Freeport 10's Research Deck: Commonwealth Research and Development Wing.

[Enkidu]

Achille grins again, although the exact emotion fuelling the expression remains unclear. "...Susan. That was quite the obfuscation, even for you. Not found the companionship you want, desire, from us? My dear, this is a fraternity; if you cannot feel at home with us then then exactly where are you going to feel valued... never perhaps?" He sighs slightly, leaning against the frame. "McCarthy, however you have satisfied yourself with us, or indeed, whatever you have sated in yourself, scientific interest, companionship, whatever; this very final. Think of it cheri; you merely knock on my office and tell me that you wish to part company, well, Susan...." He exhales deeply, tight in jaw, lips pursed, thoughts opaque.

"...Susan, despite the many, many rational, well-reasoned itinerary of ill-will I may hold for you - your arrogance for one, your elitism. your fallible (and indeed, obvious) tendency to manipulate others, me included - , you do realise this is a dismemberment, oui? You, Susan McCarthy, along with everyone on this bloody deck, represent more than mere subordinates, tools to be used then discarded. Non Madame. This is something much greater - a fellowship, non, a chain to utilise clichéd imagery. We're only a strong as each other; each link must tie together in full or we will all become redundant. Now that chain is going to need to be recast."

*Places the bottle on his desk, on a coaster, as though it might corrode it.*

"...I would ask you exactly what's in the mixture but I trust a detailed chemical analysis more than I actually trust you now cheri... Oh do not be offended, we all know the impression is entirely mutual. But, Susan, for what it's worth, well, thank you Mc Carthy, you've proved an admirable asset and indeed, quite the sparring partner. And this... well. Whether it proves to be ambrosia or brine purely, at least it'll keep me occupied for a while. So..."

*Shifts uncomfortably*

"...I assume this is good bye then, for it's value." Gradually, the simile faded back, a minor thing, tiny and insignificant, but none-the less based off a grudging respect. "...Since you've not... well, found, exactly what you intended from our working relationship, then, well, I've lost a nemesis, haven't I?"

He shrugs jaggedly, rolling his shoulders. "After all, there isn't much I can say to that, is there? Merde but she is final..." Achille backed through the door, and offered his hand through the aperture. After a quiet moment, his features dissolve, melting into a semblance of genuine sincerity.

"Au revoir, Susan McCarthy, and good luck in wherever life leads you...."

"...You're certainly going to need if you want to stay ahead of the dogs. So, McCarthy, let's say ten hours, and not forty-eight, oui?"

The slam of the door smothers his chuckles.

"Ah justice..., where would the world be without you?"

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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