Shamus slid into a booth, and ordered a pair of coffees, and waving off the waitress. It was late, an hour or so after the diner would usually be open, it was empty save Shamus himself and the waitress, he was happy he didn’t have to arrange the meeting location, favors were a tricky commodity to come by after all. He wondered if it was a shell corporation, or they simply were doing some payments under the table with the waitress? He didn’t have long to ponder this before an old friend, Donovan Blake entered the diner.

Walking back into the kitchen ‘Lucielle, the shutters. Then you can take your leave. I’ll see that the back gets secured’ she nodded and set about the task. She pulled down down metal sheets that blocked all the windows and the doors, the two men sitting silently, sipping their coffee.

After she departed, Shamus spoke first. ‘Small talk first?’

‘She’s already left. She knows better. She was here the last time I had to resolve a personnel dispute.’ a grim shadow fell over his brow.

Shamus eyed him warily. ‘People are foolish, but I suppose I’ll defer to your judgment.’ reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a small chip, and pushed it across to his cohort. ‘Has everything we have, including my personnel notes.’

‘Very good.’ the chip, slipped into an develop and disappearing into some hidden pocket. ‘I appreciate you being so prompt with this.’

‘I’ll also let you know, one of your competitors is looking for him as well. I’d wager its Veyber’ Donovan’s face transitioned to an annoyed frown ‘You know how these things go. I baited with Bargaz and he reacted poorly.’

‘He’s probably on the take from both. Hell he might be taking from us and I just haven’t caught it.’

‘Eh, its risky business. He’s probably not dug all the shit out of his nose from getting his position, and past that he’s not that clever and something of a coward.’ Shamus tilting his head. ‘Facts I think he’s keen to. Trying to keep all the contacts to yourself?’

‘Its useful. I’m sure I don’t need to illustrate why.’ Shamus shook his head, a small smile crooking the one side of his mouth.

‘I must say, your bluntness, its refreshing.’ raising his coffee cup in a kind of toast ‘I’m also surprised on the quality of the coffee here.’

‘Not the usual, but I like to arrange a little something for our guests.’ Donovan returned the gesture.’

‘I did, feed my boss a false lead, and hid a few documents so it should slow the V boys down a bit.

‘You’ll have to let me know next time, I can get them to step in the wrong turf.’

‘Only with sufficient notice. Had to cobble together what I did.’ Shamus hesitated, he did have one more trick up his sleeve that he hadn’t even fully told his boss. He’d had a colleague gen up some tracker tokens, and machine them into the wooden disks they used for quick cash they distributed. It was very risky, but the information it might provide was worth it, depending. ‘So, I have to know, how important is this target?’

‘Extremely. I’ll maintain my bluntness, as you’ve proved reliable.’ Donovan thought over his next bit of phrasing, a care that Shamus noted. ‘It could cost one of the directors I’ve been grooming out entirely, and would hand Veyber a weapons technology that I’d do almost anything to prevent. I’d say its worth going to direct war with them. Now that, was some interesting news thought Shamus. It might be worth sufficient cash, or buy him good graces for a long, long time.

==- Elsewhere in a more stable world

Caesar was, rather annoyed, but also worried, as he was getting some less than pleasant data of late. He no longer thought he could save the help, or possibly that Donovan’s usual plan, might actually be a mercy. The subject had been developing these long lapses in lucidity. He’d speak about all manner of things, at random. Past that, the subject’s moments where he was together, he was uncooperative to excess.

This, led to a negative loop, his lack of cooperation solidified the subjects thoughts that his demise was soon coming, leading him to be less willing to cooperate. This stress, seemed to be causing some mental instability. This lead Caesar to be unsure if the moments of insanity were from stress, and simply he was having a mental breakdown or something else. Some of them came with detectable instabilities in his possibility fields.

If proximity to the weapon was that dangerous, what else was it, or could it effect? And if the effect got bigger? What exactly was the range of this destabilization? He’d actually done a minor test on that, with disturbing results. He’d had one of their artists from the advertising department upstairs, recolor the carpets from pictures of the hotel, and had them go back the next day. The color changed! It was exciting, but it also only affected the room, but, also only to the door. He couldn’t believe that the field generated, and it was a day later! The implications were staggering.

He walked back into his lab, his subject having been moved to a small cell in the back. He had food, the subjects third meal request was rather strange. Cereal, a shredded wheat with frosting, with fruit punch flavored sports drink. Mr. Vicious was getting stranger by the hour, though it had only been two full days since he came to stay in the lab.

‘I have your’ the good doctor paused, ‘dinner.’ he finished, sliding it into the slot.

‘Caesar, dear Caesar.’ came the prisoner’s reply, an alarm bells ringing, he was sure that he’d never given his guest his name. Any identifiable information, he’d ensured his clothes had no logos, which was surprisingly hard. The corporation preferred you were branded for all to see. Sid had begun to cackle wildly.

‘I’m sorry? I’m afraid-’

‘Oh, don’t lie. You want your fathers name too?’ Sid had risen from his cot, and advanced on the window to his cell. His eyes bloodshot, his face bore a mark of savage clarity. ‘Gregory, ring any bells.’ The laughter resumed, the prisoner doubling over from the force of it.

A heady mix of confusion, and fear gripped the doctor. He ran over to check the feeds, and sure enough, the prisoner had been alone. No one could have talked to him, but he wasn’t wrong. There wasn’t any possible explanation, not that the doctor could pull from his frantic brain. ‘Mr. Vicious, I’m not sure how you got that information, but its-’

‘Oh. Don’t worry doctor. Nothing you say matters. I’m confident, that when I have you tapped to a chair, later, oh, it we’ll have a much more interst-’ a scream, an animal sound of pain ended his comment. Caesar ran back to see the condition of Sid. He’d moved back to lay on the bed. ‘Stop. Its too much.’ he gripped his head in his hands, and as he had before, albeit with less fanfare and noise preceding it, lapsed into a catatonic state.

Caesar now was entirely unsure what came next. How had he known? It was an impossibility, or so he’d told himself. No matter what the full details of the situation were, Caesar felt worried, genuinely, deep in his bones, and an uncertainty about the nature of his own work, that left him doubting. He forced the food through the slot. Moving to sit in his chair just letting his mind attempt to cobble some theory out of what had just happened. Even if he did, he’d have to sort out what he’d tell his superiors, as knowing what knew, would likely mean a bad end for Sid Vicious.