"Was it really necessary to call at three in the morning?" A hint of annoyance crept into Faultline's voice.
She and Gregor sat across from the kid in a booth at the Palanquin. The club was closed and empty, seeing as it was still early. The other three members of her crew were still upstairs, fast asleep. She would have been as well, if not for this meeting.
The kid seemed somewhat embarrassed, but that was overshadowed by a different look in her eyes. It was something Faultline had hoped to see, a conviction that hadn't been there when they'd met at the hospital. She nodded in approval.
"Never mind. So, you've decided to run with us after all?"
"With some conditions." Taylor leaned forward as she gave her answer, resting her elbows on the table.
Faultline was surprised at the response but didn't show any outward reaction. She had expected simple agreement – after all, not many fresh triggers had the mind to negotiate their 'employment'. She mentally shifted gears, getting ready for a proper negotiation.
"Hm~, I can hear you out, but can't guarantee anything." Her voice, much like the comment itself, was noncommittal.
Taylor straightened up, taking a brief pause. Evidently, she'd noticed the change in Faultline's tone. Was it the attitude throwing her off, or had she not expected any pushback? A bit naïve of the kid, to think a merc wouldn't want to discuss terms. But, to give credit where it's due, she didn't hesitate in pushing forward, despite the conversation's shifting dynamic.
"In the hospital, you mentioned you have experience with difficult powers. If I'm going to work with you, I'll need your help to learn how to use mine."
Well, that wasn't hard to accommodate. In fact, it was something she'd already been planning to help Taylor with. The fact that the girl had started off with something like this felt like she was trying to get her foot in the door for something much bigger. Still, Faultline decided to play along for now.
"I have an interest in people with them. But you're correct in assuming that's something I can help you with. And it's something I'm willing to throw in for free – call it a sign-on bonus. After all, a cape that doesn't know how to fight would just be a liability on the job."
Taylor winced at that last remark. Curious. Had she already been in – and lost – her first fight? Also, while it was currently very helpful to have her be an open book, it wouldn't do if she were to ever accompany the crew on the negotiation table. It seemed Faultline would have to teach her proper merc decorum as well.
"Right, that's good. The other thing..."
The hesitation said it all really. Faultline could tell she wasn't going to like the next one as much as she did the first.
"I want your help to kill Lung."
Silence. Gregor looked at the crazy kid with incredulity, then at Faultline, his eyes pleading with her to not agree with this madness. Well, seeing as Faultline wasn't currently high or clinically insane, he didn't have to worry about that.
"Look kid, if that one's non-negotiable, then it'd be better if you tried your luck elsewhere. Frankly, you couldn't get us to fight that monster even if you paid us three times the usual rate."
Taylor shook her head. Faultline didn't have time to be confused at the gesture.
"No, that's not what I meant. I only need you find him. I'll fight him myself."
While that was more agreeable, the notion of this kid going up against Lung was no less insane. She'd argue it was more, in fact, seeing as she was planning to go at him alone. It was something to be expected, but Faultline had hoped that she would have been able to temper the kid's need for revenge before it reared its ugly head.
Still, she could work with this. Investigating the ABB was marginally safer than going out looking for a fight. Plus, there would be enough time between now and finding Lung to either change Taylor's mind about hunting down the dragon, or at the very least ensure she could take him down without setting half the city on fire all over again.
If you want something done right, and all that.
"Now that is something we may be able to help you with. Of course, I'll have to bring it up with the rest of the crew. As for payment, I will be taking half your cut from any contracts we take while looking for Lung, for a minimum of ten jobs."
Gregor gave Faultline a brief sideways glance. He knew the price she'd quoted was unfair, basically the triple pay she'd mentioned before. But he knew not to interrupt. This wasn't just a negotiation on the contract's price after all. Taylor's eyes narrowed.
"I'll give you a quarter of my cut until Lung is found, for at least five jobs."
Faultline couldn't stop the smile growing on her face, thankful that she had her mask on. Whether the kid had come in prepared to barter or was simply rolling with the punches, it was good to see she wasn't a pushover and that she could recognise a bad deal when she saw one. It also meant she wasn't so blinded by anger that she'd screw herself over. Faultline didn't need a mad animal on the team.
"A quarter of your cut until Lung is found, for at least five jobs, and you will help out with some personal projects of ours."
And now? Would she take the generous counteroffer, or try her luck with pushing for a bit more?
"A quarter of my cut, for five jobs only, and I'll help with your projects free of charge depending on what they are."
Faultline wanted to laugh. Not out of malice or mockery, but genuine joy. Oh, she'd make a proper merc out of Taylor. The powers and the fighting ability, those you could obtain through other means, but this girl had things that couldn't be trained easily. Wit and ferocity fit for this kind of employment. The little bit of naivety she'd shown earlier could be ironed out.
She hadn't seen this side of Taylor back in the hospital. She couldn't have, buried as it was under fresh grief. And that was still there; there was no hiding the agony in the kid's eyes. But now it seemed to fuel her instead of drowning her. Whether that would be sustainable in the long term remained to be seen. In any case, Faultline would be there if the girl fell apart and surely whoever had taken her in would help as well.
Anyway, that was enough time pretending to think it over. Time to give her verdict.
"Ah, you drive a hard bargain. But you know what? You caught me in a good mood."
More like she was the cause of it, but better not tell her that.
"A quarter of your cut for five jobs. I'll let you know how you can help with those projects I talked about. You said yesterday that some friends are taking care of you, so you won't need to bunk with us. Now, just one more thing left. What's your name?"
The last time Faultline had asked this, Taylor didn't have a proper answer. She hoped the response this time would be different – proper. One final test. Had Taylor prepared for success?
The girl paused, looking uncertain. Faultline waited patiently.
"I...thought about it last night, after our call. Spent some time on my friend's computer, looking at different mythologies and stuff like that. There's a word I kept going back to, that's got a couple of different meanings. It's 'Cinis'."
That tickled some part of Faultline's brain, long forgotten Latin lessons coming to the surface. Gregor seemed to get it, nodding in appreciation.
"The cold ashes left after a fire," he commented, "with a more figurative meaning of 'ruins of a burnt city'. It's a good choice; and I believe it hasn't been taken?" He looked at Faultline.
"I haven't heard of anyone using it," she confirmed, "Well then, is that your final choice? No backsies."
Taylor nodded, standing up.
"My name is Cinis. It's nice to meet you, Faultline. And you, uhm..."
"Gregor the Snail. But teammates can call me Gregor." He extended a hand for her to shake, mirth colouring his voice. Faultline just gave up, letting out a small chuckle. If Taylor – no, it was Cinis. Better get used to the kid's cape name, even in her thoughts.
If Cinis still had her old body, she probably would have been bright red from embarrassment right about now. She shook Gregor's hand, showing not a hint of disgust or reluctance. And that was the 'asshole test' checked off the list. The last one she had for Cinis. For real this time.
Faultline stood up as well, facing the newbie.
"It's good to meet you too, Cinis. I'm looking forward to us working together." They shook hands. Her grip was rough and cold, but steady.
Taylor leaned her head back on the couch, hearing the front door opening and then closing shortly after. She half-sat, half-lay there for want of nothing better to do. The TV was on for background noise, as was becoming a habit for her, and a book was open in her lap. Finding Lacey's crime novel collection had been a pleasant surprise. Even though it wasn't a genre Taylor preferred, it gave her something other than studying for her GED to fill the day and keep her thoughts busy.
"That you, Kurt? Tell me you've got good news," Lacey shouted out, struggling to be heard over the range hood.
"Well, they ain't bad, I can tell you that much," He answered, moving down the hallway by the sound of his footsteps. Taylor, now sufficiently curious, set the book aside and got up, moving to meet with the pair in the kitchen.
She found them both there, Kurt washing his hands in the sink while Lacey adjusted the heat for whatever was cooking. Taylor couldn't tell by the smell alone, but it looked like rice. Maybe risotto?
Kurt gave Taylor a nod as she walked further in, wiping his hands on some paper towel. Lacey turned to face them both, leaning against the counter and picking the conversation back up, "So, what's going on, hon?"
"Wait, wait. What's all this about?" Taylor cut in.
"Ah right, I never told you why I was at the bank that day in the first place," Kurt scratched the back of his neck, "You know how we're going over the mayor's head with the boat graveyard cleanup and getting the feds involved? Part of the process means getting all our ducks in a row and having a proposal ready to submit as soon as they ask for it. The bulk of it needs to be ready by the time we bring this up with them, since the deadlines they tend to give for these things are notoriously tight."
Taylor nodded. She guessed it made sense. If whoever asked for money didn't already have a plan on how to use it, then it probably wasn't worth giving out that money in the first place.
"Part of drafting that proposal is making an estimate on two things. One is how much the cleanup is going to cost. Labor, machinery, transport, fuel, all of that and more. That part the union can handle ourselves. We'll be the ones carrying out the work in the first place after all.
"The other," Kurt continued, "is how much the government can expect to make back from this whole thing. Now, doing this is not strictly necessary, but that's a lot of material that we'll be taking out of the bay and having a buyer lined up to take all of it will go a long way towards sweetening the deal."
He sighed, "And part of that is getting a recognised financial institution to check our numbers and then organise the auction for the rights to all that material. In our case, we're looking to rope Brockton Bay Central into this. Of course, there's going to be a back and forth between them and the union. The bank will want to get paid a percentage of the proceeds, and that's beside the fact they'll likely disagree with the numbers we give them. The bigger the difference between the evaluation and what they sell it for, the bigger their bonus will be. On the other hand, if it ends up selling for much less, they'll have to make up the shortfall."
"So, they lowball," Taylor completed the thought
"Right, that they do," Kurt confirmed, then looked towards Lacey, "Anyway, that's part of the news I was talking about. After the bank closed and I dropped Taylor home, I swung by Smith's place. Turns out, he knows a guy who knows a guy, who knows where the bank manager lives. I talked with Smith again today. He's going to drop by and convince the dude that we managed to meet before the robbery happened, that I passed on our evaluation to him and that he shouldn't try too hard to scam us."
"Kurt!" Lacey sounded mortified. Taylor didn't fully understand why – having no idea who this Smith guy was – but the whole thing sounded sketchy.
"You arranged to have a man mastered, so we could push this project forward sooner? Do you know what'll happen if this gets out? What it'll do to the union?" Lacey seemed disappointed and Taylor could see why. The room almost felt hotter with the rising tension, but she knew the sensation was just in her mind.
"It's a good thing then that only the four of us know about this. You know how Smith's power works; the manager won't even remember the whole ordeal and he'll think being honest with us was his idea in the first place. What's so wrong about skipping all the bullshit and actually getting some work done for once?" Kurt tried to wave off Lacey's concern, though it did little to help.
"You said you'd take care of it. I thought you managed to get a meeting with someone from the bank anyway or that we'd take the issue to someone else that could do the work. Not...this!" Kurt went to reply but Lacey didn't give him a chance.
"And Danny? Do you think he'd be ok with this? Do you, for even one second, believe that he would agree to have a man's mind toyed with to get a project off the ground?"
Kurt stared, his jaw clenched, as Lacey tried to catch her breath.
"My friend is dead", his voice was cold, "This fucking city killed him and didn't give a damn. This shithole spit on him, again and again, but he never gave up on loving the place he grew up in. Danny tried for years to do this by the book, and he kept going even when there was no hope of anything ever changing. I don't have that strength Lacey, and I refuse to let this city keep spitting on the dream of a man I considered my brother."
His fists clenched, knuckles growing white, "I'll have a thousand greedy little shits mastered if it means dragging this city back from the dead."
The three of them stood still when he was done, staring at each other. The suffocating silence stretched on. Finally, Kurt's shoulders slumped, tension leaving his body. He grabbed his jacket from the chair he'd left it on earlier.
"I'll go get some air," he said, leaving the room. Taylor heard the front door open, then slam closed. Lacey startled at the sound, taken out of whatever thoughts were racing through her head. She seemed unsure – whether about herself or something else, Taylor didn't know.
Taylor couldn't help but somewhat agree with Kurt, even though it felt wrong. She had seen her dad fight day in and day out, to not only keep the union afloat but also bring positive change to the Bay. He had always been like that, but it had practically consumed him ever since mom died. Then, everything that happened in December and January only made him more desperate about the Bay's state. Until-
She shoved down the pang of hurt with practised ease. No, if taking these shortcuts meant dad's dream would stay alive, without Kurt and Lacey going down the same self-destructive path Danny did, then she wouldn't shy away from them either. Having another human being mastered did repulse some part of her, but she could bury that part deep down for as long as such acts were necessary.
Besides, a bit of memory manipulation to have someone remember a meeting that didn't happen wouldn't hurt anyone in the end.