084 LOST A FORTUNE
Damen and Dorin walked into the Six O'Clock Diner dressed like they were heading to prom. The waiter's expression barely flickered; important customers had become a common sight here.
"Your table is over there. Please place your order on the tablet menu— our restaurant is self-service," he said.
They sat. Dorin flipped through the menu, her lips twitching. "There's nothing suspicious about this."
"Just get on with it," Lander told her through her comm.
She stuck a slim button onto the tablet's frame — a hacking pad that would siphon every packet of data the device sent or received.
"Any sign of the Black Cockerel yet?" Damen whispered.
"No hits yet," Lander replied.
"Maybe there's a secret code we don't know," Dorin murmured.
"Open sesame," Damen joked.
"This isn't funny," she hissed.
They scrolled. The tablet was just a plain, clumsy interface: categories, prices, a pen tethered to the side. Nothing that shows it was meant for an assassin-for-hire.
A waiter hovered. "Have you decided? It's busy tonight.. there's a long queue outside."
"I don't know how to use the menu," Dorin said loud enough for the waiter to hear.
"You can order from the interface… even a school kid would know how to order", he replied rudely.
A man at the next table chuckled. "Just write it down. I saw a guy do that earlier when he didn't know." He mimed scribbling with the tablet pen.
"The pen is for writing compliments", the waiter informed angrily before walking back to the reception area.
"That's what the pen is for- writing compliments…. More like writing complaints?" Damen said.
Lander's voice cut in: "Each of those VIPs used the pen. They wrote something on it and its definitely not compliments or even complaints."
Dorin handed the pen to Damen. "What should we write? You try…"
Damen hesitated. "What would you put on a menu if you wanted to kill someone?"
"Try it," Dorin urged.
He wrote, testing the joke: "Open sesame". Nothing happened.
"Stupid," he muttered.
Dorin rolled her eyes. "Just write it plainly."
He scrawled, "Kill Director Ambrone Melrose."
Dorin snatched the tablet back. "Are you insane? That's our director." Then she smiled.
"Although I'll probably write his name down if I want to kill someone", Dorin added humorously.
"Just testing the system," Damen said. "See how it reacts."
Their letters suddenly vanished from the screen as if eaten.
"What the hell?"
A prompt blinked up:
"Do you want an assassination contract on Director Ambrone Melrose? Y / N"
They stared at the tablet, shocked.
Lander laughed softly over the comms. "Press Yes. Of course, press Yes."
"You can't be serious," Dorin said.
"It's a test. Nothing will happen if we won't pay," Damen shrugged.
He tapped Yes.
A bill flashed: "OUR PRICE: TEN MILLION AURS. PLEASE PAY IN FULL."
"Now what?" Dorin whispered.
"Now we pay …. slowly," Lander said. "Use small-limit cards. I'll trace where the funds go."
Damen slid a tiny thousand-Aur test card into the reader. The tablet pulsed before meta-energy was siphoned off.
"Card limit utilized. Please insert another card."
He fed another card with six thousand. The machine drained it in the same silent instant.
"You better make sure SIA reimburses me for this," Damen muttered, half-grinning, half-worried, as the tablet awaited the next payment.
Soon, Damen had burned through all his low-limit cards.
"Have you got them yet? I'm broke because of this," he complained into the comm.
"The transfer amounts are too small—I can't trace where the meta particles are going," Lander replied.
"Then put in more money," Dorin urged.
"No way." Damen crossed his arms. He still had his million-aur card, but there was no way he'd use his own fortune to chase a secret assassin network.
"Come on, I almost have them," Lander insisted.
Damen didn't move.
"Don't be stingy," Dorin said. "If we don't catch these people, they'll come for you next."
She had a point—and she knew it. With a long sigh, Damen pulled out his jade card. "That's all my savings. Make sure the SIA reimburses me for this."
"Yeah yeah."
The moment he inserted the card, he watched in horror as the balance began to drain. The jade shimmered faintly, its green hue fading.
"My money…" he groaned, his eyes wide. "I can feel it leaving."
"Almost there," Lander said. "Just a little longer."
"Be done with it soon!" Damen barked, watching the numbers vanish faster than he could blink.
Then, disaster struck.
The screen blinked.
"Card limit utilized. Please insert another card."
Damen froze. "No… no, no, no!" He slammed his fist on the table. "Lander! Did you get the trace?!"
"Just—one more minute!"
"I don't have one more minute!" Damen snapped, slumping into his chair. His card was empty… completely drained.
"Payment incomplete. Please insert another card."
"This stupid thing wants more money," he muttered, staring at the tablet like it had just robbed him… which it had.
There was only silence from Lander.
Then, the message changed again.
"Sorry. Payment incomplete. Your contract has been terminated. No refund is available."
"Terminated? What about my money?" Damen shouted.
"Forget it," Dorin said, tugging his arm. "We have to go before they bust us."
As she dragged him toward the exit, Damen looked back at the screen, mourning the glowing numbers that used to be his fortune.
"My money!!!" he cried, loud enough for half the diner to turn and stare.
-----
They returned to the unmarked van parked across the street from the Six O'Clock Diner.
"I want my money back!" Damen yelled the moment he stepped inside.
"Don't worry about your money," Dorin said, sliding into the seat beside him. "I'll get it back for you from the director."
Damen gave her a doubtful look. "You're serious? Promise?" He understood it was extremely difficult to make a claim from management, especially if the sum was astronomical.
"I promise. First thing in the morning."
Damen slumped into a corner seat, his arms crossed, sulking like a child who just watched his savings vanish into smoke. A million aur wasn't just pocket change …. It was a fortune.
"Did you get a trace?" Dorin asked, turning to Lander.
"Almost," Lander muttered, his eyes glued to his data pad. "But since the payment didn't complete, I lost the trail before the meta stream stabilized."
Damen let out a dry laugh. "Great. So, I'm broke and we got nothing."
"We'll get them next time," Lander said calmly. "We'll wait for the next assassination order to appear. When it does, I'll be ready to intercept the payment stream."
Before they'd left the diner, Dorin had discreetly stuck a micro-tag under their table—an SIA hacking node that would feed any new data from the restaurant directly to Lander's system.
But Damen was already tuning them out.
He was no longer interested in the operation. His thoughts were filled with nothing but the empty balance on his card.
He finally stood up. "I'm done for tonight. Need some air… or a new way to make money before I starve."
He pushed open the van door and stepped out into the cool night.
Damen took a walk on the street to calm himself over the loss of over a million aurs. Soon, he realized he'd gone far. The street was dim, lit by old lamps and the fading sign of the diner.
Then…. his instincts were prickled.
Someone was following him.
He slowed his pace, scanning the glass reflections along the sidewalk. Footsteps echoed behind him—there were two, maybe three shadows.
"Damnit," he muttered under his breath. "Who is it this time?"