Hours later, after Sarah and I had finished watching Wolf Princess and I dug up some of the saved public access show recordings from the turn of the millenium for us to watch at my place, I got a phone call. It was Joseph. “How’d your date with Zagreus go, Joey my boy?” Got him sputtering on the other end.
“It wasn’t... I don’t... it wasn’t a date!” I could perfectly picture the blush he had on his cheeks, and also picture Century as a cherub aiming arrows at Joseph and Zagreus. The second image mainly because Century sent it to me.
“Sure, so what did you do on your not date?” I moved to lay upside down on the couch. Sarah’s tea had really worked wonders.
“If you must know, I invited him over, made him lunch and then we just hung out, talking.”
“Uh huh, and how is that not a date?” Sarah was snickering quietly at my teases.
“Under that definition every time I cooked for you it was a date.”
“Nope, we were housemates at your mom’s place, completely different context to inviting a boy over to cook for him.” I rolled off the couch to get all the blood out of my head. I even managed to do a handstand in the middle of it.
“Fine, fine, it was a date, and it went okay. We’ve got a second one next Saturday.” The huge smile in his voice was audible for just long enough there that I could tell the difference when it disappeared and Joseph began talking again. “Hey, so, Quicksilver wants you to show up at his place, within the hour. He just called me and said that it’s job related.”
“Is that right? Any details?”
“He said he was asked to contact you by a very notorious Bulletin. And that said Bulletin is parked outside his place right now for an in-person job offer. That’s it.”
“A notorious Bulletin?” I grabbed my jacket and slid down the firepole down to my car. Definitely a smart investment. “Anyone we might know?”
“It could be Silk Threat for all I know.” I snorted at his answer.
“We’d screw up all of that hag’s careful planning and web spinning if she ever gave us a job, definitely not her.” With the phone away from my ear, I yelled to Sarah. “You can stay here until I get back or leave, up to you!”
“I’m enjoying Sesame Street way too much to leave now! It’s fascinating how cultures can shift. See you in a bit, M!” She replied, and I drove off towards Quicksilver’s place.
He was waiting outside by the time I got there, wearing another one of his impersonator outfits. Some sort of yellow jacket and pants with a white t-shirt underneath. Quicksilver jumped me the moment I got out of my car. “M, darling, babe, it is lovely to see you.” His arm was around my shoulder swiftly. “Now, the gentleman who asked for you is a Mr. Jacob Grimm-”
“The fairytale guy?”
“What? No, no darling, the Bulletin. Some people call him Harvester. If you get a deal with him, why, you’ll be rich in no time. Ta!” After patting me on the shoulder and opening the limousine’s door for me, Quicksilver went back to his office. I scooped inside, followed by Century.
“Ah, Misses M and Century. It is a pleasure to meet you, at last, face to face.” On the inside, I was laughing. Jacob was using the same vocal implant techniques to make himself sound otherworldly. But while mine was a loud reverberated echo, his was a quiet hiss, like a gas leak. His voice wasn’t the only thing he was trying, however. When I was finally settled in and took a look at him, I must say I was impressed.
He was shirtless, something akin to a robe hanging from his waist around where its belt was. This exposed the extent of his cyberware. A set of metal strips grafted onto his ribs and over his collar bones, his shoulders and throat and lower jaw completely mechanical, exposed and with the texture of black iron. His arms were thin, skeletal, a set of electromagnetic joints keeping them together. He was smiling, as much as one can smile with only an upper lip.
The door closed, and we drove off. An interview on wheels. “Okay, sorry, I have to ask this before we go further otherwise it’s going to keep driving me nuts, did you choose the name Jacob Grimm on purpose or was that an accident?”
“Why do you ask, M? Is there something wrong with my name?” He steepled his fingers under his chin while leaning somewhat forward.
“Nothing wrong, you just share it with a German folklorist and fairytale adapter.”
“I see. You are the first of my potential mercenaries to point such a fact out. I do appreciate dealing with someone with a spark of intellect, in contrast to the usual brutes.” Jacob relaxed and gestured to a cupboard. “May I offer you a drink? I have recently procured an extremely rare barrel of whisky, dated to 1985. It is a miracle the angels have not drank it all yet.”
“No thanks, I don’t drink. Drunk driving’s the worst thing a Journeyman can do, so we only keep alcohol to treat wounds and to clean up.”
“A shame. It is a quite remarkable spirit. Very well, M, it is time we approach business.” A pair of screens slid from the ceiling, one each for either of us. “A young woman by the name of Kimberly Abigail Smith approached me with a proposition. She says Rabbithole Entertainment is working on something revolutionary behind closed doors. An improvement on Rent-A-Bodies.” The screens were showing the dosier, all the information that the client had provided. “According to her, Rabbithole is trying to achieve immortality. She wishes to meet you, discuss the details with you personally.” Jacob handed me a card. “And I would suggest getting in contact with this individual and their organization. I have reason to suspect they will make the job much easier.” The card had an address and a password scribbled on it in shaky handwriting. “My contact in the organization was augmented for strength, not precision.”
“Uhuh. Sure.” I pocketed it. “Is that all?”
“If you had accepted the drink, I am certain we would have had a more colourful conversation before the offer. We do still have time, M, for casual conversation.” He looked straight at me, and his eyes turned a pitch black, the only color being the pale dots in the center, like far off white dwarf stars. “Which is why I would like to ask you, M: what are you running from?”
“The consequences of my actions and inactions. Weirdly enough, they usually look like cops. You’d think Consequences would be more creative in their appearance and effect, but no, it’s just cops.” I shrugged, and Century helped me ease up somewhat with an image of us dressed like classic cartoon burglars.
“Charming. I have had dealings with Journeymen, M. Your inability to settle down for fear of losing your spaces is notorious. Yet you have spent the past six months in Dusklight. I find that curious.” I clenched my fist and breathed out through my teeth.
“I’m politely requesting we keep our relationship strictly professional.” He nodded. The car stopped, the door opened. We were standing in front of Quicksilver’s office building.
“Of course, M. I simply prefer knowing my employees. It makes me care about them more if they meet an unfortunate end.” He gestured for the door. “Miss Smith wishes to meet you at Guts, tomorrow evening at precisely six. I suggest you use your free time to contact the organization.” I got out with Century riding my shoulders. “And M, it was truly a pleasure meeting you.” The door closed, he drove off, and I punched the nearest wall.
“You look like you’d know the best why I’ve settled down, fucking edgy piece of shit.” Century nuzzled my cheek, sent me a picture of her offering hugs and reached for my fist. I pulled back. The plaster on the wall was cracked, but it wasn’t like you could tell it was new in contrast to the rest of the wall. My knuckles were scraped, even bleeding in some places from how hard I punched. I immediately went into my car, put up the glass shielding so nobody could look inside, and held Century close to me. She was chirping the song she used to calm me down. A quiet and gentle melody she had generally employed when my dysphoria had gotten crippling. I laughed, the sound bittersweet on my tongue, and eased up on the hug, looking right at Century’s face. She was smiling at me, as much as her beak allowed her to smile. “Sorry, Cent. He just got to me. Bastard even managed to make me lose my cool.” I shifted gears and lit the ignition. “I could use some of Maria’s bar food after that, plus Joseph will want to know. Let’s go pick both of them up, what do you say?” Century’s reply was her, wielding a comically large chainsaw and standing next to a block of ice. “One of these days we need to make the journey to the north of Greenland in January. Imagine the sculptures you’d be able to carve there.” Century hopped to her seat, and with a quick pet we were off.
Let the girl relax with some sesame street and snuggles, jeez cops
Thank you for the chapter!
I wonder what M is running from too now ^^