Authorization One, Roarke Industries. This level entitles you to select any items under this manufacturer’s brand at no cost.
“Wow. We can clean house.” Peabody turned her dazzled eyes to the shelves crammed with delights. “Can I get one of these?”
“Shut up, Peabody. Look, I’m paying for this,” she told the machine. “So just bypass Authorization One and debit my account.”
Unable to comply. Would you care to make another selection?
“Damn it.” She shoved the game at Peabody. “He’s not getting away with this.”
Peabody had the wit to run the box through security release, then jogged to catch up with Eve. “Listen, since we’re here anyway, couldn’t I just have one—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.” Eve gave the glide one quick, bad-tempered kick, then got on to ride to medical level.
“Most women would be happy if their husbands gave them blank shopping credit.”
“I’m not most women.”
Peabody rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me.”
Peabody might have sulked over the loss of her own imaginary game collection, but Trueheart’s pleasure in the gift outweighed greed.
“This is great. It just came out.”
He turned the box over in his good hand. His other arm was cased in a plasti-cast to knit the bone that had snapped in his fall.
There was a collar of the same material around his neck, an IV drip in his wrist, and a brutal bruise that crept over his shoulder and showed purple and black against the sagging neck of his hospital shift. His left leg was slightly elevated, and Eve remembered how his blood had pumped out of the gash there and onto her hands.
Machines hummed around him.
All Eve could think was if she were in his place, she wouldn’t be so damn cheerful.
She left the small talk and conversation to Peabody. She never knew what to say to hospital patients.
“I don’t remember much after I took the hit.” He shifted his eyes to Eve. “Commander Whitney said we got him.”
“Yeah.” This, at least, was her element. “You got him. He’s down on the next patient level. We’ll be questioning him after we leave here. You did the job, Trueheart. He might have gotten by us if you hadn’t reacted fast and taken him down.”
“The comm
ander said you put me up for a commendation.”
“Like I said, you did the job.”
“I didn’t do much.” He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “I would have taken him down clean if that trigger-happy asshole transit jerk hadn’t blasted off.”
“That’s the spirit. The trigger-happy asshole and his moronic superior are going to get kicked around plenty.”
“Wouldn’t have happened if they’d listened to you. You had it under control.”
“If I’d had it under control, you wouldn’t be here. You took a mean hit and a bad fall. If you’re feeling shaky over it, you should see the department counselor.”
“I’m feeling okay about it. I want to get back in uniform, back on the job. I was hoping, when you close the case, you’d let me know the details.”
“Sure.”