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After reading the crumpled piece of paper, Shayla stuffed Tejeda's credentials into her pocket. No scientist or scientific group would ever give away a potential breakthrough due to the possibility of negative consequences. Showing those credentials to the clerks would simply tie their tongues even more.
From what she had read on the mission details, Kirian’s research on organic-eating bacteria could have unforeseen effects. A potential planet-wide purge of all organic components would transform even a bountiful planet in a sea of sand and rock.
“Who’s gonna pay for all this?” One of the Valerian clerks, the one with the dog, pointed toward the mess in the room. Windows shattered, holes in the floor and walls, blood everywhere, Tejeda’s body with two purple tentacles starting to melt, a Surtamite on his back with twenty arms flailing in the air.
Shayla laughed. Only a piece of hefty machinery would get him up on his feet again. No screams came out. Only a few mumbles emerged from his quivering mouth. Thankfully, he was too weary to make a ruckus.
“I bet my partner has a budget for this kind of… property damages.”
“Your partner is dead. I hope you have access to his funds.”
“No, he’s not dead.” Shayla leaned with her elbows on the clerk’s desk and settled her head on her hands. “He’s just playing dead. Don’t worry. He does that quite often. But he won’t be pleased if by the time he’s good to go we haven’t reached an agreement on our trade issue.” She sighed with boredom. “Now, can we please talk business?”
“Of course, of course.” The Valerian clerk sat on his chair on the other side of the desk. “How may I help you?”
‘I need the whereabouts of Kirian and his illegal bacteria’ would have sounded out of place. She had to lie, but there are so many ways to lie, from omission to full-blown, out-of-this-world exaggerations. Things always went well for Shayla when she told the truth as much as possible. Just brushing up the corners, omitting the things she wanted to hide, and focusing on the bits of truth she could reveal.
"Our engineer has created a prototype of self-sufficient repair droids. It passed all non-organic compound tests with flying colors, repairing every structural flaw in record time." She nodded in unison with the clerk, who appeared to be listening intently. "Before we go public with the news, we'd like to test it on organic materials as well. But we need something that can physically chew through organic materials for that. Something like, I don't know, a bacteria? If the Trade Union for the Science Guild can assist us in this situation, I'm confident we can provide you exclusive rights to sell our droids."
Shayla raised her eyebrows and waited for the clerk to process all the information she had dumped onto him. It was so easy for her to imagine his synapses firing bites of data from one neuron to another as his face muscles loosened and a smile appeared. Now, ‘profit’ was written all over his face.
She returned the smile and nodded once more. A trade offer was the key to a merchant's heart. If you offered something too good to be refused, then you could have anything. Only an idiot wouldn't have seen that. Tejeda was an idiot, alright. No argument there.
"Perhaps there is someone who has the 'supply' you are looking for." The clerk took a piece of paper from the stack, turned it upside down without reading the content, and scratched something on it with a chewed-up crayon. "Here is where you can find him. Once you've finished the tests, please message me at the CCC address shown at the bottom. I'll find wealthy buyers."
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