Noah and Terri entered the lavish circular office of the Communion Proctor in Corvos. Books lined the perimeter, interrupted by the odd artifact salvaged from the ruins of the old Caliphate. She was facing away from them, transcribing TYKOL inscriptions upon a whiteboard from an old unlabeled leather book held open in her other hand. An impressive black glass table dominated the center. The skylight hung two stories above them, and the light above oscillated from passing clouds.

            Noah and Terri waited at the entrance. 

            “Hello?” Terri announced. 

            “Stand by?” she said while continuing her work. She lacked exaggerated feminine characteristics. Cropped bleached hair above a long neck extended her stretched, elven physique. Sharp, pencil-thin lips hung under a button nose.

            “We’re on time,” Noah said.

            “I never said you weren’t.”

            “Behave,” Terri whispered to Noah.

            “It’s a power play,” he said.

            “The box in front is the down payment,” the woman said, still fixated on the whiteboard.

            Terri approached the desk and unlocked the waiting crate. Bundled in paper packing sat six brass globes and a pouch of rattling coins. 

            “Six globe hydrocells and a thousand brass,” the woman said. “Will have it delivered within the hour before you leave.”

            “Good start,” Terri said.

            “Says you,” Noah said.

            “Another dozen and ten thousand upon retrieval,” the woman responded, finally rotating to face the two. She stopped upon noticing Noah.

            “Oh,” she said.

            “Likewise…” Noah said. Terri glanced at her friend, who returned the look. “Yes, I know. Doctor...Syn Fallin”

            “I wish you didn’t,” Syn said.

            “That was three years ago,” Noah said.

            “Two.”

            “For what it’s worth, I’m—”

            “It’s not.”

            “Well,” Terri said, “we can just stick a pin in this touching interchange…I thought this was a legal or church matter...is this going to be an issue?” 

            “Perhaps I should consider another team,” Syn said.

            “We’re here, Doctor Fallin. We’re able and willing.”

            “It’s not a matter of faith...it’s a matter of…”

            “It’s the latter,” Noah said. “You’re not expecting us to survive.”

            “Aww, you do care,” Terri said without sincerity. “You underestimate our abilities, doctor. Now, if you please, the contract?”

            Syn stepped closer to her desk to place her book. She retrieved a pen and opened her ledger.

            “Very well,” she said. “Affiliation?”

            “Independent Transport Union,” Terri said.

            “Train?”

            “Vanderov Express.”

            “License Code?”

            “RBX-888.”

            Syn paused. 

            “RBX is a privateer designation,” she said.

            “We’re not pirates,” Noah said.

            “Of course,” she said with a slight sarcastic tone, “legal pillaging only.”

            “Artifact retrieval?” Terri asked.

            “Yes.”

            “Technology?” 

            “The details are in the contract.” 

            “Generous compensation,” Noah said. Syn circled the deck and handed a bound scroll to Noah.

            “Note the destination,” Syn said. Noah unfurled the contract and read the details. He centered on an important point.

            “Oh,” he said, then handed it to Terri. “It’s the latter, skipper.”

            Syn’s brow furrowed, and her attention shifted between the two. 

            “You’re the conductor?” she asked.

            “Sorry, I don’t have my hat,” Terri said.

            “My apologies for being presumptuous. I rather enjoy the idea of him taking orders from you.” Noah rolled his eyes. “Do you have faith in…the rest…of your crew?”

            “Every one of them. Fully capable,” Terri said.

            “And they can manage any threat or situation presented?”

            “Absolutely. I command a full complement qualified to handle any encounter.”

            “What’s a full complement?”

            “Us and four other people,” Terri said as she rolled up the scroll.

            “That’s…it?”

            “All we need. We got a railrunner,” Terri said, “a tooley who’s a real ballast scorcher, and our bug slinger is—”

            “I’m sorry, ballast scorcher? Bug slinger?”

            “Rail slang,” Noah said.

            “Our engineer is capable,” Terri said, “and our brakeman is a loginoid.”

            “A loginoid,” Syn said 

            “That going to be an issue?”

            “On the contrary, it’s a selling point. Are we settled then?” 

            “Not exactly,” Noah said. “You sent a message specifically for us, but you weren’t aware I was on board.” It twisted into a confrontation, but Noah needed to know the truth, not that it was easy to come by with Syn. Not that she ever lied, only as an alternative to speaking the truth, she wouldn’t speak at all.

            “You were on record for prior Communion contracts,” Syn said, “and you were the nearest on file. Seeing you among the crew explains why.”

            “How important is this?” Terri asked.

            “Very,” Syn said.

            “So why not do it yourself?” 

            Syn didn’t answer.

            “She already has,” Noah said. “How many expeditions preceded ours?”

            “Two,” Syn said.

            “First one didn’t return, so you sent another. Did anyone come back?”

            Syn paused, delaying the inevitable. Noah was right; she wouldn’t lie.

            “Not…exactly,” she said.

            “Well, that instills me with confidence,” Terri said.

            “A compartmentalized report you’re not privy to,” Noah said.

            “As you’re no doubt aware. The church employs me; I’m neither indentured nor a priest.” 

            “But you do pray,” Noah said.

            “They won’t send another noble stock,” Terri said, “so you went looking for the closest train on the list. You’ve not a clue what’s waiting out there. Do you even know what we’re searching for?”

            “It’s in the report,” Syn said.

            “…and how did it know?” 

            “Is that necessary?”

            Terri took in a long breath and blew it out as a sigh.

            “Technically…no…and we’re not in a position to decline.”

            “Skipper?” Noah asked, but it wasn’t a question. 

            “We’ll accept. Have the payment delivered hastily, and we’ll depart within the hour.”

            Terri offered only a passing glance to the other two, shook her head, and left them alone. 

            Syn took a step closer. Noah remembered her beautiful green-blue eyes.

            “Be careful,” she said, faking apathy and failing. “There’s a part of me wishing you’d said no.”

            “Just do it,” Noah said, changing the topic. “...I deserve it.”

            “You won’t even try to make amends?” she asked.

            “It wouldn’t help.”

            “It’d offer the opportunity for me to disappoint you.”

            “You can and should take the opportunity to lash out. If you want, I can feign remorse and beg for absolution—” 

            “Doesn’t work if you telegraph—”

            “But don’t think you ever had or could disappoint me.”

            “Then why—” 

            “I did what I did because I made a single critical error.”

            “I’m riveted by your sudden desire to expound. Do tell.”

            “I hated your religion more than I loved you.” Syn’s mouth opened to counter, but she stayed silent. “I had faith in you, but I couldn’t absolve who you answered to. This is business, it’s different, but if you wanted my heart, they couldn’t have yours.”

            “So that’s why; it wasn’t out of selfishness?”

            “That’s how it manifested, and I admit it was misdirected. Your response was warranted, unavoidable, and unfortunately…expected.”

            “Complete the mission. Come back alive. Get paid.  Like you said. Business—”       

            “You should’ve lashed out. Just as you should while I’m here.”

            “I took the—I’m taking the high ground.”

            “Your people DO like claiming they’re above everyone else—”

            Syn drew her hand back to strike.

            “About fucking—”

            Syn struck Noah across the face with an open palm as hard as she could, and it rattled his skull. 

            He felt it and let the pain sit.

            “Feel better—” he said.

            “Come back…and then I never want to see you again,” she said.

            Noah made for the exit.

            “You’re better than the people you follow.”

Chris