Organization

9

Location: Soap factories .

Location: Sour Gang Headquarters

Time: 19-30 local time. Two weeks from the arrival of the Candidate. Spring season.

Everyone, regardless of segregation color, gender and age, could enter the “sour” base at any time of the day. This was an unofficial rule established since the days of Jolly Dimmy's youth. Guests could ask for help, cooperation, trade. Or - try your luck along with prowess. That is - to try to join the ranks of the "sour".

So you want to join a gang? Have you licked milk from your lips?

The “bulls” surrounding the leader began to cackle. Funny Dimmy looked at the trio with distaste. Bulls felt out of place. But the skinny one was impudent, despite the yellow marks on his face and roughly stitched cut marks. Recently, he was beaten very seriously - as well as the rest of the newcomers. Whoever did it - Dimmi was ready to take him into the number of "sour" immediately. But with these goldfinches you will need to tinker.

“Man, we have five corpses on our conscience ...” began the smaller bull. He stopped short when he saw Veselchak's commanding gaze. And soon he was already rolling in the dust covering the floor, under the blows of a neuroshocker tuned “for pain”.

“I don’t care how many dead people you have on your conscience. Not a single one on mine,” the leader began, scratching his stubble. - Do you know why? You don't know, you're too dumb to come to that. Because I shit on these your dead. Me, you, them - generally to shit!

What about robberies? - He looked up, not the head of the skinny one. “Clean as nammung slime, good old robberies. We can be careful if we need to.

- If needed? Hey guys, we have a cleaner here!

Another burst of laughter.

“Otherwise none of us would have survived, guys. And you, too, - the skinny one flashed his eyes.

Dimmy got up. Picked up a neuroshocker. Activated it for maximum pain. The violet glow that enveloped the tip of the thin staff became so bright that the whore, who was sitting on the armrest of the leader’s leather throne, squeaked in fright and fell down.

- And you mean the smartest of the whole trinity, I'll see. Yes?

"Yes," the skinny one calmly confirmed.

"So what's your name, smart guy?"

— Barry.

“Barry, by the name of Shrenally?” OK. I love smart people. But the offer is the same for them. Standard, simple and light as a goddamn monero. Each of you is alone with a very evil joser. Whoever survives five minutes will get a place in the gang. The rest will go to feed the arachnids. Today I'm too lazy to nurse pieces of meat. Truncated?

Silence.

"Cut off," Barry confirmed, smiling a not-so-healthy smirk.

- Well, fine. Who does not agree - can go to mommy's boobs right now, no one will keep or send for meat. So go ahead!

The smaller of the trio stood up and cast a hostile glance at the crowd and personally at the skinny Barry. He turned around and went to the exit amidst everyone's hooting. Nobody stopped him.

“Well then,” Veselchak looked at the remaining couple with a broad smile, “let’s send our Hansel and Greta to meet the giant!”

***

Location: Wastes, exact location unknown .

Location: Operational base "Lair".

Time: 25-20 local time. Two months from the arrival of the Candidate. Spring season.

Analyst Second Class Radim was just finishing feeding the laser shredder the documentation and his operational sketches of the completed project when a call came to the communication implant. Someone from the Organization needed him, but the subscriber chose to hide the name. Or, he had to hide.

“Oh, to hell with you all back and forth,” the analyst said to the ceiling as the laser system slowly reduced the last stack of scribbled sheets to ashes. Correct handwriting in his laboratory was considered bad manners.

The signal was repeated. Judging by the sound and color of the notification, it was someone from the lower divisions. However, there were no urgency notes. Which is strange. Intrigued Radim, holding the almost destroyed sheets, accepted the challenge.

“Department Three-Eight is listening.

“Radim,” a voice answered dryly, from which the employee’s spine spontaneously stretched out, “come down to me.” And grab the report for one hundred and twenty-eight. I'll be waiting in fifteen minutes.

“Yes,” Radim had only to answer. After waiting for the active call icon to disappear from the corner of his eye, he sighed heavily.

Calls the third.

The Third Master has always been considered something completely unpredictable. Not as violent as the Second, but not as direct either. Not as human as the Fourth or Fifth, but not the First either, always remaining for ordinary performers a gloomy figure in a mask and a strange costume. And the love for spiced cocoa entered the local folklore even before Radim was recruited.

The stubborn shredder, as if by a wave of his hand, ate the last batch without hesitation. The analyst checked himself in the journal and, grabbing the required sealed folder from the table, rushed to the elevator. A third of the allotted time has already passed. And all the Masters, except perhaps the fifth one, were somewhat ... hostile towards being late.

High speed elevator. Remaining six minutes. Hermetic door away from the giant, now battened down gate (busy period, normal procedure). Gateway, body scan, iris scan, chip scan, small prick - checking the biomaterial for impurities. Four minutes.

“The master is waiting for you in the atrium,” the guard said after checking the data.

A short curse. Radim broke into a trot, but slowed down in front of the atrium. Today, the Third was in a contemplative mood and admired the artificial waterfall that adorned the near wall. Diverted and filtered groundwater, let into the rough stones of decorative masonry. The man paid no attention to the muffled steps. But the "close guard" - even drew. And she detained Radim, and rather rudely.

“Let him go,” Third snapped, not looking up from his contemplation of the waterfall. Kingpin, twisting the analyst's hand back, twisted it back and shrugged, saying, don't judge too harshly.

Radim didn't even intend to, but the salutatory speech flew away from the painful reception, like a deported migrant from the City after a raid.

“Sit down,” the Master pointed to a chair on the side, taking a large black mug. “Sorry for my oversight. Beginners are still too zealous. A trip to Montauk for you and your wife at the end of the summer season. Time off - at the expense of the Organization, the road - for yours. Is it coming?

— Hm... of course.

“Then get down to business. First, tell me about the main trends of what is happening.

Radim sighed. He prepared the report in a completely different way, but the material had long been in his head. Habit. Professional deformation, if you will.

— Detailed reports will be ready by the end of the week. From trends, from least critical to most. Several security forces dangerously crossed the unofficial power line. Haguro, Vixie and Gagana together control sixty percent of the market.

- Does your department have options for leveling their role in the city?

“A few, as always,” Radim smiled subtly.

- Start implementing them. Gradual, of course. A sharp collapse will cause unnecessary unrest now. Further.

- Over the past month, we can observe an increase in the production of drugs in the "scarlet" and "black" areas. Purchases of precursors and cases of recruitment of chemists have increased. Okapi whistleblowers report rising prices for lab equipment. Its demand exceeds the usual three times. Given that the market is stable and growing slowly, drug prices are expected to fall and several drug wars are expected.

- Cyclic process. More?

“There is a Djoser revolt in the hive of Arbethu.

"Arachnids..." The third cursed indistinctly and put down his mug. - They're early.

- The position of the current uterus is extremely unstable. In addition, the Enlightened Arbethu were unable to negotiate a change in the status of the district to red, which, coupled with peace-loving politics and a population explosion, causes nervousness of the young.

Are the signs early or have we overslept the trouble?

- While more talk. But several packs are already plotting assassination attempts on the Enlightened Ones. If the environment of the uterus does not pass them, the hive will ignite.

We will not help the arachnids. Bye. The only exception is that Shimun Arbethu must survive. If at least one mandible of the pack is aimed at him, cut out all his relatives. We need this person.

The analyst made notes before continuing. Although operations development was not his responsibility, judging by the mood of the Third, his department would clearly handle the coming crises. And a little bit of insider data in forecasting doesn't hurt.

What non-critical items have you saved for today?

Radim sighed. He didn't like today's "non-critical" forecasts. The data changed too often to be reliable, in his opinion. Which he said before he started.

- We have several forecasts for the influence of cartels and gangs, as well as the smuggling market for “guests”. There is vague evidence of the growing influence of "LX-18" ...

— Stick insects?

- Exactly. There are also a few Joser gangs that, in my opinion, will be completely cut out in the next two to three weeks. By people. Four groups of robbers from the Metropolis and one - professional swindlers. In addition, there are strange reports from the Soap Factory and Yam. In the first place, it's been too quiet lately, and in the second, it's too noisy.

- What are you betting on?

“In a week or two, we will find signs of calming the situation. After another one or two - the growth of aversion to the security services. And finally, after the very first puncture by the security forces, there was at least one revolt of the Charterers. Which will pass with the loss of the influence of the Security Council and people.

“I think this problem is more critical than the previous ones,” Third said quietly.

- Not at all. As I mentioned, the forecast is still too inaccurate.

The master drummed his fingers on the armrest, but said nothing.

We will consider this issue in the next planning. In the meantime, let's move on to the topic of your visit.

The analyst opened the folder and stood up to hand it over to the Third. He didn't even flinch.

— A short summary or a full report?

- Squeeze. I will read the report myself.

- A quarter of the subjects dropped out for one reason or another. Thirty more people are in doubt. I have identified twenty-three promising individuals who are very likely to become candidates.

Are there current security forces among them?

- Yes. Three at once - in "Exterrelial", three more in "Gagan", two - in "Agni Corp", two more - in "Sons" ...

- Stop. Do we have people in Gagan?

- Yes. One of the members of the board of directors. Seven years of implementation.

- And in the rest of the "big three" security forces?

Yes, several groups.

- Promising. Work out options for us to solve the problem of slums and too fat security guards.

"But, Master... and the candidates?" What about our embedded agents?

“They are not candidates yet,” Third replied in an icy voice. - If they survive in the meat grinder, they will become them. And leave the removal of agents by the curator, this is their task.

Radim bowed his head. He was going to talk about who and how promising in terms of selection or screening. But his instincts told him that the beast in front of him was not interested in such nuances. For now. But something needed to be clarified anyway.

- Work out their interaction with the situation?

Let's exacerbate the contradictions a little, nothing more. The prompter should not stick out too much from behind the scenes.

The third turned to the wall. The water current continued to rustle over the stones, indifferently and steadily.

Location : Old City

Location : Pier number two.

Time : Saturday, 21-14. Three weeks from the arrival of the Candidate. Spring season.

An old friend of mine once said never mess with a woman crazier than yourself. I remember laughing at him. And it was worth thinking about. During the day, I worked on patrols, kicking the crap out of the worst specimens of the human race (and foreign). And he spent all his free time with her. With Agnett.

This redhead is still an amazing girl. The combination of exuberant energy, femininity and humor keep me moving - but I was going to put down roots in the town and calmly sip beer. Instead of quiet gatherings in a bar or at a holopanel, I have already been where I did not even intend to. Billiard club, Glass pyramids. Pits. Yes, you say, not the best place for romantic walks. Maybe someday I'll think about it.

But not now. Now Ernest A.N. enjoys the sunset on a bench by the ancient pier. In pleasant company. The trio begin their approach, and I dare to ask a question. More precisely - my paranoia makes him ask. Every time after a temporary separation. Yourself.

“You never told me your full name,” I say calmly.

“Like you, of your last name,” Agnett retorts with a smile.

— My documents are always with me.

- They can be faked.

— How about records in databases?

“It's just data, isn't it? the redhead laughs, and I can't help but grin. She laughs very beautifully.

"Sometimes I think you'll slit my throat in my sleep," I manage.

- Blood? No, it's not mine, - the girl shakes her finger. — I do not like death, blood plus other negative emotions.

- Jealousy? I randomly blurt out and see a cooling smile.

“Only if it’s groundless,” Agnett says quietly.

- Do I need to worry?

"Ernest... don't take me as rude, but we shouldn't make long plans." No, she raises her hand and presses it to my lips. I smell the raspberry scent of her perfume. - It's not otshiv. And not a proposal to leave. Days and nights are great with you... but don't make long plans with me. I can disappear and reappear. As are you. SB is sent on business trips, isn't it?

“Very rare,” I grumble. I don't like where our conversation has taken.

But they do. So let's agree not to get attached.

This phrase, calm and uttered with a sad smile, cuts harder than a dzhoser's mandible. But Mr. A.N. long ago learned to lie with a smile.

“Goes,” I nod.

Lied even now.