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“Please. Call me Ryker,” he beamed. There was a disarming quality to his features, a certain easygoing manner that struck me. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I was safe with him.

“Ryker,” I acquiesced, smiling thinly.

His grin widened at least tenfold. With a nod, he settled further into the armchair and folded his hands together in his lap. I couldn’t help but glance down at their roughened surface.

He didn’t have the hands of a man who sat behind a desk.

“I’m not sure what I can do for you. I’m the curator for the Natural History Museum of New Englandia. I know little about weaponry or their development,” I said. I wasn’t lying. I knew bits and pieces from old textbooks and sources, but nothing of which he wasn’t probably already aware.

“Your knowledge of twenty-first century history and your expertise in topography is world renowned. I’ve asked in many circles and your name is the only one that is consistently brought up with confidence, time and time again.”

I cocked my head, quite taken aback by his compliment. It wasn’t often a stranger said such things. For some reason, it felt more meaningful coming from him.

“That is good to hear,” I smiled gratefully.

“Let me explain why I’m here. My job is to acquire specialized technologies that have been lost to history.

My intel has uncovered the name of a research facility that disappeared from records during the years of the cyberwar and the subsequent collapse of the old world, but we have no idea where it could be and what exactly was being studied there.

All we have is a crumbling piece of paper that hints at certain supplies that could have been used to create weapons long ago. ”

“I see.”

“I hoped that you would help me to find it,” he continued. His tone was serious, his expression genuine, which was unexpected.

For some reason, I expected him to be cruel.

I’d never met a man from his part of the continent, but I’d heard stories about them.

They were different from us. Their society was modeled after something that pre-dated the collapse of human society.

They maintained close relationships between men and women, large families, and tradition.

In Pacifica, the use of artificial procreation was extremely uncommon, most women choosing to carry and birth their children instead.

It was foreign to me in a way that both fascinated and terrified me all the same.

I glanced at the crate, the sudden image of the pictures flashing through my mind. I started, and he looked at me with concern before I quickly smiled and tried to cover up my embarrassment the best that I could, though I could feel the heat of a blush creeping up my neck.

“What is the name of the facility?”

“Cressida Labs.”

I looked up at him. I didn’t let on right away, but I recognized the name or at the very least, I had seen it somewhere before. I’d have to do some searching to find out where, but I kept impeccable notes so it likely wouldn’t take long.

“Is there something you’d like to acquire from the site?” I asked pointedly. I wanted to know what I was getting into before I said too much.

He smiled knowingly. With a surge of admiration, I noticed that his eyes were the color of a simmering summer storm, a tumultuous slate blue that practically sparkled with his amusement.

There were flecks of silver and darker shades of sapphire that reminded me of waves crashing against a white sandy beach.

I glanced at the clock again, needing to look away and wanting to stare into those eyes all at once. They drew me in and that made me feel decidedly off balance.

“You’re everything they said you would be and even more than I expected,” he mused. As if he was remembering himself, he cleared his throat. “There are a few different things I’d like to acquire. One is a solar cell. The other is a fusion reactor.”

My eyes flicked to his. The solar cell was inconsequential, but I knew that the fusion reactor was not. I gazed at him, more wary than before.

“I need you. In return for your expertise, Pacifica is prepared to share the knowledge we obtain with New Englandia,” he explained further.

So, this was the point of this whole meeting.

Pacifica and New Englandia had been tenuous allies for the past few years, but with their growing population and power, there was an unstated rivalry that simmered beneath the surface. If it continued in the current manner all that tension could result in open war.

This could be very dangerous or very advantageous.

“I will need to consult with the council before I can give my answer,” I replied carefully.

“That is understandable,” he sighed. With a tight smile, he studied me for a moment. “I’m really hoping to work on this with you.”

He seemed sincere, at least. I stared at him, trying to find an ulterior motive, but I saw nothing.

The clock ticked, flashing over to five o’clock. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of thick paper. He slid it across the clear surface of my desk. I took it from him and studied it.

It was a business card.

I looked back at him, raising my eyebrow with confusion. I’d heard of these being used before, but I’d never actually seen one. Most people just linked comm devices.

To be honest, it felt exactly like something he would do.

Something an old-world man would do…

“My details are on the back. I will be available to you anytime. Please, don’t hesitate to give my comm a ring if you need anything at all.”

His offer was innocent, but it felt indecent all the same.

I smiled in return and shook his hand when he reached for mine, noting again his strong grip.

When his skin brushed against mine, I jumped, an electric current of sensation racing up and down my arm.

My cheeks heated and I couldn’t meet his gaze because I was afraid of what I might see.

Of what I might do if I looked at him right now…

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Gates,” I murmured politely, hoping to end this encounter before I utterly lost my head and did something I shouldn’t.

“Call me Ryker. Don’t make me remind you again,” he teased. With a wink, he turned away and walked out the door, leaving me with only one thought.

Or else what?