Chương 55: Chapter Fifty - Talking them Up

Sharp, unfortunately, spent a solid half hour talking up the blonde before we finally left. It was mostly a litany of excitable babble that had me wanting to cringe to death, Nine Lives perk or no. Doubly unfortunately, the woman took the prattle as complementary and seemed to actually enjoy it. She laughed at Sharp's exuberance and then took some time to show off her equipment. That part, at least, was somewhat interesting. It was hard to keep up with all of the tools available in my trade.

There were new solutions popping up all the time, because if people were good at one thing, it was killing others. Her rifle was a rather ugly, spindly little thing. A thin barrel and a tiny aluminum stock with just enough furniture on it to hold a scope in place above and a narrow magazine below. It was pure function over form and reminded me more of the kind of rifle I'd seen Olympic biathlon athletes use.

She showed off the gun and its rather advanced optics for a while before bragging about having other, cooler guns. Sharp demurred about the weapons we'd brought ourselves. Eventually, the young woman had to head out, and Sharp got back to practicing when I subtly encouraged her with a bite to the calf. Another couple of hours passed before we were done running through all of the ammo we'd brought. A few guns jammed, which was great.

A learning opportunity on how to handle something going wrong with equipment in a safe environment. Better than the same happening in the field, of course. Once we were through with ammo, however, it was time to head out. In all that time, not a single soul showed up at the range. That wasn't altogether surprising. Clemus was the private sort, and while the range was open to anyone, not everyone knew about it to begin with.

I suspected that he'd bought a hundred or so acres of land around his little estate, to keep neighbours at bay. Sharp packed her things up, and I hopped into the duffel as well so that just my head was poking out. We paid Clemus via Sharp's smart phone, and the old man waved us goodbye as we headed out in an autocab. We were halfway home when Sharp suddenly groaned and pressed her face into her hands.

"No," she moaned.

"What is it?" I asked. She didn't sound physically pained, just inconvenienced.

"I didn't ask her her name!" Sharp said.

"Ah. Yes, you are quite stupid like that."

"Don't rub salt into it," Sharp said.

"She was so pretty!"

"She could kill you with one eye closed," I said.

"I knoooow, you don't have to tell me, I think she's awesome already." Sighing, I rolled my eyes.

"Don't let this kind of silliness get in between you and the job. Getting struck by a honeypot isn't the way to go." Then again, I didn't want Sharp to be entirely without any relationships. My own paranoia had prevented me from ever forming anything really long lasting. People always had questions and the moment you allowed them to start digging, they'd start finding inconsistencies. Sharp... could probably find something, if she wasn't stupid about it.

"It's not my place to criticise your choice in partners, but I feel like I ought to warn you away from people that can literally kill you with ease. No matter how... interesting you find that kind of thing."

"Yeah, I guess," Sharp said.

"It's just that... like, everything else in my life feels awesome right now, you know? I've got food, and a nice home, and I guess a cool job, and it feels like I'm slowly reaching the point where all of my wildest dreams are coming true, and I guess part of that is getting the girl, you know?"

"I suppose," I said. Why was she telling me all of this? I wasn't a therapy cat.

"Yeah... did you know, I didn't know that I was into girls for a long time."

"You don't say. Did someone have to smack you for you to figure it out?"

"Hmm, I guess I really realized it when the people at the orphanage threw me a coming out party. That was really nice of them." I let myself go boneless so that my face crashed into the plush seat. I couldn't. We arrived home, and a red-faced Sharp escorted me back in where, of course, we were greeted by the usual suspects.

Arsenic wanted food--his food bowl was full, so it was mostly just the need to fill it back to the brim and stir it around--and the others wanted hello cuddles, which I was more than ready to accept. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Once we were settled in I had Sharp grab her phone and place an important call. If we wanted her to work two days a week as a courier, then we needed to let her boss know. The call went well enough.

Malcolm wasn't an idiot. He knew a good employee when he saw one, and even if she was down to two days a week, that didn't harm him too much. Courier work wasn't the most popular gig to get to in Boston Two. The pay was too low for the amount of movement it required. Most folk looking for easy, low-pay work would settle for flipping burgers or taxing people around for an app. It was far safer, even if the pay was just a smidge lower. That, and courier work generally required an in.

"Done!" Sharp said after she hung up. She flopped back onto the couch, then picked Arsenic up and placed him on her chest where she started to run her hands through his fur.

"Why is talking on the phone sometimes harder than doing an hour's workout?"

"Because your brain is wired incorrectly," I said.

"Now that that's done, let's see about grabbing you a gig."

"Oh?" Sharp asked.

"I thought that would be for Thursday?"

"And what did you plan on doing for the rest of the day?" I asked.

"Sit around and watch TV? Scroll on your phone for six hours?"

"Uh," Sharp said. She definitely planned on doing just that.

"We can easily find work now that only needs doing on Thursday. It'll even give us some time to plan things out. What if we pick up a job that would be best started from in the city and we need to grab a hotel? Or if we need some specialized equipment?"

"Can't I pocket anything like that?" she asked.

"Maybe. But also, maybe not." I had Sharp fetch my laptop and soon we were both looking at the forums again. I had her skip any job that paid more than a certain amount. Those usually had a level of risk consummate with the price.

"That one. The glass table," I said.

"That's another sabotage mission." Mid-Century Modern Coffee Table – Glass Top Condition: Slightly cracked but still functional. Details: Located in a central hub. Expect glass to shatter during removal. Some sharp edges. Handle with care. Price: $15, 000 Contact: @ [email protected]"Another?" Sharp asked.

"Why not? That last one went relatively well, and this one pays a little better. Depending on the location it might even be easier." Sharp nodded and opened it in another tab.

"What about that one?" Bean Bag Chair – Oversized and Comfy Condition: Sink-in comfort, though bulky. Details: Found in an underground space. You'll need patience and persistence to retrieve it. A bit messy but worth the effort. Price: $80. 00"Is the price a typo?" Sharp asked.

"That looks like a... retrieval gig?"

"A search mission, yes," I agreed.

"And the price isn't a typo. You can't just have everything written out with exact prices. That'd be too suspicious. Click on it, see if the poster had anything to add." There were a few comments. Some of them were bot-generated, the kind of thing that looked valid at a glance to throw visitors off, but a few seemed to come from real accounts and they asked valid questions. Pickup times and locations, willingness to negotiate. It painted an interesting picture.

Someone had lost something in the sewers around the north end of Fenway. They were hiring out anyone who could go and look. Anyone that proved that they had searched got a tiny payout, barely worth the hours, but the reward for finding whatever it was? A cool eight grand. Not a ton, but not bad for a mission that didn't ask for any level of violence.

"Yes, I suppose that one could work. It would even look good on your Solonet account. There are too many people that look down on someone with good detective skills in favour of someone good with a gun. But the good fixers know better."

"Neat!" Sharp said.

"So, an easy job, then?" Yeah, an easy job in the sewers. She wasn't ready for this, but she'd learn.