- Roland, - the black man introduced himself. After a little hesitation, he added: - Mercenary.

  I raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Atlas inscription on his armor. Noticing my gaze, Roland grimaced.

  - Used to be a Crimson Lance fighter. Now freelancing.

  I nodded.

  - Pyotr Dyatlov.

  With those words, I handed him a business card that read, "Pyotr Dyatlov, technically a technical worker of the Vladoff and their trade representative, in fact a general mercenary. From skag hunting to designing and fixing coffee makers." After studying both sides of the card, Roland digitized it.

  - Did Angel send you? - He asked. I nodded.

  - Yup. Despite her dubiousness, I decided to check it out.

  - Thank you for your help, it came at a good time.

  - As far as I could see, you were doing just fine on your own, - I noted. - Except that the mech might have been a bit of a problem. By the way, thank you, I was having trouble with it.

  - Let's consider that we helped each other - answered the ex-Atlasovian. - And civilians.

  I chuckled.

  - Technically, everyone on Pandora is a civilian... But you mean there are civilians in this settlement?

  Roland nodded.

  - Hiding in basements. I was hired to protect them from the bandits, but their sudden raid was unexpected.

  That made me frown slightly. It's entirely possible that it's just paranoia, but Angel could very well have orchestrated the whole thing, prompting the bandits to attack. In principle, even so, it was more like an attempt to create a positive impression than a trap - even MechaDicker weren't that big a threat, really - but the civilians, judging by Roland's words, could have been victimized. Well, that's normal for an AI, I suppose.

  I was in no hurry to share my thoughts with Roland, however. Moreover, there is a very high probability that this electronic "lady" is eavesdropping.

  Women are like that.

  - So, it turns out that I helped you to do your job? - I asked. He looked at the inscription on my armor and smiled a little.

  - You're right, you're entitled to a share of the payment.

  - Let's look at the trophies first, - I suggested. - If there's anything I need, I'll take it.

  Roland nodded. He studied me thoughtfully.

  - Vladoff, huh? Engineering units? - I nodded. - Were you by any chance involved in the campaign on Roneo 3?

  - Roneo 3? - I interjected. Something in my memory - my character - popped up. - "War of the Coffee Makers?"

  Details of that story kept popping up in my head, and I felt myself cringe. Roland nodded understandingly; he cringed, too.

  - I see you did. We got beat up pretty bad.

  - Us, too, - I grumbled. - Fucking Maliwans. Half my squad got boiled at the Coffee Palace. If it hadn't been for your men, fucking coffee makers might have gotten all of us.

  - If it weren't for yours, we wouldn't have been able to retreat, Roland remarked. - I've never seen so many turrets in one place before. And all different ones at that.

  - If you want to live, you will do anything, and our turrets are dumb crazy, - I said, and man of Atlas nodded.

  As it turned out, Roland did not have any specific plans for the future, and the idea that Angel had suggested to him to take up the search for the Vault was not that he was "interested" - just that in his opinion it was an option no worse than any other. It made sense from his point of view.

  - I wasn't going to do it myself, - I informed him. The trophies from the bandits turned out to be predictably lousy - a set of weapons from S & S and a couple of guns from Dahl and Tedior each, junk that my ECHO marked white and signed "Trash". A couple more shields and a grenade modifier, but still the same garbage level, so the most valuable thing was ammo. - But some potential tracks have popped up lately, including this Angel, so why not give it a try if it won't be too much of a distraction from making money. The main problem is that I don't think highly enough of myself to go into this alone, and then Angel came up again with her suggestion of finding others who might be interested. I actually wanted to talk to a couple people I know about it first, but you were the first to go. Obviously, you don't have much reason to trust me, but consider the idea.

  Roland nodded.

  - Well, you do deserve a modicum of trust, - he said.

  I chuckled.

  - I'll take that as a compliment, but I'd advise you to be very careful about trust, especially on Pandora.

  All in all, this incident was a positive rather than a negative. Replenishment of ammunition, some money, some experience... And, probably most importantly, meeting yet another protagonist of this story, with a positive impression made.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I wonder how many more of them there are left...?

  Since Roland had his own ECHO, and gave out a contact code, I didn't rush to talk about Tannis. First I will check what I can get from her, and whether it is of any value, or she is just, as English speakers say, "red herring", and in Russian - "razvod". And then I can get in touch and let him know if I have leads.

  - I don't buy anything on Thursdays, - said the woman whose image appeared in the augmented reality and then disconnected the connection. She did not respond to a new attempt at a video call; the ECHO reported "The called is not one of the available women". I had to send her a text message entitled "Your Lost Records."

  Two things are probably worth noting. First, what I was able to see matched the picture that emerged in my mind of listening to Patricia Tannis' audio recordings. Second, it was Saturday.

  "Incoming video call," the ECHO announced.

  "Connect."

  - Why didn't you tell me it was about my tapes in the first place? - Tannis asked indignantly.

  - It's Saturday, - I informed her. - On Saturdays I don't tell you right away that it's not about Thursday sales.

  The woman stared at me, tilting her head to the side. I have no idea what was going through her head and I don't want to know, but eventually she nodded.

  - In three hours and fourteen minutes, it would be Sunday.

  I glanced at the time displayed by the ECHO and nodded in agreement.

  - Do you suggest we continue then?

  - No, that was just to make small talk, - the woman nodded, then jerked her chin nervously. - So you have my notes? Are they intact, are they all right?

  - For now, yes, but their continued safety depends on your cooperation, - I replied. - Maybe I won't even have to cut them into pieces and send them to you.

  - You are a scary man... - said Tannis with respect in her voice. - What do you want?

  - A helicopter, a million bucks, siren powers, and a ticket off Pandora would be nice... - I said thoughtfully. - But specifically from you... What can you offer?

  - Power, knowledge, and a job - immediately answered the woman.

  - The third item should be immortality - I noted. Tannis frowned.

  - Would it?

  I nodded.

  - The traditional set of services when selling a soul.

  - I'm not interested in that, - Tannis said. - What do I need your soul for? I'd like to put my owned ones somewhere...

  We stared at each other.

  - ...It was a joke, - said the woman in red. I looked at her suspiciously for a second, then nodded.

  - I suppose so. Can you tell me more about what you have to offer besides money?

  - Personally useful Eridian technology and information about the Vault. Interested?

  I nodded.

  - I'm sure you've read my notes, and I can assume you have enough brains to realize that I'm the leading Eridian expert on this planet, - Tannis said in a businesslike tone. - Unfortunately, after those dullards from Dahl left the planet, I'm having trouble continuing my research - just when I was close to a breakthrough! And that's where you come in. I could use a pair of legs to run around on, and a pair of hands with a gun to do a couple things, fighting off critters along the way. I get to continue my work, you get the information you want.

  Sounds like a lot of fiddling... Also a series of story quests. I sighed.

  - I'll see what I can do, but let's start with your notes, which I managed to gather despite your efforts. What are you willing to give for them?

  - I can offer to pay with body, - Tannis informed me. - Yours. I have the technology to... safely enough... use the Eridian relics. The biologist assured me that it worked like clockwork before he died.

  - A questionable, untried adaptation of alien technology? - Raising an eyebrow, I inquired. - How could I refuse?

  - I thought so - Tannis nodded.

  "Level up!"

  In the end, after some thought, I still used the archive sent to me, which contained three files: a schematic for digitally constructing a device that looked like a large jewel frame or a small photo frame, a program for analyzing the properties of Eridian relics, and a digitized relic that increased physical strength. More specifically, ECHO labeled it "Increase in muscle efficiency/arm attacks (minor)."

  I'm going to hope ECHO or auto-medikit will pick up on this if something's wrong. But I'll level up Field Medic just in case.

  All right. I guess I can officially be considered a Vault Hunter from now on after all.