Back

ODYSSEY

"So, mister..."

"Bouchard, sir."

"Right, Mr. Bouchard. Remind me why you asked for this meeting?"

The older man leaned across his desk, and I couldn't help but immediately straighten my back against the folding chair I'd been provided. Even if the foreman was much too old to be of any physical threat, I'd worked under him long enough to know how... persuasive he could be.

"It's... about the medical evaluation I'd sent in? The one from when I asked for the time off-"

"In March, yes." Calloused fingers immediately began searching through drawers, before pulling out a record that I hadn't expected to be that thick. However, he didn't immediately set to reading it, instead setting the documents between us before returning to his posturing.

"And please, Mr. Bouchard, tell me why these papers were so important that you needed to waste both our-"

"I'm leaving Traxus due to medical disability."

For nearly a minute, the only sound in that office was the clock on the wall.

"...you're what."

"S-Sir, if you'd read the report, you'd see that it's practically illegal for me to still be working here." Admittedly, I couldn't read any of it from this distance anymore, but if we had the same reports, then it didn't matter. I'd memorized that news the day after my doctor's appointment anyways.

It's called cataracts. I've never been one for medical terms, but the doctor says it's when the lens of your eye begins to cloud over. It can be caused by any number of things, but it's likely due to how often I'm exposed to UV lights at work. Curing resin takes time after all, and time isn't exactly something Traxus has.

Either way, turns out threatening the bottom line is a universal method of communication, as only now did the foreman decide to read the report, sitting back in his chair and giving me a moment to breathe easy.

"Well, I can't say I like this Mr. Bouchard. With how long you've been with us, I'd figured you'd respect how important our work here is. Not everyone gets to manufacture parts for humanity's next big achievement after all."

"I don't like it either sir, but... with all due respect, if it worsens while I'm here, I'll just be a liability to the project."

There was also affording to take care of myself and my mother afterwards, not to mention not having much experience outside of engineering, but-

"Of course, of course. You haven't concidered surgery at all?"

"My insurance doesn't cover it, sir."

"Hm. Unfortunate."

Despite his tone and the way he refused to look up at me past the papers, I can't help but wonder if he'd actually read the report before. He was being surprisingly calm about this compared to the man who'd raise his voice across the production floor at any issue.

"Well, Mr. Bouchard, it's unfortunate that someone of your talents is dealt a hand like this, but... perhaps I could make you an offer that'd benefit both of us?"

It was my turn to lean back, fingers interlocking to avoid showing any signs of nervousness. "W-What do you mean?"

"Hey, gearhead." A feminine voice chirped from about a meter behind me. One that'd become more and more frequent over the last few months.

Weeks ago I'd have shot her for even showing her face around here. Granted, she'd do the same for me. I guess we're past formalities now.

"It's Redoubt. Sentinel if you wanna get formal." I sighed, visor whirring as the ferrofluid rearranged in my head. "If you're going to make a habit of harassing me, at least remember my name, Vandal."

Even without turning away from my work, I could hear the shell suck air in through her teeth.

"Ooh, so scary! I think we're still even, by the way. Unless you want me to take a swing?"

"Preferably not."

We'd first met when I'd arrived in Dire Marsh, having taken a contract to repair some scanning equipment near the Anomaly. Why they wanted it and what results they were expecting was much above my pay grade, but it didn't take long for other parties to take interest.

Which is how I'd ended up with this... friend? Acquaintance? Pain in the-

"So... you ever think about why you're here?"

I paused, turning just enough to see her in the corner of my vision. Luckily, she seemed distracted by the equipment a previous runner had "left behind" after a less than diplomatic run in.

"I mean, I've been here so long I can't actually remember how I got here, honestly. You seem a bit greener though, so maybe that defrag shit hasn't scrubbed it away yet? No offense."

I stayed quiet, mulling over what she'd asked.

"...Medical contract. My old job offered to buy out the rights to my digitized copy before I could go blind and... guess they sent it to this backwater dump."

"So you had bad eyes and decided to pack the one shell that doesn't have anything like that? Talk about body issues..."

Whipping around, I pulled the WSTR from my hip and pointed it directly at her, catching the glint of her Bully's barrel rising to meet it. We stood there for a minute, before I decided it wasn't worth it and tucked it back on its hip clamp.

I don't know what her deal is, but... even if she's annoying, it's not bad having someone to actually relate to here, so far from home.

I just wish I could remember what happened after that conversation, before all this.