laugh, and Ralph flinches at the sound.
“I don't understand,” he whines. “I really don't. This… this is weird, and I don't know what is going on between you two, but it isn't going to be …”
“Safe?” She shakes her head. “No, it probably isn't going to be. For any of us. So, the question becomes: What do you want, Ralph?”
“What… what do you mean?”
“You want in on this story or not?”
“What story?”
She smiles at him, a predatory curl of her lips. “How much do you know right now? Maybe you can slip some speculation past your boss, but you don't have much and Secutores is going to disappear. Unless you start making wild accusations and then, well, they've set two fires already, right? I don't think they'll have any problem starting a third.”
“What about him?” His eyes dart toward me. “What did he say he was? A soldier of what?”
“He's mine,” she says flatly. “But you can have the Liberty and Eden Park.”
He licks his lips carefully, his eyes darting back and forth between us. “And…?” His fear is gone, replaced by an expression not unlike the one I had seen on Mere's face not a few minutes ago. Animal cunning. Looking for an angle.
“Anything more will make you a target,” she says. When that doesn't make him blink, she continues. “I'll need someone I can trust for research—quiet research, without attracting attention.”
“I'm a staff journalist with the largest independent Australian newspaper,” he argues. He sits up straighter as his spine starts to come back. “I'm not an intern.”
“Write whatever you want based on any research you do,” she says. “But I don't have to tell you why I want things or what my conclusions are.”
“Fair enough,” he agrees.
“You play games with me, and I cut you off,” she says. “You tell anyone anything that puts us in danger and—”
“Who would I tell?” he interjects. “I mean, willingly. Right? I know how this works. I'll keep my mouth shut.”
“What if Secutores comes looking for you?” I ask.
He takes the question well. “I don't know,” he says.
“Tell them everything,” I say. “If it comes to torture, don't be a martyr. They'll probably know more than you anyway.”
“Oh, that's reassuring. So they'll just be ripping out my fingernails and tasing my testicles because they're that sort of psycho perverts?”
“Well, they certainly won't be doing it because they think it'll make me come running to your rescue.”
“Yeah.” He glances down at his hands, which are balled up into fists in his lap. “I kind of figured that out already.”
“What's it going to be, Ralph?” Mere asks again.
He exhales heavily and his fists tighten again. “Nnnnn,” he starts, strangling a single letter. “Fuck it. I'm in.”
“Okay,” she says. “Then it's time for you to go.”
“What?” He stares at her, looking as if she had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it.
“Silas says we're leaving,” she says. “Do you really want to know where we're going?”
“Oh, right. Right.” He nods, caught between elation and disappointment. “Right. I don't even want to know.” He pushes away from the headboard and gets off the bed. “Okay, I'm gone. Yeah, I can be gone.” He gives me a wide birth, but stops before he reaches the bathroom. “I can work with Secutores setting the fire. I can stir the pot a bit on that. I might even be able to get some speculation going about Kyodo Kujira, but I need something else. Something from the big picture.”
Mere nods, and I step over to the dresser/armoire unit and pull out the bottom drawer. I grab the CO2 pistol and offer it, butt first, to Ralph.
“What is it?” he asks, reaching for it as if it might bite him.
“One of the Secutores agents was carrying it.”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?”
He offers me a wry grin as he plucks the gun from my hand. “No,” he says.
“Be careful,” Mere says. “Whoever supplied that to Secutores isn't going to be very happy if they find out you have it.”
“Yeah,” Ralph nods. “I know. He hefts the gun and looks at both of us in turn. “Thanks,” he says. “Thanks for the chance, and, uh, thanks for not killing me.” The last is directed at me.
“No problem,” I say.
“Shit,” he says, more to himself than to us, and with that, he darts for the exit, his sense of self-preservation finally getting through to the motion control centers of his brain.
“So,” Mere says after the door has shut behind Ralph. “Where are we