Chapter 48: Birds, Bots, and Blunders

"If you agree to be my lover, I'll raise your monthly salary to five thousand dollars!" Hans had intended to say ten thousand, but the words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them back.

Maria's heart skipped a beat at the offer. She was currently earning just three thousand a month—barely enough to cover her own expenses and her daughter's.

Most of it went to yoga classes and daycare. She had standards and refused to let her quality of life slip.

"Eight thousand," Maria replied through gritted teeth.

"Deal!" Hans burst out laughing.

Maria lowered her arms from her chest and turned her head, unable to meet Hans's bloodshot gaze.

"What are you standing there for? Get over here!" Hans slapped his thigh impatiently.

Maria moved slowly, stiffly, like a puppet with tangled strings, every step labored and reluctant.

"Come here, you!"

"Do you like it this way, ma'am?"

"Slow down, no one's fighting you for it…"

"Jack, get the car. We're heading to the secret base." By the time the city lit up, Hans finally stumbled out of the office building.

Women in their thirties are wolves, in their forties tigers, by fifty they could suck dirt off the ground, by sixty they could pull mice through walls, at seventy they'd devour you without spitting out bones, by eighty not even a legendary king could hold them back, and at a hundred they'd swallow Poseidon's trident and drag down the Buddha himself.

The ancients weren't joking!

"Hey, Ivan, you've got a delivery!"

Hans, followed by Jack, strode into the hidden factory. Ivan stood on the catwalk, adjusting a computer.

"I brought something for you." As Ivan descended the stairs, Hans clapped his hands.

"Oh ho" Jack carried over a box draped in cloth and set it on the workbench.

"Ta-da!" Hans whipped off the cloth and grinned.

Inside was a rare white parrot, caged but majestic. Hans had spent half a million dollars smuggling it in, just to earn some goodwill and loyalty.

Hans looked up, satisfied then suddenly froze.

"Wait a second, Jack. What is that?"

Jack followed his gaze.

"What the hell? Isn't that supposed to be the helmet?"

Hans didn't waste another second. He bolted up the catwalk, taking the stairs three at a time, and reached the top in moments.

Before him sat something that resembled a retro brick phone—it had replaced the prototype helmet. It jutted out of the mech's top like a cement block.

Hans grabbed the clunky object with both hands and yanked it free.

"Ivan… what the hell is this?"

He hurried back down and shoved the block into Jack's hands. Jack, ready as ever, caught it with both arms.

"Is that… a helmet?" Hans asked.

"Looks more like an old walkie-talkie," Jack replied, turning it over in disbelief.

"How's anyone supposed to get their head into this?" Hans demanded, glaring at Ivan, who was still busy watching the parrot.

"Jack, can your head fit in here?"

"Not a chance!" Jack shook his head, examining the thick, unwieldy block that was nearly as wide as his forearm.

"Try shoving it in anyway! Go on, cram it in!" Hans barked, his frustration ready to boil over.

"Ivan! This thing's not even close to being a helmet—it's designed for a baby head!"

Hans rubbed his temples, the pressure in his skull building until it felt like his brain might burst.

"I need to fit a person inside this! The whole suit is supposed to be wearable! Do you even understand that?" The last words came out in a roar.

Ivan, still unbothered, lay back on the workbench, silently whispering to the parrot.

"I'm talking to you—answer me! Ivan, how the hell is a full-grown adult supposed to fit into this hunk of junk?" Hans demanded, hands shoved into his pockets, his tone thunderous.

Ivan finally responded, casual as ever. "I think unmanned operation is better."

"What? Unmanned? Why the hell would that be better?" Hans looked like his brain was about to fry. He was trying to create Iron Man, not follow Elon Musk's playbook.

"Because humans make mistakes. Machines don't." Ivan pulled a toothpick from his mouth, sniffed it, and promptly gagged.

Disgusting.

"Ugh! Trust me, unmanned is the way to go." Even Ivan, slovenly as ever, couldn't ignore the stench. It was overwhelming.

Hans began pacing furiously across the room.

(End of Chapter)

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