Havenât seen you in a while.â
âI have a security meeting not far from here in a little while,â he explained, then tapped his upper chest. âI figured now was a good time for Dr. Nikas to check out my port and test a new mod.â
Iâd only found out about ports and mods a few months ago, but I was seriously considering putting them on my Christmas list. Modsâmodifiersâwere specialized drugs that revved up or toned down parasite activity as needed. The port itself was implanted beneath the skin and provided an easy way to get a mod into the body. With a port, mods could either be delivered quickly, dumping into the system all at once, or the drug could be stored and set to release slowly. Mods could have some pretty awesome effects, such as more efficient brain usage, or better senses, or resistance to the kind of tranquilizers that worked on zombies. All sorts of useful stuff.
The drawback was that only one or two mods could be used at the same time, and some couldnât be mixed at all without big side effects. They were a lot like regular human drugs in that respect.
âEverything go okay with that?â I asked.
âSome kinks with the mod still, but itâs looking promising,â he said. âItâs designed to be a short term turbo charge of zombie abilities. Speed, strength, reflexes, senses, that sort of thing. Would be nice to have for emergencies.â He stretched and stifled a yawn. âBut right now Iâm simply waiting to see if Mr. Ivanov has anything for me before I take off.â
âDonât let the excitement of it all overwhelm you,â I said with a grin. âHowâs everything else going?â
âBusiness as usual in the zombie security world,â he said, which I figured was his way of saying he couldnât talk about anything. âNever a dull moment with the Tribe.â
The Tribe. Pietro Ivanovâs organization was actually a number of corporationsâa chain of funeral homes, real estate, construction, and even health care clinics that disguised the zombie research. And probably a ton I didnât have a clue about as well. Up until a couple of months ago Iâd privately referred to the whole deal as âThe Zombie Mafia,â yet after some time working steadily in the lab, I discovered that the people
in
the organizationâhumans and zombies alikeâreferred to it as âthe Tribe.â After some thoughtâand with the greater knowledge I had of Pietro, his people, and his goalsâthe reality of the whole common-ties-common-support thing settled in, and I grudgingly agreed that Tribe was a better nickname.
Most of the time, at least. There were reasons the whole Mafia tag had come up in the first place, and that undercurrent was still alive and kicking.
I peered at Brian. âDonât you ever get to go off and play on your own?â
Brianâs eyes widened in exaggerated wonder. âYou mean . . . not be on call?â Then he laughed. âI have down time, sure, but Iâm never truly off duty.â
âWell, that sucks,â I said, narrowing my eyes. âWhen do you get to be your own person?â
âIâm doing what I want to do,â he said, giving me a reassuring smile. âI have a couple of hobbies to fill in the gaps. I canât imagine a different lifestyle.â
I wondered about the gaps. As far as I knew, he didnât have a girlfriend. At one time heâd seemed seriously interested in my best friend, Naomiâformerly known as Heatherâbut that fell flat when she hooked up with Kyle Griffin, one of Brianâs top security guys.
Brian seemed content enough, though, and I knew it really wasnât any of my business. Not that Iâd ever let that whole ânone of my businessâ thing stop me from being a nosy buttinsky before.
âWell,â I said, âif youâre okay with your schedule, I