Evenfall (24 page)

Even so, Sin was more talkative now than he used to be, which led Boyd to believe that the best way to make their partnership function on any level was to try to keep talking to the other man. Keep showing Sin that he didn't care about anything except doing his job and treating Sin according to how Sin presented himself to him. If Sin ended up being an unrepentant sociopath then it may affect Boyd's view of the other man but for the moment he saw nothing to be afraid of. And certainly nothing to make him treat Sin differently than anyone else.

"Are you going out?"

Sin tugged on a pair of jeans without putting on any underwear. "Yes."

"Where are you going?"

Sin looked at him over his shoulder. He was wearing the same contemplative, narrow-eyed stare he always had when Boyd questioned him about anything. It almost seemed like he was debating whether it was a genuine question of curiosity or if Boyd was trying to get at something more.

"I don't have a definite plan. I like to wander."

Boyd nodded. "Have you visited any of the tourist attractions?"

"Not intentionally," was the slightly muffled answer as Sin pulled on a dark green t-shirt that appeared washed out and threadbare.

"Do you dislike tourist attractions or is there another reason you say that?"

Sin ran a hand through his hair after adjusting his shirt, and gave Boyd another one of his long considering stares. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking or why such inane questions gave him pause sometimes.

"What's with all of this small talk lately?" he asked finally.

"I get bored in the room," Boyd replied with a faint shrug. It wasn't even untrue, although he did have the ulterior motive of feeling out Sin. "There hasn't been much of interest on the surveillance and since I can't leave, it makes me curious about the city and what you've been doing. So far I only briefly had the opportunity to visit the Sagrada Familia."

"No one's stopping you from going out. The equipment records."

"If I don't watch it now I'll just have to watch it later. At least in real-time, if something happens I know if we need to do additional surveillance or tailing."

"Suffer then," Sin replied blandly. "Although I don't know why you're taking it this seriously. This mission is a joke. I'm not entirely sure why they keep babying you like this."

"I couldn't say," Boyd said unconcernedly. It wasn't the first time Sin had said that about their missions. His gaze tracked along some movement on the right monitor and a faint frown pulled at the edges of his lips. "But if such a non-intensive mission were to fail I can't imagine it would go over well. So regardless of the severity of the mission, I'm going to take it seriously."

There was a light scoff as Sin put on his battered boots. "Doesn't it bother you that this is all getting you nowhere?"

The comment caused Boyd to look up at Sin. "In what way?"

Sin's eyes flicked up from tying his boots, his lips pursed slightly as he looked at his would-be partner. After a moment he finished and stood, never taking his eyes off Boyd. "How do you think this is going to end?"

"My partnership with you? Or my time at the Agency?"

That earned him a humorless smirk. "Isn't it the same thing? You're here because of me."

Boyd had to acknowledge that with a nod. He leaned back and watched Sin impassively. "Then, to answer your question it will likely end when I die on a mission. Chances are that will happen sooner rather than later."

The smirk had already disappeared and the corners of Sin's mouth turned down slightly as his vivid green eyes narrowed. A flash of something crossed his face but it was difficult to discern if it was irritation, disgust, or something entirely different.

Whatever the case was, Sin turned away from him. He started for the door and paused with his hand on the doorknob. His fingers grazed it but before it turned, he looked back at Boyd again.

"Don't you have anything better to fucking do other than babysit and eventually get killed by some psycho?"

"No," Boyd said honestly. "I don't."

Sin gave him a long considering look before shaking his head and walking out the door.

Chapter 8

The Agency gained a new light to Boyd as he walked across compound with Ryan, heading toward the R&D agent's apartment. As they started talking about his apartment Ryan complained that he wished he could paint the walls yellow instead of leaving them white. From there, the conversation shifted until Boyd learned about the sheer amount of Agency employees who lived on compound.

It wasn't mandatory to live there but for all intents and purposes, Ryan seemed to imply that the Agency preferred it, especially for field agents. Likely to avoid the inevitable questions that came when an agent lived around civilians.

They walked at a leisurely pace. What began as an explanation of where Ryan lived turned into an impromptu tour and history lesson of the compound. It was just like Ryan to go off on a complete tangent but he also had a wealth of useful information that no one else had bothered to share with Boyd.

There were four main residential buildings grouped on the opposite side of the compound from the Tower. They were fifteen floors each and contained lounge areas and mostly single bedroom apartments due to the unlikelihood of an agent ever having a family and continuing in their position. According to Ryan, about 90% of the roughly 250 field agents, analysts and R&D agents lived there except for officers and special cases who had separate living assignments in smaller buildings. Ryan also explained that Sin was one of those special cases. He lived in a small building that was usually used for people who needed extra surveillance such as new agents who hadn't yet been able to adapt to the lifestyle, agents with pending behavior or psychiatric issues, and sometimes even informants who needed asylum from the outside world after helping the Agency.

"A lot of the higher ranking peeps live off compound, though," Ryan continued as he shut the door behind them. "I don't think I know one rank 9 fieldie who lives in the dorms but I could be wrong. Most of them kind of grow out of the whole thing and the fact that they make a megaton more money than anyone else helps."

He tossed his backpack down on what appeared to be a royal blue and silver lounge sofa. It stood out vibrantly in a room that was full of mismatched furniture and eclectic knickknacks. There were three other chairs in different shades of blue, a grey and black shag rug and enough anime posters to fill a convention stand. His bookcase was filled to the brim and appeared organized completely alphabetically by comic book artist or mangaka. There were also a variety of graphic and science fiction novels mixed with huge tomes about mathematics, programming and computer languages.

"Sorry about the mess," Ryan added as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over one of the blue chairs. He absently wandered over to his desk and leaned over to turn on his PC. Like the bookcase, the desk was piled high with stacks of books, folders and CD cases. There was a small organizer full of flash drives and microchips.

"It's fine," Boyd said, glancing around.

The skinny R&D agent sat at his desk and typed in something, likely a log in code. "So, what made you want to find out more about him, anyway? I got the feeling you weren't really gonna take me up on that offer."

Boyd shrugged and found an empty chair near the desk. He sat down, his eyes straying across a poster along the wall nearby with some sort of mechanical robot that appeared to have wings. He briefly considered the logic of putting wings on a robot; wouldn't they just get in the way?

He dismissed the thought as he turned his attention back to Ryan while he considered the question. Truthfully, his interest in Sin had taken him a little by surprise as well. He'd planned to continue to work with Sin slowly, determining what worked with the older man and what didn't, while staying emotionally uninvolved throughout. But Sin kept doing or saying things that caught Boyd's attention.

One moment in particular had plagued Boyd as the week had dragged on. He'd expected Sin to be smug about Boyd's acknowledgment of his own impending death when that had come up but instead Sin had looked annoyed. Why was that? It was such a strange response, especially from a man who otherwise seemed to delight in pointing out the flaws in others' plans and how futile everything was. He didn't seem to particularly care for Boyd as a partner either, so shouldn't he be pleased about that topic of conversation?

It was yet another oddity of Sin's. And somewhere along the line, during days of studying the other man both discreetly and openly between hours of dull, monotonous surveillance, Boyd's interest had been piqued. What was Sin thinking? What was the reason for those strange reactions? Why was he so distrustful of even completely innocuous questions?

What was the truth and what was misleading?

"I find myself growing curious about him," was all Boyd said aloud.

"Shittles," Ryan suddenly exclaimed, staring at his computer screen with a frown. "I forgot to send in my supply card! Anyway, why? What changed?" The last part was asked somewhat cautiously.

"Nothing dramatic." Boyd settled back in the chair and looked at Ryan thoughtfully. "He continues to be contradictory. I've been increasingly wondering which parts are true and which aren't."
He paused and then added, "One comment in particular that he made caught my attention. When I asked about the rumors he said not all were untrue. It made me wonder what he meant."

"Ah."

Ryan reclined back in his chair and stared at Boyd through his thick black glasses. His mouth twisted to the side as he rocked himself back and forth thoughtfully. "If I tell you stuff, you're not gonna somehow use it against him, are you?"

Boyd frowned and lowered his eyebrows, one of the few true expressions he'd shown the R&D agent. "No. Why would I? It would serve me no purpose. I have no ill will against him; I'm just trying to understand him."

"Good." Ryan brightened and grinned at Boyd. "No offense, but I haven't met one person besides Zachary that actually wouldn't use something against him. I didn't mean like, you're an ass or something. I was just checking, especially 'cause he still hasn't been the best partner."

"Whether or not he's a good partner doesn't matter as long as it doesn't negatively affect me," Boyd said unconcernedly. He shifted, feeling something dig into his back. He sat forward, looking behind himself as he continued absently, "I don't really care enough about anything to be malicious about it."

"Right-o."

Ryan stopped rocking back and forth and steadied himself, leaning forward to peer at Boyd intently as Boyd pulled a small figurine out from behind the small of his back. He paused, his fingers curled around the figure and gaze catching on Ryan's face. At first he thought Ryan was eyeing him so seriously because he'd leaned against a well-loved toy. He realized after a moment that it wasn't that at all.

Ryan's indigo eyes narrowed and his youthful face looked almost comical as he scrunched it together to look serious. "So-- do you want to know a lot or a little? I may make lunch while we talk if it's a lot. I need to take my meds like, yesterday, and I'll puke if I don't eat first."
Once Boyd realized he wasn't in trouble for the little winged robot in his hand, he relaxed minutely. It was probably silly to have been worried about offending Ryan over that but Ryan was one of the few people who took the time to give him any information and who talked to him like normal. He didn't relish the idea of losing that.

"I'd prefer more information rather than less," he said, setting the figurine on a pile of books nearby. Belatedly, the rest of what Ryan said filtered through his mind. Medication? He wondered why Ryan needed it. "So if you want to start making food that's fine."

"Coolio."

Ryan got up from his chair and moved across the room to the attached kitchen that was separated from the main room only by a counter area. "Do you want anything? I forgot to send in my supply card so all I have is like, sandwich fixings and junk."

Boyd tilted his body more toward the kitchen and considered asking if he had tea, but that wasn't a staple in everyone's kitchen. And since he wasn't particularly hungry or thirsty he didn't want to take more supplies from Ryan. "I'm fine, thank you."

The room filled with crinkling sounds as Ryan removed a large bag of pretzels from a cabinet. He put it on the counter and opened his refrigerator, digging around until he leaned back with his arms full of pre-sliced cold cuts. "Mike's has the best cold cuts, FYI. Anyway, what did you wanna know first?"

"Which stories are true?"

Ryan hesitated for only a moment before putting two slices of bread on a plate. "Well, what all have you heard or been told?"

"I know about his partners and that he's injured people on compound in the past. They told me during training that he was accused of some crimes in the city but the Agency demanded redaction. I don't know whether he actually committed any crimes or what specifically he was alleged to have done."
Boyd paused, going over the different rumors he'd heard, and ultimately shook his head. "I suppose in general a clarification of what he's actually done would be of use. So many stories sound like exaggerations, but he's strong and fast enough that they could potentially be true. So it's difficult to know what sort of person I'm working with."

"Well when you put it like that, it makes total sense. They probably should have cleared that all up for you anyway but I guess they didn't wanna bias you one way or the other by going into detail about shit that they consider ancient history. But I dunno, that's kind of tardo if you ask me. 'Cause now you don't even know what to believe at all."

Ryan slathered his bread with mustard and slapped a few pieces of lunch meat on it. He glanced at the clock and opened an overhead cabinet which from what Boyd could see was filled with different prescription bottles. Ryan took out two and set them on the counter next to his plate.

"So... let's see. Well, I guess-- I mean people were freaked out by him from the start just because when he came here he was only thirteen or fourteen and already like, better than everyone else at his job. He was always a little quick to react, always a little out of control when he lost his temper bad, so people always kind of treated him like he was a mutant. The first big thing that set everyone off though was the thing that happened down in Vickland like ten years ago or something."

"Vickland?" Boyd echoed. That neighborhood housed some of his worst and best memories. "What happened?"

There was a pause as Ryan chewed a relatively large bite of sandwich. Mustard smeared the corners of his mouth and he hastily wiped at it, glancing at Boyd with a
self-deprecating
roll of his eyes. "Uh--"

He swallowed and pulled himself up onto one of the bar stools. "He was coming back from a mission-- this was before the whole partner thing. Actually... it was the catalyst of the whole partner thing, I think. And he was walking through Vickland back when it was still a complete shit hole, you know? Back when the scavengers would be out in droves and stuff?"

Boyd nodded, remembering well the way Vickland had been.

Ryan jumped off the stool and went to the refrigerator again, removing a container of milk. He couldn't seem to sit still at all. "He came across this girl being raped in an alleyway and he killed her attackers. But the girl got so frightened of him that she started screaming and drew the attention of the scavengers nearby who then thought it was Hsin who started it all. They attacked him and he went nutso and took a lot of them out. Then the cops came but he was still in like, automatic defense kill mode and didn't stop. It was pretty bad."

Boyd's eyebrows rose slightly. They'd told him that Sin could get distracted by civilians and it was partially for that reason that a partner was necessary. But Boyd hadn't taken from that, or even Sin's attitude with the way he dealt with his partners, that he would care about a stranger.

"Why would he care what happened to her? Did he know her?"

"No, not at all."

Boyd gave Ryan a slightly strange look. "Then why did he interfere?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows, talking around a mouthful of food. "It was a young girl getting gang raped... any decent person would have interfered."

Boyd considered that, studying Ryan for a moment. He still didn't feel like he understood what the distinctions were for Sin; what made him stop one incident but let others pass him by without care.

He wondered why a man who'd seemed irritated and defensive over Boyd inquiring about his health and who kept reminding Boyd that he was likely to die soon, which probably would be in part because Sin didn't help like he was supposed to, would then turn around and stop someone from being hurt when it had nothing to do with him.

It wasn't that Boyd thought the girl should have been hurt or that the men had been right, but objectively speaking, she would have lived. What was the distinction for Sin between actively stopping something a person would live through but may hurt them, and passively letting others die or, in some cases, killing them himself? Death was more permanent than pain, which Boyd knew well enough a person could live through whether or not they wanted to. So what was the catalyst for Sin's actions? Why bother protecting a stranger?

"I'm trying to understand why someone who seems content with letting people die around him, and who doesn't seem to like anyone, would bother to stop someone from being hurt," Boyd explained, shaking his head slightly. "You say that any decent person would interfere but I don't know him well enough to understand his motivations or what sort of person he is. So far it seems that his judgment of whether a person deserves death is based on whether they committed any wrongs against him or he feels it's karmic retribution. That implies he could be arrogant and feels that he can judge a person's worth for life or death based on his criteria."