MF1.0 - 32 - The Last Suit

‘Would you shoot me if I squeed?’ Stef asked, resisting the urge to bounce off all the walls. This was much better than the time she’d hacked…this was better than any hack. Wow…is that actual happy? Quick! Bottle it and sell it on eBay! Don’t ruin this for me! You’re the one who just calculated the shipping cost for empty bottles. Your logic will never defeat me, now back to… Do the thing where you pretend to pay attention. Ryan was giving her that look again. ‘The bathroom is…’ ‘Squeed,’ she clarified, ‘not…oh, never mind, the moment’s gone, what now?’ I’ll issue a uniform, then to Jones.’ To Jones, of course, professional geek time, this is… ‘…like the cool version of what happens to hackers – I think this is better than Silicon Valley.’ He stared at her for a moment. ‘Recruit Mimosa, did that sentence begin your head?’

Magic power: earth swallowing me whole, go! …you’re not magic, genius. The burning sensation in her cheeks told her she was blushing. ‘Yes.’ He gave a slow nod, then turned. They walked back through all of the rooms and she reached for the door leading to the hallway. Ryan coughed, and she pivoted – he was standing in front a door that hadn’t previously existed. ‘Does that happen a lot around here?’ He seemed to consider this for a moment, then gave a smile as an answer. The light inside the room was already one – though she was beginning to suspect that the Agency was a giant fridge. Which made her like some giant piece of sentient mould wandering around hungering for…wait, what? Like a giant fridge, in that the lights automatically came on when a person entered a room. The room was huge, but cluttered – rows and rows of uniforms were surrounded by shelves of weapons, phones, cables, a small nuclear device, scanners, computers and hats. It was almost like an army disposal store – it had the same musty smell, even though everything was clean, and there was no dust to be seen. Also, for some bizarre reason, a small container of what seemed like promotional badges. She picked the container up and experimentally shook it. ‘No,’ Ryan said, ‘we don’t know where it came from.’ She stole a pin, then moved to the next shelf. A row of gleaming white lab coats shone at her from the corner of her eye and she moved to those. It was the rule of the caffeine-fuelled lifestyle – whatever was shiniest was what took priority. The material was supple, though she was sure it wasn’t going to stay white for long. ‘So, do I just pick one out, or what?’ ‘No, but this one should fit.’ She let go of the sleeve, and turned, silently hoping that was going to be roomy enough – that it wasn’t going to be…She promptly turned away, then back, slower this time. Her level of confusion was a notch above what it would have been had he been holding purple ice cream and gibbering about buttons. In his hands was a suit. A suit, like the one he was wearing. Black pants, white shirt, blue vest, blue tie, big black jacket. Not the uniform of the tech department. For the first time since Jenkins had left a “Santa” present outside her front door on her first Christmas alone, she felt like hugging someone. It was a strange feeling, and she wasn’t sure she remembered where the arms went, so she settled for a smirk. ‘Just so you know,’ she said as she accepted the suit. ‘I make a problematic pet.’