"Sister Marta died." said Barton.

Simultaneously, Tex spat out half his mouthful of coffee into his shirt and sucked the other half into his lungs. After dropping his book on the floor, he shoved his face into his elbow and started to cough.

"What do you mean, Marta died?" he asked after he'd finished sputtering.

"I mean Marta died." Barton answered. "Paramedics found her at the bottom of the stairs with clear signs of a stroke."

"When did you find out?"

"Got a text an hour ago."

"And you're telling me now?"

"I could've waited longer."

Tex searched Barton's face for any indication of a practical joke, but found she only looked bored.

"Guess that explains why she's late." said Tex.

"Uhuh."

The sound of a buzz and a short drum beat made Barton check her pocket. Once she'd retrieved her phone, she squinted her eyes at the screen.

"Wait, this says she isn't dead anymore." Barton followed. "Her heart started beating again."

"...So people can come back to life, now, huh?"

"When a doctor says 'dead', what they really mean is 'heart stopped'."

"That's stupid. You ain't dead till you're dead."

"Glad we can finally agree on something."

As Barton finished speaking, Tex spent a moment wondering if they'd both jumped to conclusions.

"Actually," he started, "what if I dug up a body and filled their head with a bunch of science goo that brought them back to life? Would that've made them dead the whole time?"

"That couldn't happen."

"How the hell would you know?"

"Never seen it happen."

Just as he had nearly once a day for two decades, Tex wondered if Barton was stupid or just very lazy.

"Just saying, maybe it ain't definitive." he replied.

Barton didn't respond.

"She coming back to work?" Tex asked.

With a little sigh, Barton took another look at her phone. Tex was silent as she scrolled.

"No." Barton answered. "She's gonna be in hospital care for a while."

"We should visit her."

"Eh."

Tex squinted his eyes in thought.

"Feels like I'm forgetting something." said Tex.

"Yeah. We gotta send out the job flyers."

With a little nod of remembrance, Tex reached under the table and pulled out Tala's laptop. After pushing up his small pair of round glasses, he brought up the job flyer from Google Docs.

"Christ." Tex muttered.

"What?"

Tex turned the screen so that Barton could see.

"Looks good." Barton said with both eyes glued to her phone.

"Read it."

Barton sighed and put her phone back in her pocket.

"One hundred percent legal robot mercy killing (not of humans) business (legal)." she read. "Plz join we are lonely."

"Who wrote this? Did you write this?"

"I think Tala wrote it."

"Goddamn it."

Tex cleared the flyer of its text. The empty text box blinked back at him.

"Heard of, uh.... he spoke as he typed. "Heard of tetragramming?"

"No one's heard of tetragramming." Barton replied.

"Want to help artificial intell--"

"Artificial intelligence isn't what we're dealing with. And people know it's illegal, so they're gonna get confused if you put that down."

"Oh yeah, cause making something illegal means it don't happen no more. Russia definitely ain't--"

"Don't get started."

Tex grunted in irritation but shut his mouth.

"Fine." he snapped. "What would you say we were dealing with?"

"Artificial artificial intelligence."

Tex typed in the suggestion.

"You should update the graphic." Barton followed.

Tex examined the flyer again to see that the background was composed only of differently colored rectangles. After searching the internet, he found and added some clip art of a human smiling and holding the hand of a robot filled with major stab wounds.

"Seems a little low-brow..." Tex trailed off as he examined his own work.

"Put more sparkles on it. People like sparkles."

Seeing nothing else to do, Tex added heaping amounts of glitter effects to the flyer. By the time he'd finished, it was more of a lens flare than a job flyer.

He added the phrase 'no prior experience necessary' at the bottom.

"It's fine." Barton said to Tex's uncertain face. "Hit send."

"Would you join an organization with this flyer?"

"No."

On one hand, the flyer was terrible. On the other, Tex didn't care to change it.

"When should we do interviews?" Tex asked as he added their address.

"A week from now." answered Barton. "Tuesday."

"Alright."

"Where are you posting it?"

"Craigslist."

"Let's just hope we don't get another bible thumper."

Although he shared the sentiment, Tex doubted they would have the privilege of being so picky.

The week that followed went by much too slowly. Tex did his best to relax during what was technically his time off, but it was difficult. The nature of his job usually led to him going to bed at night anxious and unsatisfied, and the feeling was only amplified when he wasn't able to make any progress.

When Tuesday finally did come, he was out the door ten minutes early. To compensate, he stopped at a coffee shop to grab a customer's-only water cup and leave.

Tex had two rooms reserved in his building. One was an open area next to the elevator, with a table, a fridge, and a couch, where they spent most of their time. Directly across the hall was a more personal area, with a desk and proper office supplies. It didn't get used much by anyone but Tala, but Tex thought it a better place to hold an interview.

Especially because Barton had taken it upon herself to fall asleep on the couch.

There were two people outside the hall, a woman and a man, who Tex gave a little wave and a nod to.

"I'll do you first." he muttered to the woman, as she was the closer of the two.

After she'd complied and followed him inside the office, Tex shut the door behind them.

She was a younger woman, maybe in her late twenties. Her features were aristocratically set. Her hair and eyebrows had been dyed a candy-colored shade of green, which Tex had long since found wasn't uncommon in big cities along the Pacific Northwest. Her skin was pale and cloudy, although Tex did suppose it was dead Winter.

She sat in one of the two chairs opposite to him.

"Guess you're here cause you want a job?" Tex asked.

"I'm here because you're in my parking space." the woman replied.

The woman spoke with a tiny pout. Her tone sounded like it belonged to a much older woman.

"You're the car with the...flags, right?" she followed.

"I'm parked in the same spot I've parked every day for half a decade. Spot twenty-five."

With a little sigh, the woman pushed a slip forward. Tex understood what the problem was immediately upon reading it.

"This says you got space fifty-two." he explained.

The woman scoffed.

"I get it though, they're kinda hard to read." Tex followed.

"No, they're not." the woman replied with an irritated shake of her head.

"Uh, alright. How bout this. You can have that space if you let me hire you."

"Why did you work with Marta Santos?"

The question was so abrupt that Tex was momentarily left speechless. Still, the woman leaned forward in her chair with a stern gaze of expectation.

"...What?" asked Tex.

"You spent four years working with Marta Santos." the woman answered. "Why?"

"Why do you know that?"

"I know all about Marta and her writing."

"The stuff about--gays?"

"No, the stuff about atheists."

In her private time, Marta had written several books about the special place in hell for gay atheists. Personally, Tex found her writings to be very cute.

"Why do you support the Catholic church?" the woman followed.

"I don't." Tex answered truthfully. "I ain't big on organized religion."

"Marta supported the Catholic church. You supported Marta by employing her."

"Huh?"

“My ancestors were slaughtered in the Crusades. Why do you support the Crusades?”

“What are you, like a Lutheran or something?”

The woman let out a piercing screech of horror, which Tex took as a yes.

"That why you came up here?" Tex asked.

"What?"

"To ask about Marta?"

"Why did you work with her?"

Tex hummed to himself with amusement as he thought back to when he'd hired Marta.

"Do you know what we do here?" asked Tex.

The woman's face shifted. She was still frowning, but she now looked like she might actually be paying attention.

"I know it has something to do with computers." she replied.

Tex rubbed his forehead as he tried to figure out how best to explain.

"Making AI in our world might be illegal." he started. "But there's still jack shit that we can do about people hopping in front of their computers and making programs."

"Programs."

"Computers are getting real powerful. If you got the money and the knowledge, you can make a little universe."

The woman gave Tex no indication that she knew where he was going.

"And you can fill it with your own little robots." Tex followed. "Or simulated people, whatever you wanna call it."

"Oh." she replied.

"Now, most people who take the time to do that just use them for--uh, political demonstrations. But a small minority of folks--"

Tex grit his teeth at the wave of intense disdain that rushed into his chest.

"--do spend a little too much time thinking of new and interesting ways to torture them." he finished.

The woman's face twisted into an expression of new understanding. However, it quickly dropped into disproving.

"So you mercy kill fake robots?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"How do you torture a robot?"

"You make it feel pain."

With a tiny scoff, the woman's mouth fell open with skepticism.

"How would you do that?" she pushed.

"The same way you make humans feel pain."

"How's that?"

"I dunno. Don't see why it matters."

The woman scoffed and threw a hand into the air.

"I still don't understand." she stated.

"Understand what?"

"Why you'd work with a Catholic.”

Although the woman sitting before Tex seemed insane and terrible to work with, he was desperate enough to give her another try.

“Well, tormenting something like that, that’s kinda the worst thing that could ever happen, ain’t it?” Tex replied.

The woman said nothing.

"I'd work with anyone." Tex followed. “You want the job?”

"I'd never work with a second degree Catholic."

"I'm a first degree Catholic."

"...What?"

"I was baptized Catholic. Got dunked in the Jesus tub and everything."

With an angry scoff, the woman reached into her bag and pulled out a rather large book. Tex read the front cover to see that it was a copy of the King James Bible.

“I’ve composed a list of every logical fallacy within the bible.” said the woman. “I’m going to share them with you so you can understand the extent of illiteracy you’re supporting.”

“Could I--give you money to go away?”

“And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night."

The women looked up at Tex with expectation. Tex could only stare back.

"Um, actually," the woman followed with a sigh, "the moon doesn’t have its own light. We can only see the moon because light from the sun reflects off the moon."

As the women continued to give her constructive criticism, Tex pulled out his phone and sent Barton a text requesting assistance. He prayed that the notification would wake her up.

“And Adam lived an hundred and thirty years, and begat a son in his own likeness.” the woman continued. “‘An hundred’? Learn how to grammar, Jesus.”

“Just to be clear, you don’t want the job?”

The woman sighed and closed the book.

“No.” she answered.

“Can you get out?”

“I can. But I won’t.”

There was a knock at the door. Before Tex could say anything, Barton stepped inside.

“What’s going on?” Barton asked.

“Can you please escort this young Lutheran woman outside?” Tex replied.

“You called security on me?” the women shrieked.

“At this point, you’re trespassing.”

“Ideologically, maybe. But what kind of a world is it where that’s a crime?”

The woman had yet to get up from her chair. After stealing a look at her watch, Barton stepped forward and picked up the chair with the woman still inside it.

The woman frowned and folded her arms across her chest as she was led out into the hall.

“Just so you know?” the woman said while she was still in earshot.

“What.” Tex replied.

“This will only reinforce me.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The open door to his office provided Tex with just enough space to watch as Barton called the elevator and set the women and chair down on the inside corner. Barton then sent the elevator to the basement floor and stepped back out into the hall.

The elevator doors closed behind her.

“I’m going back to sleep.” Barton said before disappearing from sight.

Although throwing a random stranger out of his office had been entertaining, Tex felt the beginnings of a bad mood sneak up on him. His meeting with the woman had left him feeling strangely pessimistic of human nature. Tex hated feeling pessimistic, especially about something so rudimentary.

A knock at the door frame shook Tex from his thoughts.

"Oh." Tex muttered, remembering the other person. "Come in."

A man stepped through the door. The same one Tex had seen when he'd arrived.

"Hello." the man greeted.

He was on the shorter side, although not shockingly so. He wore a long sleeved white shirt and a black pair of cargo pants that tightened at the calves. A small duffel bag was slung over his shoulder. His black hair was cut short and simple, and his face was clean shaven. He was attractive in a very minimalist sort of way, as if god had taken a blank slate of a man and tried to make him handsome in as few alterations as possible.

His expression was perfectly blank. Tex didn't think he could have been more than thirty.

"Hey." Tex said. "You here about the job?"

The man looked back in the direction of the elevator.

"I've heard good things." he replied.

"Huh. What's your name?"

"Tagawa Junji."

Although Tagawa Junji's voice was articulate and he was clearly familiar with English, a heavy Japanese accent made Tex wonder if he hadn't been born in the United States.

"Is Tagawa your last name?" asked Tex.

"Yes."

"Can I call you Junji?"

"Why?"

"It's shorter."

Tagawa Junji's face twisted with thought for a long moment.

"I suppose so." he finally replied. "But only because of your motivations."

"For shortness?"

"Yes. I support briefness in language, so long as no precision is lost."

"Oh."

"When I studied English, I found myself most fond of Ebonics."

Tex brought the back of his hand up to his mouth to cover his cough. He studied Junji's face for any change in expression, but found nothing.

"...Alright." Tex replied. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Junji sat down in the single remaining chair facing Tex's desk. Tex watched with uncertainty as Junji folded his hands in his lap.

"I wanna give you a little job description before we get into things." Tex continued. "It's kinda strange, so sit tight."

"Very well."

"You--uh, you got that we can't pay you, right?"

"Yes."

Tex breathed out a tiny sigh of relief.

"Good." he replied. "Good. But we can feed you, and we can give you a spot to live."

"How will you feed me?" asked Junji.

"Got a buddy who works on a farm. Hope you like potatoes and pork chops."

"Where will I be living?"

"You'll get your own studio in a complex a few blocks west of here."

"How can you afford to house me?"

Although he knew it wouldn't help, Tex lowered his voice a tad before replying.

"I'm friends with the landlord." Tex answered. "We make sure she stays fed, and she lends us a couple rooms. Ain't exactly legal, but I don't really give a damn."

"What if I become ill?"

"I know a married couple. One's an accountant and the other's an insurance representative. We give them food and a place to live in the complex, and they fudge the numbers a little bit."

Junji's face began to scrunch with suspicion.

"What's wrong?" Tex asked.

"It is just..." Junji muttered. "I was not aware I was to be living on a co--"

"It ain't a commune."

"How does what you've described differ from a--"

"We got self-respect."

Tex let out the start of a nervous laugh, but stopped when Junji didn't join him.

"Whatever it is." Tex continued. "Is it a deal breaker?"

"No. I will manage."

"That's good."

Tex breathed out another little sigh of relief. So far, the meeting had been going better than he'd expected.

"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to."

With a tiny scoff, Tex cocked his head and let his cheek rest against his fist.

"I am from Japan." Junji followed.

"How'd you come across my flyer?" Tex asked.

"I follow the tetragramming subreddit. Your flyer was posted there."

"Uh, why?"

"I do not approve of tetragramming."

Tex supposed it was a fair response.

"Hope you don't mind me for asking, but why do you speak English?" he questioned.

"Business reasons. I am--I was a businessman."

"What kinda business?"

"Political business."

"Yakuza business?"

Junji blinked twice.

"No." he replied.

With his head still cocked, Tex stuck a toothpick in his mouth and bore his eyes into Junji's.

"You, uh...got any qualifications?" asked Tex.

Junji's eyes flashed down towards the hands folded in his lap before he gave a response.

"I am very punctual." Junji answered.

"Uhuh."

"I excel at economic literacy, physical combat, and performing thought experiments."

"Physical combat, huh?"

"Yes."

"That you picked up in the Yakuza?

Junji blinked twice more.

"No." he replied.

Junji continued to stare. Tex let out a tiny sigh of defeat.

"How about weaknesses?" Tex continued. "Got any of those?"

Junji's eyebrows came together in what resembled deep thought. He was silent for long enough for Tex to grow confused, and eventually anxious.

"This question is too vague." Junji finally stated.

Tex let out a brief chuckle after deciding that Junji had a point.

"Yeah, and it ain't really that important, neither." Tex replied. "How about this. There anything I should know?"

Junji's eyebrows came back together into intense introspection, but Tex stopped him before he could get too far.

"Being ex-Yakuza is something that I would wanna know about." Tex followed.

"I am not from the Yakuza."

"Look, I can see all them tattoos through your shirt."

Quickly, Junji looked down at the fabric of his shirt. He tightened the left sleeve against his arm and widened his eyes as the red and black ink made itself seen.

"I am from the Yakuza." Junji stated.

The Yakuza was both an organization and a government organization, which meant Tex felt about them the same way he felt of sex offenders or swallowing cucumbers whole. However, he couldn't afford to be picky.

"Do you hold the Yakuza in low regard?" Junji followed.

Tex let out a short scoff. He chewed on the end of his toothpick as he made his response.

"Clergy of bootlickers?" he replied. "Better cut off your pinkies and send them to daddy as an apology for questioning his bad decisions?"

Tex surprised himself with how mean his assessment had been. In truth, a sudden burst of anger had clouded his senses.

"...And?" asked Junji.

"Don't think about them, no."

Junji only let out a short snicker, which was a better reaction than Tex had been expecting.

"Still, you managed to keep all your fingers." Tex followed. "Pretty impressive."

Junji hummed out a noise of interest.

"Not so impressive." he replied. "My family was too new-wave to enforce such ineffective brutalities."

"I can't even--I ain't got no idea what that meant."

The tiniest start of a smile grew on Junji's face. Tex found the sight less intimidating than he would have expected.

"Thanks for being honest." Tex followed. "You're hired."

"Thank you. Where do I sign?"

"You don't gotta sign nowhere. You're hired until you quit or I fire you."

Junji's blank expression turned to one of confusion and fear. Tex might have wondered about it had a more pressing question not popped into his head.

"Why'd you leave the Yakuza?" Tex asked.

"I saw your job offer." Junji answered.

"How'd you leave?"

"I quit."

"Didn't know you could just quit the Yak like that."

"You cannot. I will likely be hunted by my former associates when I fail to return."

The thought crossed Tex's mind that Junji had the potential to kill him. Out of habit, Tex tensed his right leg just so that he could feel the comforting reminder of the handgun in his pocket.

"You worried about being hunted?" asked Tex. "And all that would come of it?"

"My death? No."

Tex removed his hand from his cheek so that he could cough into his fist.

"Although," Junji continued, "it would appease me to know that my position would be once again filled if my death were to come about."

"Uh, yeah. I wouldn't just--shut down the operation if you died."

"Good. I also ask that I am terminated in a timely manner if I ever show enough incompetence to jeopardize this organization."

Tex bit the end of his toothpick with thought until it split.

"You ran away from your family and country so that you could take up a job offer in Seattle?" he asked.

"And I am anxious to start."

There was obviously a great deal that Junji was hiding, but Tex decided he didn't really care to make it his business.

"What is your name?" Junji asked.

"Uh, Tex." answered Tex. "Dallas Tex."

"Your name is Dallas Tex?"

"Yeah, and I ain't from Dallas."

"Where are you from?"

"Texas."

Junji's face twisted in a way that indicated that he hadn't gotten the joke, but he'd gotten that it was a joke.

"Is that a political statement?" he questioned.

"Yeah, actually."

Junji didn't reply. Tex ran his words through his head and started to feel a bit guilty.

"I'm being too hard on Dallas." Tex followed. "Lord knows it was a hell of a lot better than this shit hole."

"Is Tex your surname?" Junji pushed.

"Sorta. It's kind of a ride to get into."

"I have time."

"Alrighty, then. Tex is my last name now, but only cause I changed it."

"Why did you change your name?"

Tex let out small breath of hot air.

"Didn't like my daddy." he answered.

"Why did you change it to Tex?" asked Junji.

"Everybody's always called me Tex since I first started shooting. It's, uh, reference to my grandma. She was a crack shot with a left eye gone, so folks used to call her the 'one-eyed Texican'."

"What is a Texican?"

"What'd you think?"

Junji let out a short exhale of amusement.

"Why did you not simply take your mother's maiden name?" he asked.

"It's already my middle name."

Junji stared blankly.

"Point is," Tex continued, "my name's Tex. Ain't nobody calls me Dallas."

"Hey Dallas." Barton called from across the hall. "I'm awake. You hire someone yet?"

Tex managed not to break eye contact with Junji, but it was hard.

"Barton calls me Dallas." said Tex.

The rest of the meeting didn't take much longer. Junji didn't seem to have any hesitations, so Tex figured it would be best to show him where he would be staying. Not wanting to walk or drive, Tex decided that it would be a good time to introduce Junji to the bus systems.

The stop was just outside their building. The live schedule told Tex that the wait was only a few minutes.

"I'm gonna give you a warning." Tex muttered as they stood, too quietly for anyone but Junji to hear. "Does your family know you're gone yet?"

"No." Junji replied. "Was that the warning?"

"Most people quit this job real quick. You might wanna try it out a time or two before burning every bridge you had."

"Why do most quit?"

"It's a weird job."

"Do you run this organization with competence?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Then it will not be a problem."

The bus they'd been waiting for came to a halt before them. Tex signaled for Junji to stand by the rear doors and enter when they opened.

"But if it don't work out," Tex continued once they'd seated themselves. "I ain't just gonna leave you stranded. We'll figure something out."

Junji didn't reply. He stayed quiet the whole ride over. Tex got the feeling that he wasn't comfortable talking with so many strangers scattered around him.

It was raining by the time they got to their stop. After being exposed to the open air, Junji broke into a jog as Tex pointed out the correct building. Tex managed to catch up after just a few moments.

"Entrance is over here." Tex said as he directed them into the parking garage.

Tex hated the parking garage. Not only did it leak even when it wasn't raining, but terrible music played from speakers at all times and echoed awkwardly throughout the whole lot.

"Does that--" Junji stammered. "Is there always music?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Keeps the homeless from congregating."

Junji made a face of disgust as Tex called the elevator. Tex was unsure as to what specifically he was disgusted by.

A few days prior, Tex had spoken with the landlord about giving Marta's old room to the new hire. He'd been given a key for apartment two hundred and seventy. When he found and unlocked the door, he discovered that it had thankfully been cleaned.

It was a small studio apartment, with a bathroom and minuscule kitchenette. There wasn't a bedroom, but there was a patch of carpet off to the side that could fit a queen sized bed as long as you tried really hard. The walls were painted a tasteful grey, and although Marta had moved out, the place still smelled strongly of scented oils.

Normally, it would have gone for two grand a month.

"This is where you're gonna be staying." Tex said as he dropped the key into Junji's hand.

"Hmm."

"You come here legally?"

"No."

"That's alright. Bianca don't ask too many questions."

Junji followed as Tex stepped inside. Tex had been a bit worried that Junji would wrinkle his nose at the place, but he seemed plenty calm.

"It alright?" asked Tex.

"It is fine."

"Smaller than you're used to?"

"Substantially."

Tex frowned. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a few pangs of guilt. He let his eyes drift to the small bag slung over Junji's shoulders.

"That all you brought?" Tex pushed.

"I brought only what I needed."

As he spoke, Junji tossed his bag towards the couch.

The zipper snagged upon impact. Out spilled three energy bars, some silver coins, three daggers, a small blue vibrator, and a dime bag of cocaine.

Junji turned his head towards Tex with a face like stone. Tex wondered for a short second if he was going to die.

"A man has five needs." Junji stated. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I'd give you four."

"What won't you give me?"

"The nose candy."

"It's more of a last stand than strictly a need."

Tex wasn't completely sure what Junji was trying to imply, but he found it intimidating regardless. Junji sat down on the couch and began to refill his bag.

"When do I start?" asked Junji.

"You wanna start tomorrow?" Tex replied.

"I would like to."

"Good. You remember where we met today?"

"Yes."

"Be there at eleven. At night."

"Thank you."

Junji didn't say anything else. The air grew slightly awkward as Tex realized he no longer had any reason to stay.

"Guessing you want me to go?" Tex asked.

"...Yes."

"Alright. See you tomorrow."

Before he left, Tex dropped a company card on Junji's railing with a few phone numbers on it.

"Call us if anything goes wrong." Tex said as he left.

"Very well."

As he closed the door to Junji's apartment, Tex wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

It probably couldn't have been too weird.