Page 133 of Crocodile Tears

“Don’t want to bring these?” Josiah fingered one of the jackets. These were decidedlynothis own style of dressing, but Alexander had been wearing one when he was arrested.

“No.”

“Why not? These are the big-ticket items, whereas you seem to have packed the cheapest clothes.”

“I’ll bring them if you wish, sir.” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Are these the clothes you’d like me to wear?”

“God no.” Josiah snorted. “Can’t stand this neo-glam crap that’s all the rage at the moment.”

“Me neither.” Alexander grinned.

“Then why…?” Josiah waved a hand at the wardrobe.

“That’s Christopher’s style,” Alexander said softly. “I’m no longer Christopher now that Elliot is dead, so…” He shrugged. “I’d prefer to leave him behind, if that’s okay with you?”

Josiah nodded, thoughtfully, understanding. He glanced at the plainer clothes in the holdall.

“These are more you?”

“Not entirely – but I told Elliot I needed some items for everyday tasks, exercising and so on. He liked me dressed as Christopher at all times, but he allowed me a few simpler clothes for practicality.” Alexander finished packing his bag and zipped it up.

“You done?”

“Almost – one last thing.” Leaning over, Alexander removed theHalo of Fireprint from above the bed and shoved it into the side pocket of his holdall.

“Is that a favourite of yours?” Josiah asked. It was an interesting choice, being one of the few photos in the room that wasn’t of Alexander.

“No, I hate it.”

“Then why bring it?”

“It’s good for me,” the IS said mysteriously. He took one last look around the room, and then gave a little nod. “Now I’m done.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

MARCH 2088

Alex

Work on the prototype was going much more slowly than Alex had anticipated, and he seemed to hit a new snag every day. Maybe it was his lack of experience in handling an entire project, including the budget and managing a team, but everything felt like an uphill struggle.

George Tyler was a busy man, forever flying off to some faraway destination in his private plane. But he still checked in to the workshop every few days and insisted on taking Alex out for a meal. Alex looked forward to the time they spent together. At least Tyler was a friendly face – nobody else at Aquacruise had made him feel welcome.

“So, how’s it going?” Tyler asked, six weeks before the project deadline. “Am I going to have the prototype for a fantastic new range of Aquacruise ducks, or has this whole thing turned into more of a lame duck?” He took a swig of his beer and grinned.

“It’ll work.” Alex sounded confident, but the prototype wasn’t even close, and he had no idea why. It should work, but it didn’t, and he was running out of time.

He’d already spent all of Tyler’s investment, as well as every single penny of his own money, and was now getting by on ingenuity and hard work alone. He didn’t dare tell Tyler that, though – friendly though he was, he knew that Tyler would pull the plug instantly.

“On time and on budget?” Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Iamimpressed.”

“I was going to ask you about that… the budget, I mean,” Alex said, as nonchalantly as he could manage. “I can do it – don’t get me wrong – but if there was more money, I think I could do it better.”

Tyler’s grin disappeared. “We agreed upon a price.”

“I know… but I might have under-estimated the cost of a few things, and the testing process has been more expensive than I anticipated.”

Secretly, he blamed Tyler’s workers for that. The crew assigned to help him were unfriendly and unhelpful, always choosing the costliest, slowest route, and utterly unenthusiastic about the project. In fact, he had to steel himself to go into work every morning.

---