A comparably short chunk of time flies by. Everything’s a blur of motivations, consequences, and potential as Pearl and I get ready to deal with our next problem; the coins we took from the krarig. Not just the two we were hired for, either; the broken coins were found in the safe alongside them. It’d be plain stupid to assume the client isn’t at least a little aware of how they got this way.
I flick the two coins–defender and psychic–through my fingers as I wait in line for one of the resort’s all inclusive salons. Hair, nails, makeup, clothes–normally they’d be different places, but this isn’t a normal place. Because there’s only ever five clients who walk into here. And all of us have Worth classes.
A short, brown-skinned woman with henna tattoos all down her arms and bright yellow lipstick and eyeliner pokes her head out of the door and pouts at me. “I told you that you don’t have to wait here. March will be done in half an hour, and then we’ll have space for you.”
“Eh, I’ve got nowhere better to be.'' I shrug and offer her a small, closed-mouth smile. “How’s it coming with Ursula and Noland?”
She sighs and steps out into the sun with me, closing the glass door behind her. “Long, just like we thought it would be. What’s with the difference in treatments? Why’s March getting so much less than the rest of you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “The answer should be really obvious if you think about it.”
“I don’t care about obvious; my brain’s filled with trying to match your outfits for a party and a client I know nothing about.”
“Fair. March isn’t going to the same place as Ursula and I. Noland’s getting made up as a backup in case he needs to make a rush entrance.”
“But… wait… aren’t you just meeting the client today?” The woman pulls a carton of what looks like cigarettes out of her pocket, then pulls out a stick of… chalk? She scribbles something on her hand, and somehow, her skin acts like a chalkboard. Then she closes her hand around it, and the words she wrote just disappear.
“What’re you doing?”
“Oh, this?” She holds up her hand and pulls in her fingers. “Sending some notes to the chalkboard in there. It’s not a really powerful teleportation spell, but I’ve found some good uses for it. Did you change the topic on purpose?”
I shake my head. “No, just got distracted. Yeah, we’re meeting the client today, and the actual party’s not for a little bit. But Ursula said we should prepare this beforehand, and I don’t really have any knowledge about this to contradict her.”
“Oh, it’s all Ursula’s idea? That makes sense; she’ll be able to reproduce this stuff on the day of easily. It’s nice to know she still can’t make the clothes without our help, though; it means we get to keep our cushy jobs for a little while longer!”
The woman giggles, like it’s a joke, but something tells me she’s dead serious. If Ursula and the others trust her for pretty much everything clothing or personal aesthetic-related, then it must be worth keeping her away from everyone else the rest of the time.
“Aren’t you worried your skills will get dull if you sit around so much?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Ah, right, you’re still pretty new here. Well, go try getting a haircut somewhere or have a dress fitted. There’s a good chance one of my simulacrums will help you. I might not use my hands every day, but I hone my skills more than anyone else here. Except for you Worths, of course.”
“Yeah, of course.” I snort in amusement. From what I’ve seen, honing skills is about third on everyone’s list of priorities. “Oh, right, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Sami.” She says and extends a hand. “Yes, no last or middle name. I threw them out when I came here.”
I accept her hand and shake it firmly. “Sami, huh? I’m Shelby. Good to be on a first name basis with you.”
“Likewise.” Sami smiles, then shoulders open the door once more. “Five more minutes and March is done. Wait out there for all I care, just don’t complain to me if you get a little sunburnt.”
“No worries about that. My skin’s weird as hell.” I pat my forearm for emphasis, and Sami shoots me an inquisitive glance as she ducks back into her shop.
I lean in a little to get a better look. March, Ursula, and Nolan are each in a different part, and each of them is being worked on by an almost-clone of Sami. Except the clones have much more washed out colours, pure white eyes, and lines around the joints like a doll would. My immediate assumption is that Sami is some kind of summoner, but if the simulacrums are physical things, something like an artificer might be more applicable.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“She’s weird. Um, I mean in a good way. Like you!” Pearl says from inside of her shell. “It felt like her attention was split fifty different ways while we were talking, but she seemed like she could work perfectly through it. I mean, I could do it with my awareness, but she must be pretty powerful to do it with just what the system gave her.”
Can’t help but agree with that. If she’s actually controlling all the simulacrums at once, then she’s damn impressive. But… she’s using that skill to run a bunch of boutiques and salons. The Preservation wouldn’t allow that for a second, that’s for sure. I guess that’s the draw of the resort, though; freedom to do what you want with your class. Not everyone wants to fight to save the world, after all.
Some people just want to… live. “How’s Fleur doing? Can I… talk to her yet?”
“Nope. It’s been really slow going, but I finally managed to get a real answer out of her. And guess what?” Pearl plants her hands on her hips and beams with pride. “It’s because Fleur took to the changes so well that she wanted to go slowly and do everything perfectly! When she can finally come out, you won’t even recognize her!”
I’m going to choose to take that as a good thing. March has stabilized the krarig stuff for weeks, but she’s been getting antsy about something getting apocalypse-touched any day now. Especially since she’s going back to the other world before the party even happens. I promised her that Fleur will have everything under control but with how long she’s taking to just get out of Pearl’s shell… now I’m not as sure as I need to be.
Before I can start really feeling guilty, the door swings open and out trots March. Instead of the high society looks Ursula, NOland, and I are going to be forced to wear, she’s got incredibly well fitting jeans, a hoodie with unreadable graffiti text over the chest, and bright pink shoes that look unbelievably comfortable. She runs a hand through short-cropped hair and smiles to herself, then walks off towards the main building without even acknowledging me.
“She… didn’t even see me, did she?”
“I don’t think so.” Pearl giggles. “She’s right back in her own world. It must mean she’s really focused on finding something good for our materials, right?”
…Sure. Let’s go with that. Sami sticks her head out the door and motions for me to come inside, and with one last glance at March, I step into the last step of preparation to deal with the client. No more tomorrows. No more ‘when I see her’. It’s all going down just a few hours from now.
As I step out of my shoes and follow Sami towards a rack full of fabrics, I’m almost worried about how not worried I am. Part of me feels like this should be anxiety-worthy. Another part of me is annoyed that I have to do all this bullshit for someone greedy like… uh… damn, I really should’ve memorized the client’s name.
Welp, guess I’ve got one more thing to do after Sami makes me presentable.
----------------------------------------
A file falls into my lap and my eyes flutter open. The sound of scissors and Sami’s pleasant humming comes from right behind me, and little bits of my hair flutter down to the ground around me. I blink away the sleep and rub an eye with one hand while grabbing the file with the other.
“Is this all the info on the client?”
Ursula nods as an amused smile traces over her lips. “Updated with info we pulled from the krarig and from actually digging around a little more. You don’t have to memorize all of it–hell, you know I didn’t–but zone in on some key points to make it look like you did. This client’s going to be a major pain.”
“Gisela Garza. Right.” I mutter to myself as I finally remember the name associated with the face. “Current CEO of Garza Industrial, which is a name you made up for the nameless overlord of all the other corporations she actually owns. Huh, damn, that’s a long list of corporations.”
“Yup. Ninety-five percent of every new and rebuilt effort that came out of Mexico is owned by Garza Industrial. She’s been working her way into south america and the rest of north america slowly but surely, though the Preservation’s been on her ass multiple times.”
I hum in thought as I skim through the rest of the document. It’s not overly long, and most of it is just details of Gisela’s attempts at owning everything that exists, but… there are holes. Lots of holes.
“It says here she has no family. That directly contradicts what we read on the krarig.”
Sami taps the back of my neck. “Tilt your chin up, please.”
I do as she asks as Ursula scratches her chin and looks out the glass door. Hair clippings fall slower than before, and Sami leans in closer to do more detailed work. Most of my haircuts took a long time before this, and even with Sami’s speed, I know I’m going to be in this chair for at least another hour. Maybe I’ll take another nap when Ursula leaves.
“I know it contradicts everything. Plus, there’s the weirdness about how the note was written by two different people. March analyzed the handwriting, and even though it’s almost the exact same, there’s distinct differences.” Ursula leans around Sami and flips my report to a copy of the same one we saw on the krarig. “She thinks someone added the second part after the fact, but not that far after the fact. Maybe an hour later, but it could even be immediately after. Like Gisela handed it off to an assistant or something who finished it.”
An assistant, huh? That’s as good a guess as any, sure, but… someone this ‘important’... why the hell did I save her from the dragonjet? She should’ve been somewhere safe and sound. And why two coins? If I was a betting woman, which I definitely am, I’d say there’s something else here that I’m overlooking.
I try to raise a hand, but Sami gently pushes it back to my lap. “Sisters. Cousins. Body doubles. Some kind of spell or skill. I’m damn sure we’re going to be surprised the second we meet Gisela face to face. And seriously, Ursula, what the hell am I supposed to memorize from here? This is just a list of companies.”
“Don’t really care. Pick a few and drop some hints that you know she’s running them. I can’t wait to see the look on the bitch’s face when she realizes how utterly effed she is.” Ursula grins sadistically and licks her lips. “She messed with the wrong organization, and we’re going to show her that in spades.”