Page 2 of Rust and Stardust

“I know what you meant, and my answer is no,” he snapped, cutting Logan off. “My son was right. Research and development area waste of time. A bunch of useless scientists in a lab are never going to create something regular people actually want to eat. Why would we pay them when the good folks of Sagebrush, Texas, have already figured it out?”

“But the board?—”

“I don’t give a fuck what the board thinks,” the boss snapped.

Both Logan and I stood there, too stunned to speak. This didn’t sound like the man who sent us Christmas cards and bonuses with thank-you notes each year. Then again, maybe we’d just been kidding ourselves that they were actually personalized. That we could be that important to the company. From the way the boss was talking, it sounded like we were just as much a pawn as everyone else, to be used when he needed his dirty work done.

“Oh, and don’t use company cards while you’re there,” he added. “This research mission is off books and on your own dime.” With a dismissive wave, he headed back toward the door. “And boys,” he added. “If you get this right, there might just be a promotion waiting for you when you get back. And maybe even a seat at the executive’s table.” His eyes glimmered maliciously as he stared at us. “I know a couple of low-level marketing reps that have some big student loans. Wouldn’t it be nice if those just disappeared?”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Logan and me in stunned silence. We stared at each other, the weight of what we'd just been asked to do settling heavily on our shoulders.

“Did that just happen?” I finally managed to croak out.

Logan nodded slowly, his face a mix of disbelief and disgust. “Yep. We just got ordered to go down to Sagebrush and steal recipes basically from my family and neighbors.”

I slumped back into my chair, running a hand through my short, dark hair. “This is insane. We can't actually do this, can we?”

Logan leaned against his desk, loosening his tie even further. “I don't see how we have much of a choice. It's either this or unemployment.”

“You’d steal from your own people?”

“I just renewed my lease for three more years,” he replied. “It’ll cost nearly three months' worth of paychecks to break it if I get fired. Not to mention, I’m barely making ends meet now.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, understanding his predicament. I was in a similar boat with my own finances. “So, what should we do?”

“We go to Sagebrush,” he said. “We keep a low profile, get the recipes, and then get the hell out of there.”

I nodded reluctantly, knowing Logan was right. We didn't have much choice. But as I gazed out at the sprawling city below, a tiny seed of rebellion took root in my mind.

“Alright, we'll go,” I said slowly. “But maybe... maybe we don't have to play entirely by his rules.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “We go to Sagebrush, sure. But instead of stealing recipes, what if we actually talked to these people? Learned their stories, their techniques? We could come back with something authentic, something that honors their traditions instead of exploiting them.”

“Lucas,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s a really cute social justice angle on the fact that you’re still taking their recipes without compensation so the company can profit from them.”

I flopped back into my chair, realizing he was right. “Fuck…” I ground my palms into my eyes, trying to come up with a different idea. “Are you sure we can’t just buy the recipes? Or maybe your family has some we can use?”

“We’d never be able to afford even one. Plus, they’d want a cut. You’d think a bunch of hicks in rural Texas would be stupid, but they’re not. Especially not when it comes to family secrets. And that includes my family. They aren’t going to give those up without getting a cut of the profits.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.”

“So, what choice do we have?”

“We don’t,” Logan muttered. “It’s either recipes or unemploymentbecause not a damn person in this whole company is going to choose us over the boss.”

I let out a long, defeated sigh. “When do we leave?” I asked, turning back to Logan.

“Tomorrow,” he replied firmly. “We'll drive down. It'll give us time to figure out a plan.”

“You want to drive all the way to Texas?!” I balked. “That’ll take days!”

“Can you afford a plane ticket right now?”

“No…”

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