Sin nodded and a technician walked up from the side, holding up a scanner to his right eye. "Other side," he said with a sneer.
"The cybernetic cortex will suffice. The system reads the right side," Mr. Briggs assured him.
Impressive. Not many facilities could track the minor deviations of cybernetic enhancements. Unfortunately, impressive also meant threatening. Begrudgingly, he looked into the scanner, saw the brief red flare, then pulled off his glove. He had three real fingers remaining on his right hand. They appeared to be enough, since the technician nodded and left the room without a word.
Calmly he pushed his hand back into the soft leather, glancing up to the executives. "Are we done here?"
Mr. Briggs smiled. "I have requested the Ingénue to be brought to us. Is there anything you will need?"
Sin looked over the three men and two women who made up OutLink's board of directors. "Fifteen minutes alone with her. I know I'll be monitored, but I need to assess my client."
"Weare your client, Legate Cassis. She is merely the package."
"I am not a courier service, Mr. Briggs," he countered, struggling not to snap at the executive. "If you want meto protect an individual, then I must assess the individual's movements and mannerisms, without the distraction of her..."—he couldn't stop his lips from twisting in disgust—"superiors."
"That can be arranged," the last woman said. "I'm afraid you'll be sadly disappointed, though."
Sin nodded once. "I expect to be."
All five of them looked up at his words and he smiled lazily. Executives. Spoiled pompous pigs who thought they owned everyone else. Before they could speak again, the door behind him opened, but Sin didn't turn.
What he heard told him all he needed to know: soft shoes, probably slippers, and a dress or other long fabric. Those weren't clothes for function, but rather for luxury. Surprisingly, there was no perfume. Without a word, the Ingénue glided into the room, moved to the side, and knelt supplicant.
"Legate Sinclair Cassis," Mr. Briggs said, "May I introduce Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16."
Finally, he turned and acknowledged her existence. She, however, did not return the favor. Spoiled bitch, he thought, seeing her deep blue robe. A hood and veil were pulled over three-quarters of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. He'd expected her to be fat, or at least plump—most private brains were. Instead, she was extremely lean, her delicate limbs peeking from the edge of the robe.
"Ingénue?" Mr. Briggs asked.
"Yes, sir?" She spoke softly, her voice lyrical but almost bored.
"Legate Sinclair Cassis is being assigned as your handler. Do you understand?"
"I do. Thank you."
He turned back to Sin. "Is there anything else you need, Legate?"
"Fifteen minutes," he said again. "Alone."
"Certainly." Mr. Briggs smiled knowingly. "Her technician will be right outside. Let him know if you need any additional time...or anything else."
"Yeah," he grunted, looking at the girl.
Ok, so she wasn't quite like he expected. He knew about the Ingénue—everyone did by now—but she didn't fit the things he'd heard whispered. To start with, she wasn't making demands. However, she acted like she was already over this minor inconvenience, refusing to even look at him. Then again, knowing how much her time was worth, he was probably costing her millions with this meet and greet.
While the room cleared, he said nothing, waiting for the door to click behind them. Not surprisingly, it locked as well. Now was when most people would make small talk or try to get to know him. This girl? She never moved.
"Ok, Ingénue," he grumbled, walking over to her. "What is it you need from me?"
"I do not have an assignment," she said, not even raising her head.
So he wasn't worth her time, was that what she was implying? Or was she already busy with another one of their big-credit problems?
"And when you do?" he tried.
Her eyes shifted almost imperceptibly, the first human reaction she'd had. "Then I will need you to assist me with completing the data transfer."
He laughed. "Girl, I don't do data." When she refused to respond, he tried again, gruffly. "What does that entail?"
