Dismissed, sacked, fired, booted out, surplus to requirements, let go, forcibly retired, given the elbow, given the push, out on my ear. I was all these things and more, as I was told with great glee by Member Jantrushan, an oily man with hair that was greased and slicked into a gleaming black dome, like a bantra nut. Member Jantrushan sat behind a perfectly ordered desk and in a nasal voice laid out the reasons for my summary expulsion, quivering with suppressed delight as he did so (you may have noticed, but he and I have a relationship of mutual disdain).
It wasn't so much my delivering an assassin directly to her target (having suspicions as to that incident was a point in my favour), nor was it spending the rest of the year on a semi-authorised jaunt to bring her to justice, only to turn up, not only empty-handed, but without any clue as to her employer. No. What worried my employers the most was my expense claims for said semi-authorised jaunt which were a little too rich for their pockets. All told, it was decided by someone who spent all day counting glass that I should be removed from my duties.
This was not, sadly for Member Jantrushan and myself, a permanent removal. League Agents take a long time to train and even when we spend a lot of money and get no results to show for it the League likes to keep us around, just in case it needs someone to clean its metaphorical latrines. I had managed to put myself on the 'eminently expendable' list.
I met Dhalooth outside the League House, which faces onto Llaza's impressive market square (actually a triangle) and gave him the good news. A reveler who had started early was noisily vomiting onto the League House steps; a political statement with which I heartily agreed. Dhalooth was in good spirits. After a year away, he had missed out on the Viceroy's Cup and several other important races and lost his title as Champion Matoo Jockey, but perversely this made him happy since he saw a challenge in getting it back.
'You always complain about working for the League,' my diminutive colleague told me cheerfully. Dhalooth isn't a salsham'ai for sympathy. 'So why worry about it?'
'Because they still have me on a leash,' I sighed. He was right, though. This was an opportunity to engage in less unsavoury work. Maybe I could join the crews who pick garbage and corpses from the waterways of Llaza.
'So, what are you going to do now?'
I produced a string of yen from up my sleeve. Much to Member Jantrushan's chagrin, I had been due a nice sum of money, both as a retaining fee and as a 'retirement' payoff. A remarkable slip-up by the tight-fisted League but one I made sure to exploit. I didn't say everything about my contract was bad. Since they had suspended me for costing them too much, it was an irony that I enjoyed greatly.
'First, I think I'll place an advert in The Green Dragon,' I mused. 'I've always wanted to try freelance work. Then,' I span the string of money around on my index finger, 'I'm off to the Catfish. Toothless Sashi and I have some unfinished business.'
(c) 2006 The Creative Conclave.
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