05-10-2020, 01:02 AM
“...so soon after the last time? I was a kid, but I remember it. Momentous year in hindsight, I suppose. They called it an anomaly then, and they say this one was like it in scale. That pushes the science out by, oh, around 10,000 years.” He gestured with his glass as he spoke, the vintage timepiece on his wrist catching sparkles in the light. She couldn’t quite catch glimpse enough to hazard a guess at the age, but it was quite beautiful.
A pleasant smile curved her lips, amused. He was always so earnest, and she mostly found it charming. Certainly there were duller jewels in her social circle. “I didn’t take you for a conspiracist, Ephraim.”
“Conspiracist?” He laughed. “No, of course not. But I do believe in being prepared. We must consider the world we’ll bequeath to our children, no?” His eyes glinted over the rim of his glass, but when he lowered it empty to the table his smile was all charm. The server Zhenya had signalled promptly arrived to top the vodka afresh, though he barely broke stride in the conversation. Her warm gaze offered the thanks in his stead. “And thus a rather inelegant bridge to business. Early, I know. Forgive me, there’s a reason.” He held up a finger, shot a quick grin, and scooped up his drink. “Something of a preface, if you’re willing to indulge?”
She laughed, clinking his glass with a wink. “Always.”
“The world changes, and those such as you and I change with it. I was there that night -- the fundraiser, you recall? And I saw…” His brows rose, and her head tilted into the pause. She knew some of the story, of course, and plenty of the rumours, though she had not been there. Not something they ought discuss in public at any rate. “Well. Aside from that, I saw the Rods of Dominion. At least one of them ex-military.” He smiled, and let the inference hang, given the staple of Pervaya’s operators. She waited for him to continue. “You’re in the business of protecting people, Zhenya, so I know you appreciate the quandary. At such a crossroads I believe we can be of use to each other.”
She’d heard this before, or pretty variations, and despite Ephraim’s affability he was not given to futility. He had something new to offer, clearly, and by the gleam of him he really did fancy his chances of a deal this time. For now he waved it away, though. “Details later, of course. The night is young. That’s the preface over with -- well, but to tell you I have a new acquisition.” He paused, grinned. “Associate, that is. Fresh to the fair city and the way we do business. I believe you’ll find his skillset interesting. He should arrive shortly.”
He sat back, watching her reaction for hints of the hook catching interest. Zhenya was voracious in business, but rarely cold. He was being purposefully vague, but she found little irritation in it; she was a social creature, and had not accepted tonight’s invitation with any real expectation of a serious outcome. She laughed instead, looking past the inferences of Pervaya’s precariousness in a world where channelers existed. She took no offence. Ephraim had never met John White, one such soul she would not hesitate to entrust with her own life, or the one more precious, despite that he was just a man. “Ah, I see,” she said. “Did you at least warn him to expect a Russian welcome?” She pressed her own glass to her lips, dark eyes sweeping the bar to seek out the mystery.
A pleasant smile curved her lips, amused. He was always so earnest, and she mostly found it charming. Certainly there were duller jewels in her social circle. “I didn’t take you for a conspiracist, Ephraim.”
“Conspiracist?” He laughed. “No, of course not. But I do believe in being prepared. We must consider the world we’ll bequeath to our children, no?” His eyes glinted over the rim of his glass, but when he lowered it empty to the table his smile was all charm. The server Zhenya had signalled promptly arrived to top the vodka afresh, though he barely broke stride in the conversation. Her warm gaze offered the thanks in his stead. “And thus a rather inelegant bridge to business. Early, I know. Forgive me, there’s a reason.” He held up a finger, shot a quick grin, and scooped up his drink. “Something of a preface, if you’re willing to indulge?”
She laughed, clinking his glass with a wink. “Always.”
“The world changes, and those such as you and I change with it. I was there that night -- the fundraiser, you recall? And I saw…” His brows rose, and her head tilted into the pause. She knew some of the story, of course, and plenty of the rumours, though she had not been there. Not something they ought discuss in public at any rate. “Well. Aside from that, I saw the Rods of Dominion. At least one of them ex-military.” He smiled, and let the inference hang, given the staple of Pervaya’s operators. She waited for him to continue. “You’re in the business of protecting people, Zhenya, so I know you appreciate the quandary. At such a crossroads I believe we can be of use to each other.”
She’d heard this before, or pretty variations, and despite Ephraim’s affability he was not given to futility. He had something new to offer, clearly, and by the gleam of him he really did fancy his chances of a deal this time. For now he waved it away, though. “Details later, of course. The night is young. That’s the preface over with -- well, but to tell you I have a new acquisition.” He paused, grinned. “Associate, that is. Fresh to the fair city and the way we do business. I believe you’ll find his skillset interesting. He should arrive shortly.”
He sat back, watching her reaction for hints of the hook catching interest. Zhenya was voracious in business, but rarely cold. He was being purposefully vague, but she found little irritation in it; she was a social creature, and had not accepted tonight’s invitation with any real expectation of a serious outcome. She laughed instead, looking past the inferences of Pervaya’s precariousness in a world where channelers existed. She took no offence. Ephraim had never met John White, one such soul she would not hesitate to entrust with her own life, or the one more precious, despite that he was just a man. “Ah, I see,” she said. “Did you at least warn him to expect a Russian welcome?” She pressed her own glass to her lips, dark eyes sweeping the bar to seek out the mystery.