Zam carefully placed the soldering iron in its special holder, making sure that he didn't touch it. In his first few weeks at university, he'd made that mistake once and it was enough to never do so again. It was a useful tool for crafting circuits but it was completely punishing when the metal made contact with exposed skin. Thankfully by now, his burns had healed.

He locked the tiny makeshift circuit into place inside a small ring before capping it with two metal discs and a watch face. He then attached it to a strap and fastened it around his wrist. Closing one eye to help his aim, he pointed his arm at the far wall and squeezed the two buttons either side of the watch face. The mechanism swung open and a crackling metal disc went flying in the exact direction he was looking at, discharging as it dented the wall. Grinning at his fancy new contraption, Zam's work was done for the day.

"Sick toy!" Tristan grinned as he inspected the damage done to the lab wall. "Can I 'ave a go?"

"I only just made it, I'm not going to let you break it right away," Zam shook his head. Being on a course for mechanical engineering had some major benefits. He was allowed access to laboratories as well as the equipment that came with them and all of the materials that were supplied by the university. Given that he'd finished all of his assignments for the year in a few weeks, he figured that it was about time he did some experimenting. This little contraption was only the beginning. "Right then, next stop is the police station."

"Do we 'ave to go an' see the rozzers?" Tristan asked in an oddly shifty tone.

"Yes, it's very important that I have a contact in the force. I need someone with a badge," Zam nodded as he double checked the lab before leaving. He pocketed his newly arrived parcel from Fennel and slipped out of the room, locking the door.

"But why now? We gotta get ready for tonigh' ain't we?"

"Sorry, run that by me again?"

"Tonight!" Tristan exclaimed, trying his best to enunciate properly although not quite accomplishing his goal. "If we ain't prepared we ain't gonna pull!"

"And that's a bad thing?" Zam asked. Maybe later he'd make a Tristan to everyone's else's language dictionary. He was well aware of the party that Tristan had organised for tonight but he was completely unaware of any pulling of anything that may or may not be taking place that apparently depended entirely upon readiness.

"Jus' when I fought we was gettin' somewhere..." Tristan sighed, shaking his head. It was true, Zam had made some progress into learning what the life of the bloke was like but the lingo remained a mystery to him. He was a quick learner though. Eventually, he'd understand what his only friend meant.

They walked down the streets of Goldenrod mostly in silence, stopping every once in a while for Tristan to light a new cigarette and check his phone. Every now and then he'd mutter something under his breath, shaking his head but he'd also stop momentarily to make a victorious fist before re-tapping the screen, betting the money that he'd presumably just won.

"Gambling again?" Zam asked.

"Yeah."

"How's it going?"

"Bin be'er," Tristan replied. "Magnus bleedin' tanked again and there were a coupla upsets in the PWT but Grace won on the ol' Rhyhorn's so 'as awight."

"Grace won? Excellent," Zam grinned.

"Stuck some dough on 'er did ya?"

"A grand."

"Fackin' hell mate 'as risky shit!" Tristan exclaimed, once again shaking his head.

"She always wins. It was safe money," Zam shrugged. He was very calculated with his bets and as such almost always won money when gambling. However, his confidence could have been perceived as arrogance and he often wagered every penny he owned and if he was wrong the consequences could be disastrous.

"You'll be broke in a monf if ya carry on like 'at."

"Well, it's earned me a small fortune so far. What's your profit in the last month?" He shot Tristan a grin, knowing he'd won this argument. Tristan grimaced and backed down immediately. Zam grinned to himself. Winning arguments was always fun.

"Tell ya wha'," Tristan started when they eventually reached the police station, "You go sor' ou' dis fing and I'll go get us some booze, ait?"

"Ok," Zam nodded.

"Be back at mine by six, ait?" Tristan called out as he turned away, his black leather trench coat swirling at his heels.

"I'll see you then," Zam said before pushing the heavy door open. He wondered if Tristan was scared of the station for whatever reason. It was possible that he might even have a criminal record.

"Hello, can I help you?" Zam looked towards the direction of the noise. He saw a young lady with dark hair dressed in full uniform eyeing him up curiously. She didn't appear to be some kind of front desk lady but here she was standing in the foyer, questioning a visitor.

"Yes, I'm looking for a police officer. A good one," he replied.

"Well we're all out of those," she smiled at him.

"Bit of a rubbish police station then isn't it?"

"It was sarcasm."

"Oh, interesting." Zam pulled a notepad and pen from one of his inside pockets and scribbled down a note regarding sarcasm which was apparently a new human thing that he had to learn about. Even so, he tried to look as though he understood. "So where are you hiding all of them?"

"No, no, there are lots of police officers here. I am one. Hence, the uniform." Once again, she smiled very sweetly. Zam wasn't fooled by the smile. Underneath that pretty face and that endearing smile was a look of boredom. It was a look of exasperation and disappointment. This was a woman who had joined the force for the right reasons and wasn't seeing enough action, quite possibly due to her gender.

"Ah, I see," Zam nodded. "What kind of rates do your lot pay people?"

"We don't employ amateurs."

"I'm not talking about full employment," Zam shook his head. "If for example I apprehended a criminal and handed them over to you, what kind of reward could I expect?"

"That would entirely depend on the scenario. A dangerous enough criminal and you'd probably get something worthwhile," the young woman responded.

"Excellent," Zam grinned.

"Why, do you have anyone?"

"Not yet but I will do. Who do you want most?"

"If you could bring in those notorious bank robbers then that would be lovely." Once again, she smiled her sweet smile. Zam felt the pain in her voice. Even within the police, a force supposed to serve justice, there was injustice. He needed to pick his contacts carefully but perhaps he'd already found the perfect one.

"I'll have them tomorrow by noon," Zam grinned. He reached inside a pocket and took out a small piece of card with his contact information on and handed it to the young lady. "Could I have your number as well?"

"Nine nine nine."

"No, your personal number. I won't need the emergency services but I'll need a trustworthy policewoman." She tilted her head slightly, giving him a genuine look for the first time in the conversation. She opened her mouth but for a moment, her words failed her. Eventually, she handed over a number of her own.

"Here. And the name's Emily. Emily Jenkinson."

"Zam, Zam the Hybrid. See you tomorrow!" Zam grinned to himself, pocketing the card and exiting the station, back out onto the busy streets of Goldenrod. Now that his jobs for the day had all been completed, it was finally time to get ready for Tristan's party. He'd never been to a party before but Tristan had promised him a wild night full of new experiences and he was oddly looking forward to it. As long as he didn't get too drunk and was still functional the next day, it looked to be an exciting night and maybe he'd pull... something. Whatever Tristan's slang term 'pulling' referred to.