Free Child of Fire by Harry Connolly

to be pondering a spreadsheet of sales figures, and another passionately embraced a coffee cup.
    The toys made me smile. In fact, they made me feel damn good. I suppressed the urge to pick one up and put it in my pocket.
    All the employees were middle-aged women. Every few seconds one of them would stop typing or what ever and touch one of the toys—just lay a finger on it or adjust its position slightly—with an absent expression that suggested it was an old habit.
    An action figure dressed as an ancient Greek warrior but mounted on a huge eagle sat on the edge of a file cabinet. I ran my finger along the front edge of its wing and felt a sudden contentment. I could have played with that toy all day.
    Three of the office workers were watching me closely. I left it where it was.
    “I’m afraid my office is a little cluttered right now,” Able said. “But we have a conference room set up.”
    “That’s fine,” Annalise answered.
    I tried to study her face to see if she was drawn to the toys, too, but I couldn’t get enough of a glimpse to tell. Able Katz seemed to be perfectly fine, and the workers around us seemed basically normal. One woman burst out laughing as we walked past. Able glanced over andsaw that she was looking at a toy train with hands that were holding a jump rope. Suddenly, all the women began to handle the toys and smile.
    Able grinned. That was just what he wanted to see.
    He opened a glass door and stepped aside to let Annalise and me into the conference room. The windows were large and scrupulously clean. I couldn’t see the ocean from here, but I could see the town. Hammer Bay spread out before me, stretching north toward the hills.
    “I was surprised to hear from Jimmy Larson,” Able said. “I haven’t spoken to him since we were at Mattel. How do you know him?”
    “Excuse me for one moment,” Annalise said. She drew the scrap wood out of her satchel and held it so that only she and I could see the moving design. The lines seemed to be moving more quickly than usual. It wasn’t a big difference, but it was there. She turned to Able Katz and said: “Will Charles Hammer be joining us? My meeting was with him.”
    “Mr. Hammer was unavoidably detained,” Able responded. For an absurd moment, I thought he meant that he’d been arrested. “When one of his creative jags comes on, he goes into seclusion to work out the new toy.”
    “I’m disappointed,” Annalise said.
    “I understand. I’m sorry. However, I can pass to him any information you give me here.”
    “Before we do that,” Annalise said. “I’d like you to indulge me in one favor. Hold your hand out, as if you were stopping traffic.”
    “And why would I do that?”
    “Because I’m rich and eccentric and I’m asking you to.”
    Able looked at us for a moment, then shrugged. He held out his hand, fingers pointing toward the ceiling and palm facing us. Annalise laid the scrap wood against him. The moving design didn’t change. She scowled and returned the scrap to her satchel. “Thank you.”
    Able laughed. “Jimmy warned me you would be a creative type. In this business, you get used to odd things.”
    “It’s funny Jimmy would say that about me. He’s never met me. And I’m not creative at all. What I am is an activist.”
    “Okay. What cause?”
    “Human survival.”
    “I can get behind that,” Able said. He snuck a glance at his watch. “But I don’t know why you’ve come to me.”
    Annalise began her pitch then. It was about the clothes they made and sold for some of their fashion dolls. Annalise knew they made them locally, and she had a company in Africa that could do the work cheaper and where the people needed the wages more. She was calm and articulate, and I’d had no idea she could string so many words together at once.
    “I wish I’d known this was what our meeting would be about. I could have saved you the trouble. Mr. Hammer is adamant about sending work overseas. He won’t do it