"Don't get the wrong impression, professor," you reply. "But I'd rather play it close. Like you say, this is hazardous duty." Hyde-White nods. "But I understand that Vulcan needs a quick pay-off. So who's in that first class, the one's who'll be out by themselves?"
Hyde-White seems to approve of your choice, for he smiles widely as he hands over a 10x11 glossy photo. It shows a formidable-looking, middle-aged woman. "That is Hilda Gunnarson," he says. "Rather a Valkyrie, what? She is a skilled and powerful fighter. A warrior, even. An Amazon."
You look more closely, but she seems to have both breasts.
"She's been known to break men's necks with her bare hands," Hyde-White continues. "But her weapon of choice is a broad sword. Possibly enchanted. We would very much like to have a look at it."
"So I'd bring it to you."
"Along with the woman herself. Project Nerio would set up a lab, for the study of the woman, while Vulcan would have an annex for the study of any weapons that might be useful to copy."
"Uh huh. Who else is on this list?"
"You're not instantly smitten?" Hyde-White smiles.
"This is marriage, not a speed date," you retort.
He laughs dryly. "I doubt you'll be much taken with this one," he says as he hands you another photo. "Richard Bredon. A private investigator. A very safe choice, as he appears to be extremely anti-social. Something of a lone wolf."
Your scalp prickles at the face, and you wonder if this Bredon fellow steers clear of others or if the others steer clear of him. It's clearly a driver's license photo that's been blown up, and the man's puffy, sickly face is not improved by the heightened scrutiny. Lank hair mixing white and ash-grey falls to his jaw, and he glares at the camera with mica-like eyes.
Hyde-White continues: "He has been the hardest of them for us to track, and we've lost sight of him a dozen times over the years. We suspect he knows he is being shadowed. We've fallen into the expedient of hiring him ourselves; he's a private detective, as I say. If you want safety, this is probably the safest guise of all for you."
"Christ, I know I'm not supposed to judge on appearances, but have you got anyone better looking?" you grumble.
He bites on a smile. "Well, there is this one." He hands you a third photo.
You swallow hard, and something twitches in your crotch. Chinese chipmunk. That's the only description that does justice to the woman in the photo. It was taken at a distance, and she is glaring off to the side, but she has an adorable face—tight skin over pie-pan cheekbones—under a tomboyish cut of dark hair. She is very short, but something about the way she is holding herself suggests a bundle of energy.
Wait, you gasp to yourself. That's not—
"Miko Toyotomi," says the professor, so no, it's not who you momentarily thought it was. "Another fighter, another warrior woman. Japanese. She travels a great deal. Instead of establishing a single base for you to visit, we would set up temporary quarters near wherever you had to be while playing her part."
Hyde-White falls silent. You shuffle through the three photographs. On their backs you find more detailed dossiers on each. You make a great show of studying each, though you are of course greatly inclined to choose—
You pause. Why did Hyde-White wait to show you the Japanese girl last? Is it because he knew you'd pick her? Or because he preferred that you take one of the others? He had opened with a caution about picking based on merit and not on looks.
You shuffle through the photos again. All three of them have very hard faces. Gunnarson: mannish and square. Bredon: bloated and dissipated. Toyotomi: She just looks pissed off at something or someone.
There's a good chance that their inner lives are rocky and unpleasant places. You shouldn't let their contrasting beauties beguile you. You study their dossiers more closely, and ponder what you and Fane need from this assignment.
And so after a tortuous interval, you decide on ...