Chapter 2-2
580 Words
When I finished the speech, I was surrounded by my Alchemy classmates (they called dibs).
It wasn't that I was such a desirable companion, or that popular, you see.
It was that I was a trophy, to be contested by both departments in a game of tug of war.
Except I didn't have the tensile strength of a rope.
I was already showing signs of strain.
They were getting me drunk, you see.
Or trying to.
"No," I said, as one of my classmates, Scott Claiborne, was trying to pour me another pitcher. "No more. One is enough, thankyouverymuch. My husband wants me sober."
I probably make Jack sound like a horrible tyrant, but I've found it rather convenient lately to use him as a get out of jail card for all social engagements.
You see, it's not that I don't like you, it's that my husband doesn't like me to go out.
Jack approached us, and raised his eyebrow slightly, the edge of his mouth twitching in a smile. But he became serious, and stood by me, pretending to be the tyrannical husband he wasn't.
"I certainly do," he said, putting his arm over my shoulder, behind my back. "Because you become rather aggressive when you're drunk. She tried to beat me up, can you imagine?"
I didn't.
He was destroying the carefully crafted image I created of him in my classmates' minds. If I beat him up, how could he be that tyrannical.
"Does she?" Scott asked, nervously looking around.
He had heard rumors of my involvement in many fights.
In my defense, I have to say that was in the previous year, before I got back together with Jack.
I had more time to pursue my hobbies then.
"Oh, she certainly does," that was Joe, my friend, coming to my rescue. "Wouldn't risk it, if I were you."
Scott gave me a look and went away, probably thinking I was crazy.
"Thanks," I told Joe.
I've heard there's a bit of a competition between the two departments, over who gets me to go out with them tonight.
"Oh, wouldn't want to ruin the alchemist who made me so much money," Joe said.
When I looked at him with incomprehension, he explained.
"I bought some shares in your company, back when they were absolutely worthless. Now they're worth quite a bit and will be worth more when the factory is up and running."
Joe got his uncle to recommend me to a company, Ashford Pharmaceuticals, that was trying to reverse-engineer (or steal) some Yllamese compounds. Things weren't going well for the company, because, it turns out, you need talented alchemists even to steal, especially when you have to do it from scratch.
I managed to steal one d**g from the Yllamese (partly thanks to some secret documents Major Craen, my second Master, got for me). That made me a bit of money. Also, I got the title of Head of Department.
Which I was going to lose with the move.
"About that," I said. "Does your uncle talk to you about the company?"
His uncle was a member of the board, a major investor, and knew quite a bit about the internal workings of the company.
"My uncle mentioned that Mr. Bamber seems to be happy to be in the production phase," Joe said. "The pilot plant is working smoothly, now is the time to scale up."
I had been too busy with studying for the exams and writing up all the projects I had, to pay too much attention to the company.
It was good to know things were going well. A pity I couldn't take advantage of that.
Unless…
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