Barabas opened his mouth. I shook my head. It would be better if I said it.
“Bob, it’s not up to you. I’ve been registered as a corporate member for over a year. I can enroll my auxiliaries any time.”
“She’s right,” the Clerk said.
“You’ll be liable if they screw up,” Bob said.
“Fine, you’re enrolled,” Sonia said. “The Clerk will do the paperwork.”
Bob spread his arms.
“What?” Sonia gave him a look. “I want to see where this is going. The three of you are in.”
I stepped back. Barabas stepped forward. “Cutting Edge invokes the Donations and Charitable Contributions provision. In accordance with financial limits, Cutting Edge donates $150,000 to the Guild, $50,000 per auxiliary member, to be earmarked as follows: $18,000 for the repair of the roof, $10,000 for the repair of the interior, $12,000 to settle the outstanding balances on utility bills . . .”
He kept going. How had he even managed to figure out all of this in less than forty-eight hours? With each item Bob’s expression darkened a little more.
“. . . and finally the remaining $16,000 to restock the supply of ammunition for the weapons room. In the interests of making sure the money is distributed as assigned, Cutting Edge designates me as the treasurer for these funds.”
“All in favor of grabbing this money before they change their mind and appointing that guy to handle all the admin crap with it?” Rigan asked.
“Don’t you see?” Bob pointed at Curran, who loomed next to Barabas in his dark cloak. “It’s him. He’s bankrolling it.”
“I don’t give a flying snake who is bankrolling it,” Sonia told him. “It’s money, Bob! Money in hand!”
Bob ground his teeth. “We all fought for this spot. We earned it. You can’t just let an outsider come in and take it over. He’s buying his way in.”
“Would you care to explain how exactly I am an outsider?” I asked. “That’s mean of you, Bob. My feelings are all injured.”
The crowd snickered.
Rigan turned to Bob. “He isn’t asking for anything.”
Bob opened his mouth and clamped it shut.
Yep, you’ve just been outmaneuvered. Curran didn’t ask for any position in the Guild except for that of an ordinary merc.
Curran smiled.
“The man is giving us magic money with no strings attached,” Rigan said. “He hasn’t asked for any special power. He isn’t bargaining with us. He’s just offering us money. Do you have money, Bob? If you want to give us 150K, I’ll use yours instead. Hell, I’ll use anybody’s money to get gigs coming into the Guild again.”
“Let’s vote,” Sonia said, and raised her hand.
Rigan put his hand up. Ivera hesitated.
“Ivera, shit, piss, or get off the pot,” Rigan said.
Mercs, people of genteel disposition and refined manners.
Ivera raised her hand. Bob shot her an injured look.
“We need the money,” Ivera said quietly.
“Done.” Rigan rubbed his hands together. “We just passed the budget for the next two months.”
Bob spat on the floor and walked out. Ivera followed him. Wrong move. He’d just given Curran the run of the field, and Curran wouldn’t waste the opportunity.
Curran pondered Bob’s spit. “We need to clean this place up. Grab a shovel or a broom, and let’s go.”
“I’m not a janitor,” Paula, one of the mercs, called out.
Curran turned to her. “Funny, I’m not a janitor either. Although that depends on who you ask. Sometimes I end up cleaning up other people’s messes. But we’ve all been there. That’s what being a merc is, right?”
“You wouldn’t know,” Paula said.
Curran glanced at her. “I take it you come to us from a privileged background.”
Paula drew back. “That’s none of your business.”
“I don’t come from money,” Curran said. His voice rolled, filling the space. “Everything I have I made with my own two hands, and I have to work hard every day for it.”
“Even Daniels?” another merc asked.
That got some giggles. Curran cracked a smile. It was a bright, infectious smile. “Especially Daniels. I work to keep her daily. Otherwise she wouldn’t put up with me.”
More laughs.
“I thought I was going to be rich at one point, but when I left my people, instead of paying me, they gave me shares in this Guild.”