Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) by Susan Kim, Laurence Klavan

truth is, I’d only consider increasing your pay if you people managed to do a better job,” he said.
    Slayd felt his face flush with annoyance.
    “I told you, we did everything that was asked,” he said, his control slipping. “Two of my people were seriously injured as a result. If you pay us more goods, perhaps it would begin to make up for the loss to my tribe. It would certainly not cover what we have lost in goodwill with the people of Prin by attacking them, the reasons for which you never once explained. That alone is worth an increase.”
    Levi didn’t even look at Slayd now, finding that his patience was wearing thin. Explain? he thought, with disbelief. It would be like justifying yourself to a dog. Instead, he ignored the remark.
    “I am not only talking about the recent attack,” said Levi. “It’s everything. What about that other job from before? The job I asked you to do far from Prin?”
    But Slayd was shaking his head. “Why do you mention that now? We brought you the child,” he said. “We fulfilled our end of the deal. What else was required?”
    “You were supposed to kill both parents,” replied Levi. “You told me the father survived. I’m surprised, Slayd. I thought you people were capable of handling such a simple job.”
    The variant leader smirked.
    “We are,” he replied. “But it was not my people who carried it out.”
    “I don’t understand,” said Levi.
    Now Slayd was grinning, relishing the look of confusion on the norm’s face. “It was another tribe. They made the mistake. Not my people.”
    “But—” began Levi, and this time, he was interrupted by the variant.
    “I hired them,” Slayd said. This time, he did not bother to hide not only his triumph, but also his anger—anger at Levi’s rudeness, his condescension, and presumed superiority. “It was too far for my people, too much trouble. Not worth what you offered.”
    “And you paid these others . . . out of the fee I paid you?” said Levi, his voice rising. He, too, had dropped the veneer of politeness, the pretense of civilization; he was openly furious. “You dare to attempt profiting from the jobs I give you by hiring others?”
    “Profit?” The mutant seemed to spit out the word. “When my people are starving? You dare to call that a profit?”
    Incensed, Levi was about to rise and call for his guards. But with the remarkable self-restraint that had served him for so many years, he instead remained motionless.
    Levi realized he was foolish to respond emotionally to what was a business disagreement. True, any norm alive would be angered by the effrontery of the savage in front of him. Such arrogance was unacceptable and at some point, Levi would make certain to pay it back, harshly and many times over.
    But not quite yet.
    As much as it pained him to admit it, Levi still needed the mutant leader. Since the Source had started running out of food and water, Slayd and his tribe had been critical in helping Levi carry out his plan. He had to drive the people out of Prin. If the residents believed they were making the decision to leave themselves, it would lead to a cleaner and simpler transition than if he were to try using force. With control over an endless supply of water, Levi would then be sole owner and occupant of the town. All he needed was for Sarah to bring him the missing book, which would tell him exactly where to dig. Until she did, Levi would have to endure Slayd’s insolence.
    Levi was aware that Slayd was watching him and so he forced himself to smile. Then he chuckled, as if enjoying the punchline to a good joke. At this, the mutant visibly relaxed, and in doing so, missed the involuntary twitch in the norm’s jaw.
    “Of course,” Levi said, “perhaps I should be taking all of this as a compliment. You seem to have picked up a few of my tricks, Slayd. Why shouldn’t you hire others to do your dirty work for you?”
    Slayd inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Any comparison