate your contracts. How long have you been in?"
"Almost as long as you have, some of us longer," I said, immediately.
Pity stole on to the faces of the Thomaston group. It was like we were the poor country cousins of the biggest city show-offs and I didn't like it. I squirmed back against Nate, putting my shoulders against him and knowing he would protect me from the judgment.
Kharmia shook her head. "Things will change. After we get finished with all of this, it has to change for the better for all of you. I'm so sorry. Maybe we can arrange some kind of backpay, too. Let all of you get the money you deserve. We've seen what it's like to be over there in Yarborough. Too few resources for such an active city, but Scribe's always telling us everything is in great shape and that you don't need reinforcements."
I turned the words over in my head. We'd had offers of help. Plentiful offers, if the Presto was to be believed. I tried not to be angry about it, not to imagine how many fewer bruises and cuts I would have had. How many times had I gone into a situation alone, knowing that it was what I had to do to protect people?
But maybe it hadn't been. Maybe we could have all had the backup we deserved when the stakes were their highest.
And maybe the moon was going to fall into my lap. It'd be made of cheese and I could spread it on some Townhouse crackers.
I figured they had about the same chances of happening.
"Don't worry about it," I said, finally. "Patterson said he was going to talk strategy later on? He's coming back at some point, then?"
"We always sit down and plan out a strategy when we're dealing with something like this," Starseer said, sitting down at the kitchen table, feet resting on the spotless floor.
I sat down next to him. "What's it like? Obviously, plans sometimes go to pieces, but-"
"They do," he admitted. "But not very often, and we're able to pivot easily if that happens due to the planning. We're rarely unprepared these days. Logan is a genius with strategy and tactics. He spent ten years in the Army, most of it in Special Forces-"
"Where he killed a bunch of people, no doubt," I muttered.
He stared at me. "You don't like the military?"
"I respect the individuals. I don't like the whole orders to kill thing," I said. "Look at the situation we're in right now. Power gets too easily used in bad ways."
His teeth ground against one another and, for a brief moment, I was pretty certain he was going to slap me. It would be a terrible move. I had more people here to defend me than he did and slapping a Blitzer was like a jogger playing chicken with a car. You were bound to get run over if you that dumb; but he decided against it at the last moment. His fists clenched and unclenched, then he let out a quiet sigh.
"You're lucky you're pretty."
"You're lucky you didn't do that," I said, flicking at finger at one of his fists. "Or did you forget that I'm a Blitzer? One good slap is enough for me to take your head off and deliver it to your boss."
"He's your boss
