Chapter 24 - Episode: Over Coffee, Exposition

Everyone sitting at the table was on their second cup of coffee, and the baristas had made Drip a little cup of sugar enriched foam and cream. The Baristas had giggled and watched as the Slime prodded the froth at first, before quickly slurping it up. Gene was up to speed and typing away at a laptop she'd brought with her.

“Okay, so all we know is that some shady folks are looking around, at the same time that officially nothing is happening with CCS totally not being taken over by some private firm.” Her sarcasm was limited to a few words in each in her summary, having spent much of it in the coy banter with Cornelia earlier.

Now she was in 'work mode', Captain Rachel looking over her shoulder to supervise and make sure she wasn't doing anything illegal, while she accessed the City Wide Network through the Cafe's wireless router. The Captain would occasionally make small requests of Gene:


“Could you check through there? Please, don't access that. That does look interesting, doesn't it? Here, Try my codes.” Eric was certain that whatever they were doing was legal in the letter of the law; but the spirit of it was taking a right paddling. He and Cornelia, feeling like spare wheels, had been making small talk.

“So, you're going to 'attend' one of the Professor's classes?”

“I'm curious to see what the young people think of the military,” Eric admitted, “Plus I need to collect on an investment at my dear Alma Mater...”

“You went to Nine Lotus, damn I knew you were from money,” Eric held up a hand.

“I went there for the name recognition,” Eric explained, “I'd already learned everything they taught me growing up on a Farm. But the 'quiet' job I had planned out for after my tour isn't the sort to let you in without some kind of certification.”

“The Military doesn't cover that?”

“My Big Brother talked about how a lot of what he was qualified for got sealed up, made finding a job after his service difficult.”

“How much family do you have?” Cornelia asked. Eric leaned back and thought. 

“From the Top, Mom and Pop,” He ticked off two fingers, “My big sister: Lenora, and big Brother: Arthur.” Two more fingers, “Then there's me,” He popped up his thumb and pointed at his chest. “Then there's my little sisters, Debbie and Dawn, and Morgan my crazy little brother.” He had three fingers up in his other hand as he shrugged and sighed. “Brat just turned eighteen, and is already making trouble.”

“Should I be worried?” Cornelia asks, a smirk on her face. Eric laughed and pulled out his phone. He pulled up a picture of Morgan, but not the one he'd sent him the other night. Still, the slim figured teenager on the screen was dressed in stockings, a plaid skirt that went to the knees, a silky blouse and had their hair in a fine braid. “Here he is.” He turned the phone to show Cornelia. 

“Wait, that's-”

“My brother, at his eighteenth birthday party.” He chuckled  as Cornelia blushed. “Yup.”

“And you're parent's are okay with him dressing like that?”

“Mom bitches that he goes through nylon stockings faster than our sisters, but that's cause he's running around all the time. He acts like he hates work but he's probably one of the harder workers of us. He just hides it well.”

“What's he do?”

“End Consumer Intel.” Eric looks and gestures at the store. “He goes to places we sell to, and finds out how our products are being used, if there's problems with transportation from this end.” He points at the counter where the baristas are serving. “Sometimes the middle managers screw over the counter workers to save some coin.” Eric shook his head. “That's not how to run a good business.” He sips at the last of his coffee. 

“So what happens?”

“Usually one of our family buys out the store out from under a franchisee, gives everyone a raise, and we train the store manager in running the franchise so they can take over if they want to.” He gets up to get in line for a refill. Cornelia gets up to follow him.

“So you flip the store?”

“If the manager doesn't want to become a new franchisee, yeah.” Eric nods. “We don't hold onto them for very long.” He yawns. “It gets complicated holding onto that many different assets. We help, train, then get out of their way.”

“That's the 'Wyre way' of doing business?” Cornelia asks, and Eric chuckles.

“We are pretty infamous in some economic circles,” Eric admits. “But hey, we're not doing anything illegal,” He points out, “and we haven't laid anyone off in twenty-one years,” He quoted the number, “and that's more than any of our competition can say.” 

He faced forward as he came up to the counter, and the Baristas waited to take his and Cornelia's orders.

The first woman had her dark blonde hair pulled up in a bun, which itself was held in a sleek cover to keep her hair out of it. Her uniform fit her curves tightly and she smiled as Eric walked up to the counter.

“Need another?” She asked, “Same way?” Eric nodded, twice, setting the cup on the table. “Busy guy, aren't you?” she said with a smile as Cornelia stepped up to her coworker, a brunette who was leaning forward on the counter. From Eric's angle, he could tell she was leaning a bit further than she needed to, if all she wanted was to take Cornelia's cup for a refill. Her sleek dark hair fell around her eyes as she gave Eric a smile and he couldn't help how her uniform filled out as well as her friend's. 

Focus, soldier! His inner voice commanded. Your dance card is full to bursting and you've got a date tonight that's gonna knock your damn socks off! He dialed down the smile he gave in return. 

“Yeah, pretty busy,” He said, a bit blandly. He swiped his cash card over the register and took his refill. The two ladies seemed a little saddened by his cool turn, but Cornelia sidled up beside him on the short walk back to their table. He felt her warm hip against his, and her arm gently brushing against his side. He cocked his head and saw her smiling, softly.

Right move, Laddie. His inner voice approved.

Gene and Rachel were talking animatedly and pointed at various parts of the laptop's screen.

“Find something good?” Eric asked, rhetorically, as he set down their drinks in front of them.“Or just another wall?” He finished as he sat down.

“Both,” Rachel answered, and Gene's lips pulled into a grin so wide, Eric thought it'd pop off and become a Cheshire. “Gene, if you would?”

“Right, so,” She pointed at Drip. “We think we figured out what's got them in such a twist over this little lady.” She gently stroked her finger over Drip's surface, and the Slime cooed, happily.

Wuuurp.

“Okay,” Eric prodded, “What?”

“We've been looking into city security, and started looking around for this knock off, and any other cars like it, in the area. Manually.” She added.

“So you don't trip a 'search' bug,” Eric nodded.

“Right.” Gene nodded, “Following that, we found these guys were hanging out at a lot of middle range Sequencer clinics.”

“The sort that give you funny iris colors?”

“The sort that grow 'temporary tails' and other 'appendages', for a price.” Gene grinned lewdly, and finger quoted the words. Cornelia blushed deeply.

“Oh,” Eric looked at Drip again, and the Slime wobbled to the side, in a 'head cock' sort of shape. “Any idea what they were doing?”

“Well, those clinics, by law, have to declare their whole ordering inventory to the Police.” She pointed across her chest to where Rachel was sitting.
“Because plenty of the chemicals they use could end up being abused if not tracked properly.”

“What did you find?”

“Well, certain items are used for certain procedures, and these chemicals,” she pointed at a pen and napkin list, “Aren't used in any of the procedures available at those clinics.” She tapped her finger. “They're also ordered in quantities that would fit easily in the back of one of those vehicles,” She tapped a second finger on the napkin. “What's more,” she grinned and held up three fingers, waggling them, “A matching van was seen outside of one of these clinics, on their shipment dates, for the past month.”

“That's a lot of chemicals,” he looked at Drip, “Too much to fit into this little girl.” He rubbed his hand over her surface, and Drip wiggled happily against his palm.

Wuuuuuuurp! She cooed.

Gene nodded, “Yeah, that's not the weird part though.” She pointed at the chemicals. “Most of these are used in major medical procedures: nerve and brain tissue reconstruction.” She tapped the napkin and Rachel leaned forward. "So I don't know what they're doing with it."

“But they're also used in the growth of synthetic brain tissue.” She added, and crossed her arms.

Eric's eyes widened, and felt his focus broaden.

The level of money and influence being used to keep whatever Drip was involved in covered up had to be a major operation. It would have to be something that would get a lot of people arrested, or exiled from the City, if it were exposed.

“Illegal Fabrication of Individuals.” Eric whispered. "Or the production of Wetware: 'Brain Chips'."

Gene's eyes widened in shock, Cornelia's jaw dropped, and Rachel's gaze fell to her hands, as she laced her fingers together. “It's the simplest answer. Someone is making slave labor and Drip was part of the process. She slipped out and they have to catch her or risk the operation being exposed.”

“But when she was scanned at the Precinct, we didn't find anything like that in her data.”

“Maybe we were scanning for the wrong thing.” Eric said. “These guys have cars that use different networks for their communications, what if Drip's data is the same way?”

“Oh my god,” Gene laughed, “I just had an idea. Hold on.” She got up from the table and walked over to the counter where the Baristas were chatting. Rachel was quiet.

“Captain, are you going to be okay?” Cornelia asked, Rachel's fingers curled up and her hands looked like she was praying.

“I'm conflicted, Cornelia... Just the thought of... this... makes part of me wants to scan every drop of Drip until I find the answers so I can find these bastards,” She confessed, and Eric noticed  her optics were dilated, wide, and locked on Drip.

It felt a lot like how the Regulator had looked at Drip earlier.

“Rachel.” Eric said sternly. 

“I know,” The police chief shakes her head, and her optics contract to a more normal aperture, “It would harm her, irreparably. That's what I'm telling myself.” Rachel's words were slow. “I know there's a right way to find these answers.” She said, as her phone rang. “That's Linda's ring tone” She picked up her phone and brings it up to her face. “Hello, Linda. What's up?” She asked, forcing a causal into her tone. “Oh, balls.” She sighed.

“That's a great segue.” Eric leaned back in his chair.

“There are three of those black vehicles at intersections around the precinct building. No prizes for guessing whom they're waiting for.” Her optics tightened until they're pinholes, and Eric wondered if she had tapped into the security feeds around the city. She was the Police Chief, it would be within her rights to have that power.

“Anyone come in to 'ask' for Agent Tarquin?” Eric asked, and Rachel shook her head. “Small favors.” He said.

“Keep me informed. Thank you, Linda.” She said and ended the call as Gene returned, with something in her hands. “What do you have there?” She asked Gene and the slicer sat down in her seat again.

“Is that a code scanner?”

“Yep,” Gene nods, “an off the shelf, low power, IR data scanner. Not a high yield 'official' one they use to scan deep into Constructs.” She says. “Drip, honey? Could you come over here?” She asked, and Eric watched as Drip slid and slurped over to Gene's side of the table, as Gene plugged the scanner's USB into her laptop and typed a few keystrokes before picking up the scanner by the handle. “Now this won't hurt a bit.” She promised and pulled the trigger, switching the scanner from 'stand by' to 'active'.

Drip didn't scream, didn't coo, didn't shake, or try to run.

Drip was perfectly, utterly, still. 

As the infrared beams of light ran over her surface, they caused the membrane to stiffen and dimple with dots and ridges.

“What the hell?” Eric wondered aloud. This was just getting more confusing. Someone had used braille to encode secret data inside of Drip?

“Awesome,” Gene scanned with one hand and typed with the other. “I don't even have to move, she's sliding new data into the beam's field.”

“So she is carrying data," Rachel tapped her chin. "What kind?”

“Should we be doing this here?” Cornelia asked, and looked over her shoulder. The only customers in the cafe were students doing homework, and the baristas were... gone?

“I gave them some incentive to go in the back,” Gene said offhand. Eric saw her cheeks blush slightly. She might have been the sort to 'enjoy' her data work that much, but Eric wondered if it was something else.

“What kind of incentive,” Eric asked, and Gene looked up from her screen with a smile that would outdo a Cheshire by an imperial mile. 

“Pictures of your dick,” She said, plainly, “In me,” She winked and went back to typing. Rachel and Cornelia started to laugh, and Eric smiled as the grim tension at the table was broken.

Twenty minutes later, they were back at the apartment. The Data scanned from Drip was too dense for her laptop to unravel, and she wanted to create backups in case something happened to it. Rachel and Cornelia were going back to the station to make sure Abigail was kept safe and set up with proper protection. 

The police officers got into Cornelia's car and Eric and Gene waved to them as they drove off. Drip wobbled happily in imitation of their movements. Eric and Gene made small talk on the way up the steps and to the elevator. Belle's office door was closed, but Eric still could clearly recall her appearance from this morning, and his grin widened.

"Thinking about your hot date tonight?" Gene asked as they got into the elevator.

"Yep." Eric acknowledged, unabashed, and Gene grinned. 

"You're not gonna be able to walk tomorrow," Gene crossed her arms under her breasts and Eric laughed.

"Well, if I give as good as I'm gonna get, neither will she." Eric met the shorter woman's gaze and saw the mischief in her eyes. "Are you going to be watching?" He asked. "I'm not gonna be able to take her 'out-out' for dinner, with the Haze and a fucking Regulator."

"She said she was alright with it, when I asked her earlier." Gene smiled, and Eric felt an unspoken question tied to the statement.

"Well, so am I." Eric consented. "Just try and get my good side?" He asked, as the doors opened, and the two stepped out onto the empty walkways.

"Oh, I will, Darling." She said and went on the tips of her toes. Eric leaned down and cupped her chin in his hand as their lips met. It was a soft, warm embrace of tender flesh. Her tongue pushed forward and met his. It might have been a mildly intimate moment, then Gene started to stroke Eric's cock through his pant leg. 

He growled as their kiss intensified, but she stepped back, and let go of his cock. "Just to warm you up for tonight," She winked and before Eric could say a word, she spun on her heel. Eric's eyes widened as her ass danced before his eyes, with each skipping step of retreat, Gene's ass boggled his mind, and hardened his shaft. The thick cheeks bouncing up and down in their soft sweatpants prison. 

Eric felt his cock throb, powerfully, in his pants. He exhaled, and let it linger, as he walked around to his own apartment. He had to focus, had to figure out what he'd be doing for his date with Belle tonight. He had a full pantry, and plenty of time to make food, or he could order a delivery... There were lots of quality places... but he was running short on cash at the moment.

Then what would he do for entertainment. Games, drinking, or movie? He scratched his chin. How would he entertain the beautiful Belle tonight? He grinned as he looked at the problem from a practical standpoin. What was he trying to accomplish? What did he have to work with? What were his constraints? He opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside.

The Engineer grinned at the practical problem, and closed the door behind him. 

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Thanks again to Aeronator and Skiratas, for their editing help. Check the comment section for a brief CYOA type moment!