Her phone faded into smoke before she could press the speed dial. “Hey-- I’m responsible for the equipment issued to me, you know.”
Drifter tipped his hat. “Sorry Missy, but I’d just as soon you didn’t call in the calvary just yet.” The rain fell hard enough for the water to bounce off the concrete, but no drops hit either of them.
Katrina noticed that her clothes felt dry, and smelled hot, like they’d baked in the desert sun. “Drifter, I’m under standing orders to call in any contact with a type seven mystic. The Office of Superbeing Relations can provide -- ”
“And I thought y’all had me at class six. Here’s the thing, Missy -- you make that call, and suddenly I’m not dealing with you, but rather a whole team of folks, pokin and probin and asking me what I had for breakfast, and my visions have me meeting you, not a welcoming committee.’”
The last known encounter with Drifter Katrina could remember was when Gravitar had used her control over gravity to uproot Washington DC and lift it hundreds of feet into the air. Drifter had summoned thousands of spectral hands from the ground and catch the nation’s capital before she could make good on her threat to smash it to the ground. And while PRIMUS had insisted that the operation remain in their jurisdiction, they’d shared enough information to allow Project HERMES to upgrade their assessment of Drifter from a category six to a category seven mystic, and the conjecture around Drifters powers and origins ran rampant. Doctor White and Doctor Black however, had seemed only mildly impressed and largely unconcerned, as if Drifter standing toe to toe with one of the most powerful villains ever documented was just how he rolled.
And if a power like that didn’t want her reporting in, there was little she could do about it.
So much for vacation. “Fine. No calls. So how can I help you, Drifter?”
Drifter responded with a thoughtful shrug, his gaze most certainly elsewhere. “Not sure. I’m always where I need to be, but sometimes not clear as to the why of the matter. I might be here just to sort out something out of place. I might be here to help you. Can’t fathom which yet.”
“I don’t need your help,” Katrina said slowly until realization hit, “but know someone who does. She’s an Asgardian Raven who ate Odin’s Eye. She hasn’t been well, and she can’t talk to ravens any more."
“A raven that ate Odin’s eye sounds a mite sideways from the Asgard directly connected to this here’n’now. Is that the Asgard you destroyed?”
Katrina felt hit in the pit of her stomach. “Destroyed? I thought Asgard was supposed to be renewed after Ragnorok.”
Drifter nodded. “So the prophecy goes, but even Ragnarok ends with something left to begin with. Last time I was there, there was nothing living, man, beast, nor god. I was there when that Ygg tree of theirs finally broke apart, and it all fell away to nothing.”
“Yggdrasil holds up worlds--What --It fell apart?”
“Fell, falls, falling, Leaving behind empty. All that’s left is the Valravn and the Valkyrja.”
“The Valkyrja has turned to stone,” Katrina said.
“Figures,” Drifter said, scratching at his jaw. “Demigods without a purpose to rally round tend to fade away or turn to sand.”
Katrina felt hot barbs in her stomach as she remembered the manifest from Germany. The barrow contained eight boulders, twenty two tons of sand. Valkyrja had been mobile then, towering even above the U-80 power suits, whip-thin and terrible, looking as she’d been carved out of the roots of Yggdrasil itself. The axe gripped in her hand was etched bent, but shimmered with barely-restrained fury. Just the sight of her put the Berlin field office on high alert, scrambling for UNITY.
But three months after Aesgard, Valkyrja started brooding in her containment. Even Valravn, so eager to embrace a modern world communing with the world’s ravens, became withdrawn and quiet.
Then the ravens left Valravn’s aerie at the top of UNTIL Headquarters, and Valravn left to follow them to Ravenswood. By then, Valkyrja had become encrusted with stone. I destroyed them on the plains of Aegard. The rest was just time. “Please help me help them.”
“Give a demigod a new purpose? You might as well try to hold a river back with your bare hands. The Valkyrja gathered the battlefield dead and took them to Valhalla. But Valhalla -- at least her Valhalla -- is gone”
“But Valravn didn’t have a purpose. She just --” Katrina stumbled over her thoughts, “She says Odin imprisoned them in something called Ymir’s Heart to make the world forget the Valkyrja and herself.”
“Ymir’s dead,” Drifter said. “Least last I checked.”
“So Odin invoked a dead god?”
“If what she says is true, that would be the gist. But Odin n’ his kin killed Ymir, drowned the rest of Ymir’s people in his blood, and made the world out of his body. That, n’ being Odin’s granddad creates a powerful connection.”
“And a powerful prison, I’d bet. There were there a really long time until some hikers set them free.”
“Now hold on a second. Hikers opened up a prison like that?” Drifter asked.
“There was some sort of incantation. Carved outside the barrow. I guess reading it opened the prison up.”
“Seems a might odd to work so hard to build a prison only to hang the key right outside the door.”
A lot of it seemed odd, and just gets odder. “Can you at least try to help them? Please, just fucking try -- you said you might be here to help me, and I never wanted any of this bullshit magic hoo-ha. Help me by helping them.”
Katrina felt the weight in Drifter’s sigh. “Alright, Missy. I’ll make no promises, but I’ll give it a looksee. Provided, of course, you hand over Lucille, there.” Drifter pointed to the bat.
“Lucille?” Katrina asked as she flipped it around, presenting the handle sideways. Water dripped off the barbs as they glinted in the streetlight.
“Not the name I’d have chosen, but it was named long before you or I got hands on it. I’ll make sure it gets where it needs to go and then take a look at your bird friend. I’m not sure what I can do, but I get the idea we’re not done yet, though, Pyrrhic Victory.”
The name filled Katrina’s veins with ice. “That’s not my name!” Katrina snapped, but Drifter was already gone and the rain found her, splattering against her face, her fists clenched tight until her nails bit into her palms.
Before that, her assessment -- considering that PRIMUS thought they’d confiscated an experimental super soldier bought by ARGENT on the black market after the fall of the Soviet Union -- was a disappointment. Subject Mirinova exhibits high levels of human strength, speed, and hand-eye coordination. She is a quick study and should do well with proper training. Subject is non-responsive to Cyberline. So much for getting an Avenger out of Stalingrad’s mistake. They’d tested her with at least six different Cyberline batches before they’d finally given up.
Katrina, when she’d learned enough English to read the report ,hadn’t understood enough to know what an Avenger was. But she did know that they wanted her to fight and kill for them, so at the time, PRIMUS seemed like another force, like ARGENT. Thank God, PRIMUS turned out to be nothing like ARGENT.
A flash of rain-soaked paper on the ground caught her attention. The northern end of Lesserman enjoyed the benefits of new streetlights and urban renewal, thought the last attempt at gentrification had been half hearted at best; the bollards of wildflowers down the parkway were overgrown with dark tangles of weeds. Katrina studied the playbill for a second before scraping it up with the toe of her boot. Playbills on the ground weren’t uncommon, but this playbill -- for Hot Tropic ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ in North Town, felt strategic. Lesserman was a residential area, far from most foot traffic, and North town was too far away for someone to just decide to walk.
Another bill for a club just as savory sat rain-battered at the bottom of a shallow puddle, followed by another, then more criss-crossing over each other until the sidewalk was plastered with topless and fully nude women forming a path to the tenement building up the street.
“Seems to be a might poor marketing campaign,” Drifter said.
“Depends on what you’re marketing,” Katrina replied, as she kneeled down to pry up another playbill.
“Seems t’me what they’re sellin’ is pretty clear, but,” His red gaze lanced toward the tenement building, “That building there is just reekin’ with fear.”
“You would be correct,” Katrina said. “And I’m pretty sure someone put these bills to make them even more afraid.”
“Missy, I know what you think is going on here is important, but it seems like you’ve got more pressing concerns than the poor placement of some girlie bar ads.”
Katrina pinched the bridge of her nose as she stood. “Drifter--”
“Seems you’re fixin’ to disagree, and I get you’re a girl with a big heart, but you have to understand -- there are billions of lives across the universe playing through scenes like this. Someone -- and sometimes that someone is you -- has to make sure there’s even a universe for this all to play out in.”
“I’m not going to argue with you Drifter…”
“And yet, that is exactly what you’re fixin’ to do…”
“I don’t even know how to argue with someone like you, but first, that bat you returned had a name. So do I. It's not Missy, Lassie, Pumpkin, or Buckaroo.”
Drifter’s frown deepened as he shifted. “I ain’t never said Buckaroo. Ever.”
“I’m Sergeant Katrina Mirinova of UNTIL OSR.”
“Well Sergeant, I’m not much the salutin’ type.”
“I’m not asking you to. You can just call me Katrina, or Kat, or I will start calling you Buckaroo. And this here,” Katrina pointed down the block to the tenement building, “also has a name -- the Lesserman Women’s Shelter -- and its pretty rare they’re not close to or completely full of women trying to get out of a bad situation, and this,” She wadded up a flyer in her hand until water oozed between her fingers, “is just some asshole’s way of trying to get under their skins.”
“Seems that fella needs a different hobby.”
“No kidding. Most of the irate exes just try to make them come back, sometimes by force. That’s -- manageable. But the thing is--”
Drifter grunted as he plucked at a flyer. “Is what?”
“--the thing is, I have business in there, and I’d just as soon you didn’t come with me.” Katrina said, full well knowing she couldn’t stop a category seven mystic if she tried. Maybe before, but now --
Drifter looked to the house for a long moment, his jaw set. “Alright Kat. Makes sense, but I gotta keep some eye on you, since my visions say I should, but no sense’n makin’ a bad situation worse.”
Katrina nodded as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Thanks. I know it might not seem like much, from the perspective of the universe and all, but I can’t help wondering what good is saving the universe for people to live in when they have to live in fear.”
Drifter's gaze remained on Katrina for a long moment. Katrina could only match the stare. Project HERMES had classified Dr. White and Dr. Black as class five mystics. An entire team spent all their time trying to make their explanations comprehensible. Drifter was -- something else entirely.
Drifter looked away as if she had disappeared, the light from his eye caught strings of mist. Some of them seemed to recoil from the light. As he walked away, the jingle of Drifter’s spurs echoed along the street with each step, dwindling down Lesserman street. The steps paused, and the glow of that eye was on her, once again and her skin crawled. “Don’t forget you’ve got a noodle date with Lo-Pan. It’d be useful to know what that snake is up to.”
Katrina approached the tenement when Drifter’s gaze had faded away, counting the steps until she was intercepted. The motion sensitive lights came on at a hundred feet, and the camera lights at fifty. Scarcely a dozen feet before the steps movement by the side of the building that activated the lights on the far wall. But those lights lights were blotted out as a form at least twice Katrina’s height slid around the corner. Her head was smooth and oblong with her snout dominated by black with white patches around her eyes. The overall effect would have made her look like a gigantic panda, if not for the fin that protruded from her back. No one would have mistaken Acro for human.
“State your business here,” She huffed out between rows of teeth, then bent down to look closer. “Sergeant, I didn’t know it was you. I was just trying to catch the jerkoff leaving the ads.”
“Catch them and...?” Katherine asked. On Monster Island, disagreements were settled in tooth and claw. Here, those type of settlements had earned Acro a tour of the Millenium City judicial system. Katrina stared down the hybrid Orca’s shrug.
“And I’d tell them not to litter.”
“Tell?”
“Just tell. But what kind of asshole puts strip-club ads in front of a women’s shelter?”
Kat answered with her own shrug. “The kind you remind not to litter. Make sure to get his height, general build, hair length and hair color for the police. Has Surhoff gone over with you how to get a good description of a human?”
“No. She’s been kinda stuck on the ‘don’t him them’ part.”
“Its an important part. Unless they hit you first. Then make sure you got witnesses. Even then, people break, so telling is good enough -- provided they stick around long enough for you to actually say anything.”
Acro smiled -- all teeth. Katrina wondered of Moreau had added some shark to his hybrid killer whale. Acro; Orca. That damned bat had a better name. Would he have been impressed she swam through both fresh and salt water to get to Millenium City? So many of the Moreau refugees hadn’t even had names. I’m FourteeSevenTwelve. I’m TrialSeven.
“Most run away before I can get a word out. What brings you here, Sergeant?”
“Just checking in with Ms. Surhoff before going on vacation.”
Acro took out a phone as large as a tablet, the broad oval of her face uplit by its glow. “Well damn. I guess I lose the pool. Most of us bet you never took a vacation. Still, late night for UNTIL business, isn’t it?”
“Late night to for you to be standing out in the rain. Guess we do what we have to.”
Acro stood straighter to look up at the clouds. Fully upright, she could almost touch the streetlamp. “Eh, I don’t mind the rain. Slept in worse when I first got here. I got you to thank for that.”
“You got you to thank for that. Don’t stay out too late.”
Drifter tipped his hat. “Sorry Missy, but I’d just as soon you didn’t call in the calvary just yet.” The rain fell hard enough for the water to bounce off the concrete, but no drops hit either of them.
Katrina noticed that her clothes felt dry, and smelled hot, like they’d baked in the desert sun. “Drifter, I’m under standing orders to call in any contact with a type seven mystic. The Office of Superbeing Relations can provide -- ”
“And I thought y’all had me at class six. Here’s the thing, Missy -- you make that call, and suddenly I’m not dealing with you, but rather a whole team of folks, pokin and probin and asking me what I had for breakfast, and my visions have me meeting you, not a welcoming committee.’”
The last known encounter with Drifter Katrina could remember was when Gravitar had used her control over gravity to uproot Washington DC and lift it hundreds of feet into the air. Drifter had summoned thousands of spectral hands from the ground and catch the nation’s capital before she could make good on her threat to smash it to the ground. And while PRIMUS had insisted that the operation remain in their jurisdiction, they’d shared enough information to allow Project HERMES to upgrade their assessment of Drifter from a category six to a category seven mystic, and the conjecture around Drifters powers and origins ran rampant. Doctor White and Doctor Black however, had seemed only mildly impressed and largely unconcerned, as if Drifter standing toe to toe with one of the most powerful villains ever documented was just how he rolled.
And if a power like that didn’t want her reporting in, there was little she could do about it.
So much for vacation. “Fine. No calls. So how can I help you, Drifter?”
Drifter responded with a thoughtful shrug, his gaze most certainly elsewhere. “Not sure. I’m always where I need to be, but sometimes not clear as to the why of the matter. I might be here just to sort out something out of place. I might be here to help you. Can’t fathom which yet.”
“I don’t need your help,” Katrina said slowly until realization hit, “but know someone who does. She’s an Asgardian Raven who ate Odin’s Eye. She hasn’t been well, and she can’t talk to ravens any more."
“A raven that ate Odin’s eye sounds a mite sideways from the Asgard directly connected to this here’n’now. Is that the Asgard you destroyed?”
Katrina felt hit in the pit of her stomach. “Destroyed? I thought Asgard was supposed to be renewed after Ragnorok.”
Drifter nodded. “So the prophecy goes, but even Ragnarok ends with something left to begin with. Last time I was there, there was nothing living, man, beast, nor god. I was there when that Ygg tree of theirs finally broke apart, and it all fell away to nothing.”
“Yggdrasil holds up worlds--What --It fell apart?”
“Fell, falls, falling, Leaving behind empty. All that’s left is the Valravn and the Valkyrja.”
“The Valkyrja has turned to stone,” Katrina said.
“Figures,” Drifter said, scratching at his jaw. “Demigods without a purpose to rally round tend to fade away or turn to sand.”
Katrina felt hot barbs in her stomach as she remembered the manifest from Germany. The barrow contained eight boulders, twenty two tons of sand. Valkyrja had been mobile then, towering even above the U-80 power suits, whip-thin and terrible, looking as she’d been carved out of the roots of Yggdrasil itself. The axe gripped in her hand was etched bent, but shimmered with barely-restrained fury. Just the sight of her put the Berlin field office on high alert, scrambling for UNITY.
But three months after Aesgard, Valkyrja started brooding in her containment. Even Valravn, so eager to embrace a modern world communing with the world’s ravens, became withdrawn and quiet.
Then the ravens left Valravn’s aerie at the top of UNTIL Headquarters, and Valravn left to follow them to Ravenswood. By then, Valkyrja had become encrusted with stone. I destroyed them on the plains of Aegard. The rest was just time. “Please help me help them.”
“Give a demigod a new purpose? You might as well try to hold a river back with your bare hands. The Valkyrja gathered the battlefield dead and took them to Valhalla. But Valhalla -- at least her Valhalla -- is gone”
“But Valravn didn’t have a purpose. She just --” Katrina stumbled over her thoughts, “She says Odin imprisoned them in something called Ymir’s Heart to make the world forget the Valkyrja and herself.”
“Ymir’s dead,” Drifter said. “Least last I checked.”
“So Odin invoked a dead god?”
“If what she says is true, that would be the gist. But Odin n’ his kin killed Ymir, drowned the rest of Ymir’s people in his blood, and made the world out of his body. That, n’ being Odin’s granddad creates a powerful connection.”
“And a powerful prison, I’d bet. There were there a really long time until some hikers set them free.”
“Now hold on a second. Hikers opened up a prison like that?” Drifter asked.
“There was some sort of incantation. Carved outside the barrow. I guess reading it opened the prison up.”
“Seems a might odd to work so hard to build a prison only to hang the key right outside the door.”
A lot of it seemed odd, and just gets odder. “Can you at least try to help them? Please, just fucking try -- you said you might be here to help me, and I never wanted any of this bullshit magic hoo-ha. Help me by helping them.”
Katrina felt the weight in Drifter’s sigh. “Alright, Missy. I’ll make no promises, but I’ll give it a looksee. Provided, of course, you hand over Lucille, there.” Drifter pointed to the bat.
“Lucille?” Katrina asked as she flipped it around, presenting the handle sideways. Water dripped off the barbs as they glinted in the streetlight.
“Not the name I’d have chosen, but it was named long before you or I got hands on it. I’ll make sure it gets where it needs to go and then take a look at your bird friend. I’m not sure what I can do, but I get the idea we’re not done yet, though, Pyrrhic Victory.”
The name filled Katrina’s veins with ice. “That’s not my name!” Katrina snapped, but Drifter was already gone and the rain found her, splattering against her face, her fists clenched tight until her nails bit into her palms.
*
Katrina’s thoughts whirled as she stalked toward Lesserman Ave. Drifter said Aesgard -- an Asgard connected to Valravn and Valkyrja -- was gone. Damn Destroyer’s ego for thinking he could control what UNTIL had worked so hard to contain. At least UNTIL had considered a containment strategy; PRIMUS wasn’t sure what they had and only suspected there was more to her after they’d stationed her at Greenskin. Before that, her assessment -- considering that PRIMUS thought they’d confiscated an experimental super soldier bought by ARGENT on the black market after the fall of the Soviet Union -- was a disappointment. Subject Mirinova exhibits high levels of human strength, speed, and hand-eye coordination. She is a quick study and should do well with proper training. Subject is non-responsive to Cyberline. So much for getting an Avenger out of Stalingrad’s mistake. They’d tested her with at least six different Cyberline batches before they’d finally given up.
Katrina, when she’d learned enough English to read the report ,hadn’t understood enough to know what an Avenger was. But she did know that they wanted her to fight and kill for them, so at the time, PRIMUS seemed like another force, like ARGENT. Thank God, PRIMUS turned out to be nothing like ARGENT.
A flash of rain-soaked paper on the ground caught her attention. The northern end of Lesserman enjoyed the benefits of new streetlights and urban renewal, thought the last attempt at gentrification had been half hearted at best; the bollards of wildflowers down the parkway were overgrown with dark tangles of weeds. Katrina studied the playbill for a second before scraping it up with the toe of her boot. Playbills on the ground weren’t uncommon, but this playbill -- for Hot Tropic ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ in North Town, felt strategic. Lesserman was a residential area, far from most foot traffic, and North town was too far away for someone to just decide to walk.
Another bill for a club just as savory sat rain-battered at the bottom of a shallow puddle, followed by another, then more criss-crossing over each other until the sidewalk was plastered with topless and fully nude women forming a path to the tenement building up the street.
“Seems to be a might poor marketing campaign,” Drifter said.
“Depends on what you’re marketing,” Katrina replied, as she kneeled down to pry up another playbill.
“Seems t’me what they’re sellin’ is pretty clear, but,” His red gaze lanced toward the tenement building, “That building there is just reekin’ with fear.”
“You would be correct,” Katrina said. “And I’m pretty sure someone put these bills to make them even more afraid.”
“Missy, I know what you think is going on here is important, but it seems like you’ve got more pressing concerns than the poor placement of some girlie bar ads.”
Katrina pinched the bridge of her nose as she stood. “Drifter--”
“Seems you’re fixin’ to disagree, and I get you’re a girl with a big heart, but you have to understand -- there are billions of lives across the universe playing through scenes like this. Someone -- and sometimes that someone is you -- has to make sure there’s even a universe for this all to play out in.”
“I’m not going to argue with you Drifter…”
“And yet, that is exactly what you’re fixin’ to do…”
“I don’t even know how to argue with someone like you, but first, that bat you returned had a name. So do I. It's not Missy, Lassie, Pumpkin, or Buckaroo.”
Drifter’s frown deepened as he shifted. “I ain’t never said Buckaroo. Ever.”
“I’m Sergeant Katrina Mirinova of UNTIL OSR.”
“Well Sergeant, I’m not much the salutin’ type.”
“I’m not asking you to. You can just call me Katrina, or Kat, or I will start calling you Buckaroo. And this here,” Katrina pointed down the block to the tenement building, “also has a name -- the Lesserman Women’s Shelter -- and its pretty rare they’re not close to or completely full of women trying to get out of a bad situation, and this,” She wadded up a flyer in her hand until water oozed between her fingers, “is just some asshole’s way of trying to get under their skins.”
“Seems that fella needs a different hobby.”
“No kidding. Most of the irate exes just try to make them come back, sometimes by force. That’s -- manageable. But the thing is--”
Drifter grunted as he plucked at a flyer. “Is what?”
“--the thing is, I have business in there, and I’d just as soon you didn’t come with me.” Katrina said, full well knowing she couldn’t stop a category seven mystic if she tried. Maybe before, but now --
Drifter looked to the house for a long moment, his jaw set. “Alright Kat. Makes sense, but I gotta keep some eye on you, since my visions say I should, but no sense’n makin’ a bad situation worse.”
Katrina nodded as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Thanks. I know it might not seem like much, from the perspective of the universe and all, but I can’t help wondering what good is saving the universe for people to live in when they have to live in fear.”
Drifter's gaze remained on Katrina for a long moment. Katrina could only match the stare. Project HERMES had classified Dr. White and Dr. Black as class five mystics. An entire team spent all their time trying to make their explanations comprehensible. Drifter was -- something else entirely.
Drifter looked away as if she had disappeared, the light from his eye caught strings of mist. Some of them seemed to recoil from the light. As he walked away, the jingle of Drifter’s spurs echoed along the street with each step, dwindling down Lesserman street. The steps paused, and the glow of that eye was on her, once again and her skin crawled. “Don’t forget you’ve got a noodle date with Lo-Pan. It’d be useful to know what that snake is up to.”
Katrina approached the tenement when Drifter’s gaze had faded away, counting the steps until she was intercepted. The motion sensitive lights came on at a hundred feet, and the camera lights at fifty. Scarcely a dozen feet before the steps movement by the side of the building that activated the lights on the far wall. But those lights lights were blotted out as a form at least twice Katrina’s height slid around the corner. Her head was smooth and oblong with her snout dominated by black with white patches around her eyes. The overall effect would have made her look like a gigantic panda, if not for the fin that protruded from her back. No one would have mistaken Acro for human.
“State your business here,” She huffed out between rows of teeth, then bent down to look closer. “Sergeant, I didn’t know it was you. I was just trying to catch the jerkoff leaving the ads.”
“Catch them and...?” Katherine asked. On Monster Island, disagreements were settled in tooth and claw. Here, those type of settlements had earned Acro a tour of the Millenium City judicial system. Katrina stared down the hybrid Orca’s shrug.
“And I’d tell them not to litter.”
“Tell?”
“Just tell. But what kind of asshole puts strip-club ads in front of a women’s shelter?”
Kat answered with her own shrug. “The kind you remind not to litter. Make sure to get his height, general build, hair length and hair color for the police. Has Surhoff gone over with you how to get a good description of a human?”
“No. She’s been kinda stuck on the ‘don’t him them’ part.”
“Its an important part. Unless they hit you first. Then make sure you got witnesses. Even then, people break, so telling is good enough -- provided they stick around long enough for you to actually say anything.”
Acro smiled -- all teeth. Katrina wondered of Moreau had added some shark to his hybrid killer whale. Acro; Orca. That damned bat had a better name. Would he have been impressed she swam through both fresh and salt water to get to Millenium City? So many of the Moreau refugees hadn’t even had names. I’m FourteeSevenTwelve. I’m TrialSeven.
“Most run away before I can get a word out. What brings you here, Sergeant?”
“Just checking in with Ms. Surhoff before going on vacation.”
Acro took out a phone as large as a tablet, the broad oval of her face uplit by its glow. “Well damn. I guess I lose the pool. Most of us bet you never took a vacation. Still, late night for UNTIL business, isn’t it?”
“Late night to for you to be standing out in the rain. Guess we do what we have to.”
Acro stood straighter to look up at the clouds. Fully upright, she could almost touch the streetlamp. “Eh, I don’t mind the rain. Slept in worse when I first got here. I got you to thank for that.”
“You got you to thank for that. Don’t stay out too late.”
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