‘I’d clap if I had use of both arms,’ said the Monk, who Vic was beginning to like and think of in relation to his egg-fertilising wand.
‘We want the bridge tech,’ Elite Scab said.
‘Who wouldn’t?’ the guide said. ‘But we do not have it.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ the Monk said.
‘We would be prepared to offer Pangea membership in the Consortium, a senior seat on the board.’
‘We are not interested,’ the guide said. ‘And we have not acquired bridge technology since you last mentioned it a moment ago.’
This is weird, Vic thought. It was as if the Consortium was showing its hand. They had sent an Elite out with little to negotiate with. It was almost as if the Elite had been sent here to be humiliated.
‘You realise that if Pangea gains unrestricted access to bridge tech then there will have to be a military response from the Consortium systems.’
‘Well yes, and we still don’t have access to it.’
‘Don’t you get tired of being prisoners of the Church?’ Elite Scab asked.
‘You are asking the wrong people. We have all we need here.’
‘Until you’ve sucked this world dry.’
The guide said nothing.
‘You’re the Elder, aren’t you?’ Vic asked the translucent glowing man. He smiled.
‘The essence of the Lord of Pangea is contained within the cities and we are all linked. We are one.’
‘So everyone on Pangea is aware of this conversation?’ Scab and Elite Scab asked at the same time. The Elder nodded. Both looked less than pleased.
‘Fucking amateurs,’ Elite Scab muttered.
‘You’re thinking of it in terms of millions of individuals knowing your secrets, but we are as one and can be discreet when we choose. Now, you have delivered your message, though I’m not sure what it was. Please leave.’
Elite Scab’s features were unreadable as he walked to the wall, Scab following every move. Elite Scab started to vibrate – it looked like he went out of phase – and then he just pushed through the wall and out into the freezing skies of Pangea. The Elder cried out again, and the room seemed to flinch. Elite Scab was hovering outside the transparent flesh. He turned to look at them, then the exotic matter of his armour leaked through his skin like oil. The black glass material formed into its coffin-like configuration and he disappeared into the sky.
‘Well, he seemed nice,’ Vic muttered. When he looked up he found Scab looking at him. Both were then distracted by a cracking noise and a shout of pain. They turned to the Monk, who had just put her arm back into place. It looked like it was starting to heal. Scab’s face was returning to its normal dimensions as well, though it was still covered in drying blood.
‘I’m a little confused as to who you’re working for,’ the Elder said to Scab. ‘Because if you’re not working for Consortium interests…’
‘Then you would be the next most likely client,’ the Monk said as she sat down, grimacing slightly.
‘Though there are competing interests in the Consortium,’ the Elder said.
‘Not for something like this,’ Scab pointed out.
‘Do you have a name?’ Vic asked the Monk, feeling slightly smitten.
‘Yes. Who doesn’t?’ she answered irritably.
‘What are you doing?’ Scab asked her.
‘What does it look like?’ There was pain written across her face, presumably from the healing process. ‘I’ve worked quite hard to get to the point where I can have a reasonable conversation with you.’
‘How did you find us? I put a week-long block on the information we got from Pythia.’
‘I guessed,’ the Monk said.
‘You’re lying,’ Scab said with certainty.
‘Well, let me just explain to you all the secrets of my trade,’ she offered sarcastically.
‘We have business to discuss with the Elder here. We can’t do it with you here. Either leave or…’
‘What?’ Vic asked. ‘Get scolded by petulant psychopaths? The Living Cities have made it clear that not even Elite arseholes, no offence, are getting to push people around.’
‘Mr Matto is right. It seems to require a great deal of effort and indeed the death of some of our people just to get you to have a reasonable discussion.’
‘There’s nothing to discuss, surely?’ Scab said irritably, wishing that he could smoke. ‘We want whatever is in the cocoon because it could break the Church’s monopoly on bridge travel, and they want to stop us from doing that.’
‘Actually, we want to help you steal it,’ the Monk said. She was smiling. The Elder let out a sigh.
‘You’re very pretty,’ Vic said. ‘How do you feel about ’sects?’
‘Sex?’
‘’Sects, insects. Cross-species copulation?’
‘Why?’ Scab asked.
‘Because the Absolute having access to the cocoon is as abhorrent to us as it is to you. So once we’ve stolen it, then we can start screwing each other over to see who ends up with it.’
‘Bit of a risk for you?’ Scab said, but Vic could tell he was warming to the plan. There was even the trace of a smile in the slightly upturned corner of his mouth, though Vic had to magnify his optics to see that.
‘Less of a risk than the Absolute having it. Besides, you’re overconfident to the point of having a god complex; I don’t see any huge problem in screwing you over.’
Now Scab was smiling.
‘Back off, Scab. I saw her first,’ Vic said, much to everyone’s confusion, before turning to the Monk. ‘You’re very pretty. We should totally have sex.’
‘And with reasonable conversation comes romance,’ the Elder said.
‘I’ve never had sex with an insect before. I wouldn’t even know where to begin,’ the Monk said, sounding a little surprised. She turned back to Scab. ‘Unless you want to be reasonable. We’ll pay you twice what your current employer is. You might even end up in credit.’
‘The money’s abstract now.’
‘Let’s not be too hasty,’ Vic said. ‘And it’s okay. I have immersions which would help explain,’ he said to the Monk.
‘Explain what?’ the Monk asked, confused.
‘Sex with insects.’ Vic was a little hurt that she didn’t seem to be paying attention.
‘Well, romance of a sort,’ the Elder observed.
‘Why didn’t you open with that?’ Scab asked.
‘Offers of insect sex?’ the Monk asked, more confused.
‘I would be up for that,’ Vic said. The Monk glanced at him distractedly.
‘The offer to work together and then I kill you and take what I want anyway,’ Scab said, explaining the deal from his perspective.
‘Like she had time!’ Vic cried, trying to appear gallant in front of his new interest. ‘Every time she, or the other guy, the one on Arclight, tried to talk to you, you responded with attempted and actual murder!’
‘So you’re not interested in the money then?’ the Monk asked Scab.
‘You can’t pay me what I’ve been offered,’ Scab said.
The Monk studied him. ‘I believe you. On Arclight we had hoped that familiarity and a biological link would be enough to open negotiations with you.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Vic asked suspiciously. ‘Scab, what’s she talking about?’ But Scab ignored the question and just stared at the Monk. She seemed surprised.
‘Did he not tell you that it was his son he killed in the Polyhedron?’ the Monk asked Vic.
Vic turned to stare at Scab, whose face was impassive underneath the crust of dried blood.