Both

He needed a new job and he needed to work on his newly discovered senses. It only made sense to combine his chances.

The folder Pricilla Goodman had given him when she'd fired him had a map showing the location of the outplacement company on Independence Parkway in Richardson. He wasn't sure what to expect when he pulled into the parking lot but was hopeful. He was good at his job. He'd created a killer campaign for bio-DNA. He should be able to turn this career glitch into an opportunity.

He kept that positive attitude all the way to the door where a bald guy in a suit was just leaving. The bald guy held the door open for Rick, then did a doubletake. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Do I know you?"

"I sure as hell hope not. You look like you lost a fight with a food processor and, quite frankly, smell like a garbage dump."

Rick caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the glass door and realized the bald guy was right. He was a mess. The bio-DNA had done a number on him. "Had a rough night," he admitted. "Guess I should wash up before I meet my career counselor."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"Meaning."

"Meaning that they don't do shit. Nobody is looking for guys past their twenties. Even if you're willing to work for the same pay as some entry level grunt, they say something about us not having the flexibility. It's bullshit but you know how it is with management fads. Nobody gets a bonus by going against the trend."

Well wasn't baldy a ray of sunshine? Not that Rick hadn't noticed the same thing. Still, there had to be somebody out there who was looking for a marketing manager who'd proven he could deliver.

"Thanks for the inspiration."

"Hey, I thought you looked like the kind of guy who could figure that out on your own."

What Rick was was a guy who'd taken illicit bio-DNA. Which meant he was wasting his time not using his skills.

Baldy wasn't particularly hard to read. His skin was clammy and his pupils shrunk practically to a dot despite still standing inside of the building. In his normal mode, Rick wouldn't have noticed the way the knap of baldy's suit was just a little worn. Without Rick's new sight, baldy would have looked like an executive on the make. With it, he looked like another loser down on his luck.

Now that he thought about it, Rick realized he was getting better at using his newly improved senses. Which meant he had to keep it up.

"You seem like a pretty insightful guy. Got a phone number? Maybe we can get together some time and brainstorm opportunities."

"Phone is about the only thing I have left after the company took my house, my wife, my car, my fucking dog. But hey, I'm not into guys. Not that I'm judging. I just never--"

"Yeah, me neither."

"Fine." He handed over a business card on a fancy stock. "Outplacement don't do shit but they sure make pretty business cards. Guess you'll find that out pretty quick."

Rick read the card--Mark Mason, Economist. No wonder he was so in tune with what was going on. "Nice meeting you, Mark. I'll call you sometime and maybe we can help each other on the job front."

"Yeah, good luck with that. Not that I don't appreciate the thought."

Mark stepped outside, walking toward the bus stop.

At the time he'd bought his Toyota, his boss had made fun of him, told him to use the company's credit union to buy something nicer, dress for his next job, that kind of thing. But paying cash for his car might have been the smartest thing he'd ever done because at least he had a place to sleep... assuming the cops didn't roust him off the streets.