that.
“You could have left it on,” she said. “I might’ve slept with the brunette a few times, if that’s who I think it is.”
Her comment caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly. “I’ll need materials.”
“Make a list. I’ll get it either before or after I break the arms on the man who gave me these. How many shots will I get out of yours?” Maxine asked, slowly cracking her knuckles.
“Thirty,” I said trying not to let it bother me. I figured I was mostly successful.
“What’s your price, gadgetman?”
“Back when I worked for Promethia, there was a rumor that you’d managed to steal the schematics to the Ultraweapon armor.”
“It turned out to be an old copy, his first generation, and he’d hidden a worm in it that wiped our mainframe, but I made two copies. Auntie’s scientists eventually cleaned it up, but the General didn’t want to invest in something that was already dated. Are you saying you’re interested, Stringel?”
“Call me Cal,” I said. “And yes, I am. The schematics and fifty grand.”
With the old drawings, my knowledge of the improvements since, and my own, ideas it would shave months, if not a full year, off my design.
“The schematics and fifteen grand.”
“Twenty grand seems more in the neighborhood of what I was thinking; besides you can afford it.”
“Wrong neighborhood, Cal,” she said and smirked. “Just because I can afford it doesn’t mean that I’m willing to pay it. Just for that, I’m lowering my offer to schematics and ten grand.”
“Fine!” I said, admitting defeat. “Deal.”
“Don’t worry, Sweetpea,” she said, sounding haughty. “I deal with your type all the time.”
“All right, give me a couple of minutes to put a list together.” I didn’t like my nose being rubbed in it.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
I pointed down the hallway. “First opening on the right, Bobby’s got the port-a-potties there.”
“You’re kidding me!”
“I wish I was,” I said. “The base is a work in progress, very slow progress. We’re still a month away from running water. If you make sure Bobby gets a nice bonus, your future visits will include more amenities.”
“Wonderful,” she deadpanned and raced off in search of bladder relief as I pondered how having the runs would cause problems for someone moving at superhuman speeds. The engineer in me wondered how fast her shit would move.
Sighing, I scooped up a pad of paper and a pen, and began to scribble whatever I thought I might need in order to prevent my own set of broken bones. Naturally, I threw in some of the things I needed, which had nothing to do with her equipment. She was lowballing me after all and I had to make up the margin one way or another.
We’re both criminals after all.
• • •
“Nice work, Cal,” Maxine said as I watched her quick draw with four of the pistols. I’d made a favorable impression on her when I took the time to measure her hand to make certain the grips were sized for her.
It had taken me a week longer than I’d initially promised, but the design was pretty slick.
“Pulse action, dual energy emitters,” I said watching her toast a pair of targets. “It cuts down on your range, and you’ll lose most of your punch over twenty-five yards, but they’ll give you a greater rate of fire, and I’m guessing you’re no stranger to hit and run tactics. Much better than the tinkertoys you were using. The microcells in them are warrantied for fifty recharges, but I’d recommend replacing them before then.”
“Considering you’re the supplier, I’m guessing you would,” she said with a smirk. “Good stuff though; too bad you’re so damned slow.”
“I don’t have your powers,” I said, once again trying to hide my jealousy. If I did, Bobby’s base and my suit would be done already—except I probably couldn’t use a suit then—but I wasn’t about to rain on my own little parade.
“It’s not all fun and games,”
“You could have left it on,” she said. “I might’ve slept with the brunette a few times, if that’s who I think it is.”
Her comment caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly. “I’ll need materials.”
“Make a list. I’ll get it either before or after I break the arms on the man who gave me these. How many shots will I get out of yours?” Maxine asked, slowly cracking her knuckles.
“Thirty,” I said trying not to let it bother me. I figured I was mostly successful.
“What’s your price, gadgetman?”
“Back when I worked for Promethia, there was a rumor that you’d managed to steal the schematics to the Ultraweapon armor.”
“It turned out to be an old copy, his first generation, and he’d hidden a worm in it that wiped our mainframe, but I made two copies. Auntie’s scientists eventually cleaned it up, but the General didn’t want to invest in something that was already dated. Are you saying you’re interested, Stringel?”
“Call me Cal,” I said. “And yes, I am. The schematics and fifty grand.”
With the old drawings, my knowledge of the improvements since, and my own, ideas it would shave months, if not a full year, off my design.
“The schematics and fifteen grand.”
“Twenty grand seems more in the neighborhood of what I was thinking; besides you can afford it.”
“Wrong neighborhood, Cal,” she said and smirked. “Just because I can afford it doesn’t mean that I’m willing to pay it. Just for that, I’m lowering my offer to schematics and ten grand.”
“Fine!” I said, admitting defeat. “Deal.”
“Don’t worry, Sweetpea,” she said, sounding haughty. “I deal with your type all the time.”
“All right, give me a couple of minutes to put a list together.” I didn’t like my nose being rubbed in it.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
I pointed down the hallway. “First opening on the right, Bobby’s got the port-a-potties there.”
“You’re kidding me!”
“I wish I was,” I said. “The base is a work in progress, very slow progress. We’re still a month away from running water. If you make sure Bobby gets a nice bonus, your future visits will include more amenities.”
“Wonderful,” she deadpanned and raced off in search of bladder relief as I pondered how having the runs would cause problems for someone moving at superhuman speeds. The engineer in me wondered how fast her shit would move.
Sighing, I scooped up a pad of paper and a pen, and began to scribble whatever I thought I might need in order to prevent my own set of broken bones. Naturally, I threw in some of the things I needed, which had nothing to do with her equipment. She was lowballing me after all and I had to make up the margin one way or another.
We’re both criminals after all.
• • •
“Nice work, Cal,” Maxine said as I watched her quick draw with four of the pistols. I’d made a favorable impression on her when I took the time to measure her hand to make certain the grips were sized for her.
It had taken me a week longer than I’d initially promised, but the design was pretty slick.
“Pulse action, dual energy emitters,” I said watching her toast a pair of targets. “It cuts down on your range, and you’ll lose most of your punch over twenty-five yards, but they’ll give you a greater rate of fire, and I’m guessing you’re no stranger to hit and run tactics. Much better than the tinkertoys you were using. The microcells in them are warrantied for fifty recharges, but I’d recommend replacing them before then.”
“Considering you’re the supplier, I’m guessing you would,” she said with a smirk. “Good stuff though; too bad you’re so damned slow.”
“I don’t have your powers,” I said, once again trying to hide my jealousy. If I did, Bobby’s base and my suit would be done already—except I probably couldn’t use a suit then—but I wasn’t about to rain on my own little parade.
“It’s not all fun and games,”
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