Economical Cross-pollinisation

8/6/2019 Economical Cross-pollinisation

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Peter Ingham© 2010 Economical Cross-pollinisation 2

over a beverage of indeterminate nature and places it in front of the Handler. He picks up the beverage,

and in between the sip motions for the Suit to continue with what he had not started.

IIm... Im.

The Handler breaks off his imbibing and stares at the Suit. Im what? Happy? Sad? Curious? Fine?

Spartacus

My name! The Suit musters through the power of irritation.

I know your name. You think people who sit where youre sittin nowwho ask for what youre askin

forwho send you to meyou think Id go through all that and not know your name? So forget about

names, theyre worthless in this discussion, dead weight, were shedding any unneeded poundage from

this little back and forth. I know all about you, I know your records, who youve worked for, what you do

in your free time, how many times you take a piss a day.

Then what is this about? The Suit gingerly asks.

What I dont know, what Im not privy to, is whats inside here. The Handler points to his skull, and by

the property of social transit, the Suits.

A test?

The Handler sips his unknown beverage, Think of it more as an... evaluation. Tests, you can fail or pass,

theres right and wrong, but this, this is so I can get a feel of the type of person you are, see if Im willin

to go past the headache.

And what... if you are not willing to?




Then we still do business, but I wont be happy, sometimes though, the payoff is too good, and you my

friend are a hot piece of assmonetarily speaking.

Oh... what is it you want to know?

First off, whyd you want out? From what I hear AARMA is where a guy like you should be, theyve had

the muscle-mod market for years, even my boys out frontve got more parts in them than a supped up

rice-rocket.

They are in talks with Nexen-Pharmaceutical for a merger, when it occurs they plan to move me and my

research into stem cells, with the focus downsizing.

So what you want is, to carry on with the nano-tech and mods, free reign right?

The Suit nods.

We got a lot of offers on the table, each one comes with a hefty askin price though, and obviously,

some stipulations.

Stipulations?

Cmon, you know how this works right?

The Suits gaze breaks from the Handler, eyes shifting cautiously about like an inquisitive rodent.

AARMAs not gonna be happy about you jumpin ship, theyre gonna be lookin for you, corporate ninja

sent out to bury your ass and Im not talkin figuratively here. You know Ishimura, guy up north, part of

OWA Unlimited that has their base in Sendai?

Yes, I met him at a conference; he worked in robotics until...




Exactly, until winds caught of his defection and they send that guy into an ocean nosedive by the coast,

corp said he was on some retreat and had an unfortunate accident but that was bull. What happened

was another handlerand Im not gonna name names, bad for moralethey tried gettin him out that

way but they were beat to the punch.

That does not make me feel safer.

It wasnt meant to, youre meant to appreciate the gravity of the situation, not that Im tryin to put

you off, the guys who dealt with him had a leak.

And you can be sure that you do not?

I wouldnt take you on a boat, thats for sure.

The Suit shifts uncomfortably again.

Cmon. The Handler smiles, Only people Ive lost are the ones that didnt pass my evaluation.

The Suits mouth becomes very dry, even the Handlers beverage looks palatable, instead, he opts for a

bottle of mineral water in his pocket, cracks it open, takes a healthy swig.

You still on board? The Handler asks.

As long as it is not a boat.

Good. Whichever one you choose, youre gonna have to lay low for awhile, dont worry well put you

up somewhere nice, have to get you off the island though, while things are set up. Any place take your

fancy?

The Suit wraps his hands around the bottle, a crunch like that of breaking bones preludes his decision.

Err... Masterson Consolidated.




The Handler nods, perhaps a smile even cracks his indifferent facade, in this light, the Suit will never

know. Not bad. Got their base up in Switzerland, kinda ironic theyd have a burgeoning mod

department but time has a habit of whitewashing past conceptions. Plus, theyre offerin a good askin

price.

The Suit leans in over the table, his tie dips into something wet and sticky, but he doesnt seem to

notice, How much?

Hundred mil. He replies, after taking a sip of his beverage for dramatic effect. We get seventy-five

percent of that as a... finders fee. The rest is yours, but Im guessin that youre not in it just for the

money, right?

The Suit shakes his head like a dog might do after returning home after a harsh downpour. No, no, of

course not. Its purely academic.

The Handler chuckles, Its the root of all evil my friend, but those roots run deep into everything, it

supports the tree of life, if you want to think of it that way. He takes another sip. Well get the ball

rollin soon, once they know youre down with it theyll set you up with a space, should have everythin

you want and need. Any idea where you want to lay low, youll have a month to kill while were busy

pullin the strings.

London. The Suit says almost instantaneously.

Man knows what he wants.

I was there last yearfor a conference, though I never had chance to see the city, they had us in and

out of meetings and centres, thats when I first heard about their expansion, people warned me that

their focus would shift...




Well, thats the way its been headin for some time, some corps think that theres no money to be

made in that arena anymore, couldnt be more wrong though if you ask me. Always money to be made

from perfectin the art of killin someone, war aint a trend, its standard protocol for us, and someones

always busy makin a bigger stick.

I suppose you can think of it in that respect... The Suit says, though he feels the Handler has described

it in a manner that leaves linguistic academia in the dust. But I feel

The Handler lays out his palms in a placating manner, I know, its more than black and white for you,

youre a purist right, devoted to the advancement of your field, I get that, I really do, people like you

keep me in business.

I suppose that we do, this must be a burgeoning field...

Growth industry is the word youre lookin for, and trust me, it is. Thing is, youve got these corps

always thinkin about the bigger picture, they forgot about the little guys, the ones responsible for

makin the cogs turn, Without them, theyre redundant. The most important aspect about this little

endeavour is that it never ends, like a game of musical chairs; people dont wanna have nowhere to sit

when the music stops, so they gotta keep movin. Golden age for us, cant complain.

You think that I will move on again?

Couldnt say for sure, guy like you may be just lookin for a right fit, if you find it there then Ill raise a

glass for ya. However, if you find yourself not likin it, then you can let us know. The people that defect

the most are the ones who let the work become them. Its their everythin. Not sayin its bad or nothin,

thats where the breakthroughs happen.

I hope this will be the right fit, I just want to work to an optimum capacity, finish what I have started.




That the reason why youre takin no one with you on this adventure?

The Suit squirms, rubs the back of his neck with a pale hand. There is no one I wish to take.

No family, wife, girlfriend, favourite goldfish?

They are dead... He looks down at the table, at a distorted reflection shadowed by dim glow.

All of them? The Handler curls his lip in incredulity, Even the fish?

My parents, in the outbreak. I do not own a fish.

And a girl, guy, no significant other?

My work is my significant other, if you can equate such academic endeavours with that emotion.

Less work for us, as long as you dont mean some weird cybernetic doll, they can track those things, got

one of our previous clients when he included in the roster last minute.

I assure you there is not.

Dont those corps up in Sendai have those companion houses built for the staff, hear a lot about

scientists gettin infatuated with the girls on tap.

Well, He blushes, causing his skin to appear even paler in the thinning light, AARMA did indeed cater

to such... urges, but I very rarely partook in such things, the others though, they were partial to it. It

happened like you said, one even became enamoured with one of the girls... it was unpleasant.

Whatd they do to him?

One day he simply disappeared, he was a relatively low level employee, not integral to any section of

corporate machinations.




The Handler cocks his head, If thats what they do when someone screws with them Id wonder what

they did to someone who they didnt like. You got some balls, Ill give you that.

Thank you...

You care about what they might want to do?

The Suit inhales deeply, lets it out like a controlled tai-chi motion. To live a life you do not desire, is in

itself a fate worse than death.

The Handler necks his drink, Spoken like a true academic.

So... The Suit starts, takes a quick sip of his water like a drunk trying to hide his addiction, What is the

next stepif you want me to go through with it...

Well. Pushes the empty tumbler away, If youve been following protocol, coverin your tracks, not

makin them twitchy on the top floor, then they should be under the impression that everythins peachy

down your end. You go into work tomorrow, do your job, keep everythin mechanical , so to speak, they

have people hired especially to check on employees of importance, facial expressions, methods of

operation. If they see anythin out of the ordinary, some fluctuation in your daily grind then its game

over my friend, theyll be on your faster than an STD from an unmarked dead-head.

Very vivid explanation...

Clarity is in the job description, this operation is crystal, delicate, you know all about delicacy right,

thats a staple of your work. Think of it like a soft cell nanotech application process, one tiny mistake,

fracture on your end to send things that settle so gently on a knife-edge spiralling outta control.

So... after I finish work? A rivulet of sweat drips down his temple, he wipes it away, not a bead on the

Handler though.




Go home, straight home, dont stop for milk, charge cells, a piss, just get there. Ill lay it out for you, if

youve come this far then they most probably know that somethins up, this shindig aint bulletproof but

that aint a fault on our part. Someone always misses a step in this kind of dance. When youre there,

you wait for a call, dont answer, three ringsnot twonot fourtwo. You hear the rings, five minutes

later therell be a knock at the doorone of our guysanswer it, the guyll get you outta there.

To London?

The Handler nods, Well take you down to Narita, get you on a private charter, appetisers, air hostess,

slingshot you across the ocean to London.

Thats it?

Thats it. The Handler checks his watch, Its late, youve gotta big day tomorrow, go get some sleep.

Then... I passed?

Evaluations done, its just up to you to keep your shit together, you hear me?

The Suit nods furiously, extracts himself from the seat, and thrusts out a hand.

The Handler waves him off, Dont bother, you and I were never here.

The next day the Handler is sat in the bar, he checks his watch, analogue, not digital, blade of light

reflecting off the polished glass surface. He waits for the hand to reach the twelve, his handheld

vibrates, he answers.

He laughs, a guttural snipe of audible resignation intertwined with morose humour, What gave him

away?




He listens.

Should have just stuck to the plan. He puts the handheld down, nods to the heavy at the other side of

the room. A few minutes later, a man, white shirt, black tie, blazer, sits himself down opposite the

Handler.

Minutes pass without words.

Then.

IIm... Im. Starts the Suit.

Economical Cross-pollinisation

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