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

[Enkidu]

"Buzz. Buzz. Wirr! Buzz". Jolt after jolt.

Creeping around the desk beyond the cusp of his left ear, the Burgundian’s PDA oscillated with a dogged, deranged persistence, jumping, nudging and splashing at his drool trail.


“Sacre freaking merde…” The restive brain swore, hands swatting at the hornet before consciousness and common sense informed him what the irritant was. “…porcine putain de mere…” He mumbled, cussing incoherently as the nape of his neck thudded into the desk lamp. “Imbéciles…”

Administrator Nadeau was not a man reputed to bear great restraint in the face of sleep cycle interruptions.

Avariciously thumbing the holoscreen as if digits were spurs, the pensive man scrolled through the (decidedly impertinently) brief transmission as though it was some tawdry free magazine palmed to him in the street.

“Oh. Conway.”

For a deliberative instant Achille considered completely disregarding him and flinging the tactless device into the next office over, but the dread of the man actually interrupting him physically nudged him beyond laziness.

==============================================

Sender: A.A.N.
To: Conway
Re: Remember that first thing I said I would do for you?

No, Devious, interest cannot be stimulated when I have not the iota as to what the subject material happens to be. Provide me with a finished product instead of abstraction and then repeat the query.

Violate my inbox again at a more workable, procreative time. Say six hours. Minimum.

P.S: Be aware that the entirety of this facility does not operate on Manhattan Mean Time +4, Conway.

===============================================

A hefty groan, and the head burbled back to its lodgement.

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

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