by M. D. Cooper
“To me, it has been, given the alternatives. I like the work and I like the lifestyle. I don’t love having so little time for personal interests, but that’s the price that comes with the rest of it.” Schramm dropped some onion into a skillet.
“You could have your own business, like me,” Marky said. “Decide your own hours, do something that you like.”
“Do you like everything about your job?” Schramm challenged. “Keeping customers happy, taking a loss sometimes, always knowing that if something were to happen, you could lose it all?”
“Well…no,” Marky admitted. “But those are my tradeoffs for making the decisions.”
“It’s the same thing, with a different job title.” Schramm shrugged.
“I guess.” Marky fiddled with her spiky hair.
By the time Trey came out, drying his hair with a towel, Reece was helping put plates on the table. “That smells great.”
“Leave it to you to show up when the work’s done and the food’s ready,” Reece said.
“Lucky timing.” Trey smiled innocently.
A little too innocently.
They had just started eating when Schramm’s head popped up, his eyes unfocused.
Reece froze in place, her water glass in her hand.
After a moment, Schramm’s head lifted and his eyes focused. “The board has agreed to hear our argument.”
“What does that mean?” Marky asked.
“It means they’re going to approach this matter as a trial. We’ll present our side, Cooper Fields will present his side, and then they’ll decide who to side with.”
“But we have to come out of here to do that, right?” Trey asked. “It could just be a trick to get us out of here where they can grab us.”
Schramm shook his head. “All contracts will be signed and registered beforehand. But we’ll have to agree to be bound by the arbitration. That will be in there, too.”
“I’m not excited about that idea.” Marky looked deeply concerned.
“I’ll assume your liability,” Schramm said. “Whatever, if anything, they settle on you, will come to me instead. You can leave here safe and secure. I’ll do the same for Apolla and Raya. Only Reece, Trey, and I will be at any risk.”
Marky didn’t look cheered by that. “I don’t want you three to be at risk.”
Schramm nodded. “I know, but this is how it’s done. This is a good sign, really. We just have to do our part and show why they should find in our favor. We’ll be back at work in no time.”
It wasn’t quite that simple, or such a foregone conclusion, but Reece didn’t correct him. She wanted Marky to feel okay about going home. She was only there to help them, anyway. Reece felt it was right to assume the responsibility for her and the others.
“So what,” Marky said, “we sign the arbitration papers and just walk out of here like nothing happened? Like I didn’t hack into their system and suck a few kilos of dust into my lungs crawling through Rexcare’s nooks and crannies?”
Reece nodded. “Yep. The rest of us will leave here, too, and go back to our lives. Well, other than not working, of course. We’ll have some unpaid time off, but the arbitration date should be pretty quick. They don’t like this kind of thing to affect the company, so they make an effort to get it behind them.”
Marky pursed her lips. “It seems like such an unmemorable resolution. I kind of expected all this to wrap up with a big firefight and possibly an explosion or two.”
Trey chuckled. “That was our last job.”
Reece shook her head and winked at him. “It happens that way sometimes. But most of the time, it ends like this. Corporate, efficient, and entirely binding.”
“Dull,” Marky added. “Downright boring.”
Considering recent events, a little bit of boring didn’t sound so bad to Reece. “We’ll see. Maybe we’ll give them a little extra something to liven things up.”
When Schramm and Trey looked at her reprovingly, she quickly added, “I mean of course we won’t. But if we wanted to, we totally could.”
They didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Reece didn’t care. She dug into her food with extra enthusiasm. If she got a chance to trouble the people who had given her trouble, she’d sure as hell do it.
She was good at making trouble, and could be patient, when she had to be.
* * * * *
Maybe she wasn’t as patient as she thought. Reece had to wait an entire week for the Rexcare arbitration to begin, and in the meantime, she wasn’t sure what to do with her time.
On day one, she gardened for Aunt Ruth, spent about fifty-eight hours scratching behind Rio’s ears, and also gone to visit Dex at Trey hen Trey loud of a snort of la house just a short walk away. The poor monkey had been nearly apoplectic with excitement, hopping from Trey’s shoulder to Reece’s, as if unsure of how to best take advantage of this bounty of human companionship.
Trey showed her some of Dex’s new tricks—shaking hands and playing dead. Reece wasn’t sure it was appropriate to teach dog tricks to a monkey, but since Dex seemed thrilled with it, she decided it wasn’t up to her to judge.
When Raya stopped by after work, Reece hung out with them for another twenty minutes, then made an excuse. No doubt Raya wanted Trey to herself.
As she walked back home, Reece thought of Kippy. She checked the time. It wouldn’t be busy yet at the Ringtoad. She could go by and visit him. Would it be weird to be there, now that things had changed between them?
She’d just have to go see.
She sent her aunt a message so she wouldn’t worry, then walked right past her house and toward the Ringtoad. By the time she made it there, the back of her neck was slicked with sweat.
Kippy saw her as soon as she entered and grinned as if she’d just given him a present.
Yeah, that was kind of nice, she had to admit. He didn’t smile like that for anyone else.
“Hey, Champ. You look damp.”
She grinned. “You’re must be in a good mood. It’s been a while since I heard you rhyme.”
“I’m glad you’re here, and not full of bullet holes.” He set a glass on the bar in front of her seat.
“It was just one bullet hole, but it’s better.”
He grabbed a bottle of H&P and poured her a generous portion. “And you get a five-day vacation until Rexcare clears you and you can get back to work, right?”
“That’s a very optimistic summary, but yes, more or less.”
“We could go to the beach,” he suggested. “That was fun last time.”
“It was. But I should stick around here, just in case something comes up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Yeah. I knew you’d say no.”
She tossed back half the whiskey. Ahhh. “How did you know? I could have said yes.”
“Nope. Not with something hanging over you. You’re too results-oriented for that.”
She blotted her lips with a napkin. “Hm. True. So then why did you ask?”
“You look like you need a kick in the butt.”
“I just got shot in the leg. Why would I need to get kicked in the butt?” she demanded.
“You tell me.”
“Because I don’t like sitting around waiting for someone else to determine my future?”
He nodded, wearing a knowing expression.
She continued, “And I know there are things I can do to tip the balance?”
He nodded again. “Keep going.”
“And the only reason I’m not doing anything is because most of the people I care about put themselves on the line for me, and I don’t want that happening again.”
“Because you don’t want to be unfair to them,” he said.
“Yeah.” She finished off the whiskey.
“But consider this,” he said, leaning over the bar. “Is it fair to risk your future, and therefore our ability to see you in the future, because you want to protect people who won’t want to be protected?”
“Is it?” she ask
ed.
“Is it?” he parroted.
“Or is it my job to take care of people I care about, even when they don’t want it?” she asked.
“Hm,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s one of those.”
She leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. “You think I should.”
“I do. You’re the best at fixing, so why not fix your own situation?”
She smiled. “You just don’t want me to end up unemployed and sitting here all the time drinking all your profits.”
He tapped the end of her nose. “I’d gladly let you, if it meant you’d be here all the time. Though there would be all the liver disease to deal with.”
She smiled. “I’d prefer to keep my liver in good shape.”
“You’d better get to work, then.”
She sobered and gave him a serious look. “Do you really think so?”
“You’re Reece, corporate fixer. So go. Fix.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
She decided to stop feeling guilty for pulling her friends into her problems. If they had problems, she’d jump right in with them.
Kippy held up the bottle of H&P. “Another?”
She smoothed her hair. “Save it for next time. I need to get to work.”
He grinned, his dimple sinking into his cheek. “Yeah, you do. And when you’re done, you owe me that trip to the beach. A whole weekend this time, not just a day trip.”
“You’re on.” She leaned forward over the bar to give him a long kiss and heard hoots and cheers from the staff and clientele.
Might as well let people know that this guy was hers, after all.
Feeling better than she had in quite some time, Reece stood, smoothed her weapons belt, and strode out.
She had work to do.
* * * * *
Should I call Trey?
The next morning, she was stuck with a conundrum.
She should call him. Of course, she should. He was her partner.
On the other hand, he had a few days ahead of him to relax, spend time with Dex and Raya. Considering what could happen if the board decided against them, it seemed uncool to take that time away from him.
What finally brought her to his doorstep was the fact that if he did something like this without telling her, she’d have been pissed.
They were partners. He at least deserved the chance to decide for himself how he wanted to spend the next few days.
Trey let her in, and while he made some tea, Reece played with Dex. First, he brought her everything small and shiny he could find. Then, they took turns making shooting gestures at each other with their hands, then pretending to die.
He was really good at it. The way he fell over backward with his hands on his chest looked better than the way people did it in the sims.
When she took her turn, he made a particular rolling chirrup that was high-pitched and went up and down in tone. People who didn’t know Dex would probably think she was nuts, but she was certain it was his version of laughter.
“Here we go.” Trey brought in a pitcher and glasses on a tray. He even brought a tiny cup for Dex and poured him some tea.
“He makes a mess, but if I don’t give him his own tea, he’ll put his head in my cup,” Trey explained. “And I’ve found I really dislike getting monkey hair caught in my teeth.”
“Yeah…sounds like something I’d take a pass on, too.” Reece grimaced.
“So what do you need to say?” he asked.
“Say?”
“You have something on your mind. I can tell.”
“You’ve gotten to know me pretty well,” she admitted.
“Yep. We’ve come a long way from you calling me offensive names and ditching me. But let’s reminisce another time. What brings you here?”
“I have an idea. A way to make sure things go the way we want with the board.”
His eyebrows rose. “What, a bribe? Blackmail? Taking someone out and hiding the body?”
“Kind of all of them, and yet none of them,” she hedged. “It’s a side of our work that I haven’t yet let you see.”
He shared a long, serious look with her. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Just like that? You don’t want to know more about it?”
“If it’s the job, and how things get done, and it ensures our future, yep. Let’s go.” He showed nothing but certainty.
“Okay,” she said. “But I warned you. This is going to get ugly.”
He nodded. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen you first thing in the morning. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
* * * * *
Trey wore an expression of bafflement mixed with fascination, sprinkled with just a wee bit of horror.
“I thought we were going to kill someone,” he said, his voice flat.
“Nothing quite that simple. This job rarely is,” Reece said.
“I kind of feel like I should have told you no.”
She nodded. “I suspected you’d feel that way. But there are times when we have to embrace the worst of the worst. And we’re doing this for our future.”
“Right. Our future.”
He said the words like he was trying to convince himself, but was failing.
She couldn’t blame him.
On the stage before them, an entertainment act unique to Akonwara played out.
Well, not so much entertainment as weird predilection, and it wasn’t so much a stage as an old guy’s broken down back porch.
Reece had known old Dale—as opposed to young Dale, or the now-imprisoned Stabby Dale—as far back as she could remember. He’d been a union leader in the days before the consumer public had realized that they had more collective power by voting with their money. Once that happened, the unions quickly disbanded because they’d been largely ineffective at changing anything anyway.
Dale remained a bit of a legend in Slagside, though. People held him in high regard both for the fact that he’d worked tirelessly to make life better for the average Akon citizen, and also because he’d remained in Slagside even after he could afford to leave.
He always said that he belonged with the people who were like him.
Reece, on the other hand, had gotten out of Slagside as soon as she could, though she visited often.
Old Dale was always glad to see her and always very interested in the latest machinations of the corporations. He still had a keen mind, at the age of seventy-three, even though he tended to behave in ways that made it seem otherwise.
Such as now. Reece took a moment to take it all in.
Old Dale stood on his back porch, which had been in need of repair thirty years ago, and barely qualified as a porch anymore. The man never liked using his money for himself, though, preferring to dispense it among his community.
Trey could have handled the disrepair and the clutter. What he seemed entirely without words for was the sight of Old Dale standing shirtless and darn near pantsless, besides a pair of far-too-brief shorts, with his brown, very rounded belly greased up like a ball bearing.
He stood in an old washtub—the old old kind, from the days before water reclamation units. On his face was an expression of delight.
“Are we ready?” Old Dale asked.
“Oh, yes. Start whenever you’re ready,” Reece said.
Trey peeled his eyes from Old Dale long enough to shoot a what’s happening look at Reece.
Old Dale cleared his throat. “This one’s an oldie, but a goodie. You’ll know it right off, Reece my girl, but your big shiny friend there will probably be hearing it for the first time.”
The old fellow raised his hands, seemed to be listening for something, then began drumming a rhythm on his greased belly.
Reece had thought Trey couldn’t look any more bewildered, but she’d been wrong. He grew steadily more perplexed while Old Dale drummed with his hands, adding counterpoints with his feet in the washtub.
And then the singing began.
I used to be a young man
>
In a different time than now
Times were so much simpler
When I had that cow
I wish I could have kept her
From falling in that ditch
But gosh she sure did make one
Delicious sandwich
At that point, Old Dale got serious about the drumming. He bobbed up and down from standing to squatting, because the sound of the deep washtub changed the resonance of his belly-slapping.
Trey looked utterly astounded at this point, and mildly dismayed by the sight of Old Dale, his shiny belly, and the surprisingly agile squatting.
Trey sent her a message. Sort of.
Sure enough, Old Dale did a bit of yodeling, raising his voice up to a howl, and on the final note, he hopped out of the washtub. Putting his left hand in his right armpit, he flapped his right arm to emit two distinctive sounds that were quite different than the belly-drumming from before.
Trey took a step backward and it was all Reece would do not to burst out in a laugh that was sure to conjure up tears of hilarity.
Instead, she clapped and hooted. “Well done, Old Dale! That’s one of my favorites.”
“Don’t I know it, my girl. I chose it special for you. And I thought your friend might like it. He looks like he enjoys a good sandwich.”
Reece gripped Trey’s arm to bring him to reality. As amusing as his reaction was, they were here for a purpose.
she reminded him.
Out loud, she said, “His name’s Trey. He’s my new work partner, and a very good friend.”
Trey cleared his throat and nodded. “Glad to meet you, sir.”
“Don’t ‘sir’ me, my boy. I’m no exec. Why don’t you two come in so we can cool off? Don’t worry—I’ll put on a shirt. This is just my performance outfit.”
“Uhm…” Trey looked to Reece.
“Of course,” she said. “It’s hot as hell out here.”
Old Dale’s house was in better repair on the inside. Locals, including Reece, quietly did work on it for him when he wasn’t looking. It was almost a community project, looking after Old Dale as well as he looked after them.