Chapter 387: Lukas Finally Stopped Laughing at the Plan

Lukas let go of the handle before Rex pulled, dropping below the brake housing while the marked piece tore from its socket and hit the far railing with a crack.

The housing remained bolted to the support. Rex had stolen a removable part from the controls, not acquired ownership of the whole gantry through a successful handshake.

I drove a loose privacy screen between him and Lukas, then shoved it sideways so the solid panel blocked his view of the brake station. Rex smashed through its edge with his shoulder, but Lukas had already reached the fixed handwheel underneath.

He turned it far enough to check the brake pressure, then stopped with the suspended weight still secured. We hadn’t agreed to drop twelve tons on everybody nearby just because the villain had made a poor first impression.

[System: Look at the spider go, mate. Nearly got his arm repossessed and still read the instructions, which put him ahead of most blokes assembling garden furniture.]

I was saving my compliment for a moment when nobody could turn it into last words.

Rex came around the screen while I moved toward the opposite side of the loading lane. He followed far enough to lose a clear angle on Lukas, and my friend used the opening to reach the protected side of the support column.

The first minute of my portal cooldown had crawled past. I had never disliked a small number so personally.

We moved between the service drums and stacked timber blocks, keeping solid objects between us and Rex whenever possible. He could break or shift the smaller cover, but each obstacle forced a choice about where to put his body before reaching ours.

That was the only reason the fight lasted longer than his patience.

"You understood people," he said, stepping over a broken block. "You knew what they watched, what they wanted and what they pretended to be shocked by. Why waste that?"

"Because your employee benefits seemed to include becoming somebody else’s emergency footage."

He laughed and offered me a share of the operation. Real money, a proper audience and enough protection to stop ordinary officials bothering me about the mess I left behind.

My lie warning stayed quiet through most of it. He meant the offer, or enough of it to make the missing details dangerous.

That irritated me more than an obvious lie would have. I liked money. I liked an audience when it laughed at somebody I disliked, and I had left Harden outside my club window because I wanted him dead.

I wasn’t going to discover a spotless conscience in a maintenance yard because a worse businessman had offered me a job.

"I didn’t object to profit, Rex. I objected to you deciding the people beside me were disposable."

He glanced toward Lukas’s cover and said a useful partner should earn his place. Someone stronger, faster and more impressive would make my next series easier to sell.

I felt my temper settle instead of rise. The noise around us became easier to separate, and I heard the small rattle of Lukas checking the brake panel behind the support.

"He had already earned it, which was why you were still having this conversation with me instead of watching me leave."

Lukas didn’t thank me from behind his cover, which would have spoiled the moment and possibly attracted a bullet. He simply slid the dropped tool back toward my tail, trusting me to use it when the next opening came.

[System: There you go, mate. You could’ve bought yourself a worse friend with that offer, but at least this one already knew which snacks stopped you biting the upholstery.]

Rex’s smile thinned. For the first time, the offer had reached something he couldn’t price correctly.

I used the next pull’s warning flash to move before the marked bin crossed the lane. It struck the timber stack behind me and scattered blocks across the approach, giving Lukas another short stretch without a clear line between him and Rex.

My friend worked through the controls we had photographed. He found the main release cable, checked the fixed handwheel and pointed once toward the backup station behind the opposite support.

I understood the gesture. We had options if the front controls failed, but reaching them while Rex watched would be another problem entirely.

A crew member appeared at the end of the lane and shouted that the departure frame had received a remote start command. Rex didn’t look away from me when he answered, telling the man to follow the schedule.

The worker hesitated. He had probably seen the broadcast, or at least heard enough of the argument to understand that the schedule no longer promised a normal shift.

Rex turned his head and told him he could either work the brakes or be blamed when the load killed somebody.

My warning couldn’t tell me what the worker believed. His face did enough of that job when he ran toward the transport controls.

[System: Boss of the year, mate. Bet he calls them a family right before docking their funeral leave.]

We were going to need a better review than one star.

The large frame beside the gantry shook as its drive motors engaged. The cage on top moved with it, dragging a shadow across the loading lane while its support feet lifted from the ground.

Lukas came out from behind the brake station just far enough to see the departure lights. He pointed toward the removable drive relay shown on the public display, mounted in an open service box along the frame’s near side.

We had looked at it when it was harmless machinery. Now it was the part standing between a bad evening here and a worse one down the road.

Rex watched us follow the moving cage. He knew exactly what splitting our attention would cost, and he stepped into the lane where he could reach either of us.

The frame began rolling toward the settlement, with workers still clearing its path and the creature inside striking the cage whenever the wheels hit a seam.