PLANET ORYXS - MORRIAN CITY

Sharp pain throbbed in Dion’s head when he awoke to a beeping noise. He didn’t recognise the sound until he saw the tiny flashing light on his Cuff. There was no caller ID.

“I found it. You’re not going to like it.” The robotic voice stated as though Dion would know what they were talking about. E.Mortal didn’t like small talk.

“Found what?”

“The job. You’ll never have to see Yoshida again.”

“I didn’t mention Yoshida.”

“You didn’t need to. I investigate all my contacts. I know who you are, I know who you owe money to.”

“What’s the job?”

“That’s the thing, it’s not for you.”

“What? Why are you calling?”

“It’s for Atticus.” 

Dion froze. “No. Absolutely not. Not after last night, there is no way.”

“I don’t think you have a choice, Dion. If Yoshida let you go, he has something far worse than death in mind for you,” the distorted voice said with a sigh. “But I don’t need to tell you that, do I?”

Dion winced and rubbed at his chest. It didn’t hurt much anymore, but he still felt exhausted. E.Mortal was right. He couldn’t just let that kind of money go. Big-paying jobs were rare. Not many people in the Galaxy had huge amounts of money to spend on criminal activity. Dion hadn’t even expected to get a call back so quickly.

“I’ll talk to him.” Dion covered his face to block the sunlight that filtered through the window.

“I already did,” E.Mortal said, “He was the one who told me to call you. Apparently, you didn’t answer the door when he knocked.”

Dion swore and got up quickly. “I’ll call you back.”

“You have a meeting with the client at 11:00. Don't be late; you might scare her off. Atticus has the address.”

“I didn’t accept the job yet.”

“You will.” E.Mortal ended the call.

Dion stared at the DataCuff with a scowl. He hated dealing with E.Mortal. Everything he said was always right. Dion wasn’t sure if E.Mortal was good at manipulating people or just an expert at manipulating Dion.

Atticus was sitting at the table watching a tv show on Old Fart. Occasionally he snickered quietly to himself at the one-liners while he fiddled with an empty water bottle.

When Dion approached, Atticus was startled and stared at him wide-eyed. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

“I’m sorry,” Atticus said first, looking away shamefully.

“Me too. I should have been home sooner.”

“Did you talk to E.Mortal?”

“I did.”

“Are we taking the job?”

“Do you want to take the job?”

Atticus seemed to think about it for a moment before he shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know what the job is yet. I was just told to dress fancy,” he said as he stopped the video and pulled up the address. It was for a high-end restaurant in the upper-class sector of the city.

“I don’t know if we have clothes nice enough to enter a place like that.”

“What about Pippa, next door? She said she would lend us clothes again after the last time we needed them.”

Dion nodded quietly and touched his own face. It was still bruised and swollen.

“What happened?” Atticus finally asked, “You looked like a mess last night.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dion scoffed, crossing his arms. “I ran into Ren yesterday.”

Atticus stood up quickly. “What!? And he just let you go?” he demanded.

Dion shook his head. “Of course, he didn’t. That’s why we need this job… I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything. For dragging you into this in the first place and for relying on you to fix my problems.”

Atticus beamed with a smug expression. “Let me look after you this time!” He didn’t wait for Dion to respond before he picked a shirt up off the floor and nodded toward the door.

“We’re going now?” Dion asked, brow furrowed.

“It’s already 9:00. We need to see Pippa first. Let’s go.” Atticus excitedly pushed Dion toward the door.

-

It was 11:02. Dion crossed his arms and glared at the maître d' blocking their path. The squat round man was not convinced they belonged here, regardless of how much work they put into looking ‘presentable’. It was hard to blame him; even Dion thought he looked like a thug.

Dion’s brown undercut was slicked back with gel, but his bruised face was still an eyesore. His shoulders had been too broad to fit into her old clothes, so the tight green shirt couldn’t be buttoned up the whole way. They ran out of time to find other alternatives.

Luckily for them, before Pippa had shifted her life direction, her body type had been the same as Atticus’. The combination of his blue hair and a teal suit made it hard not to notice the pale blue of his eyes. 

“Non, non, non. Not here,” the little man tutted at them as he tried to ‘shoo’ them away with his hands. “Reservation only.”

“We have a client waiting for us inside,” Atticus insisted for what seemed like the hundredth time since they’d arrived. The interaction had been repeating the same pattern for the last five minutes.

“Non.” The maître d' shook his head.

“Excuse me, Teddy,” a young woman interrupted. “These people are my guests today.” She was a short girl who looked like she was in her mid-twenties. Her most notable feature was her pastel pink hair, which was so long the tips fell past the hem of her white miniskirt. High heels elongated her legs further. 

The woman placed a manicured hand gently on the squat man’s shoulder and gave him a sweet smile, “Please show them to my table. I will be back shortly.” Her pleasant demeanour fell as soon as her eyes flicked to her guests. Dion saw her eyes examine them quickly and her chest shifted with a curt sigh before she turned away and headed for the restrooms.

Teddy clicked his fingers at one of the wait staff to call them over. He whispered something in the other man’s ear as the wait staff’s face twisted with confusion. 

The new staff member cleared his throat and gestured for the brothers to follow him. “This way, please.” Instead of leading them through the front door, he instead held a side door open for them. 

Atticus was the one to ask the question. “Why that way?”

The staff member cleared his throat again and shifted uncomfortably. “Monsieur Theodore does not wish for you to draw attention from the other guests. He has requested I show you an alternative route to your table. Please, if you will follow me this way.”

Dion rolled his eyes and followed the waiter, Atticus was hot on his tail.

It felt like the waiter had given them a tour of every back room in the complex by the time they had reached the table. The walk had taken so long that the pink-haired woman was already seated at the table again, waiting for them. 

The woman indicated she was ready to order and the waiter pulled out a small notepad.

“I’ll have the—” she stopped and looked at both of the brothers again, “the three of us will have the degustation menu.”

“We won’t,” Dion said, putting a hand on the table to get the waiter's attention, “We don’t plan to stay that long.”

“Three for the degustation menu.” The waiter confirmed, deliberately ignoring Dion before he walked away.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” the pink-haired woman commented on Dion’s bruise. 

“You look like you’ve never had a hard day in your life,” Dion retorted back, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms again. They both glared quietly at each other.

The woman motioned someone over to fill their wine glasses. She folded her hands in front of her face, examining them with visible scrutiny. Dion shifted slightly when it seemed like her eyes lingered a little longer on his chest than anywhere else.

Dion tried to ignore it and took a swig of the wine. It was sweeter than he anticipated. He didn’t understand what the fuss was about; it tasted the same as cheap alcohol to him. It had probably cost this woman more money than Dion could make in a day’s work. 

“E.Mortal tells me you come as a set,” she finally said, taking a sip of the white wine in her glass. Dion caught himself watching her cute pink lips as she drank. 

“I need backup,“ Atticus confirmed with a friendly smile, “I don’t want distractions while I work.”

“I only need one of you. If you come as a set I will consider you both one person. I am not paying extra for someone I don’t need.” Her tone made it sound like they would try to extort her. Dion was offended, even if the thought had crossed his mind before they arrived.

“Then I don’t work for you, I work for him,” said Dion, nodding to his brother, “You don’t tell me what to do and I won’t get in the way.”

“Deal,” the woman said, holding her hand out to Atticus. “My name is Hyejin Choi.”

“Atticus. This is Dion,” Atticus replied, taking her hand. “What do you want from me?”

“I need to break into the Oryxs NexTech Branch and find encrypted information in Director Zellon’s personal files,” Hyejin stated.

The brothers both stared at her with open mouths. “Did you just say break into NexTech? As in physically being inside?” Atticus asked.

“The data I am looking for isn’t accessible from the outside. There is an eight-layer biometric wall in an isolated internal network that I need to bypass. No passwords, no backdoors, wrong genetics. E.Mortal tells me you’re the only person in the Galaxy who has ever successfully hacked NexTech systems.”

Dion’s mind was swimming. He knew a big job would be dangerous, but this wasn’t what he had in mind.

“What on Mother Earth are you looking for?” There was no tact or attempt from Atticus to hide how appalled he was by the idea.

“That’s for me to know. I just need you to get into the system. Can you do it?”

Atticus slumped back in his chair and looked away for a moment. He seemed to pick at his teeth with his tongue while he thought. Dion didn’t know much about what Atticus did once he was jacked in. The jargon was more technical than he understood, but it seemed like Atticus knew exactly what Hyejin was asking for.

The waiter started to bring out food while they sat there in silence. Dion had never seen bread topped with so much colourful mush before. He didn’t recognise the ingredients.

“It's tomato,” Hyejin offered, apparently noticing the boys’ fascination with the dish. She raised her knife and fork in a way that encouraged them to do the same. Shame and embarrassment soured Dion’s features when he realised the young woman was trying to teach them how to eat.

Atticus didn’t seem to mind. He followed Hyejin’s example with no complaints. “Woah!” he cried out when the tomato hit his tongue. “This is amazing!”

“It’s a plant from Earth. It came on the arc that brought humanity. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to grow on most planets, so it’s not readily available,” Hyejin told him between bites. There was a small smile on her face. “We still have three more courses left, so eat fast.”

The blue-haired boy’s face fell, “Oh… no, we can’t…” He looked at Dion for assistance.

“I’m paying for it. Relax. If you can get me what I want, I will give you anything in return.” Hyejin took a sip of the wine, encouraging Atticus to do the same with a small hand gesture.

She was stroking her ego, Dion decided. A bleeding-heart that prided herself on using her privilege to help the ‘needy’. Atticus and Dion were her new pet project.

Atticus was still a little uneasy about the job. “But how do we get in? They would be kitted up to the teeth in surveillance and defence technology. We would be filled with laser punctures the moment we stepped foot inside the building.”

“A distraction. One big enough that all their attention is on it and not us.” 

“And that is?” Dion asked.

“You’re not the only people I am in contact with. There are two more. I was going to go collect them if you agreed.” 

“Who would be stupid enough to break into a NexTech building?” Dion scoffed, taking a sip of the wine.

“Us, for a start,” Atticus replied. There was a look in his eyes that told Dion not to argue. They needed the money. What choice did they have?

Dion sat the glass back on the table a little too roughly, looking away.

Atticus turned all his attention back to Hyejin. “If you can get us in, I can get what you want,” he confirmed.

The smile on Hyejin’s face was enough to light the room. “Perfect!” she practically squealed, “I’ll send you the flight details. We’ll pick up the others together.”