The blank page stared back at Myles. It was mocking him. Unwilling to take that sort of attitude Myles wrote ‘things to do’ at the top of the page and underlined it twice. It was way past bedtime o’clock and even getting the charts ready for work John he was still buzzed after fighting an eyeball plant monster piloting a big clay robot. Myles wrote ‘FML’ as the first entry and circled it for emphasis. More sensible listings followed as Myles wrote ‘Join Gym’ ‘Learn fighting’ and after a quick glance to the furry bum at the end of the bed ‘Buy cat food’. Mastering his new superpowers would do him no good if he was killed in his sleep. Spending so much time out of the house had upset cat Charlie. Hence he had parked himself on the end of the bed giving Myles a view of his arse. ‘Investigate item creation’ and ‘Suit tutorial’ were added but placed at the bottom as the suit had not yet synced up to local language and still displayed aliens letterforms.
This hadn’t been quite as much preparation as Myles would have liked, but he has gotten the ball rolling and getting it down on paper meant he felt a little less like a wet windsock flapping in the breeze. The Trigger’s mind juju had been steadily wearing off too which was a bonus. Nice as it was to be blasé about big shocking revelations Myles felt like it cost him just that little bit of sharpness. If he wanted to dull his senses there was a wide selection of liquids at the pub that would do just that. But not Fosters, he had standards. On the matter of experiences being mutes Myles wondered if he should tell John about the events in Stonebridge… the little he could remember about it anyway. It seemed that even if he could properly perceive and record otherworldly bullshit in his squishy meat brain, he couldn’t magically remember stuff he was not able to record at the time. Tommy was a hazy memory at best. Myles added ‘Ask John about Stonebridge’ to his list. That was enough planning for the evening he though. Tomorrow was a new day.
A rush job getting the charts ready for John… Work John had not been ideal. But they always laid on a good continental breakfast spread when they had new clients to impress so he had that to look forward to in the morning. Myles wasn’t sure he could face fatty meat or any sort of pastry for a while. Buzz or not, Myles decided giving for the night and getting some sleep was the best course of action, he could fill out his plans more tomorrow. After putting out the light and tucking himself in nice and cosy, Myles felt a furry lump plonk down next to him.
“I knew you still loved me your furry bastard”
Charlie Murderpaws Endeavour ignored him, fell right back to sleep and farted.
“Love you too arsehole”
Myles drifted off to sleep completely unaware of the black Ford Transit parked outside of his house. The ancient weapons system he had bonded too worked as a marvellous warning system against things from the other side. But it did little to nothing against plain vanilla mortals.
Arkwright & Fletcher was abuzz as Myles walked through the front door. It was more activity than a normal client warranted. This boded well for the size of the breakfast spread. His appetite may have gotten mostly back to normal but he sure as heck could make an exception for croissants and fancy jam.
“Myles! I’m glad I caught you” Said a voice from from behind him.
Carol Waterman, a woman who despite her short stature could look down her nose at anyone strode towards him with the natural confidence and authority of a middle manager. Myles stopped in his tracks and braced himself.
“Despite no one actually knowing what you do and the fact Arkwright & Fletcher would run smoothly and happily without you”
“Pot, kettle, black, but carry on”
“You were requested to be at the meeting with the new clients… by the new clients. Anything you want to tell us Mr. Endeavour?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“No.” Myles said carefully modulating his tone as close to neutral as possible.
Carol glared at him. Myles had become adept at avoiding office politics so he just let the woman tire herself out and scoot off to exercise her middling authority elsewhere. He heard her mutter something about telling Marjorie. The bad news was he would now be involved in a meeting. Myles was of the opinion ninety percent of meetings could be replaced with an A4 page of bullet points and even then it would be double spaced. Resigning himself to a morning of boredom he headed up to grab croissants and fancy jam.
The identity of John’s big new client came as a surprise. Sweetbright Industries was a big player in British tech. But despite the diverse portfolio of Arkwright & Fletcher ranging from gardening equipment to emergency lighting there seemed to be little crossover and little to offer such a big fish. John however was bringing his charisma a-game pointing at charts and waxing poetic about quarterly numbers. Sweetbright was being represented by a trio of sharply dressed individuals, two men who looked more like bouncers than office executives and a Scandinavian looking woman who was, judging by their body language, the one in charge. They all listened with rapt attention to John give what he called ‘The full Johnson Marquis’ before asking questions. Myles had tuned most of this out, instead wondering what sort of weapon would be able to make once the crafting systems were online. His inner child was jumping up and down demanding a jetpack.
Myles felt John kick him under the table.
“I said what do you make of these numbers Mr. Endeavour” The Scandinavian woman said in a curt tone. “Mr. Marquis, if this is the standard of worker we would be dealing with maybe we need to reconsider.”
The Mr. Endeavour in question did not know what was going on, but this felt staged. Granted he was relying on the more mundane instincts to all him that and not the ones that kept him out of dark woods. But it felt on the money.
“Apparently my presence was requested which means either someone on your end didn’t do the required reading or they did in which case you know I have no business being in this kind of meeting. I’m a social media officer, that means my job is 90% not being racist online. What do I make of these numbers? The answer is I don’t know, I would go ask someone who knows this stuff”
The smirk on Lady Scandinavia fell off her face. The question had been some tactic to get him on the back foot. This was exactly why Myles went out of his way to avoid dealing with that side of businesses. There was always some tosser who though they were Machiavelli.
“I don’t know you or anyone at Sweetbright as far as I’m aware, so why you are trying to put me in my place is a mystery to me and I don’t care for office games. But I will say one thing. If you are genuinely interested in working with Arkwright & Fletcher then Johnson Marquis is your guy, there isn’t a single person who brings a presentation to life better than this man”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw John pretend not to wipe a tear away. Soppy bugger.
“If anyone needs me I will be at my desk posting inoffensive promotional material and trying to get our corporate banter to go viral” Myles got up and strode out of the room in a display of strength, pride and confidence. Myles strode back into the room to grab more croissants and some fancy jam. He was leaving again when the Scandinavian woman spoke.
“It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Endeavour. My name is Sandra Bright”
Myles didn’t think his behaviour had been rude per-say. But Sandra Bright was the granddaughter or Sweetbright co-founder Addison Bright. Though long dead, his family still had enormous pull in the company, not to mention wealth. powerful people rarely enjoyed being called out on their bullshit. Granted, no one liked being called on their bullshit, but the most some random corporate berk could ever do was spew spicy pejoratives after a few lines of nose candy. Sandra Bright could probably buy Arkwright & Fletcher with the contents of her childhood piggybank and fire everyone just for shits and giggles. So Myles munched on pilfered breakfast pastry with a generous spread of preserves and waited to see exactly how things would play out.
“Hero of the hour” proclaimed John, surprising Myles with a bear hug and several manly pats on the back. “You landed us a very lucrative joint project with Sweetbright”
Myles choked on pastry crumbs and the big man squeezed him tight.
“You my boy are going to be the project liaison. Ms Bright asked for you herself, its going to mean more work, longer hours, extra travel”
‘Did you remember to explain I’m grossly unqualified’
“They will be matching your salary for the duration of the contract and are offering a completion bonus at the end”
Myles’ desire for honesty and being true to himself was no match for his need to pay bills and put food on the table.
“How may I best serve my new corporate overlord”
“Pub after work, my round… No, this round is going on Arkwright & Fletcher because we just earned this place a fat stack of cash.” Johnson beamed with pride.
No one would be cutting through the park tonight thats was for sure.
Hours later, back at her large office at Sweetbright Industries Sandra Bright sat down at her desk and addressed her guest.
“If I can persuade you to show a little restraint and let us use him for our ends first, then I promise you, we can have both the one you seek and the one who has defended him served up in a silver bucket”
The guest tilted its head but remained silent.
“As recompense for making you wait. I will personally choose five worth humans for you to hunt”
The guest turned to leave.
“And his own mothers location”
“Whooooooee-uueet” Said the guest, sealing the deal.