Brassard stood on shaky legs. A smattering of soldiers switched out their weapons for their handsets and held up their cameras in anticipation. Brassard was so close to shitting himself, it was amazing.
Then he danced. Brassard raised his hands and gyrated his hips as he spun. He hopped from foot to foot, thrusting out his butt to do a backwards scootch. Then he threw a hand back, clasping air and pulling forward to begin the cycle again. His movements were clumsy, and the guy was one giggle away from crying.
Halcyore watched dispassionately. See, this was why it didn’t pay to work for the big corps. Sell your soul and eventually you’d find yourself in front of a tank driven by a naked and insane old man, dancing the unity dance while your own soldiers took video to blast through all the networks.
Myka didn’t look entertained, though. Instead, her brow was furrowed as if she were working through a problem.
She probably was. The me problem. Brassard’s spectacular humiliation had distracted me from the fact that I was not at all in the clear. Sev Tech was effectively out of the picture, but Cadinoff still wanted a piece of my stomach. And Myka had been born with her soul already sold.
Brassard wobbled to a stop, his face bright red. He stared at his feet and waited for Halcyore to pass judgment.
“Needs practice, but I was amused.” Halcyore shrugged.
“Then you won’t banish Sev Tech?”
“No!” Halcyore thumped the tank with a fist. “I just wanted to see you dance! You’re all still banished!” He looked around as if noticing all the soldiers for the first time. “Now go away! I’m bored with you!”
Brassard definitely wanted to argue more, but his better judgment kept him from doing so. Instead, he motioned for his soldiers to withdraw. Their exit was less like a fighting force of soldiers and more like a big party breaking up. Brassard didn’t meet my eyes at all on his way out. Coward.
Halcyore waited until all Sev Tech had disappeared before turning to us. When he spoke, his voice was calm. “Deepest apologies for this lapse, ladies. I hope you’ll accept this gift card for your unpleasant shopping experience.”
A uniformed employee shouldered her way through Halcyore’s soldiers to present a card to me and Myka. It was made of ancient paper, and the word “STUFF” was manually scrawled across one side. Using ink. What a fucking weirdo.
Halcyore rested his arms on top of the tank. “Now, what can we help you with today?”
My mind had shorted out when I had a gun to my head, so words just weren’t a thing for me. Fortunately, Myka had kept her cool. “We need security wire cutters and a rental room for a short time.” She held up their handcuffs. “We’re taking care of this.”
“Of course! Of course! You there, give them what they need!” he shouted at another employee as his soldiers withdrew to wherever they’d come from. “I heard about the solar engine at the expo earlier.” He twisted a finger in his ear. “I remember when you were working on it.”
Halcyore knew me? “I…how did you know?”
“Oh, the engineering world talks, and you were consulting with many people. I was excited to see what you would come up with.”
Before I could feel good about myself, Myka had to ruin everything. “The design is actually the property of Cadinoff, as agreed to in a contract by Elly Henderson.”
Halcyore shrugged. “You two have fun working that out, then. If you’ll excuse me, this tank is starting to chafe.”
He rumbled away with his tank, vanishing to wherever his soldiers went. I wish I could say I was formulating a counterplan to Myka’s impending backstab as an employee approached to do Halcyore’s bidding, but I wasn’t. I’d hit a numb point, overwhelmed by the adrenaline rush of the entire night and dazed by Halcyore’s appearance. I tugged my mind to the present: Freeing myself from Myka. The likely knife in the back. I’d gotten complacent with her during the night, but I knew who she was. I knew what was coming.
If I were sensible, I’d have snatched some tool to defend myself. Maybe one of those pointy things used to poke through aluminum sheeting. But I wasn’t sensible, and so I just let Myka lead me to into the line of fire.
Halcyore’s had workrooms in back, rented by the hour. Handy for people who didn’t have space for their project. I’d used them before I got my shop going. A dinged, marked-up table sat along the far wall beside a display offering machinery rentals as well as person support. LED posters provided common measurement conversions and other basic information. Myka pulled out one of the chairs to sit. I took the other.
Securing our freedom didn’t take long. These cuffs were only a pain because they required a specific tool to open. Tool in hand, the cuffs popped open as if they’d been waiting for us to get with the program. I massaged my newly unencumbered wrist. Bruises had already formed in its wake, smattering my wrist down to my hand. The meat of my palm had a gnarly red scrape from when I’d been supporting Myka’s weight while dangling on the side of the building. My right hand would out of commission for a while.
Myka and I were both completely silent. Awkwardly silent. Would the backstab be literal? Did she have a knife? Or was she going to let the Cadinoff mercs outside grab me? She’d stationed them there after all. I could try a back exit, but no doubt they had that covered.
I rubbed the back of my neck behind the ears. The scruff. Where
