Banter?
There was a scramble, and Jim tensed until he realized it was one of the morlocks he had spotted shadowing them. If she wasn’t alarmed, the morlock was the best actress he’d ever seen. “Bloody Hell, surfacer,” she said. “What did you two drag down here?”
“Damned if I know, lady.” Jim poked his head up — then ducked down again, as another burst came through the door. “I just got here. Who’s in charge?”
“The mayor. But he’d be inside the town hall.”
“Chief of police?”
“You mean, the police sergeant? That’s also the mayor.”
“Am I gonna get the same answer if I ask who has the highest militia rank around here?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Oh, by the way: Jim Adams, Infrastructure Repair. That’s Major Spencer over there, behind the overturned pushcart. We dropped by to ask about any suspicious characters you might have seen.” He grinned. “Guess we found one.”
The morlock nodded. “Linda Miller.”
“That’s it?” Jim said, after a minute. “Just Linda Miller, private citizen?”
“Ah… yes? I mean, I repair hydroponic units and I’m ranked third in the local snooker league, but I didn’t think you’d care.”
“You’d think I’d understand snooker better by now,” Jim said vaguely. “It’s been five years. Oh, don’t mind me: I’m just waiting for the Major to come up with her plan. You are working on one, Major?” he called out.