“Honey, I need you to deliver something for me.”
They sat opposite each other, drinking the pink caffeinated liquid. Her stomach still churned when she looked at it, remembering the pink contents of her stomach splattered against the school stairway, but she needed the caffeine. It was humanity's most accepted drug of choice. It would help her through the day.
“Sure,” she murmured in response. It was shocking to her how well her mother had dealt with the transition from five to one; unlike her father, who, through hard work, had raised himself from level three to five, her mother was born and raised at level five, never seeing anything below that. Now, she existed on these streets as if she had always been there. Finding work and even gaining a reputation among those who lived here. The kind android doctor, that's what they called her. However, level one had aged her- or maybe life had aged her. The stress had aged both of them in different ways.
“It’s a bit strange,” her mother twirled the metal tube-like object.
“How come?” she asked.
“I can’t put my finger on it; it’s an old part that hasn’t been used in a while, but… I can’t remember where I’ve seen it before.” She sighed, picking up the smooth tube, “It gives me a bad feeling.”
She looked at the small metal tube and tried to find what her mother had seen in it. To her, it just looked like another mechanical detail—one she didn’t need to bother remembering. It was similar but slightly different from the rest, which were metallic structures of different sizes and shapes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine. When and where do I need to drop it off?”
Her mother sighed again, “It’s out of the way. I’ll send the directions to your biochip. He wants it delivered a bit late, around 10 p.m. Just introduce yourself as my daughter. The boss is a nice guy, and you shouldn't have any issues getting in.” She pressed a few things on her hologram.
Moments later, a location popped up on her own screen. She knew the building. A skyscraper, one of the newer ones with blacked-out windows running all along one side, stood in the middle of town near the river before the wall separating them from the second level. She avoided it like the plague. There was no point in catching the eyes of those within it. Associating with a clan never brought anyone any good, but associating with an intergalactic syndicate- even worse. From the beginning, she had been against her mom taking up employment with the Mammon syndicate. The organization had been on the news many times over; the name had caught her attention, searing itself into her brain. A name from an old-world religion for the demon of greed- or something of that sort. Nothing good could come from associating with an organization named after old-world sins.
Her mom looked at her, pleading for her to agree. She nodded, “I’ll do it, don’t worry.”
The sun had set, leaving behind the glow of neon lights. She wore black army pants and an oversized black hoodie, her hair pulled back and her face hidden. The door was armed by two large men, holding guns she had never seen before, large and flowing with blue liquid. Her hands were wet with cold nervousness, gripping a bag holding the part. They stood watching her, waiting for her to make a move. She took a deep breath and walked towards the door.
“Name,” one of the gruff men grunted.
She shuddered, her stomach doing back flips. The person before her was massive, muscles rippled beneath a tight black shirt. She glanced at the gun-he did not need that thing to take her out. One hand would be enough.
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“I’m the surgeon’s daughter,” she muttered, unsure if this would actually work. Her mother was too carefree. She should have warned them ahead of time that her daughter was coming.
“Oh, Miss Bond's kid,” his voice changed suddenly, turning warmer. He smiled. "Yeah, come on in. She’s talked a lot about you.”
She started to take a step in, but when he held out a hand, her heart stopped. Did she do something wrong? Would she die here? The last few days had been too stressful for her; soon, her hair would go grey even though she wasn't killed beforehand.
“Wait, weapons, you gotta give them up,” the guard said.
With a shaking hand, she pulled out the phaser from her pocket and handed it to him. It looked tiny in the large man’s hand. He looked at it for a moment before showing it into a pocket in his cargo pants. “Don’t worry; you’ll get it back later.”
They entered a large open area with stairs leading up to an elevator. The energy shield rippled around the elevator's platform. The interior was a mix of blacks and greys. It almost did not look like a crime headquarters. A receptionist stood near the door, giving her a tight smile.
The man escorted her to the elevator, scanning his biochip and choosing the floor for her, and then waved her off. Wasn’t she just supposed to drop off the part? Why was she now standing in an elevator, taking her who knows where? She wiped sweaty palms against her pants, trying to calm her beating heart. Everything would be good; she’d drop off the part and leave. Never to be seen in this building again.
Nothing good came from associating with an intergalactic syndicate. Her morning thoughts echoed through her brain as she forced down a gulp.
The elevator stopped, the shield opening to one side into another large open room, one decorated with red velvets, chocolate wood, and old-world artifacts. A heavy-set desk made from coffee wood stood in the middle. A man sat there, hands folded, concentrated on something on his desk. She stood uncertain of what to do. He had golden hair, emerald green eyes, an old scar running through one eyebrow to the top of his hairline, a straight Roman nose, lush lips, and a mole under his left eye. There was something familiar about him; he was attractive, and as her eyes traveled to his long, slender finger, warmth spread across her face. What was wrong with her? He made no effort to acknowledge her.
She stepped onto the red carpet. “Hello?” her voice came out meek.
“Come,” he motioned with one hand at the chair across from him. He still didn’t look at her. She tentatively made her way to the desk, sat down on the seat, and looked out behind him at the city that loomed underneath the tower. The cheap neon was a sharp contrast to the room within. It could have been taken out of any of the level 7 homes. This room could have cost more than the building it was housed within.
He finally looked up, an expression of anger or disgust painting his face, “Hood off; I like seeing the people I’m talking to.”
She pulled the hood off, his expression softening, “Miss Teacher, who would have thought we would meet like this.”
She blinked, staring at him, her brain processing. His voice was so familiar that her mind traveled back to that drunken day, to the stranger at the bar, and then to him at her home. Heat spread across her cheeks, and she coughed, god dammit. What happened to not associating with the criminals?
“Nice to meet you, boss?” she said, uncertain how to call him.
“Call me Xander.” His smile was large and infectious. "No, call me Xan," he finished.
“I brought the part,” she mumbled. A strong sense of awkwardness muted her confidence.
“That’s great. Leave it on the table, and I’ll look at it later. Instead, let’s walk,” he jumped out of his seat and threw on his jacket without waiting for her reply. By the time she was able to process his words, he was standing by the elevator. Placing the metal part on his desk, she stood up and approached the man. Her mind was empty. He had confused her. She could not decline an offer from the person standing in front of her. Even though she did not know who he was, she could assume that he was a big fish in the Mammon's ranks. Someone in such an expensive room in one of thier headquarters couldn't have been anything but essential. She glanced at the room, maybe more than just important.