The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League Read Online Free PDF

hopefully not the last.
    He glanced down at the bitter drink and swirled it around the glass. Doctor Enstein had been his contact for the Melbourne and Ballarat hospitals for two weeks - he seemed nice, and he also kept the meetings brief, and always brought payment.
    “The Fixer,” Doctor Enstein said, grinning.
    “You’re late Doc,” the man replied with a slight smile. “So I take it you have my payment for the last four?”
    “Easy, mate!” Enstein said raising his hands, “Let me get a beer first. I just knocked off, and it’s been hectic. Give us a sec.” Enstein left the booth and pushed his way to the bar.
    The man in the suit didn’t keep a bank account, so he used his money, as he needed it. He didn’t mind relying on money to live, he just hated bank accounts and the strings society insists that a person needs. This man, Fixer, preferred to be invisible.
    Unknown.
    He cradled his head between his hands and rubbed at his temples. The headache began to throb again. It would build up from nothing and then fade away like the tide.
    He rubbed at his temples. “What is wrong with me?”
    “Judging from looking at you, mate, I’d say a headache.” The doctor’s voice jolted him.
    He had returned with his drink quickly.
    The man mumbled something and took anther sip of his cheap scotch.
    “So, the last four are done,” the man repeated to the doctor.
    The doctor smiled. “You are all business aren’t you, mate?”
    “Well, I have rent to pay, three hungry kids to feed…” The man lied with a half smile.
    Enstein leaned back into the vinyl. “Good on ya. You are a lone wolf for sure. Your kind don’t get tied down.”
    “ My kind? What is that supposed to mean, Doc?” The man squinted.
    Has he met people like me?
    “I don’t ask questions.” The doctor shrugged. “That’s what the deal was, so I will never know will I?”
    Enstein took a mouthful of his beer, and looked around at all the people.
    “Are you sure there isn’t another name I can call you? This is Ballarat, no one uses code names, it just feels…excessive.” The doctor made a sour face, then smiled. Teasing.
    “Fixer is fine with me, or Sir, Mister or ‘Hey you’ are all acceptable. I try to keep a low profile. I prefer to be able to disappear when I want to.” The man took a deep breath, trying to ignore the headache.
    “Okay then. Let’s get down to business before we find we have too much in common and become best friends.” Enstein smiled.
    He then slid a white business sized envelope across the table toward the man in the suit.
    “Four thousand,” the doctor said gesturing to the envelope. “That’s one thousand each. I don’t know what you do for these people, but they are awake and getting stronger each day. There are families out there that would give you more than a thousand for what you’ve done.”
    “This is all I need.” The man put it into his jacket pocket. “Who’s paying?”
    The doctor shrugged and made a face. “Beats me. I’m just doing what I’m told. The head of my department told me to give it to you.” The doctor pushed a folded piece of paper across the table. “And this.”
    Another list of patients.
    “You don’t know where this money is coming from?” The man asked.
    The doctor shook his head.
    “What’s this? More patients?” The man examined the piece of paper.
    Enstein nodded, took another sip of his beer while he glanced about at the people swarming the bar and the stairs that led to the dance floor.
    “I’ve got it!” He shook his head. “You, my friend, are a genius! You ask to meet in a club after ten at night, on a Friday, right? Clever.”
    The man in the suit gave a curt nod and drained his glass.
    They had agreed to meet at this location because everyone in here at this time, on this day, was most likely drinking or drunk. So with alcohol clouded memories, there isn’t anyone that could say for certain that they had witnessed the meeting or not.
    The