"Kor . . . "

"Mm?"

"S-stop that. I need to do my work."

Vin bit his lip to try to block out the distraction, fingers flying spastically across the console all the while. Kor chuckled, briefly baring his teeth in a grin, and completely ignored the foreman's instructions. Vin shuddered as Kor's tongue ran the length of his ear.

It was getting ridiculous. Vin was as fond of physical interaction as the next guy (. . . okay, that was a lie--but did the next guy know how many diseases could be transmitted through dermal contact alone!), but lately it seemed like that was all Kor wanted. The safety of the city was at stake, and after all the time Vin had spent explaining the eco grid to his older companion, he'd expect him to understand that.

Vin missed a few letters as Kor found one particular spot behind his ear. "Three hours!" he squeaked. "I can take lunch in three hours!" This wouldn't, of course, leave time for actual lunch, which made him sad--he'd missed breakfast when an unspecific "something's wrong!" alarm that turned out to be a loose panel went off--but he was starting to see the immediacy of the situation.

A hand crept over his stomach--always an embarrassing point for Vin, courtesy of too many greasy meals on the run, but somehow it never seemed to bother Kor--and urged him closer. "Not good enough, I'm afraid."

He swallowed, clinging to the console the best he could. "Someone could come in," he stammered, a last-ditch effort more than anything. "Someone could--"

"Let them," said Kor.

Out of arguments, Vin let himself be pulled away. Kor took the shorter man by the chin and turned him around.

To be entirely honest, Vin had never expected this sort of thing, back when he still had thoughts that didn't involve mining, machinery, or eco. (Or politics. Even Vin learned to play office politics with someone like Baron Praxis in charge . . .) Not that he'd expected anyone to find him interesting at all, but on the rare occasions he allowed himself to hope, it had always been, if not particularly a soulmate, someone who at least had a similar set of priorities. Some things were just more important, and he'd believed this even before thousands of lives literally depended on him doing his job.

(Even now, he was giving more thought to the console than Kor--to the shipment that he'd need to check out in a few minutes, to the output levels that had been normal when he'd just been looking at them, but Mar knew those things could change in a second--but Kor didn't seem to notice.)

And at first, Vin had thought that Kor fit this bill. When the old man had first showed up to the power center, an advance of the Underground concerned about how the power grid could be used against them, he'd seemed to know how important it was. And though it was a city secret, Vin was glad to explain to someone else, glad to have someone understand what had taken up the last eight years of his life. He'd missed that, since leaving university.

And Kor had sat and smiled and absorbed everything that Vin had told him . . . which pleased the foreman immensely.

It just was a shame that this understanding had evaporated as soon as Vin had nothing more to tell.

In the future (what future? Kor was probably the only person who'd ever take interest in a shut-in like him), Vin thought, he'd have to try for someone . . . someone who understood obligations. Understood work.

Of course, no one would probably be better. No one was safer.

But as he clung to Kor's frame, he knew he wouldn't do that. He knew he wouldn't let this go, the best he could get, the only one who would ever see him apart from the eco grid.

Except maybe . . .

But that thought fled him as Kor got a hand under his belt, and it was several seconds before he thought to think of anything else, either.

Meanwhile . . .

"How's it riding in the hood, Red?"

Daxter's cocky grin faded as two guards stepped in front of him, cutting off the path. Behind them, Ashelin barked out orders.

"Get out of the area. This is Krimzon Guard business!" She glanced over at Jak. "One of Vin's ecotankers is coming in from the wasteland, but the clearance transmission sounded fishy," she explained. "The driver was scared. We're going to check it out. Just in case."

Jak stepped forward."How can we help?"

Ashelin glared. "I've got it handled."

Then, all eyes turned upward as the tanker in question--a reeling, rocking thing, barely staying in the sky. It crashed into the Bazaar--miraculously missing the Guards, but not for long as an explosion sounded . . .

"Aaaaah! A Metal-Head sneak attack!"

A dozen or more of the beasts poured out of the hull, and the battle was on.