“It’s your lucky day, Kas.”

Kasimir Yadmic held the relay orb away from his face for a second and took a moment to compose himself. He hadn’t expected a work call on his day off, let alone from Zivanka, whose idea of appropriate business attire was to be armed and armoured from the instant one lifted their head from the pillow to the moment it fell back again, regardless of officially-mandated minimum labour conditions.

He ran a hand through his hair, white as snow from some throwback genetic link to old Bozalosc heritage – not uncommon in these parts – and tried to position himself in front of his tower window. The influential city of Zha Doya spread out fetchingly behind him, its many colourful spires piercing the skies. A far more impressive backdrop than the modest lodging he called home. A lodging which currently had last night’s clothes and miscellaneous paraphernalia strewn across the floor.

Thus in position, he reached out to the hovering orb and tapped it twice, the signal to activate full broadcast mode. The magic keyed specifically to him blazed to life, and a clear image of Ziv appeared in his head. She was dressed in full armour, of course, bristling with weapons and standing outside what looked like an expensive café. He saw her eyes dart to the side, even as her hand reached forward and adjusted her own orb, presumably to make way for a passing pedestrian.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Ziv. Even if it’s… somewhat unexpected.” It didn’t pay to talk back to one’s boss. And Ziv was nice. Mostly.

Ziv squinted at him, tilting her head on instinct as she tried to get a better look at his surroundings. It didn’t work, of course. Ziv had never been the best with magic. But as she would say, that was what specialists were for. Ziv was a planner and leader, tried and true, and that was what got the job done.

“A little underdressed, aren’t you?” She pursed her lips. “And is that ziga hair on your tunic?”

Following her eyes, Kas reached up and brushed his hand over the problem spot. From Ziv’s reaction, he gathered he must have just smeared the offending material further over his clothes. “Her name’s Miri,” he said a little defensively. “And she likes to sleep on my chest.”

“That’s… nice.” Ziv pursed her lips. “I’ll be brief, Kas. A contract just came in which would ordinarily be a bit above your paygrade. But Mirko’s down with a case of the nurgles, and the job calls for a roster of at least fifteen. Diverse skillsets required at urgent notice. Straighten up your professional appearance a bit, and you’re in. Handle yourself well out there and this could open up some further opportunities for you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he replied wryly. “I’d planned on visiting my brother today. What’s the job, and why so many people?” Fifteen was an unusually large crew.

“Standard retrieval. You’ll be visiting a research facility. Just one item, but it should be easy to find – look for the highest concentration of security. As for the numbers, I told you it was a higher paygrade. We’re expecting forcefields, mana traps, physical blockades, and almost certainly a fight. Good news is it’s private ownership, and they spent most of their cash on decoys and counterintelligence. We’re unlikely to face many reinforcements. Bad news is, we don’t expect it will be long before they catch wind and our window closes. We’re not worrying about stealth. We move fast, grab the goods and transfer to the client as quickly as possible. Once it’s in their hands, we’ve delivered our end of the agreement. Oh, and you will be getting a bonus.”

“Hmm. Are you sure Elurium is happy to risk a mid-tier on such a big assignment?”

Ziv shrugged. Kas watched in amusement as a small child approached the window behind her, pressed her lips and nose to the glass and began pulling faces in the direction of the relay orb. Catching his expression, Ziv frowned, turned around and rapped on the glass with one sharp knuckle, sending the girl scurrying back into the shop in a flurry of giggles.

“That’s what they pay me to judge,” she replied, turning back to the orb. “If I didn’t think we had the people to handle it, Elurium wouldn’t accept the contract. Turning down an opportunity is a small loss. Botching one could do far worse to our reputation as mercenary-thieves. And I don’t think you’ll botch it. You’re just a little inexperienced. Follow instructions and you’ll be fine.”

The girl in the café was making her way forward again, but only made it two steps before she was whisked off her feet by a parent. Kas found himself rather disappointed.

He sighed. He liked his job, he’d studied his way towards it for years. The work wasn’t everything he’d imagined – for one thing, the reality involved a lot more paperwork than the recruitment campaigns had led him to believe – but he enjoyed it. Once or twice he’d even gotten to use his safecracking skills under supervision from an experienced mentor. And he couldn’t argue with the money. It was the kind of job which had hundreds of eager graduates lining up each year to snag, only to be turned away disappointed.

But at the same time, the long hours and stress of being on call had been getting to him. Lately it felt like more and more of his life was being eaten by work, leaving him drained even in his free time. So far the prestige and money had seen him through. And probably would for a while yet. But he didn’t know if that would last forever.

He sighed again and shot Ziv a small smile. Jarom would have to wait. “Happy to help. As long as I get the time back another day.”

Ziv beamed at him, wrinkles crinkling down the sides of her mouth. “Fabulous. You’re Supply. You’ll need recharges, pocket storage – heavy duty, please – and official liability waivers. Make sure the whole team signs them, or we’ll have to deal with angry relatives if they don’t make it. Single-handed weapons only. We can’t have you missing an order because you’re fumbling with a crossbow. Otherwise, standard package applies. We meet in three sands, so make sure you drop by the warehouse to pick everything up. And please, do brush up. You’ve gotten away with it so far, but higher levels come with greater client expectations.”

“I promise I won’t turn up covered in ziga hair.”

“And properly armoured, please. After this job I’m giving you the details of my outfitter. A consultation would be good for your professional development.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She gave him a look that clearly conveyed he should give it more than his usual level of consideration, that she was serious, but didn’t belabor the point. “Don’t be late,” she said, and ended the connection.

Kas exhaled slowly, trying to mentally recalibrate his day. Forget a nice leisurely morning and a chance to catch up with Jaromir over lunch, today he’d be rushing from place to place on an even more hectic schedule than usual. Was it too much to ask for employers to consider waiting one day to rob each other?

But with the promise of a bonus and the potential of an opportunity to move up, doing this job right might be enough to reinvigorate his love for the job. Maybe if he were making more, if he were able to do more prestigious assignments and put his best skills to work more regularly, then he wouldn’t find the days spent doing everything else so unfulfilling.

He tapped on the tumble cube hovering above his laundry basket to open it, rummaging through in search of a clean tunic. Alas, anything professional lay strewn about in the general vicinity of his hamper. He’d planned to throw them in before leaving for lunch, but now there was no time. He glanced down at himself, rubbing at the patch of fur. Nope, he wasn’t going to get that out any time soon.

“Miri, you’re getting me in trouble again,” he called, checking his hamper for the tunic with the least offensive odour and tossed it in the washing cube, mentally activating the express setting. In his opinion it wouldn’t matter once he was properly armoured, but Ziv would notice. She noticed everything.

Kas glanced at the sandglass on the wall, running about a sand and a half before midday. If he left now, he could run to the office and pick up the paperwork by the time his laundry was done. He’d have to rush to fill out his own forms and requisitions for today’s job, head down to the warehouse for his assigned supplies, and still make it home in time to change, but he could do it as long as nothing delayed him.

“Be good while I’m away,” he called to Miri, who let out a softly dismissive ‘krsskrrr’ sound in reply. She was fully occupied with stalking a scrap of paper across the floor, her twin fluffy tails sweeping dust away and creating a wind that pushed the paper just ahead of her reaching claws. Kas chuckled fondly, then rushed out the door.

Three sands from now, he’d be back on the job. The thought would once have been thrilling, but years of experience had taught him that it was true what everyone said. No matter how much you think you love it, mercenary thieving is just another job in the end.

He loved searching out the defences and pressing against them in just the right ways to make the shield fall, the lock pop open, the trap dissipate harmlessly. Breaking into things, pitting his skill against the defences, teasing them open… that was his true love. But, alas, until he really impressed someone important, he’d be relegated to support roles, practicing at the training centers providing the only chance to truly test his ability.

His breath came heavier when he finally reached the skyway level after too many minutes of climbing stairs - the buoy lift in his tower was perpetually out of order - but he was used to the exercise by now and not too winded. He stepped out into the familiar bustle of Zha Doya in the morning. The nearest zipcar terminal was seven minutes away from his tower - three if he sprinted, which he did. He should be able to catch the 10:40.

Before he was halfway there, the zipcar roared by overhead, vibrating the walking lane suspended beneath its rails. The skyway snaked between spires in sweeping curves, supported and connected to every tower of importance. The threads of power holding it stable were a marvel of magical engineering - or so proclaimed the tourist information. To Kas, they were a way for the city to save money by combining the zipcar tracks with walking paths. Sure, no zipcar had ever broken through and killed the pedestrians below it, but it still made him uneasy every time one vibrated by overhead.

He continued running as he watched the 10:40 slide off into the terminal. Its back parted, opening like a massive glass beetle to admit its waiting passengers. By the time he reached the terminal, it had begun to close, but he didn’t slow. Ducking to avoid hitting his head, he slid inside and grabbed a handrail, grinning breathlessly in response to the stares of his fellow passengers.

The attendant gave him a dirty look in the mirror, but he pretended not to notice. You weren’t supposed to enter the vehicle once it had begun closing, but no one ever prosecuted anyone as long as they paid their fare.

The zipcar slid smoothly into motion, its interior mechanisms hissing with a sound that grew higher and higher in pitch until it became inaudible and the city blurred by outside.