The Conference

Sebastian Cross stood from his office chair and circled his desk, hands behind his back. The hologram of a dark-haired human female face mounted on the desk’s corner followed him intently.

“Well,” the face demanded eventually, “if you don’t have them, then who does?”

“I’ve been wondering about that precise question, Cara,” Sebastian said, pausing at a mirror to preen. He smoothed his suit and his long, glossy black hair, then turned back to the hologram of Cara Simmons. “And I have some ideas. I think you do, too.”

“Of course I do. Dr. Winter left in a terrible hurry.” Cara smirked. “I haven’t any idea why.”

Sebastian smiled widely. “Why should you? At the moment, he is the most likely suspect. Him and his…pet. Loathsome creature.”

“Kind of like you.”

The smile on the Aztechnology exec’s face twisted into a snarl that bared his teeth, in particular his long, pointed upper canines. “Watch what you say, slitch! I could have you turning tricks as a joygirl next week if I wanted.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Before Sebastian could spit another invective, the desk’s built-in commlink chimed. “Answer,” he growled instead.

Another face appeared on the desk, this one older, bespectacled, with snow-white hair and a pointed Van Dyke beard.

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “Speak of the devil. Dr. Silas Winter.”

“Most decidedly not at your service,” replied the man in the projection.

“You have Winter on the line?! I want to talk to the son of a bitch.”

“A moment, Cara,” Sebastian said. Then, to the desk’s commlink, “Conference.”

“Winter! You were the one who had ‘runner scum trawling through my warehouse!”

“Of course I was. Who else would it have been? But I am not calling to speak with you, Simmons. I washed my hands of you when I left Renraku. I did not much appreciate the attempt on my life.”

“I should’ve had you shot in the head. Can’t replace brains with cybernetics, can you?” Cara pursed her lips smugly. “How’s it feel to not be able to sling spells anymore?”

Winter’s face remained entirely impassive. “Sebastian, I was calling to inform you that I shall soon be in possession of not only the Elder Medallion but also the only extant copy of Al Azif. I have a—competent—team working to track it down. An unorthodox team, given, but competent.

“Considering how Ms. Simmons relieved me of all magical ability when she had my body crushed under several tons of concrete and steel, I have no actual way to use either item. But considering that you have a condition you wish to have remedied, and that what we seek may contain answers to both our problems…”

Cara’s sharp laughter cut into the conversation. “I’m sorry to tell you gentlemen, but an individual in my employ has already acquired the book. Rhea has gone to retrieve it from him and should be back momentarily.”

“Well,” Sebastian said, smiling a little too pleasantly as he took a seat behind his desk. “It would seem we are at an impasse.”

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"The Pink Lynx? Is that what we're gonna call it?"