The Red Queen Hypothesis
The Red Queen Hypothesis
Our broker was already waiting at the rendezvous point, a place wrapped in quiet elegance. Beyond the display, the restaurant practically oozed wealth; even from here I could almost smell the expensive air drifting through the feed.
The way the deal worked was straightforward. We received real-time intel from the broker’s video comms and gave live feedback as the transaction unfolded. Naturally, the other party knew the setup too. All they ever heard on their end was our voices run through a distortion program. The broker had no choice but to sit there staring at the speaker like it was his only lifeline, waiting for the Leash. No funny business possible under those conditions.
Eileen lounged back with a glass of wine, watching the feed like it was a movie. Her carefree attitude nearly dragged a sigh out of me, but then again, why wouldn’t she be relaxed? Getting worked up in a situation like this would’ve just made me look like an idiot, so I forced myself to loosen up too.
The restaurant on the screen, bathed in warm yellow lighting, looked deceptively peaceful. The broker chatted idly with his crew while they waited. Soon enough a knock sounded, and the buyer stepped in.
He left a hulking bodyguard outside. From his clothes he looked like a corporate employee—nothing as obvious as a logo, of course. Once inside, he dropped into his seat with the unconscious arrogance of someone used to being obeyed. The way he talked down to people was practically branded into his bones; he had to be a senior executive from one of the bigger corps.
Sure enough, he slid straight into business with a smooth yet overbearing tone. Total control of the conversation’s flow, executed perfectly.
But the broker wasn’t some amateur either. After years in the game and dealing with plenty of men just like this one, he refused to be swept along. He kept adjusting the rhythm of the talk, never letting the buyer dictate the pace.
The buyer’s expression shifted as he realized the broker wasn’t going to roll over.
The broker smiled and answered smoothly.
The buyer shrugged, then dropped the arrogant overlord act. His face sharpened into that of a cold, professional negotiator.
“All right. Let’s talk business.”
Both sides took the transaction seriously, so it moved along without a hitch. Neither wanted to stir up unnecessary trouble.
The buyer accepted the sample Leash we’d sent ahead through the broker and gave a satisfied nod.
Both Eileen and I leaned in, listening hard. She was obviously focused because it was her intel. I, on the other hand, had no idea what she’d even requested—whether it was about a person or an object. Curiosity prickled at me naturally.
The buyer on the other side of the screen spoke calmly.
“Hey, mass production?” Eileen’s startled voice was instantly distorted and piped through. “For real?”
The buyer gave a small nod.
“Sounds too good to be true,” Eileen muttered.
Now I understood why everyone was so desperate for the Leash. I’d thought it only brainwashed Hounds. The idea that it could also eliminate the need for those brutal stabilizers… If not for the mind-fogging side effects, it might have been perfect.
The buyer took a sip of tea and continued.
Second request? I shot Eileen a confused look. She glanced back at me, then simply jerked her chin toward the screen instead of explaining.
I turned back to the buyer.
I looked at Eileen again. She was whistling innocently, but the occasional sidelong glance gave her away. She hadn’t told me, but she’d clearly remembered my request about the stabilizers.
……
Should I thank her? After a brief internal debate I decided to stay silent. Getting tangled up in pointless emotions like that would only cause headaches later. Eileen didn’t say anything either.
The buyer kept talking, sweetening the deal.
“What exactly is the price?”
The buyer cleared his throat.
“Hmm.”
The involuntary sound slipped out and traveled through the speaker. The buyer’s eyebrows twitched, but at that exact moment a heavy explosion roared from outside the building and the conversation veered off course.
“What the hell is that noise?” the broker asked.
The buyer answered calmly. “Didn’t I just tell you? An era of endless competition. Seems some jealous parties are trying to hijack our deal.”
“Is it safe?”
“Of course. Security forces are crawling all over the area. We can sit here comfortably and finish our discussion.”
The broker still didn’t look entirely convinced. He quietly ordered his men to secure an escape route. The buyer clearly disliked the precaution, but since it was for everyone’s safety he couldn’t complain.
Even so, he kept pushing his offer.
“The jobs won’t be any different from what other corporations usually ask for. Stealing prototype weapons during transport, hacking networks for data, or—”
I cut him off. “Why is your pattern always the same? Are you all infected with some disease that stops you from thinking unless it’s a master-servant relationship?”
The buyer’s face twisted for a split second. Then he regained control and spoke again.
Eileen immediately flicked me on the forehead. I clutched my head, groaning, and glared at her.
“Why are you steering the conversation on your own? We need a continuous supply of Leash, don’t we?”
“What do you want me to do when I hate the way he talks? That’s the fourth time I’ve heard that exact line!”
“Even if you hate it, blurting things out without thinking—”
Eileen finally sighed and moved to wrap up the deal.
I watched the buyer rise from his seat on the screen. The image was shaking harder now. The explosions were strong enough to rattle the whole building; the fight outside had clearly grown fierce.
Even in that chaos the buyer kept his composure. But maybe too much ease really was poisonous.
“Wha—!”
The moment he opened the door, several gun barrels shoved their way in. A storm of gunfire followed. The buyer’s body turned into a bloody honeycomb.
The broker was already on his feet, bolting for the escape route his crew had prepared. Not a trace of panic on his face—he’d clearly been through this before.
Over the violently shaking feed came the broker’s voice.
Eileen stood, already reaching for her gear as if she’d been expecting this.
“Well, it was his fate. You did good work. I’ll come pull you out soon, so stay inside the building and wait.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I rolled my eyes but stood up and followed her. No point waking JL, who was still fast asleep on the sofa.