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They were back in the safety of the Corporate Rim, and if that wasn't the most ironic thing Gurathin had ever thought. At least here, GrayCris couldn't bash down their door and gun them down. Not that his paranoid mind didn't tell him that there was very little to stop them if they really wanted to.
He did his best to push those thoughts down.
There was no way he was going to let his guard down, not now. The walls of their hotel suite were a unique cage pressing down on him as Gurathin was left to his own devices.
He pulled away from the rest, silently residing in a corner until he was sure they wouldn't notice him slipping away. Any other day, the team wouldn't have let him get away with it. Somebody would eventually realize they hadn't talked to him that day and would promptly come and find him. They were too stressed and too worried at the moment for that.
SecUnit was still missing, but Gurathin had faith that the others would find it in no time.
He, on the other hand, worried about something else.
The company wouldn't waste any time stripping SecUnit of its recorded data; no company worth its credit would, in fact. And then they would wipe its memories and send it out on another assignment. The representative all but confirmed it was a done deal.
There wasn't any time to waste.
His mind's eye hovered over a contact as his plan took a solid shape.
It was a stupid, reckless plan.
That's why the others couldn't suspect a thing.
Back then, before the survey, Gurathin told Mensah that she was too naive. He meant it then, and he still did now. But maybe that was the reason they managed to make it this far – the stubborn dedication to hope, the belief that they could come out on top. Not letting go, no matter how dire the situation seemed.
He was naive, too, of course. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here, doing this.
Here was something he could do. But doing so would be like dipping his toes back into the life he left behind. They would never allow it, especially not Mensah. The risk was too high. They would be outraged that he would even suggest it. (Maybe they would also be disappointed. Maybe they would be sad. That was more likely, and he better not think about it.)
And it was dangerous, that much would have been clear to anyone. If he was caught, if he was sold out—if his aching nervous system begged for something to take the edge off, —he continued to hover over the contract.
Landers had a cushy position now, the lucky bastard. All it took was to push Gurathin, and who knows how many other people, over the brink. But he had enough dirt on him to twist him into compliance. And he had a family now, a child and a husband, how nice. It was almost enough to make him feel guilty for doing this to him. Almost.
Gurathin sent his composed message before he could start second-guessing himself. (He can regret it later.)
It was not a surprise that he got a message back immediately.
How he wished he could see his face now. His old junky friend was coming back with demands. (He hoped he was squirming.)
A petty, selfish, little part of him would have reveled in it more. He quickly squashed it down; he had a plan to carry out.
Then came the news: they knew where SecUnit was, and they were going to get it. That was Gurathin’s cue to slip away.