And now 'Sylia Stingray'....
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Quote:Sylia’s apartment on Marsbase Sara was dead.________________________________
That’s what it felt like. It was like a photograph. It was a television set. It was a showhouse. It was, in Maico’s opinion, most definitely somewhere someone did not live. The shelving was too bare. Lingerie catalogues and motorcycle magazines were months out of date, and completely unread.
And most of all, it was sterile.
No dust. No dirt. No wearing on the floor. The cooker had been spotless. It smelled faintly of perfume and that was it. None of the comfortable smells of a lived-in building. No scent of breakfast. No faint odour from the bathroom. Just dead, clean air.
“I’m away on business a lot,” Sylia told her with a smile, “Nobody told me running a company would be such a pain,”
Sylia herself was a curiousity. She dressed in a strange way... for a businesswoman. When had a high-collared, sleeveless, bare-midriffed blouse ever been in fashion? It was classy sure, but seemed to belong to another universe. Her figure seemed perfectly natural... a little on the athletic side hinting at someone who liked a little aerobics. Brown eyes seemed bright and intelligent, and her hair was trimmed and raven with a slight reddish sheen.
Someone seeking a particular appearance maybe, Maico wondered.
“Thanks for taking the time to see me on such short notice,” said Maico
“I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. Despite the name, I have nothing to do with the Knight Sabers,”
What accent was that? British, washed through Australia by way of a little America. Something about her voice seemed just a little bit forced, a little slip of her accent. Something wasn’t right here...
“I suspected as much,” Maico smiled at her. “Maybe you could tell me, just for my notes. Which came first? You, or the company,”
Keep her talking. Maybe somebody could make something of this..
“I came before the company. I bought SME from another Crisis fen who’d set it up as a shell, and started expanding it into a working business.”
“I see... I think I met her. Jet Jaguar?”
She knew she met her.
“That was her.”
“So you were involved in the original Highway Star then?”
“No.” Sylia shook her head “I didn’t hear about the company until your report on the record, and thought it was a damned shame Miss Jaguar only wanted to use it as a shell. I bought it off her.”
“But of course...” said Maico.
There it was again. Just a slip revealing a huskier, hoarser voice right around the word ‘Jaguar’. A voice that might’ve belonged to a smoker, or a post-concert singer. Someone who spent a lot of time shouting.
“And the Knight Sabers themselves, can you tell me how you feel about them?”
“I tiold you, I have nothing to do with them,”
“I know, but people are drawing natural conclusions...”
“Tell me about it,” Sylia sighed with a smile. “I think they’re doing a lot of good. Or trying to.”
“Even with the latest reports of their attacks on the UBA?”
“They have their reasons, I’m sure,” Sylia said flatly. “In the original source, the Knight Sabers stood for what was right, for justice. If they’re Crisis fen, and they’re sticking to the source, they won’t be anything else.”
“Thank you,” said Maico with a gentle nod. “Now if you;ll excuse me, I’ve a shuttle to catch,”
Sylia lead her to the door, with a hand on her back. Strange, thought Maico. There’s something really strange about her.
She sent the footage to Ryan, to see what he made of her.
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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?